Carlos Castaneda was a Peruvian author who settled in the United States and wrote 12 books chronicling his experiences with a pre-Columbian shaman who helped Castaneda access “non-ordinary reality” and develop his personal creativity, something the shaman called his “nagual.”

Casteneda’s books have sold millions of copies, and one of his readers was Toronto-based composer Michael Colgrass, whose Winds of Nagual was commissioned by the New England Conservatory Wind Ensemble and its conductor Frank Battisti, and premiered in Boston on today’s date in 1985.

“Sometimes when composing, I see music as if it is a film, but the listener need not have read Castaneda’s books to enjoy this work, and I do not expect anyone to follow any exact scenario,” said Colgrass.

And, speaking of cinematic scenarios, Colgrass said band directors in the Southwest told him that in the last years of his life Castaneda would show up at concerts when Winds of Nagual was being performed. “He would wait until just before the downbeat,” said Colgrass, “and then enter the auditorium wearing a white suit and sit in the middle of the audience. Apparently, he considered this music to be his Hail to the Chief.”

Michael Colgrass (1932-2019): Winds of Nagual; North Texas Wind Symphony; Eugene Migliaron Corporon, conductor; GIA 880

On today’s date in 1990, Czech-born composer Karel Husa returned to his hometown of Prague to conduct a concert of his own music after more than forty years in exile. Husa left Prague in 1948 after the post-War communist takeover of Czechoslovakia, and in 1954 accepted a teaching post at Cornell University. He was granted U.S. citizenship in 1959.

At that festive 1990 homecoming concert in Prague’s Smetana Hall, broadcast nationwide by Czech radio and TV, Husa conducted the Czech premiere of his Music for Prague 1968, a composition that had received thousands of performances all over the world, but none, until that night, in the city that inspired it.

Husa had written it in the summer of 1968 after troops from the Soviet Union had invaded his homeland to suppress a growing Czech democratic movement. Music for Prague, 1968 soon became a classic of wind band repertory.

One of Husa’s American students, composer Thomas Duffy, traveled to Prague to attend the concert. “Husa conducted vigorously,” Duffy recalled, and after the performance noted that, “Twice, when I felt that the volume of applause was already overwhelming, Husa presented the V for victory sign to the house — and the volume doubled.”

Karel Husa (1921-2016): Music for Prague 1968; Eastman Wind Ensemble; Donald Hunsberger, conductor; CBS/Sony MK-44916

Today’s date marks the birthday of Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States. It is also the birthday of famous American symphonist Roy Harris, who stated he was born in Lincoln County near Chandler, Oklahoma on February 12, 1898. Some have challenged the accuracy of the date, as a land deed associated with his family suggests his birth year might have been 1901, and Harris was the main source of information regarding the actual day of his birth.

There’s also some confusion about exactly how many symphonies Harris wrote, since he didn’t assign numbers to some of the works he labeled “symphonies” or “symphonic” — and in 1976 deliberately misnumbered his Symphony No. 13 as being his Symphony No. 14, because he considered 13 an unlucky number.

Despite all this, Harris’ Symphony No. 3 from 1938 is regularly cited as one of the best American symphonies of the 20th century.

As the Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians put it, “the musicality, breadth of vision, and generosity of impulse that form his best music assure him long-term recognition.”

So, whether or not it was in 1898 or 1901, or even on February 12 — Happy Birthday, Mr. Harris!

Roy Harris (1898-1979): Symphony No. 3; Dallas Symphony; Eduardo Mata, conductor; Dorian 90170

During the 1906-1907 season of the Metropolitan Opera in New York, America’s premiere opera company staged a mini-festival of operas by a living composer ­— Giacomo Puccini.

The Met’s star tenor, Enrico Caruso, could be heard in revival productions of Puccini’s La Boheme and Tosca — operas that still qualified as “contemporary music” back then, being just 10 and 7 years old respectively. The Met also scheduled the company premiere of Puccini’s first big operatic success, Manon Lescaut and, on today’s date in 1907, the American premiere of Puccini’s newest opera, Madame Butterfly.

They arranged for Puccini to supervise the rehearsals, but his ship was delayed by bad weather. He arrived in New York on the day of the scheduled premiere of Manon Lescaut, and rushed to his box at the opera house just in time for the start of Act II — but not before acknowledging a big ovation from the audience.

If America was enthusiastic about Puccini, the feeling was reciprocated. In 1912, Puccini visited the New York studios of Columbia Records to record a greeting to his American fans. This was in Italian but concluded with two words of English — a quote from the libretto for his Madama Butterfly — “America forever!”

Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924): Madame Butterfly Suite; Rome Symphony; Domenico Savino, conductor; MCA 9834-A

The 1912 recording of the voice of Puccini: Grammofono 2000 #AB-78779

On today’s date in 1927, at the Neues Theater in Leipzig, a new opera had its premiere. Jonny Spielt Auf or Johnny Strikes Up the Band was the work of Viennese composer Ernst Krenek.

Ostensibly, the opera tells the story of an American jazz band leader named Jonny, who steals a valuable European violin, but in symbolic terms it deals with both the role of music and the conflict between the artistic traditions of the old and new worlds.

Krenek’s jazzy score was a tremendous success and was produced at 42 opera houses, including the Metropolitan Opera. By 1929 the libretto had been translated into 14 languages. Its overwhelming success made the opera’s “Jonny” a pop icon and household name and provided Krenek a comfortable cushion of financial security.

When the Nazis came to power in Europe, however, Krenek’s security evaporated. For the Nazis, his opera was a prime example of what they termed “degenerate art,” and its composer emigrated to America, where he became a citizen in 1945. Krenek taught at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie and Hamline University in St. Paul before eventually settling in California, where he died in 1991 at 91.

Ernst Krenek (1900-1991): Jonny Spielt Auf; Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra; Lothar Zagrosek, conductor; London 436 631

Rhode Island natives of a certain age wax nostalgic about Rocky Point, a popular family vacation spot on the Narragansett Bay side of Warwick, which operated from the late 1840s until its close in 1995. There was an amusement park with rides like “The Russian Toboggan,” “The Wildcat” and “Cyclone,” for the kids, while mom and pop might opt for a table at the Rocky Point Chowder House.

In 1966, the American composer Ron Nelson spent a summer holiday there. “It’s such a small state, there aren’t that many places to go,” he later recalled. Still, his Rocky Point Holiday provided the inspiration — and the title — for a work commissioned by Dr. Frank Bencriscutto for his University of Minnesota Concert Band.

Rocky Point Holiday was first performed under Bencriscutto’s direction on today’s date in 1967, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, during the annual convention of the College Band Director’s National Association. But the piece really took off — a little like “The Russian Toboggan” perhaps? — when Bencriscutto’s band toured the Soviet Union in 1969.

“Frank wanted an American piece to open the program,” Nelson recalled, and Rocky Point Holiday fit the bill perfectly, and the jaunty score became a classic in the wind band repertory.

Ron Nelson (1929-2023): Rocky Point Holiday; Dallas Wind Symphony; Jerry Junkin, conductor; Reference Recording RR-76

These days, it’s still considered news when the Metropolitan Opera stages an opera by a female composer, so one might assume that in the 19th century, the performance of any opera written by a woman would have been even more sensational.

Well, that wasn’t the case on today’s date in 1895, when the Paris Opera staged La Montagne Noire, or The Black Mountain, by Augusta Holmes, or “Augusta Holmès” as she was known in France. Her opera was performed 13 times. The jaded French audiences were already quite familiar with the sensational Mademoiselle Holmès, it seems.

Born in Paris in 1847 of Irish parents, Augusta was a prodigy as a child, a stunning beauty as a young woman, and a diligent composition student of César Franck’s. And, rare for her time, she was a financially independent artist due to a fortune inherited from her father. Rarer still: Holmes’ scores were championed and premiered by Parisian orchestras, and she received major commissions for elaborate national celebrations.

By the time of her death in 1903, however, Holmes was regarded as a curious but minor figure in the history of French music. In our time, her works are being reappraised and occasionally performed.

Augusta Holmès (1847-1903): Irlande (Ireland) Symphonic Poem; Rheinland-Pfalz Philharmonic; Samuel Friedmann, conductor; Marco Polo 8.223449

On today’s date in 1996, a trio of soloists joined forces with the Minnesota Orchestra for the premiere performance of a new concerto by the American composer Ellen Taafe Zwilich. This Triple Concerto was commissioned by those soloists — pianist Joseph Kalichstein, violinist Jaime Laredo and cellist Sharon Robinson — and no less than five orchestras in addition to Minnesota’s.

Now, the most famous concerto for piano, violin, cello and orchestra is by Beethoven, as Zwilich well knows. “My Triple Concerto is scored for exactly the same instrumentation as Beethoven’s,” she wrote, “although Beethoven would certainly be startled by some of the American jazz techniques and the extraordinary facility the modern timpanist can be expected to have at his fingertips … My piece has other vague and hidden references to Beethoven, as a kind of homage to a composer who has deeply affected my life.”

“As contemporary artists always have, today’s composers exist at a juncture between past and present,” continued Zwilich. “And all of us, whether we write, perform or listen to music, face a similar challenge: how to relate meaningfully to the past without becoming imbedded in it; how to press toward the future without abandoning the richness of our heritage.”

Ellen Taafe Zwilich (b. 1939): Triple Concerto; Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio; Florida State University; Michael Stern, conductor; Koch 7537

On today’s date in 2009, Hilary Hahn premiered a new violin concerto by American composer Jennifer Higdon, a work tailor-made for the violinist, according to Higdon: “She’s got gorgeous tone in the top register, but also down really low, so I tried to utilize her entire range, her lyrical gift, her ability to play super fast and negotiate through complex meter changes.”

When asked if it wasn’t intimidating writing a violin concerto in the 21st century, considering the incredible legacy of great violin concertos already written, Higdon said a little intimidation is a good thing: “There’s nothing like fear to get the imagination running. Starting a piece is the worst, and that can stretch from one day to three weeks of agony. The cats run and hide.”

Higdon’s Violin Concerto for Hilary Hahn won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Music, and the composer said she found that out in a very 21st century fashion, when she noticed her cell phone was suddenly flooded with dozens and dozens of messages.

“I jumped up and down a little,” she confessed — and that probably scared her cats, too.

The cats’ names, for the record, are Beau and Squeak.

Jennifer Higdon (b. 1962): Violin Concerto; Hilary Hahn, violin; Royal Liverpool Philharmonic; Vasily Petrenko, conductor; DG 146980-2

In Vienna, on today’s date in 1907, the String Quartet No. 1 by Austrian composer Arnold Schoenberg had its first performance by the Rosé Quartet, an ensemble headed by Arnold Rosé, the concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic and Gustav Mahler’s brother-in-law.

One eyewitness reported: “Many found the work impossible, and left the hall during the performance, one rather humorously through the emergency exit. As the hissing continued afterward, Gustav Mahler, who was present, approached one of the unsatisfied and said: ‘You should not hiss!’ — to which the unhappy audience member responded: ‘Don’t worry — I hiss your symphonies, too!’”

In 1936, Schoenberg was living in Los Angeles, where one of his students was the Hollywood composer Alfred Newman. Newman arranged to have all four of Schoenberg’s quartets recorded by the visiting Kolisch Quartet at the United Artists Studios in Hollywood. To do this, Newman had to first obtain permission from none other than film mogul Samuel Goldwyn.

“And so, a hack movie-musician, a movie producer, and a movie studio made possible the recording of four important modern compositions. Once in a while, you see, we can be unfaithful to the great god Profit,” recalled Newman years later.

Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951): String Quartet No. 1; Kolisch Quartet; Music and Arts 1056