I distinctly remember the first moment I heard the ethereal sounds of a Bulgarian women’s choir. I was completely and utterly entranced by the beauty of their harmonies, and the surprisingly satisfying asymmetricality of their music. Something about Bulgarian choral music was so novel and innovative, yet simultaneously so pleasing to Western ears. I listened to just about every folk song I could find, and it quickly became clear that I should share this music—and this culture—through my own medium: the wind ensemble.

Much of Songs of Bulgaria is based on traditional Bulgarian folk melodies that were recorded for the album, Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares (Mystery of the Bulgarian Voices), by the Bulgarian State Television Female Vocal Choir. This album saw great success following its release in 1975 (the second edition won a GRAMMY Award), building on folk melodies passed down orally for much of Bulgaria’s history. Many of these melodies made their way into Songs of Bulgaria, while also being paired with numerous original melodies that I composed in the same style. My work is an original interpretation of this Bulgarian folk music, featuring new forms, harmonies, melodies, instruments, and colors.

While Songs of Bulgaria was a joy to compose, it was also one of the most difficult pieces I have ever written—largely because I lack any Bulgarian heritage myself. In order to compose in a Balkan style, I conducted an extensive amount of research to fully appreciate the musical and cultural conventions of Bulgaria. During the process, I become intimately familiar with the musical characteristics of the nation and its history as well.

The first movement, “Svatba!,” is a celebration of life, culture, and unity. It captures the joyous spirit of a Bulgarian wedding, a ceremony filled with music, dance, and the vibrant interplay of light and dark—reflecting the dualities that are so integral to the soul of Bulgaria.

The second movement, “Pesen na Naroda,” explores the deep and enduring struggles that have shaped the Bulgarian people, particularly during their turbulent history through the 20th century. The haunting voices of the solo oboe and English horn are pitted against the rest of the ensemble—emblematic of the existential struggle between man and the unforgiving world. The two voices gradually discover themselves, and join together to retain their identity in defiance of the dark forces around them—symbolizing the strength and perseverance of a nation that, despite its trials, never loses its faith or its sense of self.

The final movement, “Kaval Sviri,” is a spirited dance, relentless in its forward motion. The melody is like a train, surging through darkness with a resolve that cannot be shaken. At times, the themes are covered by chaos, noise, or conflicting ideas—but never truly subverted. This movement is about triumph—how the light within us can prevail, even when the world seems determined to extinguish it. In the end, the train does not just survive; it flourishes, embracing the darkness and transforming it into a new kind of light.

I hope this piece will serve as a bridge between cultures—offering even a fractional glimpse into the indomitable character of Bulgaria—and reminding us all that even in our darkest moments, there is always a path to the light.