Though not published until 1968, portions of Elliott Carter's Eight Pieces for Four Timpani had been composed as early as 1950, and had enjoyed a fairly wide bootleg circulation among percussionist for several year previous to their going to print. For many years, the relatively small percussion recital repertory featured few compositions from prominent non-percussionist composers; thus, despite Carter's own initial apprehensions about the pieces, many players were immediately attracted to Carter's well-crafted, idiomatically creative timpani studies. Having initially composed six pieces in 1950, in 1966 Carter sought out the advice of Jan Williams, who helped make the pieces more performable, and to whom the composer dedicated the two numbers that he added to the set. Carter's Eight Pieces have become a staple of the percussion repertory, and have helped expand the sonic possibilities of an instrument generally considered rather unsoloistic and timbrally confined.
In assessing the collection as a whole, it is important to note that the order in which the pieces appear in published form does not dictate performance sequence. In fact, the composer stresses that the whole set should never be performed in one shot; rather, the notes to the score suggest that a maximum of four pieces be played as a suite, and that certain pieces might work better as openers than others. (The pieces as they appear in the music are arranged in such a fashion as to facilitate easy page turns). Carter saw these compositions as an opportunity to explore certain metrical ideas, and to fully flesh-out the possibilities of the four-pitch systems he had been experimenting with. Thus, each piece in the collection explores a different set of rhythmic and/or melodic ideas, while stretching the timbral boundaries of the timpani by striking the drums in different places and in different manners.
Carter's notes to no. 1, Saëta, describe it as "An Andalusian song of improvisatory character sung during an outdoor religious procession... said to be the descendent of a rain ceremony during which an arrow (saëta) was shot into the clouds..." The rigid and gradually accelerating rhythms that form the body of the work are bookended by passages of ad libitum accelerandos. Moto Perpetuo, as the name implies, is characterized by relentless motion: an unending stream of sixteenth notes travel through various dynamic, timbral, and metrical fields. The Adagio of the third movement is to be played "very freely," and utilizes unique acoustical effects to produce "ghost tones" of sympathetic vibrations. One of the later additions from 1966, this piece features glissandi that require pedal timpani (now common).
One of the most thematically rich movements is the fourth, titled Recitative. Three distinct melodic ideas alternate and eventually altercate, before finally being blended together. A similar action is executed on the rhythmic plane in no. 5, Improvisation: despite the subdivisional rhythmic continuity, Carter's rhythmic and metrical tricks cause the music to alternately surge and settle. The sixth piece in the series, Canto, is the second addition from 1966, and also utilizes the glissando afforded by the pedal. Added to this distinctive sound is the pointed articulation of snare drum sticks rather than the standard wool or felt mallets. Like Saëta, no. 7 ("Canaries") evokes the exotic. The title refers not to the feathered species but to a dance imported from the Canary Islands during the renaissance. The last work, March, is actually two marches piled atop each other: concurrent but not coordinated beats are maintained by each hand, representing two drummers approaching, dueling, and retreating. ~ Jeremy Grimshaw, Rovi