In 1977, composer John Corigliano Jr. was commissioned a work by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic for the clarinetist Stanley Drucker. Corigliano went on to compose the Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra, one of his most well-known works and one of the most ingenious clarinet concerti ever written. Corigliano was given an advantage in writing this piece, as his father was the former concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic and he grew up acquainting himself with the members of the orchestra. This is quite evident in the orchestral writing, where there are difficult solo passages for many of the instruments in the orchestra. 

What makes this concerto work so incredibly well is Corigliano’s great solution to the subject of balance between the orchestra and the solo clarinet as well as the unfathomably virtuosic solo part in which almost every note still feels necessary. 

With many clarinet concerti, composers solve the problem of balance by simply reducing or changing the orchestra’s instrumentation. Take for example, Stravinsky’s Ebony concerto (Clarinet and jazz band), Copland’s Clarinet Concerto (Clarinet and strings, piano and harp), and Nielsen’s Clarinet Concerto, none of which match the sheer power reached by Corigliano (without drowning out the clarinet). Instead of keeping a reduced orchestration, in the densest moments of the work Corigliano utilizes the upper register of the clarinet which pierces through even some of the thickest orchestral textures. Corigliano also employs a few instruments which are offstage, shown in the diagram below, creating more timbral and textural options available in orchestration.

Another example of genius in this piece is just merely the textures in the orchestration. Corigliano seeks textures by way similar to that of other pioneers such as Lutosławski and Hovhaness, using aleatoricism. Although Corigliano’s notation of aleatoric devices is different, it certainly works and consistently creates dazzling atmospheres.

The first movement is made up of two extremely difficult cadenzas with an interlude between them. The first is titled “Ignus fatuus” or “Will-o’-wisp”, the legend of the ghastly apparition of luminescence that is seen by travelers. The clarinet characterizes this through a whispering flurry of fast notes in one breath at a time. The interludium then follows, moving lethargically with solos from the orchestra interspersed. After the middle section, the second cadenza “Corona solis” or “Crown of the sun” follows. The clarinet still sprints up and down in singular breaths, but the dynamic is much louder than before, accompanied by a driving percussion parts and featuring many more trills and piercing high notes, like rays of sunlight emitting from the bright sun.

The second movement, “Elegy”, is much more tame in the sense of rhythm and activity. It was written in memory of Corigliano’s father, John Corigliano Sr., which is evident through the prominent violin (the instrument of Corigliano Sr.) solo that converses with the clarinet. Although the rhythm of this movement is made up solely of values that are multiples of the quarter note, there is no lack of genius in Corigliano’s heart-wrenching and melodious writing.

The third and final movement, “Antiphonal Toccata”, is just that. Like the antiphonal singing in church choir between Dec and Can, Corigliano makes sure each voice of the orchestra is utilized in different sections at a time, converging when needed. This fast and extremely intense movement combines old ideas such as quotes from Gabrielli’s Sonata Pian e Forte, antiphony, and the toccata, as well as newer ideas such as aleatoricism, post-tonal harmony, and more.