Christmas is a celebration full of melodies — songs that have accompanied generations, inspired hope, and brought people together. Each movement is a small musical narrative that invites us to pause and reflect. The result is a musical journey that ranges from jubilant chorales to heartfelt Alpine melodies, culminating in a moving setting of Silent Night.

In the lyrical brass settings of Leise rieselt der Schnee, Am Weihnachtsbaume, die Lichter brennen, and Süßer die Glocken nie klingen, the ensemble captures those tender moments that illuminate the Christmas season with elegant clarity.

With Vom Himmel hoch, Tetra Brass invites us to enjoy this cherished treasury of Christmas music.

“We want to present all the qualities of our brass instruments on our debut album. The wide range of sounds we can create with them is often hugely underestimated,” says Christian Traute, who also writes the arrangements for the quartet.

On METALL, Tetra Brass explores works from the 25 years around 1900. “On our album, we looked for the big picture in small pieces: from the original repertoire to the combination of old and new in Debussy and finally the compositions by Janáček that point far into the 20th century,” says Christian Traute. However, the order on the album is exactly the reverse, beginning with Janáček's On an Overgrown Path. Initially consisting of just five short pieces for harmonium, the Czech composer (1854–1928) later rewrote them for piano and expanded the cycle with a further five pieces by 1908. He was unsuccessful for a long time in his search for a publisher and was not taken seriously as a rural composer in Prague's music scene. He published the work in 1911; a further five movements were added posthumously in 1942.

Janáček wrote the piano cycle after the death of his daughter, which is why it was perceived by many as sombre — today it fascinates as a “diary” of Janáček's innermost feelings. The version for brass quartet presented here by Tetra Brass allows Janáček's piano cycle to shine once again in different colours — and the careful use of electronics in selected movements expands the boundaries of the brass sound. You can clearly hear the quartet's love of experimentation and their desire to interpret chamber music works in a completely new way. The arrangement retains the chamber music character, but Christian Traute's version was also inspired by larger-scale works by Janáček, such as the Glagolitic Mass or the Sinfonietta.

Claude Debussy completed his Trois Chansons de Charles d'Orléans, composed for vocal ensemble, around the same time as Janáček completed his work On an Overgrown Path — in 1908. Debussy (1862–1918) drew on medieval texts by Charles d'Orléans, but at the same time his harmonies have an impressionistic feel. This fusion of Renaissance song techniques with historical poetry reflected a trend at the time when the work was composed. In his Trois Chansons, Debussy also adopts the counterpoint technique from the Renaissance, which he himself once described as “smiling counterpoint”.

While Debussy and Janáček composed pioneering music of the 20th century, the French composer Anton Simon (1850–1916), who lived in Russia, followed a more conservative path, inspired by his great role model Tchaikovsky. Among the 22 Petits Morceaux d'ensemble op. 26 are the only original works for brass quartet on the album. The 22 marches, dances and character pieces are written for ensembles of various sizes, from quartet to septet — the album features Nos. 1–8 for brass quartet.

Simon's decision to compose these works was primarily driven by the great popularity of brass music in Russia. This developed from courtly culture: court horn ensembles, usually consisting of at least 15 musicians, were very popular from the middle of the 18th century. Although the court brass culture declined in the course of the 19th century — during Simon's lifetime — the music continued to enjoy great popularity. In 1888, the first brass quartet was formed in Moscow, founded by musicians from the Bolshoi Theatre. Despite being regarded as music for outdoor occasions — as the titles of the movements suggest — the 22 Petits Morceaux contain virtuoso passages for the cornet that may sound simple and effortless, but are quite demanding for musicians.

With METALL, the four musicians of Tetra Brass offer listeners a great opportunity to explore the versatility of their brass instruments — and, above all, to enjoy their sound.

Finding original repertoire for brass quartet is difficult. Genuine works for this ensemble are rare, making each discovery all the more valuable — both historically and artistically. Tetra Brass's new album presents two such works, aptly brought together under the simple title Quatuor: Alexander Glazunov's In Modo Religioso and Anton Simon's Quatuor en forme de sonatine.

For Tetra Brass, these two quartets also hold a special personal significance, as trombonist Christian Traute explains: “These composers and their original works have accompanied us throughout our journey as a quartet. We have performed both pieces for many years, and they have profoundly shaped our ensemble's sound.” The music on Quatuor is therefore a true labour of love for the ensemble.

The Russian composer Alexander Glazunov (1865–1936) began composing as a child and completed his First Symphony at the age of sixteen. His mentor, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, noted that from around 1885 onwards Glazunov developed a growing interest in brass instruments. After taking lessons on several of them, he turned increasingly to composing for wind ensembles, having previously focused primarily on orchestral music. In 1886, a few years before his appointment to the St. Petersburg Conservatory, he composed In Modo Religioso for brass quartet, one of the works featured on Quatuor.

Glazunov's interest in brass instruments coincided with a period of remarkable musical and technological development in Russia, which fuelled enthusiasm for wind and brass instruments alike. Instrument making advanced rapidly during these years. Following the founding of the influential Russian Musical Society by Anton Rubinstein and Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna in 1859, the St. Petersburg Conservatory was established in 1862. Tsar Alexander II even sent Rubinstein to Vienna to purchase wind and brass instruments from leading manufacturers for the new conservatory, while also issuing an imperial decree introducing a uniform concert pitch throughout the Russian Empire.

Glazunov was undoubtedly familiar with earlier chamber music for brass instruments, though he had no direct connection to that tradition. Unlike his contemporary Anton Simon (1850–1916), he did not emerge from a chamber music background. Simon, a French-born composer who settled in Russia in 1870, found fertile ground for his music in a country whose flourishing brass culture had been profoundly influenced by the European chamber music tradition of the late nineteenth century. He quickly established himself in his adopted homeland, composing numerous chamber works for brass ensembles that were published by P. Jurgenson — the leading Russian music publisher of the period — in Warsaw, Moscow, and St. Petersburg.

“It is astonishing that the refined and nuanced sound world of Romantic chamber music for smaller brass ensembles has been almost completely forgotten,” observes bass trombonist Jakob Grimm. “By contrast, the powerful sonority of the large orchestral brass sections of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries continues to shape our modern conception of brass sound. Our aesthetic is deeply rooted in the orchestral tradition. Discovering the subtle sound world of Simon's Quatuor and the narrative character of Glazunov's In Modo Religioso has been a deeply rewarding experience for me.”

Simon's Quatuor en forme de sonatine, presented here, is his most substantial chamber work for brass instruments. Firmly rooted in the Romantic tradition — Simon drew inspiration, among others, from the musical world of Tchaikovsky — it thrives on its rich palette of articulation and finely graded dynamics. “I am fascinated by the way Anton Simon transfers the roles of a string quartet to four brass instruments so convincingly,” says trumpeter Aljoscha Zierow. “He writes with a deep understanding of the instruments, ensuring that every phrase lies naturally for the players while making elegant use of the pairing of two trumpets and two trombones. What moves me most is the profound Eastern European melancholy that permeates both works and lends them remarkable emotional depth.”

Imagination and Its Place in Music

Although the main instrumental structures such as the sonata and symphony were already clearly comprehensible, the development of the string quartet was initially less clear. It emerged between 1750 and 1760 within various musical forms such as the Italian sinfonia and sonata as well as the German divertimento.

Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) accepted an invitation from Karl Joseph Weber von Fürnberg to Weinzierl Castle near Wieselburg in Lower Austria and wrote his ten early string quartets there, although these works had not yet been given a specific title. In a catalog of works he had compiled himself, he first titled his Opus 1 “Cassatio” — this was the original name given to divertimentos performed outdoors in the Viennese Classical period — and later changed the title to “Divertimento”. His stylistic starting point was the South German–Austrian divertimento tradition — music in the galant style, but also a little playful. In the Paris print edition of 1762, his string quartets were referred to as “Simphonies ou Quatuors dialogués”.

As was typical of Joseph Haydn's early quartets, Op. 1 No. 2 follows the five-movement form of his divertimenti. A slow serenade movement forms the heart of the quartet and is surrounded by two minuets. The two fast opening and closing movements form the framework around these three movements. His quartets were very popular and therefore were printed several times early on. He is generally regarded as the “master of the string quartet”, but his works were also frequently criticized — mostly because of their humorous tone. Some tempi and the abundance of notes in his works are unexpected, and bars are filled differently than expected from the average string quartet.

A rarity in Haydn's compositions is the use of brass instruments: only one trumpet concerto and a few horn concertos can be found among his works. But Joseph Haydn must also have known the trombone as a solo instrument, as his brother Michael Haydn and Johann Georg Albrechtsberger — whose brother Anton played in a quartet with Joseph Haydn, the castle administrator and the castle pastor in Weinzierl — each composed a concerto for alto trombone.

Only a few years after Joseph Haydn composed his Opus 1, the hymns on which John Cage based his Harmonies were written in North America. He transformed 44 Protestant hymns from the 18th century — congregational songs for church services — into fragments for his work “Apartment House 1776”. The absence of cadences creates spaces of openness in his works, and John Cage leaves it to our imagination what we (continue to) hear in the silence. For the composer, absolute silence did not exist; he came to this realization, among other things, after he himself spent some time in an anechoic chamber. Known as a fan of simple “sound”, he was careful not to interpret tones — and thus also silence — as anything other than what they are, as he made clear in a 1992 documentary: “I love sounds, just as they are. I don't want to see them psychological, I don't want to see a sound as a bucket, or as a president or in love with another sound — I just want it to be a sound!”

The balancing act between tradition and innovation is felt in hardly any other work as much as in these 44 Harmonies, about which he himself said: “The cadences and everything disappear, but the flavor remains. You can recognize it as 18th century music, but it's suddenly brilliant in a new way.”

The musicians of Tetra Brass interpret the “Harmonies” in their own way, placing them in dialogue with Joseph Haydn's quartet. At times in unexpected ways, and so they may also open up a completely new way of understanding and experiencing the music.

“I have nothing to say and I am saying it and this is poetry as I need it. This space of time is organized. We need not fear the silences — we may love them.” — John Cage, Lecture on Nothing

“My arrangement of the Quartet in E-flat major, Hob. III:2 by Joseph Haydn asks the question ‘What if…?’ I carefully tried to transfer the core of the music to the homogeneous timbre of our brass quartet, always with an awareness of the use of the trumpet and trombone as solo instruments by Haydn himself and his contemporaries.” — Christian Traute

Ki Tov: An Expression of Gratitude and Praise

Psalm 136 from Luther's Bible, which thanks God for His goodness and praises Him primarily as the Creator, inspired the Australian composer Alex Vaughan (b. 1987) to create his piece “Ki Tov” (2021) for brass quartet. As a trained (and performing) trombonist, he is well aware of the sonic possibilities of the brass family.

In line with most of his works, the artist takes an avant-garde path here as well, consistently using extraordinary extended techniques that produce percussive and noise-based sounds. The result is not a hymn-like sonority but rather “the strength of the breath creating heaven and earth, as well as the power of the one who led Israel out of slavery in Egypt,” according to Vaughan. “Many of my works are characterized by an integration of theological ideas and conceptual music. This work, however, is an exception to this. It is nothing other than a pure expression of praise. It is music that has arisen out of the heart, out of impulse and instinct as an expression of thankfulness to the one who made me.”

“Ki Tov” not only astonishes the listeners but also opens up new sonic worlds, allowing the musicians of Tetra Brass to expand their already extensive sonic palette. The uniqueness of the piece lies in the fact that “Ki Tov” uses only what Alex Vaughan calls the “percussive elements” of the instruments. Throughout the entire work, not a single pitch is heard!

John Dowland: Royal Splendour and Melancholic Intensity

The music of John Dowland (1563–1626) represents an entirely different era and musical language. He did not write a single work for a brass instrument, so the suite presented here, originally published in 1605, was arranged by Jakob Grimm, bass trombonist of Tetra Brass. Dowland was Europe's first internationally renowned lutenist, with engagements at the courts of England, France, and Denmark. His life and music are inseparably connected, as is the case with only a few composers before him.

This is particularly evident in his musical portraits, in which he immortalized people from his personal and professional circle. From the exciting King of Denmark Galliard to the melancholic Flow My Tears, the five movements of the suite capture the essence of the Elizabethan era while allowing for a contemporary arrangement for Tetra Brass. “I started exploring Dowland's music and the ways other musicians have interpreted it. At first I was fascinated by Sting's adaptations, in which he treats the songs as though they were jazz standards. Dr Case and Mr Thomas are the most interesting ones, because they really allow your imagination to run wild as you imagine who these people might have been,” says bass trombonist Jakob Grimm.

Many of Dowland's works are profoundly melancholic. On the one hand, they originated in the time of “Elizabethan Melancholy,” a melancholic attitude in various art forms that was considered an aesthetic principle during the Elizabethan era, exploring the inevitability of mortality and the transience of earthly life. On the other hand, John Dowland himself was deeply melancholic — a post as court lutenist in England was one Queen Elizabeth I long denied him. Only in 1612, at an already advanced age for his time, was he appointed court lutenist by Elizabeth's successor, James I.

Henry Reloaded, written by Gregor Hübner, consists of three different layers of ideas. The first is a basic form and melodic structure composed in the style of Henry Purcell which is repeated throughout the piece. The second layer is a reharmonization of this melody which creates a whole set of new harmonic changes, and the third layer is a free blues improvisation added above these two. All three together create the mystical mood of a New Orleans funeral.

Paths Become Lines was written in the fall of 2010 in preparation for a tour of the Sirius Quartet through Germany and Switzerland and was the first piece that Jeremy Harman wrote as a member of the quartet. Growing up splitting his time between cello and classical music, and playing guitar in metal and hardcore bands, this piece is an attempt to bridge the gap between those two musical worlds. The title of the piece came into Jeremy's head as he was finishing the music, and he decided not to question it.

“I think of a path as something that is not clearly defined and may or may not have a clear beginning and ending, and a line as something very well defined, straight, certain. Everyone struggles with the idea of purpose and meaning at some point in their lives, and this piece is a reflection of that struggle. Expanding the arrangement to include a brass quartet has given this piece a new life, and the wonderful playing and energy of our good friends from Tetra Brass have completely exceeded my expectations of what this piece could be.” — Jeremy Harman