We’re back! Last night’s concert threw me a little out of whack (you can read the result here), but the daily digest continues. But I’m a day behind. Here’s what happened yesterday:
This morning’s session shone a bright spotlight on small bands from around the country, featuring 2 showcase sessions and 2 additional panels on the subject (full disclosure: I was privileged to appear on the second panel alongside Chris Dobbins from Washington and Lee University and Jordan Kinsey from Wesley College). The showcases featured recordings from 14 select bands, presented by their directors as follows:
University of Wisconsin Stevens Point/Michael Butler – Symphony no. 4 by David Maslanka
Calvin College/Tiffany Engle – Concertino for Flute and Wind Ensemble by Keith Gates
Duke University/Verena Mösenbichler-Bryant – Goodnight Moon by Eric Whitacre (arr. Mösenbichler-Bryant)
University of Alabama Huntsville/David Ragsdale – Firefly by Ryan George
California State University Bakersfield/Leo Sakamoto – Canzona by Peter Mennin and Earth Song by Frank Ticheli
Eastern New Mexico University/Dustin Seifert – Symphony no. 4: Bookmarks from Japan by Julie Giroux
College of Saint Benedict & Saint John’s University/Justin Zanchuk – Traveler by David Maslanka
Pomona College/Graydon Beeks – Autobiography by Robert Russell Bennett
Capital University/Jeff Gershman – Firefly by Ryan George
Ouachita Baptist University/Craig Hamilton – One Life Beautiful by Julie Giroux
Indiana University of Pennsylvania/Timothy Paul – Bullets & Bayonets by John Philip Sousa and the second movement of Symphony no. 6 by Vincent Persichetti
Concordia University Ann Arbor/Bill Perrine – Luther in Canon by James Stevenson
Illinois College/Christian Secrist – Excerpts from The Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky, arr. Buckley
Whitworth University/Richard Strauch – In This Broad Earth by Steven Bryant
It was inspiring to hear the successes of these fine small(ish) bands. It would have been even better to give them time to talk about how they achieved their successes, especially those who have grown from even smaller programs. Also, some consideration should be given to better defining a small band program. While I appreciate the ability to self-select into that category, I feel compelled to question whether an organization that has published multiple recordings, has hundreds of music majors, or has played live at other conferences has a place in this showcase.
The afternoon concerts began with the Texas State University Wind Symphony, led by Caroline Beatty:
Arrival Platform Humlet – Percy Grainger, ed. Patterson
City of Ambition – Theresa Martin (world premiere)
Elegy for Our Children – Cynthia Van Maanen
Flourishes and Meditations on a Renaissance Theme – Michael Gandolfi
Dreams of a Witches’ Sabbath from Symphonie Fantastique – Hector Berlioz, trans. Merlin Patterson
This was another band of almost all undergrads. They had a big, warm sound, particularly in the brass. Caroline Beatty was wonderful to watch, particularly as she snuck on stage during each tuning note rather than coming in to applause. Of the music, the Martin had big, brash, and busy outer movements with a meditative and evocative inner movement. The Van Maanen came into its present form as a response to the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting, but it is less a narrative than a meditation on grief. The Gandolfi was machine-like, with the edges of its variations blurred. With no disrespect to the three living composers who were in the audience, it was nice to see some familiar names, Grainger and Berlioz, bookending the program.
Next up was a very different group, the Foot in the Door Ensemble from the Hartt School of Music, led by Glen Adsit and Edward Cumming. These 21 rotating musicians played a chamber program of the following:
The Last Hive Mind – Shuying Li (world premiere)
Guignol: Concerto for Bassoon – Stephen Gryc, with bassoonist Marc Goldberg
Tetris – Lior Navok
la flor mas linda – Gilda Lyons
Labyrinth of Love (selections) – Michael Daugherty, with soprano Gilda Lyons
This small group had a versatile ensemble sound, flexible to minuscule and epic textures. Their matching shirts gave an extra impression of cohesion and connection. The conductors both came across as sincere collaborators, giving the musicians plenty of freedom. This was sometimes necessary in the Li, which teemed with colorful, contemporary effects. The Gryc sounded at first like a children’s song with an undercurrent of violence, ripe with Stravsinky-isms. Its basis on a French folk tale about a puppet confirmed that impression. The Navok was busy, inspired by people walking in New York City. The Lyons was a sonic reflection on Nicaragua and some recent troubles that country has faced. I had heard the Daugherty before: it was a striking as ever, with colorful moments for both soprano and ensemble, including an extremely effective movement that used only woodblocks for accompaniment. It was wonderful to see these small ensembles presented on this epic stage.
This was all great. But the Arizona State Wind Orchestra concert will dominate my memories forever.
To call it epic would be an understatement. It was, somehow, a forward-looking career retrospective that challenged everyone to be better: players, audience, conductor, even the composers. It hit every emotional button, from reverence to awe to sheer terror. It looked like this:
Shoutout! – Roshanne Etezady
Dionysiaques – Florent Schmitt
Meditation for Concert Band – Gunther Schuller
Lincolnshire Posy – Percy Grainger
This was just the first half of the concert. Of course, the players sparkled, and Gary Hill was ever the impassioned yet selfless leader fully in his element. The Etezady brought the band to energetic life. They needed all of this energy for the Schmitt, which left me wondering what kind of insane person Schmitt must have been to write this, especially given the dearth of original, sophisticated wind music he would likely have heard at the time. The Schuller demonstrated the depth and quality of this ensemble, with their supreme attention to detail, including LINE, in this knotty piece. The Grainger brimmed with wit and risk. The tempos subtly but purposely fluctuated in the first movement. The trumpet soloist got to control the time in the second. Members of the opening and closing quintet of the third movement left the ensemble and set up on the corners of the stage. The fourth movement was the fastest I’ve ever heard it, and it segued directly into the drunkenly unpredictable chords of the fifth. The sixth added a hand bell choir for the last phrase. And the whole time, THERE WAS A BASS SAXOPHONE BEING PLAYED ON THE STAGE. Truly, a remarkable performance.
The second half went like this:
The Automatic Earth – Steven Bryant (world premiere)
The Unanswered Question – Charles Ives
Places we can no longer go – John Mackey (world premiere)
These three pieces, spanning more than an hour, were presented without a pause. This was, to say the least, emotionally difficult. The Bryant dealt with the terror of climate change and the uncertain future of humanity, complete with an atmospheric and accusatory light show and traces of the digitization of human impulses in the electronic track. I noticed several times that I hadn’t moved for long periods: I would go to scratch my nose only to be surprised at the feeling of my suit jacket on my arms. The superstitious part of me wondered: did Steve Bryant somehow engineer this experience to be the actual uploading of our consciousness into the digital cloud he imagined in his program notes? After all, we did all have to pass through weirdly silent metal detectors on our way into Gammage. (What was up with that, by the way?) Meanwhile, the Mackey portrayed the composer’s mother’s dementia in reverse, with the soprano soloist (the stunning Lindsay Kesselman) progressing from random vowel sounds to complete (often troubled) sentences over the course of 20 minutes, to poignant effect. The Ives connected the two, with the string quartet and trumpet “question” unseen. Only the increasingly agitated flute (non) answers were seen, and only then in a remnant of the light effects from the Bryant. Thematically, it was a brilliant connection, suggesting both that the question of humanity’s future at the mercy of climate change remains unanswered, and that our soprano who began the Mackey in the depths of dementia could not find and answer to her inarticulate question. The combined effect was a true emotional rollercoaster without break, and an experience I’ll never forget.
Afterwards, the conducting students of Gary Hill, myself included, presented him with a piece we commissioned from Roshanne Etezady in his honor. It was a true privilege to share his last major concert with him and all of my fellow former ASU grad conductors, in the midst of the amazing CBDNA membership.
Tomorrow, I will wrap things up with some talk about today, which will by then be yesterday.