The Language of Song
Table of Contents
I: The Flowering of Romanticism & the Rise of the Individual 5
• Scheherazade: September 27-29, 2024
• Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony: October 4-5, 2024
• Gemma New Conducts Sibelius: October 11-12, 2024
• Poulenc’s Gloria (Ravel): October 25-26, 2024
• Mendelssohn’s Third Symphony: March 7-9, 2025
II: The Muse of Poetry 13
• Reinhardt Conducts Beethoven: November 15-16, 2024
• Tchaikovsky’s Romeo & Juliet: January 24-25, 2025
• Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons: January 31-February 2, 2025
• Ingrid Fliter Plays Mozart: February 28-March 1, 2025
III: Bach, Poulenc, and The Word 21
• Poulenc’s Gloria: October 25-26, 2024
• Bach’s Christmas Oratorio: November 22-24, 2024
• Bach Celebration: March 21-23, 2025
IV: Mythology and the Birth of the Tone Poem 32
• Pines of Rome: May 9-10, 2025
V:
• American Voices: February 21-22, 2025
• Copland’s Appalachian Spring: April 4-5, 2025
• Dinur Conducts Tchaikovsky: April 26-27, 2025
• Bernstein & Bartók: May 30-31, 2025
Epilogue: The Voice as the Human Instrument 43
• Brahms Requiem: April 11-13, 2024
• Great Moments in Grand Opera: June 13-15, 2025
Words About Music: Notes From the Composers’ Desks 48
• Dobrinka Tabakova — Orpheus’ Comet: September 27-29, 2024
• Clarice Assad — Nhanderú: October 4-5, 2024
• Jessie Montgomery — Coincident Dances: October 11-12, 2024
• Camille Pépin — Aux confins de l’orage: October 25-26, 2024
• Anna Clyne — Within Her Arms: January 24-25, 2025
• Kevin Puts — Marimba Concerto: April 4-5, 2025
Prologue Letter
from Ken-David Masur, Music Director
Welcome to your Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra’s 2024-25 season, devoted to exploring the rich connections between global traditions of storytelling and the deeply human creative impulse to define the indescribable through sound. For as long as humanity has recorded its experiences, language has served to organize our thoughts and feelings into collectively understood narratives, which have in turn inspired composers for centuries.
Our season begins by paying tribute to the great storytellers of the ancient world; characters like Scheherazade and Orpheus epitomize the ideal of Romantic heroism of the 19th century, while the symphonic works of composers like Bruckner and Sibelius embody new ways of thinking about the individual artist in the world. Several programs will take poetry and the theater as their basis of inspiration, as did Prokofiev, Tchaikovsky, and Bernstein in their treatment of Romeo and Juliet, while others will center around the composers who turned to scripture for comfort and inspiration. Francis Poulenc and Johann Sebastian Bach, both deeply spiritual composers living generations apart, represent two radically different approaches to composing sacred choral music. The latter half of the season explores the 20th-century American approach to molding our own musical heritage, and we conclude with a celebration of the earliest instrument known to us: the human voice.
Why have these particular works persisted as pillars of the orchestral repertoire? And what about them makes them valuable as documents of the human experience? The answer, in part, is the immediacy of their emotional content and the universality of their ideas. More than that, music convinces us of its ubiquity as a shared human activity, serving us when emotions or ideas have transcended language’s capacity to explain.
I can’t wait to share everything this season has to offer with you. On behalf of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra, I thank you for joining us as we shape our musical story together.
Ken-David Masur
Polly and Bill Van Dyke Music Director Chair
Photo by Jonathan Kirn
I: The Flowering of Romanticism and the Rise of the Individual
By the close of the 19th century, changes to the social, political, and economic conditions that had structured much of life across the globe for the past hundred years were nothing short of seismic. Born from the aftermath of the American and French revolutions and precipitated by the advent of the industrial age, the Romantics typified a sort of countercultural response to the staunch intellectualism of Enlightenment-era Europe. Rather than reducing the ancient and natural worlds down to things to be measured, calculated, and understood, the Romantics saw them instead as places to be felt, as evidenced by Mendelssohn’s description of Holyrood Palace, the inspiration for his third symphony (March 7-9, 2025):
In the deep twilight we went today to the palace where Queen Mary lived and loved ... The chapel below is now roofless. Grass and ivy thrive there and at the broken altar where Mary was crowned Queen of Scotland. Everything is ruined, decayed, and the clear heavens pour in. I think I have found there the beginning of my “Scottish” Symphony.
—Letter to his family dated 30 July 1829
The empirical, rational ideals of the Enlightenment which had liberated the human spirit from the regimes of kings and emperors no longer served the conditions of the intellectual’s life. Instead, it was to be the virtuoso artist’s singular, uniquely unbounded imagination — influenced predominantly by intuition and not by Classical ideals of logic and structure — which was to illuminate the path. The installation of Democratic systems of government, both on the continent and abroad, inculcated a sense of nationalism, self-determinism, and individuality as art, literature, and music looked increasingly to the subconscious, the paranormal, the natural, and the psychological for inspiration.
Our season begins (September 27-29, 2024) with one of the most beloved musical narratives of the nineteenth century. Rimsky-Korsakov’s own introduction to the score condenses the story to the following few lines:
Caspar David Friedrich: Wanderer above the Sea of Fog (1818)
Louis Daguerre: The Ruins of Holyrood Chapel (1824)
ROMANTICISM
The Sultan Shahryar, persuaded of the falseness and faithlessness of women, had sworn to have each one of his wives put to death after the first night. But the Sultana Scheherazade saved her life by interesting him in the stories which she narrated for a thousand and one nights. Impelled by curiosity, the Sultan remitted the punishment of his wife day after day, and finally renounced entirely his bloodthirsty resolution.
Many wonderful things were told Shahryar by the Sultana Scheherazade. In her narratives the Sultana drew on the poets for their verses, on folksongs for their words, and intermingled tales and adventures with one another.
One Thousand and One Nights provided the ideal basis for Russian programmatic music. With the rise of globalization, individual nation-states became increasingly intertwined in their political and economic affairs. Exoticism and “Orientalism” — that is, the artistic movements typified by works cast in a distinctly Western form with only passing allusions to Eastern aesthetic frameworks — became increasingly popular cultural preoccupations as the fascination with foreign lands wove itself into the fabric of artists’ lives.
Ravel’s interpretation of the Scheherazade legend (October 25-26, 2024), composed only 16 years after Rimsky-Korsakov’s, was written from this distinctly European perspective. He set the poetry of Tristan Klingsor, a fellow member of Ravel’s artistic consortium, “Les Apaches,” to sensuous, modally-inflected music reminiscent (though not actually informed by) an imagined, impossibly distant Eastern culture. Ravel never identified with the Impressionist movement, chafing against the description despite his nearly ubiquitous alignment with it in popular culture, and the language of his Shéhérazade, infused with a sense of longing for the wild and unknown, could perhaps be described as neo-Romantic, instead:
Shéhérazade, M. 41
Poetry by Tristan Klingsor • Translation by Albrecht Gaub
I. Asie
Asie, Asie, Asie, Vieux pays merveilleux des contes de nourrice
Où dort la fantaisie comme une impératrice,
I. Asia
Asia, Asia, Asia, Ancient wonderland of fairy tales Where fantasy slumbers like an empress,
Sophie Anderson: Scheherazade (between 1850 and 1900)
Ferdinand Keller: Scheherazade und Sultan Schariar (1880)
Michel Fokine and Vera Fokina as the Golden Slave and Zobeïde in the 1910 Ballets Russes production of Scheherazade.
En sa forêt tout emplie de mystère.
Asie, je voudrais m’en aller avec la goelette
Qui se berce ce soir dans le port
Mystérieuse et solitaire,
Et qui déploie enfin ses voiles violettes
Comme un immense oiseau de nuit dans le ciel d’or.
Je voudrais m’en aller vers des îles de fleurs,
En écoutant chanter la mer perverse
Sur un vieux rythme ensorceleur.
Je voudrais voir Damas et les villes de Perse
Avec les minarets légers dans l’air.
Je voudrais voir de beaux turbans de soie
Sur des visages noirs aux dents claires;
Je voudrais voir des yeux sombres d’amour
Et des prunelles brillantes de joie
En des peaux jaunes comme des oranges;
Je voudrais voir des vêtements de velours
Et des habits à longues franges.
Je voudrais voir des calumets entre des bouches
Tout entourées de barbe blanche;
Je voudrais voir d’âpres marchands aux regards louches,
Et des cadis, et des vizirs
Qui du seul mouvement de leur doigt qui se penche
Accordent vie ou mort au gré de leur désir.
Je voudrais voir la Perse, et l’Inde, et puis la
Chine,
Les mandarins ventrus sous les ombrelles,
Et les princesses aux mains fines,
Et les lettrés qui se querellent
Sur la poésie et sur la beauté;
Je voudrais m’attarder au palais enchanté
Et comme un voyageur étranger
Contempler à loisir des paysages peints
Sur des étoffes en des cadres de sapin,
Avec un personnage au milieu d’un verger;
Je voudrais voir des assassins souriants
Du bourreau qui coupe un cou d’innocent
Avec son grand sabre courbé d’Orient.
Je voudrais voir des pauvres et des reines;
Je voudrais voir des roses et du sang;
Je voudrais voir mourir d’amour ou bien de haine.
In her forest, filled with mystery.
Asia, I would like to sail away on the schooner
That tonight rocks in the port,
Mysterious and solitary,
And that finally unfurls its purple sails
Like a huge night bird in the golden sky.
I would like to sail away to islands of flowers,
Listening to the perverted sea singing
With an old spellbinding rhythm.
I would like to see Damascus and the Persian cities
With their slender minarets in the air.
I would like to see beautiful silken turbans
Above black faces with shining teeth;
I would like to see eyes dark with love
And pupils radiant with joy
In skins, yellow like oranges; I would like to see garments of velour
And robes with long fringes.
I would like to see calumets in mouths
That are all surrounded by white beards; I would like to see grasping vendors with shifty looks,
And qadis and viziers
Who by a single move of a bending finger
Dispense life or death as they please.
I would like to see Persia, India, and then China,
The potbellied mandarins under their parasols
And the princesses with delicate hands,
And the men of letters quarreling
About poetry and beauty;
I would like to linger at the enchanted castle
And like a foreign traveler
Gaze at leisure on landscapes painted
On fabrics framed in fir wood,
With a person in the middle of an orchard; I would like to see murderers, grinning
At the executioner cutting the neck of an innocent
With his great curved Oriental scimitar.
I would like to see paupers and queens; I would like to see roses and blood; I would like to see death for love or rather for hate.
ROMANTICISM
Et puis m’en revenir plus tard
Narrer mon aventure aux curieux de rêves
En élevant comme Sindbad ma vieille tasse arabe
De temps en temps jusqu’à mes lèvres
Pour interrompre le conte avec art…
II. La flûte enchantée
L’ombre est douce et mon maître dort
Coiffé d’un bonnet conique de soie
Et son long nez jaune en sa barbe blanche.
Mais moi, je suis éveillée encore
Et j’écoute au dehors
Une chanson de flûte où s’épanche
Tour à tour la tristesse ou la joie.
Un air tour à tour langoureux ou frivole
Que mon amoureux chéri joue,
Et quand je m’approche de la croisée
Il me semble que chaque note s’envole
De la flûte vers ma joue
Comme un mystérieux baiser.
III. L’indifférent
Tes yeux sont doux comme ceux d’une fille,
Jeune étranger,
Et la courbe fine
De ton beau visage de duvet ombragé
Est plus séduisante encore de ligne.
Ta lèvre chante sur le pas de ma porte
Une langue inconnue et charmante
Comme une musique fausse…
Entre!
Et que mon vin te réconforte…
Mais non, tu passes
Et de mon seuil je te vois t’éloigner
Me faisant un dernier geste avec grâce,
Et la hanche légèrement ployée
Par ta démarche féminine et lasse…
And then, later, to return from there
Tell my adventure to those curious about dreams
Raising my ancient Arab cup like Sinbad
Up to my lips every now and then
To interrupt the tale with art…
II. The Enchanted Flute
The shade is soft, and my master sleeps
With a conical silk cap on his head
And his long yellow nose in his white beard.
But I am still awake
And I listen to the song
Of a flute outside from which flow,
Taking turns, sadness or joy.
A melody, now languorous, now frivolous
That my dear lover is playing,
And when I approach the casement,
It seems to me as if every note flew
From the flute toward my cheek
Like a mysterious kiss.
III. The Indifferent One
Your eyes are soft like a girl’s,
Young stranger,
And the fine curve
Of your beautiful down-shaded face
Is even more seductive in its shape.
Your lips sing at my doorstep
An unknown, charming language
Like distorted music…
Come in!
And may my wine satisfy you…
But no, you pass by
And from my threshold I see you walk away,
Showing me one last graceful gesture,
And with your hips lightly bent
By your languid, feminine gait...
As the century wore on, the symphonic tradition, too, grew dramatically in scope and character. The formal balance and lapidary refinement of Mozart and Haydn’s works had been radically transformed by Beethoven’s insistence upon a highly personal, immense vision of the form’s possibilities. Increasingly interdisciplinary perspectives toward composition led to a multiplicity of approaches to solving the “problem” of symphonic writing:
Mediaeval city—Daybreak—Morning calls sound from the city towers—the gates open—On proud horses the knights burst out into the open, the magic of nature envelops them—forest murmurs—bird song—and so the Romantic picture develops further...
—Bernhard Deubler on Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4 in E-flat, “Romantic” (October 4-5, 2024)
Bruckner is regarded, alongside Gustav Mahler, as a figurehead of late Romanticism; both composed increasingly lengthy and harmonically adventurous symphonic works which seemed to continually look outward in an attempt, as Mahler famously quipped to Jean Sibelius, to be “like the world.” His first symphony, thus aptly earning the moniker of the “Titan,” actually recycled musical material from his Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (October 4-5, 2024), a lesser-known song cycle inspired by the German folk poetry of Des Knaben Wunderhorn (“The Boy’s Magic Horn”). The lyrics themselves, however, were entirely Mahler’s:
Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen
Poetry by Gustav Mahler • Translation by Albrecht Gaub
I. Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht
Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht, Fröhliche Hochzeit macht, Hab’ ich meinen traurigen Tag!
Geh’ ich in mein Kämmerlein, Dunkles Kämmerlein, Weine, wein’ um meinen Schatz, Um meinen lieben Schatz!
Blümlein blau! Verdorre nicht!
Vöglein süß!
Du singst auf grüner Heide.
Ach, wie ist die Welt so schön! Ziküth! Ziküth!
Singet nicht! Blühet nicht!
Lenz ist ja vorbei!
Alles Singen ist nun aus.
Des Abends, wenn ich schlafen geh’, Denk’ ich an mein Leide. An mein Leide!
I. When my beloved has her wedding
When my beloved has her wedding, Her merry wedding, I will have my sad day! I will go to my little room, Dark little room, Will cry for my beloved, For my dear beloved!
Blue flower! Do not wither.
Sweet little bird!
You sing on the green heath!
Ah, how beautiful the world is!
Chirp! Chirp!
Do not sing. Do not bloom. Spring is surely gone!
All singing is over now!
At night, when I go to bed, I think of my woe!
Of my woe!
The organ Bruckner performed on from 1848-1855 at St. Florian’s Priory in Sankt Florian, Austria.
ROMANTICISM
II. Ging heut morgen übers Feld
Ging heut morgen übers Feld,
Tau noch auf den Gräsern hing;
Sprach zu mir der lust’ge Fink:
“Ei du! Gelt? Guten Morgen! Ei gelt?
Du! Wird’s nicht eine schöne Welt?
Zink! Zink! Schön und flink!
Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt!”
Auch die Glockenblum’ am Feld
Hat mir lustig, guter Ding’,
Mit den Glöckchen, klinge, kling, Ihren Morgengruß geschellt:
“Wird’s nicht eine schöne Welt?
Kling, kling! Schönes Ding!
Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt! Heia!”
Und da fing im Sonnenschein
Gleich die Welt zu funkeln an;
Alles Ton und Farbe gewann
Im Sonnenschein!
Blum’ und Vogel, groß und klein!
“Guten Tag, ist’s nicht eine schöne Welt?
Ei du, gelt? Schöne Welt?”
Nun fängt auch mein Glück wohl an?
Nein, nein, das ich mein’, Mir nimmer blühen kann!
III. Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer
Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer, Ein Messer in meiner Brust, O Weh! Das schneid’t so tief
In jede Freud’ und jede Lust. Ach, was ist das für ein böser Gast!
Nimmer hält er Ruh’, nimmer hält er Rast, Nicht bei Tag, noch bei Nacht, wenn ich schlief.
O Weh!
Wenn ich in dem Himmel seh’, Seh’ ich zwei blaue Augen stehn.
O Weh! Wenn ich im gelben Felde geh’, Seh’ ich von fern das blonde Haar
Im Winde wehn.
O Weh!
II. Walked over the field this morning
Walked over the field this morning, Dew still clung to the leaves of grass; Said to me the merry finch:
“Hey you! Sure? Good morning! Sure? You! Won’t it be a lovely world?
Chirp! Chirp! Lovely and nimble! How I like the world!”
Also, the bluebell near the field
Sounded to me merrily, cheerfully, With its bells, ding, dong, Its morning greeting:
“Won’t it be a lovely world?
Ding, ding! Lovely thing! How I like the world! Oh yeah!”
And behold, in the sunshine
The world soon began to sparkle; Everything assumed hue and color In the sunshine!
Flower and bird, big and small!
“Good day, isn’t it a lovely world?
“Hey you! Sure? Lovely world!”
Now my luck will begin, too, will it?
No, no, what I mean, Cannot shine for me ever again!
III. I have a red‑hot knife
I have a red-hot knife, A knife in my chest, O woe! It cuts so deeply Into any joy and any pleasure!
Alas, what an evil guest it is! This guest never sleeps, He never rests, Not by day, not by night When I would sleep! O woe!
When I look at the sky, I see two blue eyes!
O woe! When I walk in the yellow field, I see blond hair from afar Waving in the wind!
O woe!
Wenn ich aus dem Traum auffahr’ Und höre klingen ihr silbern’ Lachen, O Weh!
Ich wollt’, ich läg auf der schwarzen Bahr’, Könnt’ nimmer die Augen aufmachen!
IV. Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz
Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz, Die haben mich in die weite Welt geschickt. Da mußt’ ich Abschied nehmen vom allerliebsten Platz!
O Augen blau, warum habt ihr mich angeblickt?
Nun hab’ ich ewig Leid und Grämen.
Ich bin ausgegangen in stiller Nacht Wohl über die dunkle Heide. Hat mir niemand Ade gesagt. Ade!
Mein Gesell’ war Lieb’ und Leide!
Auf der Straße steht stand ein Lindenbaum, Da hab’ ich zum ersten Mal im Schlaf geruht!
Unter dem Lindenbaum, Der hat seine Blüten über mich geschneit, Da wußt’ ich nicht, wie das Leben tut, War alles, alles wieder gut! Alles! Alles, Lieb und Leid Und Welt und Traum!
When I start from a dream And hear her silvery laugh ringing, O woe!
I wish I were lying on the black bier And could no longer open my eyes!
IV. The two blue eyes of my beloved
The two blue eyes of my beloved Sent me off into the wide world. So I had to part with my dearest place!
O blue eyes, why did you look at me?
Now I will have eternal sorrow and grief!
I left in the silent night
Over the dark heath.
Nobody bade me farewell, Farewell!
My companion was love and sorrow!
On the road there stood a linden tree, There I found rest in sleep for the first time! Under the linden tree, Which snowed its blossoms over me, There I forgot what life was like, All, all was well again!
All! All, love and sorrow And world and dream!
Where Mahler insisted that the symphony “must contain everything,” Sibelius described his own music in wholly different terms: “Whereas most other modern composers are engaged in manufacturing cocktails of every hue and description, I offer the public pure cold water.”
Throughout his life, Sibelius sought inspiration in the majesty of the natural world; it seems fitting, then, that his second symphony (October 11-12, 2024) was described by Sir Colin Davis with a quote from William Wordsworth’s “The Prelude” in the liner notes of his 1976 recording with the Boston Symphony Orchestra:
Grand in itself alone, but in that breach
Through which the homeless voice of waters rose
That dark deep thoroughfare, had Nature lodged The Soul, the Imagination of the whole.
Sketch of Jean Sibelius by Albert Engström (1904)
1915 photograph of the family of Aino and Jean Sibelius in Ainola - Aino, Heidi, Margareta, Katarina, and Jean in the dining room.
Castle at Rapallo harbor, where Sibelius began composing the second symphony on vacation in 1901.
II: The Muse of Poetry
I.
Yet once again, ye Muses! once again Saddle the Hyppogryf! and wing my way Where regions of romance their charms display. What lovely dreams entrance th’ unfetter’d brain? Who round my brow the wreath enchanted braids? Who from my ravish’d eye dispels the shades That veil the wonders of the world of old?
Now conquering, conquer’d now, in battle bold, I see the knight’s good sword, the Pagan’s sparkling blade.
II.
In vain the hoary sultan foams: in vain A wood of threatening lances bristles round: It breathes, the ivory horn with sprightly sound, And, whirl’d in eddying dance, the giddy train Spin, till their breath and senses die away. Triumph! the Fair is won: why, knight, delay? Forward to Rome: for thee th’ extended sail And beck’ning streamer fly before the gale. Haste! that the holy sire may bless your bridal day!
III.
Oh, may ye not the sweet forbidden fruit Taste ere the time! beware the rash delight! Fair blow consenting gales to speed your flight. In two fleet days, at rest from vain pursuit, Ye gain in peace Hesperia’s golden ground. If aught can save, while reeling joys confound, Save them, true Sherasmin! — their drunken souls Hear not Heav’n’s warning voice tho’ thunder rolls. Can Love so steep the sense in sudden trance profound?
So opens the grand epic poem Oberon by Christoph Martin Wieland, one of the most influential examples of German epic poetry of the modern era. The tale revolves around Huon, a young duke, who must overcome strife and conflict to save both his life and that of his intended lover, Rezia. Central to the story’s telling is the support he receives from Oberon, king of the fairies, and the conflict between Oberon and Titania, his wife. The
Joseph Noel Paton: The Reconciliation of Titania and Oberon (1847)
story, of course, provided a model template for the Romantic imagination — and in 1826, Carl Maria von Weber’s final opera, Oberon, or The Elf-King’s Oath (the overture to which will be featured in our concerts November 15-16, 2024), opened as a resounding success.
If the names of these characters strike you as familiar, that’s because Wieland drew inspiration from a number of sources, including Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It is difficult to overstate how influential the “Bard of Avon” was throughout cultural history; our present season alone features three different interpretations of Romeo and Juliet, each composed some 30 years apart. The most recognizable of these is almost certain to be Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Overture-Fantasy (January 24-25, 2025), modeled after three focal points of the play: Friar Laurence, the spiritual advisor to the young lovers, the civil aggression waged between Montague and Capulet, and the infamous “love theme,” conjuring up the image of Romeo and Juliet waxing poetic in the moonlight. The excerpts below, taken from the Prologue and Act II of the play, offer a link between Shakespeare’s words and the thematic material Tchaikovsky derived from them:
Friar Laurence: These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Chorus: Two households, both alike in dignity (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene), From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife. The fearful passage of their death-marked love And the continuance of their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove, Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage; The which, if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
Act II, Scene 6, 9-15
Prologue
Set design for Act II, Scene 1 of Carl Maria von Weber’s opera Oberon by Philippe Chaperon.
Romeo: But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my lady. O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold. ’Tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!
Juliet: Ay me.
Romeo: She speaks.
O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,
As is a wingèd messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturnèd wond’ring eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
Juliet: O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name,
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
Romeo: Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Juliet: ’Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Hans Makart: Romeo and Juliet (1886)
POETRY
Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name Belonging to a man. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.
In 1936, Prokofiev and his family finally settled in Moscow after living abroad for more than 15 years. He had signed a contract with the Bolshoi Theatre the previous summer after identifying Romeo and Juliet (February 28 & March 1, 2025) as his chosen scenario and composed the score that autumn. Despite interference from the Soviet authorities, significant revisions to the score, and the many frustrations of the dancers over the highly rhythmic quality of the music, the ballet premiered in its present incarnation at the Kirov Theatre to immediate success. An entry from Prokofiev’s own diary reveals just how fraught the ballet’s genesis was:
Act II, Scene 2, 2-52
At the end of December (of 1934) I returned to Leningrad specifically for the negotiations with the Kirov Theatre. I expressed my wish to find a lyrical scenario for a ballet … We started recalling the scenarios: Piotrovsky named Pelléas and Méllisande, Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet. I immediately “clung” onto the latter — it would be impossible to find a better one! It was arranged that Piotrovsky, Radlov and I would be making a libretto. It was decided to engage as a producer Rostislav Zakharov — a former student of Radlov … However, we didn’t conclude a contract with the Kirov Theatre … I arrived in Moscow, and Golovanov, the then chief conductor of the Bolshoi Theatre said that if this was about “Romeo” the Bolshoi Theatre would immediately conclude a contract with me. The contract was signed in the summer of 1935. The theatre gave me the opportunity to work on the ballet in “Polenovo” — the holiday home of the Bolshoi theatre, where I managed to almost finish the ballet using themes composed in the spring. An audition of the ballet took place in the theatre. It had no success. The ballet was not put on the stage at that time… Yet it was staged in the Kirov Theatre in 1940. R. Zakharov dropped out after the ballet had been rejected by the Bolshoi theatre. Lavrovsky, on the other hand, during the staging of the ballet in Leningrad, added quite a lot to what had been composed before him. Later I decided to include him in the co-authors of the libretto.
Prokofiev’s jaunty, dissonant, modernist score is preceded by Carl Nielsen’s Pan and Syrinx, inspired itself by poetry more ancient than Shakespeare’s. The Greco-Roman legend tells the story of the faun-God Pan, who obsessively pursues the nymph Syrinx. In her desperation, Syrinx turns to the naiads of the river, who metamorphose her into a cluster of reeds; Pan, in his disappointment, fashions her into the first pan flute, which the ancient Greeks would refer to as Syrinx forevermore.
Ballet dancers performing a scene from Sergei Prokofiev’s ballet Romeo and Juliet staged at the State Academic Bolshoi Theater of the USSR photographed on March 1, 1954 by Evgeny Umnov.
In the first century of the Common Era, the Roman poet Ovid immortalized the story in his poetic Metamorphoses1:
“Ah wretched me!” her father cried; and as he clung around her horns and neck repeated while she groaned, “Ah wretched me! Art thou my daughter sought in every clime? When lost I could not grieve for thee as now that thou art found; thy sighs instead of words heave up from thy deep breast, thy longings give me answer. I prepared the nuptial torch and bridal chamber, in my ignorance, since my first hope was for a son in law; and then I dreamed of children from the match: but now the herd may furnish thee a mate, and all thy issue of the herd must be. Oh that a righteous death would end my grief!— it is a dreadful thing to be a God! Behold the lethal gate of death is shut against me, and my growing grief must last throughout eternity.”
While thus he moaned came starry Argus there, and Io bore from her lamenting father. Thence he led his charge to other pastures; and removed from her, upon a lofty mountain sat, whence he could always watch her, undisturbed.
The sovereign god no longer could endure to witness Io’s woes. He called his son,
whom Maia brightest of the Pleiades brought forth, and bade him slay the star eyed guard, Argus. He seized his sleep compelling wand and fastened waving wings on his swift feet, and deftly fixed his brimmed hat on his head:— lo, Mercury, the favoured son of Jove, descending to the earth from heaven’s plains, put off his cap and wings,— though still retained his wand with which he drove through pathless wilds some stray she goats, and as a shepherd fared, piping on oaten reeds melodious tunes.
Argus, delighted with the charming sound of this new art began; “Whoever thou art, sit with me on this stone beneath the trees in cooling shade, whilst browse the tended flock abundant herbs; for thou canst see the shade is fit for shepherds.” Wherefore, Mercury sat down beside the keeper and conversed of various things—passing the laggard hours.— then soothly piped he on the joined reeds to lull those ever watchful eyes asleep; but Argus strove his languor to subdue, and though some drowsy eyes might slumber, still were some that vigil kept. Again he spoke, (for the pipes were yet a recent art) “I pray thee tell what chance discovered these.”
To him the God, “A famous Naiad dwelt among the Hamadryads, on the cold Arcadian summit Nonacris, whose name was Syrinx. Often she escaped the Gods, that wandered in the groves of sylvan shades, and often fled from Satyrs that pursued. Vowing virginity, in all pursuits she strove to emulate Diana’s ways: and as that graceful goddess wears her robe, so Syrinx girded hers that one might well believe Diana there. Even though her bow were made of horn, Diana’s wrought of gold, yet might she well deceive. Now chanced it Pan. Whose head was girt with prickly pines, espied
1 Ovidius Naso, Publius, Brookes More, and Wilmon Brewer. 1978. Ovid’s Metamorphoses [Rev. ed.] ed. Francestown New Hampshire: M. Jones.
Ignaz Elhafen: Pan Pursuing Syrinx (1690-1695)
POETRY
the Nymph returning from the Lycian Hill, and these words uttered he: ” —But Mercury refrained from further speech, and Pan’s appeal remains untold. If he had told it all, the tale of Syrinx would have followed thus:—
but she despised the prayers of Pan, and fled through pathless wilds until she had arrived the placid Ladon’s sandy stream, whose waves prevented her escape. There she implored her sister Nymphs to change her form: and Pan,
believing he had caught her, held instead some marsh reeds for the body of the Nymph; and while he sighed the moving winds began to utter plaintive music in the reeds, so sweet and voice-like that poor Pan exclaimed; “Forever this discovery shall remain a sweet communion binding thee to me.” — and this explains why reeds of different length, when joined together by cementing wax, derive the name of Syrinx from the maid.
Perhaps the most enigmatic poems to be found in these programs, however, belong to some of the most beloved works of music in the canon: Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons (January 31 February 2, 2025) In its original publication of 1725, each concerto was paired with a matching sonnet, with each sonnet divided into three fragments, mirroring the Baroque concerto model. While their authorship is the subject of ongoing debate, Vivaldi himself remains the likeliest candidate, offering musical imitations of the poetry throughout each of the twelve movements:
The title page of Vivaldi’s Cimento dell’Armonia e dell’Invenzione, published in 1725, which included The Four Seasons.
Le quattro stagioni
Translation by David Jensen
I. La primavera
Allegro
Giunt’ è la Primavera e festosetti
La Salutan gl’ Augei con lieto canto, E i fonti allo Spirar de’ Zeffiretti
Con dolce mormorio Scorrono intanto: Vengon’ coprendo l’ aer di nero amanto
E Lampi, e tuoni ad annuntiarla eletti
Indi tacendo questi, gl’ Augelletti; Tornan’ di nuovo al lor canoro incanto:
Largo
E quindi sul fiorito ameno prato
Al caro mormorio di fronde e piante
Dorme ‘l Caprar col fido can’ à lato.
I. Spring
Allegro
The spring has arrived with revelry; The birds greet her with joyful song, And brooks caressed by gentle Zephyrs With a sweet murmuring flow along. Then they come, covering the sky in a dark veil, Thunder and lightning, announcing a storm. Then silence returns, and these same little birds
Again resume their enchanting song.
Largo
And then in the lovely, flowering meadow, To the sweet rustling of the leaves and plants, The goat-herd sleeps with his faithful dog at his side.
Allegro
Di pastoral Zampogna al suon festante
Danzan Ninfe e Pastor nel tetto amato
Di primavera all’ apparir brillante.
II. L’estate
Allegro non molto
Sotto dura Staggion dal Sole accesa
Langue l’ huom, langue ‘l gregge, ed arde il Pino;
Scioglie il Cucco la Voce, e tosto Intesa
Canta la Tortorella e ‘l gardelino.
Zeffiro dolce Spira, mà contesa
Muove Borea improviso al Suo vicino;
E piange il Pastorel, perche sospesa
Teme fiera borasca, e ‘l suo destino;
Adagio e piano – Presto e forte
Toglie alle membra lasse il Suo riposo
Il timore de’ Lampi, e tuoni fieri
E de mosche, e mosconi il Stuol furioso!
Presto
Ah, che pur troppo i Suo timor Son veri
Tuona e fulmina il Ciel e grandinoso
Tronca il capo alle Spiche e a’ grani alteri.
III. L’autunno
Allegro
Celebra il Vilanel con balli e Canti
Del felice raccolto il bel piacere
E del liquor de Bacco accesi tanti
Finiscono col Sonno il lor godere.
Adagio molto
Fà ch’ ogn’ uno tralasci e balli e canti
L’ aria che temperata dà piacere,
E la Staggion ch’ invita tanti e tanti
D’ un dolcissimo Sonno al bel godere.
Allegro
I cacciator alla nov’ alba à caccia
Con corni, Schioppi, e cani escono fuore
Allegro
To the festive sounds of the rustic bagpipes
Dance the nymphs and shepherds in their beloved home
Under the radiant canopy of spring..
II. Summer
Allegro non molto
Beneath the harsh season under the blazing Sun, Man and his flock languish and the pine burns;
The cuckoo’s voice sounds, and soon
The turtledove and the goldfinch join in his song.
Sweetly blows the Zephyr, but suddenly the North wind wars with his neighbor;
The shepherd weeps, for above him hangs
The fiercest storm – and his fate.
Adagio e piano – Presto e forte
Gone from his weary limbs is repose, Stolen from him by the fear of lightning, of fierce thunder, And by the furious crowds of flies and hornets.
Presto
Alas, that his worst fears should come to pass: The heavens fill with terrible thunder, proudly Cutting down his tall rows of grain.
III. Autumn
Allegro
The peasant celebrates, with dance and song, The lucky pleasure of a harvest deep; And then, alight with Bacchus’ liquor, Their celebration ends with sleep.
Adagio molto
Let everyone leave aside their dancing and singing For the temperate air that pleases so, And for the season that invites so many
To find sweet bliss in sleep.
Allegro
The hunters at the new dawn go hunting — With horns, guns, and dogs, they venture out.
POETRY
Fugge la belva, e Seguono la traccia; Già Sbigottita, e lassa al gran rumore
De’ Schioppi e cani, ferita minaccia
Languida di fuggir, mà oppressa muore.
IV. L’inverno
Allegro non molto
Agghiacciato tremar trà nevi algenti
Al Severo Spirar d’ orrido Vento, Correr battendo i piedi ogni momento; E pel Soverchio gel batter i denti;
Largo
Passar al foco i dì quieti e contenti
Mentre la pioggia fuor bagna ben cento
Allegro
Caminar Sopra il giaccio, e à passo lento
Per timor di cader girsene intenti; Gir forte Sdruzziolar, cader à terra
Di nuove ir Sopra ‘l giaccio e correr forte
Sin ch’ il giaccio si rompe, e si disserra; Sentir uscir dalle ferrate porte
Sirocco, Borea, e tutti i Venti in Guerra
Quest’ é ‘l verno, mà tal, che gioja apporte.
The beast flees and they follow the trail; But already weary, and terrified by the great noise Of guns and dogs, now wounded, it tries
To flee, but harmed, dies.
IV. Winter
Allegro non molto
Chilled and trembling among the icy snows, At the fierce blow of a bitter wind
We run, constantly stamping our feet; And from the chill of frost, our teeth chatter.
Largo
Passing the quiet and contented days by the fire
While the rain outside soaks everyone.
Allegro
We tread on the ice, and at a slow pace
For fear of falling, one goes about intently; Then turning fast, slipping, falling to the ground, Once again to hasten across the ice
Until the ice breaks and opens.
To hear the winds escaping their iron-gated house, Southern, Northern, and all the winds at war, This is winter — but one with joy.
III: Bach, Poulenc, and The Word
Last season, the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra celebrated its first Bach Festival, a week-long celebration devoted to the life and music of Johann Sebastian Bach. MSO musicians, community partners, and volunteers came together for a series of performances throughout the city in churches, cafés, lounges, partner arts venues, City Hall, and the Bradley Symphony Center. We’re delighted to continue this tradition, and forge new ones, with another week of community performances and subscription concerts featuring Bach’s music: the Milwaukee Symphony Chorus, for their part, will sing the first three cantatas of the six which comprise his Christmas Oratorio
Bach was a deeply religious man and a devout Lutheran, regularly setting scripture and sacred text to music as part of his employment at various churches throughout Germany, writing chorales, cantatas, oratorios, masses, and motets by the hundreds. As recently as 2015, Christoph Birkmann, a pupil of Bach’s in Leipzig in the 1720s, was identified as the author of the libretto for Bach’s cantata Ich habe genug (“I have enough” — March 21-23, 2025). Derived from the readings for the Feast of the Purifcation of Mary — namely from the book of Malachi and the Gospel of Luke — the text describes the longing for release from the mortal condition and all earthly suffering:
Ich habe genug, BWV 82
Translation © Michael Marissen & Daniel R. Melamed • BachCantataTexts.org
I.
Ich habe genug,
Ich habe den Heiland, das Hoffen der Frommen, Auf meine begierigen Arme genommen, Ich hab ihn erblickt,
Mein Glaube hat Jesum ans Herze gedrückt; Nun wünsch ich noch heute mit Freuden
Von hinnen zu scheiden:
Ich habe genug.
Ich habe genug.
I.
I have enough;
I have taken the savior, the hope of the pious, Into my eager arms; I have beheld him;
My faith has pressed Jesus to my heart; Now I wish, with joy, this very day
To depart from here:
I have enough.
II.
Mein Trost ist nur allein,
Dass Jesus mein und ich sein eigen möchte sein.
Im Glauben halt ich ihn,
Da seh ich auch mit Simeon
Die Freude jenes Lebens schon.
Lasst uns mit diesem Manne ziehn!
Ach! möchte mich von meines Leibes Ketten
II.
I have enough.
My one and only consolation is That Jesus would be my own and I his. I hold him in faith;
Thus, with Simeon, I, too, already see The joy of that life [in heaven].
Let us go with this man [Jesus, to die].
Ah, that from my body’s chains
St. Nicholas Church in Leipzig, where the Christmas Oratorio was given its first performance. (Berthold Werner)
Der Herr erretten; Ach! wäre doch mein Abschied hier, Mit Freuden sagt ich, Welt, zu dir: Ich habe genug.
III.
Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen, Fallet sanft und selig zu!
Welt, ich bleibe nicht mehr hier, Hab ich doch kein Teil an dir, Das der Seele könnte taugen. Hier muss ich das Elend bauen, Aber dort, dort werd ich schauen Süssen Frieden, stille Ruh.
IV.
Mein Gott, wenn kömmt das schöne: Nun!, Da ich im Friede fahren werde Und in dem Sande kühler Erde Und dort bei dir im Schosse ruhn?
Der Abschied ist gemacht: Welt, gute Nacht!
V.
Ich freue mich auf meinen Tod, Ach! hätt er sich schon eingefunden. Da entkomm ich aller Not, Die mich noch auf der Welt gebunden.
The monumental Weihnachtsoratorium (“Christmas Oratorio”), a collection of six cantatas composed for the Christmas season of 1734-35, was conceived for performance at the St. Thomas and St. Nicholas churches in Leipzig, where Bach served as Thomaskantor. Bach recycled his own music from past sacred and secular cantatas, along with Lutheran hymns and chorale tunes, to realize the story of the Gospel on an operatic scale. Each of the cantatas was to be performed over six separate feast days of the Christmas season and aligned with the scriptural readings at each service — namely from the Gospels of Luke and Matthew. The first three cantatas relate the nativity of Christ, the annunciation to the shepherds, and their adoration of the newborn Christ:
The Lord would rescue me; Ah, were indeed my leave-taking here, I would say with joy to you, world: I have enough.
III.
Fall into [death’s] slumber, you languid eyes, Droop gently and blissfully shut. World, I will remain here no longer; I have indeed no share in you That could be fit for my soul.
Here [on earth] I must build up misery, But there [in heaven], there I will look upon Sweet peace, quiet rest.
IV.
My God, when will the beautiful “Now” come, When I will go in peace, And rest [here] in the sand of the cold earth And there with you in the bosom [of Abraham—heaven]?
I have taken my leave: World, good night.
V.
I look forward to my death; Ah, had it already come about. Then I will escape all the distress That [had] bound me yet in the world.
Bach’s portrait in the stained glass windows of the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig.
Jauchzet, frohlocket! Auf, preiset die Tage, BWV 248 I
Translation by Albrecht Gaub
I.
Jauchzet, frohlocket, auf, preiset die Tage, Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!
Lasset das Zagen, verbannet die Klage, Stimmet voll Jauchzen und Fröhlichkeit an! Dienet dem Höchsten mit herrlichen Chören, Laßt uns den Namen des Herrschers verehren!
II.
Es begab sich aber zu der Zeit, daß ein Gebot von dem Kaiser Augusto ausging, daß alle Welt geschätzet würde. Und jedermann ging, daß er sich schätzen ließe, ein jeglicher in seine Stadt. Da machte sich auch auf Joseph aus Galiläa, aus der Stadt Nazareth, in das jüdische Land zur Stadt David, die da heißet Bethlehem; darum, daß er von dem Hause und Geschlechte David war: auf daß er sich schätzen ließe mit Maria, seinem vertrauten Weibe, die war schwanger. Und als sie daselbst waren, kam die Zeit, daß sie gebären sollte.
Luke 2:1, 3–6
III.
Nun wird mein liebster Bräutigam, Nun wird der Held aus Davids Stamm Zum Trost, zum Heil der Erden Einmal geboren werden.
Nun wird der Stern aus Jakob scheinen, Sein Strahl bricht schon hervor.
Auf, Zion, und verlasse nun das Weinen, Dein Wohl steigt hoch empor!
IV.
Bereite dich, Zion, mit zärtlichen Trieben, Den Schönsten, den Liebsten bald bei dir zu sehn!
Deine Wangen Müssen heut viel schöner prangen, Eile, den Bräutigam sehnlichst zu lieben!
I.
Sound forth, rejoice, go and praise these days, Glorify what the Highest has done today! Stop hesitation, banish laments, Sound forth full of delight and happiness! Serve the Highest with glorious choruses, Let us honor the name of the Ruler!
II.
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.
III.
Now will my dearest bridegroom, Now will the hero from David’s stem, For the comfort, for the salvation of the earth, Be born at last.
Now will the star out of Jacob shine, Its light already breaks forth.
Go, Zion, and give up your weeping now, Your well-being rises high above you!
IV.
Prepare yourself, Zion, with tender efforts, To behold the most beautiful, most beloved near you soon!
Your cheeks
Must now glow much more radiantly, Hurry to love the bridegroom with greatest desire!
V.
Wie soll ich dich empfangen
Und wie begegn’ ich dir?
O aller Welt Verlangen, O meiner Seelen Zier!
O Jesu, Jesu, setze Mir selbst die Fackel bei, Damit, was dich ergötze, Mir kund und wissend sei!
Paul Gerhardt: “Wie soll ich dich empfangen,” verse 1
VI.
Und sie gebar ihren ersten Sohn und wickelte ihn in Windeln und legte ihn in eine Krippen, denn sie hatten sonst keinen Raum in der Herberge.
Luke 2:7
VII.
Er ist auf Erden kommen arm, Wer will die Liebe recht erhöhn, Die unser Heiland vor uns hegt?
Daß er unser sich erbarm, Ja, wer vermag es einzusehen, Wie ihn der Menschen Leid bewegt?
Und in dem Himmel mache reich, Des Höchsten Sohn kömmt in die Welt, Weil ihm ihr Heil so wohl gefällt, Und seinen lieben Engeln gleich. So will er selbst als Mensch geboren werden. Kyrieleis!
Luther: “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ,” verse 6
VIII.
Großer Herr, o starker König, Liebster Heiland, o wie wenig Achtest du der Erden Pracht!
Der die ganze Welt erhält, Ihre Pracht und Zier erschaffen, Muß in harten Krippen schlafen.
IX.
Ach mein herzliebes Jesulein, Mach dir ein rein sanft Bettelein, Zu ruhn in meines Herzens Schrein, Daß ich nimmer vergesse dein!
Luther: “Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her,” verse 13
V.
How shall I receive you, And how encounter you?
O desire of the whole world, O adornment of my soul!
O Jesus, Jesus, place
The torch near me yourself, So that what gives you pleasure Be known and familiar to me!
VI.
And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the inn.
VII.
Poor he came to Earth Who wants to elevate the love properly That our savior fosters for us?
That he have mercy on us
Yes, who can comprehend how humanity’s suffering moves him?
And make us rich in heaven
The son of the Highest comes to the world
Because it pleases him to save it, And equals to his beloved angels. And so he wants to be born human himself. Kyrie eleison!
VIII.
Great Lord, O strong king, Dearest savior, oh, how little
Do you cherish Earth’s wealth!
He who sustains the entire world, Who created its splendor and beauty, Must sleep in a hard manger.
IX.
Ah, baby Jesus, dearest to my heart
Make yourself a clean, soft bed
To rest enshrined in my heart
Lest I ever forget you!
Und es waren Hirten in derselben Gegend, BWV 248 II
Translation by Albrecht Gaub
X. Sinfonia
XI.
Und es waren Hirten in derselben Gegend auf dem Felde bei den Hürden, die hüteten des Nachts ihre Herde. Und siehe, des Herren Engel trat zu ihnen, und die Klarheit des Herren leuchtet um sie, und sie furchten sich sehr.
Luke 2:8–9
XII.
Brich an, o schönes Morgenlicht, Und laß den Himmel tagen!
Du Hirtenvolk, erschrecke nicht, Weil dir die Engel sagen, Daß dieses schwache Knäbelein Soll unser Trost und Freude sein, Dazu den Satan zwingen Und letztlich Friede bringen!
Johann Rist: “Ermuntre dich, mein schwacher Geist,” verse 9
XIII.
Und der Engel sprach zu ihnen: Fürchtet euch nicht, siehe, ich verkündige euch große Freude, die allem Volke widerfahren wird. Denn euch ist heute der Heiland geboren, welcher ist Christus, der Herr, in der Stadt David.
Luke 2: 10–11
XIV. Was Gott dem Abraham verheißen, Das läßt er nun dem Hirtenchor Erfüllt erweisen.
Ein Hirt hat alles das zuvor Von Gott erfahren müssen. Und nun muß auch ein Hirt die Tat, Was er damals versprochen hat, Zuerst erfüllet wissen.
X. Sinfonia
XI.
Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
XII.
Break forth, o lovely light of morning, And let the sky dawn! You shepherd-folk, do not be afraid Because the angels tell you That this weak little boy Shall be our comfort and joy, Compelling Satan as well And bringing peace at last!
XIII.
But the angel said to them:
“Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah (Christ), the Lord.”
XIV.
What God promised to Abraham, He now proves to the group of shepherds As fulfilled.
A shepherd had to learn All this from God before. And now a shepherd also will know What God promised back then As fulfilled before everyone else.
XV.
Frohe Hirten, eilt, ach eilet, Eh ihr euch zu lang verweilet, Eilt, das holde Kind zu sehn!
Geht, die Freude heißt zu schön, Sucht die Anmut zu gewinnen, Geht und labet Herz und Sinnen!
XVI.
Und das habt zum Zeichen: Ihr werdet finden das Kind in Windeln gewickelt und in einer Krippe liegen.
Luke 2:12
XVII.
Schaut hin, dort liegt im finstern Stall, Des Herrschaft gehet überall!
Da Speise vormals sucht ein Rind, Da ruhet itzt der Jungfrau’n Kind.
XV.
Merry shepherds, hurry, ah hurry, Before you delay too long, Hurry to see the lovely child! Go, this joy is so exquisite, Seek to win this loveliness, Go and delight your heart and senses!
XVI.
And this will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.
XVII.
Look there, there in a dark stable, Lies he who rules everything!
Where once an ox searched for food, Now the child of the virgin rests.
Paul Gerhardt: “Schaut, schaut, was ist für Wunder dar,” verse 8
XVIII.
So geht denn hin, ihr Hirten, geht, Daß ihr das Wunder seht:
Und findet ihr des Höchsten Sohn
Un einer harten Krippe liegen, So singet ihm bei seiner Wiegen Aus einem süßen Ton
Und mit gesamtem Chor
Dies Lied zur Ruhe vor!
XIX.
Schlafe, mein Liebster, genieße der Ruh, Wach nach diesem vor aller Gedeihen!
Labe die Brust, Empfinde die Lust, Wo wir unser Herz erfreuen!
XX.
Und alsobald war da bei dem Engel die Menge der himmlischen Heerscharen, die lobten Gott und sprachen:
Luke 2:13
XXI.
Ehre sei Gott in der Höhe und Friede auf Erden und den Menschen ein Wohlgefallen.
Luke 2:14
XVIII.
Then go there, you shepherds, go,
So that you see the miracle:
And when you find the son of the Highest Lying in a hard manger, Then sing to him by his cradle
In a sweet tone
And with full chorus
This lullaby!
XIX.
Sleep, my beloved, enjoy your rest, Awaken afterwards so that all may thrive!
Let your heart delight, Feel the pleasure
That rejoices our hearts!
XX.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
XXI.
“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace, goodwill to people!”
XXII.
So recht, ihr Engel, jauchzt und singet, Daß es uns heut so schön gelinget! Auf denn! Wir stimmen mit euch ein, Uns kann es so wie euch erfreun.
XXIII.
Wir singen dir in deinem Heer Aus aller Kraft Lob, Preis und Ehr, Daß du, o lang gewünschter Gast, Dich nunmehr eingestellet hastt.
Paul Gerhardt: “Wir singen dir, Emmanuel,” verse 2
XXII.
That’s right, you angels, rejoice and sing, That it works out so splendidly for us today! On then! We sing along with you; It can make us as merry as it makes you.
XXIII.
We sing to you in your host With all our force praise, glory and honor, Since you, o long-awaited guest, Have arrived now.
Herrscher des Himmels, erhöre das Lallen, BWV 248 III
Translation by Albrecht Gaub
XXIV.
Herrscher des Himmels, erhöre das Lallen, Laß dir die matten Gesänge gefallen, Wenn dich dein Zion mit Psalmen erhöht! Höre der Herzen frohlockendes Preisen, Wenn wir dir itzo die Ehrfurcht erweisen, Weil unsre Wohlfahrt befestiget steht!
XXV.
Und da die Engel von ihnen gen Himmel fuhren, sprachen die Hirten untereinander:
XXVI.
Lasset uns nun gehen gen Bethlehem und die Geschichte sehen, die da geschehen ist, die uns der Herr kundgetan hat.
Luke 2:15
XXVII.
Er hat sein Volk getröst’, Er hat sein Israel erlöst, Die Hülf aus Zion hergesendet Und unser Leid geendet. Seht, Hirten, dies hat er getan; Geht, dieses trefft ihr an!
XXIV.
Ruler of heaven, hear our babble, Endure our dull songs, When your Zion exalts you with psalms! Hear the rejoicing praise of our hearts, As we now show our reverence for you, Since our welfare has been confirmed!
XXV.
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another,
XXVI.
“Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.”
XXVII.
He has comforted his people, He has redeemed his Israel, Has sent help from Zion And ended our suffering. Look, shepherds, this is what he has done; Go, this is what you will find!
XXVIII.
Dies hat er alles uns getan, Sein groß Lieb zu zeigen an; Des freu sich alle Christenheit Und dank ihm des in Ewigkeit. Kyrieleis!
Martin Luther: “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ,” verse 7
XXIX.
Herr, dein Mittleid, dein Erbarmen Tröstet uns und macht uns frei.
Deine holde Gunst und Liebe, Deine wundersamen Triebe Machen deine Vatertreu Wieder neu.
XXX.
Und sie kamen eilend und funden beide, Mariam und Joseph, dazu das Kind in der Krippe liegen. Da sie es aber gesehen hatten, breiteten sie das Wort aus, welches zu ihnen von diesem Kind gesaget war. Und alle, für die es kam, wunderten sich der Rede, die ihnen dir Hirten gesaget hatten. Maria aber behielt alle diese Worte und bewegte sie in ihrem Herzen.
Luke 2:16-19
XXXI.
Schließe, mein Herze, dies selige Wunder Fest in deinem Glauben ein!
Lasse dies Wunder, die göttlichen Werke, Immer zur Stärke
Deines schwachen Glaubens sein!
XXXII.
Ja, ja, mein Herz soll es bewahren, Was es an dieser holden Zeit
Zu seiner Seligkeit
Für sicheren Beweis erfahren.
XXVIII.
All this he has done for us, To show his great love; For this all Christians may rejoice And thank him for this in eternity. Kyrie eleison!
XXIX.
Lord, your compassion, your mercy Comforts us and makes us free. Your gracious favor and love, Your miraculous doings Make your fatherly devotion New again.
XXX.
So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them, and Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.
XXXI.
Lock, my heart, this blessed miracle Firmly in your faith!
Let this miracle, the divine works, Always serve to strengthen Your weak faith!
XXXII.
Yes, yes, my heart shall keep Whatever it, in this wonderful time, For its blessedness, Learned as certain evidence.
XXXIII.
Ich will dich mit Fleiß bewahren,
Ich will dir
Leben hier,
Dir will ich abfahren,
Mit dir will ich endlich schweben
Voller Freud
Ohne Zeit
Dort im andern Leben.
Paul Gerhardt: “Fröhlich soll mein Herze springen,” verse 15
XXXIV.
Und die Hirten kehrten wieder um, preiseten und lobten Gott um alles, das sie gesehen und gehöret hatten, wie denn zu ihnen gesaget war.
Luke 2:20
XXXV.
Sei froh dieweil,
Das euer Heil
Ist hie ein Gott und auch ein Mensch geboren, Der, welcher ist
Der Herr und Christ
In Davids Stadt, von vielen auserkoren.
Christoph Runge: “Laßt Furcht und Pein,” verse 4
XXIV. Chorus
XXXIII.
I want to keep you with diligence, For you, I want To live here, For you, I want to depart.
With you I will soar at last Full of joy,
Timelessly
There in the other life.
XXXIV.
The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told them.
XXXV.
Meanwhile, be joyful, For your salvation Is born here a God and also a human being, He, who is The Lord and Christ In David’s city, chosen out of many.
XXIV. Chorus
Unlike Bach, who was employed by houses of worship to produce sacred music for use in their liturgical affairs, Poulenc didn’t necessarily have any intentions of becoming a “serious” composer. Until the mid-1930s, his oeuvre consisted largely of instrumental music, favoring the piano and a variety of chamber ensembles, distinguishing himself as a modern, dynamic, and explicitly Parisian composer. More than anything, he was known as an artist with an unusually strong penchant for melody.
In 1936, Poulenc’s close friend and fellow composer Pierre-Octave Ferraud was suddenly killed in a car accident. Not yet 40 years old, the young Francis was so shaken by the blunt cruelty of fate that he sought pilgrimage to Rocamadour, a medieval Catholic commune in the southwest of
France. It was there, gazing upon the visage of the Black Madonna, that he experienced a religious homecoming which would mark the most significant turning point in his career:
A few days earlier I’d just heard of the tragic death of my colleague ... As I meditated on the fragility of our human frame, I was drawn once more to the life of the spirit. Rocamadour had the effect of restoring me to the faith of my childhood. This sanctuary, undoubtedly the oldest in France ... had everything to captivate me ... The same evening of this visit to Rocamadour, I began my Litanies à la Vierge noire for female voices and organ. In that work I tried to get across the atmosphere of “peasant devotion” that had struck me so forcibly in that lofty chapel.
He began composing spiritual music with a great fervor. He composed his Mass in G shortly after his journey to Rocamadour, followed by the Quatre motets pour un temps de penitence, the Quatre motets pour le temps de Noël, the Quatre petites prières de saint François d’Assise, a setting of the Salve Regina, and Dialogues des Carmélites, an opera chronicling the last days of the Martyrs of Compiègne. Premiered just two years before his death in 1963, his setting of the Gloria offers a vivid portrait of a man who was characterized as ever playful, but always faithful — the words are taken directly from the Catholic Mass Ordinary, but the music itself alternates between weighty solemnity and vibrant, seductive, and life-affirming panoplies of sound.
Staging of Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites (1958)
Gloria, FP 177
I.
Gloria in excelsis Deo Et in terra pax hominibus bonæ voluntatis.
II. Laudamus te, Benedicimus te, Adoramus te, Glorificamus te.
Gratias agimus tibi Propter magnam gloriam tuam.
III.
Domine Deus, Rex cælestis, Deus Pater omnipotens.
IV.
Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe.
I.
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.
II.
We praise you, we bless you, we adore you, we glorify you.
We give you thanks for your great glory.
III.
Lord God, heavenly King, O God, almighty Father.
IV.
Lord, the only begotten Son, Jesus Christ.
V.
Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris, Rex Celestis
Deus Qui tollis peccata mundi, Miserere nobis; suscipe deprecationem nostram.
VI.
Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.
Quoniam tu solus Sanctus, Tu solus Dominus, Tu solus Altissimus.
Jesu Christe, Cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris. Amen.
V.
Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, King in Heaven
You who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us; receive our prayers.
VI.
You who sit at the right hand of the Father, have mercy on us.
For you alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord, you alone are the most high.
Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father. Amen.
IV: Mythology and the Birth of the Tone Poem
As the Romantic sentiment blossomed across Europe, composers sought not only to reimagine the formal structures they had inherited, but to conceive of entirely new ones. Chopin penned his four ballades for the piano, Grieg and Mendelssohn composed dozens of Lyric Pieces and Songs Without Words, and Franz Liszt is credited with having invented the tone poem.
Liszt wrote and worked in a time when the viability of the symphonic form was coming into question — his generation having inherited the works of Haydn, Beethoven, and Mozart, there was a real sense that the genre’s possibilities had been effectively exhausted with Beethoven’s Ninth. Debate concerning the direction new music was to take raged across the continent, with conservatives like Brahms and Clara Schumann upholding the highly formalized, tonal, conservative aesthetics of their Classical models, and “revolutionaries” like Liszt, Wagner, and Berlioz pushing against the bounds of harmony and structure. It was in this hotbed of creativity that the first symphonic poem — or tone poem — emerged. Wagner, writing to Marie Wittgenstein in 1857, seemed to suggest that the genre’s appearance in the musical landscape was a natural consequence of music’s intrinsic ability to convey meaning beyond the parameters of language: Music is surely the medium most suited to communicating perceptions for which speech is inadequate, and one could even identify the innermost nature of all perception as music. Thus if, when Liszt played his works for me, I received impressions only transmissible through music, then that was as it should be; it would have seemed foolish, if not impossible, to speak aloud of that which had become music precisely because it could not be expressed in any other way.1
Thus the tone poem took root in the musical imagination of Europe, and by the time Ottorino Respighi and Richard Strauss (May 9-10, 2025) grew into their own artistic maturity, they had become the foremost masters of orchestral color and musical gesture of their generation. Respighi, who had studied with RimskyKorsakov during his Russian sojourn, frequently looked to antiquity as a source of inspiration, and his Pini di Roma (“Pines of Rome”) marked the beginning of his international acclaim. The Italian master of programmatic music even went so far as to offer his own descriptions for each movement in the score:
The Pine Trees of the Villa Borghese — Children are at play in the pine groves of Villa Borghese; they dance round in circles, they play at soldiers, marching and fighting, they are wrought up by their own cries like swallows at evening, they come and go in swarms. Suddenly the scene changes.
1 Thomas S. Grey, “Wagner’s Open Letter to Marie Wittgenstein on Liszt’s Symphonic Poems,” The Wagner Journal, 5, no. 1 (2011): 71.
Pablo Salinas: The Roman Festivals of the Colosseum (c. 1900)
Pine Trees Near a Catacomb — We see the shades of the pine trees fringing the entrance to a catacomb. From the depth rises the sound of mournful psalm-singing, floating through the air like a solemn hymn, gradually and mysteriously dispersing.
The Pine Trees of the Janiculum — A quiver runs through the air: the pine trees of the Janiculum stand distinctly outlined in the clear light of a full moon. A nightingale is singing.
The Pine Trees of the Appian Way — Misty dawn on the Appian Way; solitary pine trees guard the magic landscape; indistinctly, the ceaseless rhythm of unending footsteps. The poet has a fantastic vision of bygone glories. Trumpets sound and, in the brilliance of the newly risen sun, a consular army bursts forth toward the Sacred Way, mounting in triumph to the Capitol.
Strauss, likewise, turned to medieval and Renaissance Europe and its literature as the basis for many of his symphonic poems, including Don Juan and Don Quixote, but it is Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche (“Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks”) that’s best remembered for its musical caricatures. Till Eulenspiegel, whose surname translates to “owl mirror,” was regarded as something of a folk hero — a clownish character whose very presence serves to subvert authority. The “Twenty and First Adventure” of Kenneth Mackenzie’s translation of the Eulenspiegel legend, The Marvelous Adventures and Rare Conceits of Master Tyll Owlglass (which “Telleth of what manner of thinking was Owlglass, and how he formed his life according unto principles of virtue and goodness”), offers up the following description:
Of our most noble and beloved Master Owlglass, have I now told ye not a few truthful and diverting histories and adventures; but, yet have I not said any word in respect of his ways of thinking, gathered by great experience out of many lands, in his continual travel to and fro, up and down in his country. Now he loved much to be always among friends and in company, and as long as he lived were there three things, which with great avoidance he did always run from and leave undone. The first thing was, that he never did ride a horse which was gray, but at all times a bay horse, for the gray horse did mind him of an ass, the which animal held he in great scorn. The second thing which he could not bear to be with him was the company of little children, for that wheresoever he found them, there was more care taken of them than of his own noble person. The third thing was, that he would never lie in an inn where that he found an old mild host; for a host that was old and mild held Owlglass in but little esteem, and was thereto also for the most part nought but a fool. Every morn when that he rose up from his bed, he blessed himself against healthy victual, great happiness, and strong drink, in which three blessings none can deny that he was a wise man. And when it fortuned that he passed by an apothecary’s house, did he bless himself against healthy victual, for it mote truly be a healthy place whence victual might issue; yet it was a sign of sickness before. Good fortune was it when a stone fell from the house top and struck him not down; for then might he of a truth cry, with great praise: “If that I had myself been standing on that place, so would it have fallen upon me and killed
Oskar Laske: Illustration for Till Eulenspiegel: The Folk Book Retold by Victor Fleischer (1920)
me;” and such fortune would he most willingly not have. The strong drink against which he blessed himself was water, for it be so strong as soon to drive round great mill-wheels, and to the good fellow that drinketh thereof cometh death. It was also told of Owlglass that he wept always when that he did go down a hill, and he laughed when he climbed one. For truly wist he, in the descending, that soon would he come again unto a mountain, while in climbing knew he that soon would he come again to the top, whence to pass down into the valley. In fine weather, or at a time when summer began, then did he also weep with many tears, and when that winter approached, laughed he. And ye that read herein may, in your wisdom, answer the reason why he did this thing.2
Rather than fading from vogue in the 21st century, contemporary composers seem to have found even more freedom in the stand-alone, rhapsodic, single-movement idiom. Tania León’s Ácana is similarly inspired by nature, its title an homage to Pouteria multiflora, known in Spanish as the ácana. León turned to literature (specifically Cuban Poet Laureate Nicolás Guillén’s poem of the same name) in composing a tribute to a South American tree revered for its strength:
Allá dentro, en el monte, donde la luz acaba, allá en el monte adentro, ácana.
Ay, ácana con ácana, con ácana; ay, ácana con ácana. El horcón de mi casa.
Allá dentro, en el monte, ácana, bastón de mis caminos, allá en el monte adentro...
Ay, ácana con ácana con ácana; ay, ácana con ácana. Allá dentro, en el monte, donde la luz acaba, tabla de mi sarcófago, allá en el monte adentro... Ay, ácana con ácana, con ácana; ay, ácana con ácana... Con ácana.
Inside there, on the mountain, where the light ends, there in the mountains, acana.
Ay, acana with acana, with acana; ay, acana with acana. The pitchfork of my house. Inside there, on the mountain, acana, staff of my ways, there in the mountains… Ay, acana with acana with acana; ay, acana with acana. Inside there, on the mountain, where the light ends, table of my sarcophagus, there in the mountains… Ay, acana with acana, with acana; ay, acana with acana… With acana.
2 Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie, “Telleth of What Manner of Thinking Was Owlglass, and How He Formed His Life According unto Principles of Virtue and Goodness,” The Marvellous Adventures and Rare Conceits of Master Tyll Owlglass. London: Trübner & Co., 1860. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/55035/55035-h/55035-h.htm.
Pouteria multiflora, also known as the ácana, as illustrated in a bulletin from the Museu Paraense Emílio Goeldi in 1902.
V: America’s Musical Voice
Written at the tender age of 21 while he was still a student at the Curtis Institute of Music, Samuel Barber’s Overture to The School for Scandal (April 26‑27, 2025) hints at the composer’s burgeoning musical voice while capturing the ethos of the flippant, bantering comedy of manners. The overture would help to establish his reputation, earning him his second Joseph H. Bearns Prize from Columbia University in 1933.
A school for Scandal! tell me, I beseech you, Needs there a school this modish art to teach you?
No need of lessons now, the knowing think; We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones—let them read the papers; Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit; Crave what you will—there’s quantum sufficit.
“Lord!” cries my Lady Wormwood (who loves tattle, And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle), Just risen at noon, all night at cards when threshing Strong tea and scandal—“Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp—how bold and free!
Last night Lord L. was caught with Lady D. For aching heads what charming sal volatile!
If Mrs. B. will still continue flirting, We hope she’ll draw, or we’ll undraw the curtain. Fine satire, poz—in public all abuse it, But, by ourselves, our praise we can’t refuse it.
Now, Lisp, read you—there, at that dash and star:”
“Yes, ma’am—A certain lord had best beware, Who lives not twenty miles from Grosvenor Square; For, should he Lady W. find willing, Wormwood is bitter”—“Oh! that’s me! the villain! Throw it behind the fire, and never more Let that vile paper come within my door.”
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart; To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart. Is our young bard so young, to think that he Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil’s sooner raised than laid. So strong, so swift, the monster there’s no gagging: Cut Scandal’s head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestow’d, Again our young Don Quixote takes the road; To show his gratitude he draws his pen,
Front cover of Harper’s Weekly featuring the interior of the new Wallack’s Theatre and its production of The School for Scandal (1882).
And seeks his hydra, Scandal, in his den. For your applause all perils he would through— He’ll fight—that’s write—a cavalliero true, Till every drop of blood—that’s ink—is spilt for you.
Prologue to The School for Scandal by David Garrick
Until the 20th century, America’s musical landscape was dominated by the late Romantics; Amy Beach, Louis Gottschalk, and Edward MacDowell typified the inclinations of the waning nineteenth century by composing countless miniatures and character pieces for the piano in addition to symphonic, concertante, and chamber music. As urbanization took hold in America and more diverse populations began integrating into city centers, new musical forms emerged: jazz, ragtime, and big band music proliferated in the dance halls, and composers like George Gershwin, Scott Joplin, and Duke Ellington increasingly blurred the boundaries between Western concert music and contemporary popular music. In a moment when nearly every dimension of both public and personal life was subject to sudden (and often dramatic) transformation, it’s little wonder that the composers of the rapidly modernizing turn of the century had already begun to romanticize a simpler, pastoral ideal of American living.
Charles Ives, one of America’s most idiosyncratic musical mavericks, largely worked outside of the classical music establishment and was essentially unbound by the aesthetic conservatism of his time. As with many of his works, his polystylistic Symphony No. 2 (February 21-22, 2025) recalled America’s musical past and drew heavily from American folk song, integrating tunes like “Camptown Races,” “America the Beautiful,” and the Gospel hymn “Bringing In The Sheaves.” Aaron Copland’s Lincoln Portrait similarly reworks material found in Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and various other writings, as well as folk tunes like “On Springfield Mountain,” to present a powerful case for the democratic spirit of the nation:
“Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history.”
That is what he said. That is what Abraham Lincoln said.
“Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history. We of this congress and this administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation. We, even we here, hold the power and bear the responsibility.”
[Annual Message to Congress, 1 December 1862]
He was born in Kentucky, raised in Indiana, and lived in Illinois. And this is what he said. This is what Abe Lincoln said.
“The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is
Lukas Foss, third Music Director of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra, and Aaron Copland in June 1983.
piled high with difficulty and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves and then we will save our country.”
[Annual Message to Congress, 1 December 1862]
When standing erect he was six feet four inches tall, and this is what he said.
He said: “It is the eternal struggle between two principles, right and wrong, throughout the world. It is the same spirit that says ‘you toil and work and earn bread, and I’ll eat it.’ No matter in what shape it comes, whether from the mouth of a king who seeks to bestride the people of his own nation, and live by the fruit of their labor, or from one race of men as an apology for enslaving another race, it is the same tyrannical principle.”
[Lincoln-Douglas debates, 15 October 1858]
Lincoln was a quiet man. Abe Lincoln was a quiet and a melancholy man. But when he spoke of democracy, this is what he said.
He said: “As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy. Whatever differs from this, to the extent of the difference, is no democracy.”
Abraham Lincoln, sixteenth president of these United States, is everlasting in the memory of his countrymen. For on the battleground at Gettysburg, this is what he said:
He said: “That from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. That this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth.”
[Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863]
Copland’s ballet Appalachian Spring (April 4-5, 2025), written during the years of the second World War, grew out of a collaboration with famed dancer Martha Graham; archetypes from American history and Greek mythology emerged as they exchanged scripts and notes from East to West coast. Set during the American Civil War, the work is heavily influenced by the Shaker ideals of pacifism and egalitarianism, as evidenced by Copland’s use of the tune “Simple Gifts” as the basis of melodic variation throughout the ballet:
‘Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free ‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, ‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight. When true simplicity is gained, To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed,
Martha Graham and ensemble rehearsing Appalachian Spring circa 1944.
Walter Cronkite appeared with the MSO as the narrator for Lincoln Portrait in January 1977.
To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come ‘round right.
Lyrics by Joseph Brackett
By the middle of the century, Leonard Bernstein had established himself as a leading figure of serious American music. Two of his works featured in our performances May 30-31, 2025 reveal a composer completely adept in two diametrically opposed musical worlds — his Serenade after Plato’s Symposium draws from the philosophical treatise of the same name, painting musical portraits of various historical figures and what they’re purported to have said about love:
I. Phaedrus: Pausanias
Phaedrus: Love will make men dare to die for their beloved — love alone; and women as well as men. Of this, Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, is a monument to all Hellas; for she was willing to lay down her life on behalf of her husband, when no one else would, although he had a father and mother; but the tenderness of her love so far exceeded theirs, that she made them seem to be strangers in blood to their own son, and in name only related to him; and so noble did this action of hers appear to the gods, as well as to men, that among the many who have done virtuously she is one of the very few to whom, in admiration of her noble action, they have granted the privilege of returning alive to earth; such exceeding honour is paid by the gods to the devotion and virtue of love. But Orpheus, the son of Oeagrus, the harper, they sent empty away, and presented to him an apparition only of her whom he sought, but herself they would not give up, because he showed no spirit; he was only a harp-player, and did not dare like Alcestis to die for love, but was contriving how he might enter Hades alive; moreover, they afterwards caused him to suffer death at the hands of women, as the punishment of his cowardliness.
Anselm Feuerbach: Plato’s Symposium (1869)
MSO Chorus founder Margaret Hawkins celebrating with Leonard Bernstein in October 1986.
Pausanias: Now actions vary according to the manner of their performance. Take, for example, that which we are now doing, drinking, singing and talking — these actions are not in themselves either good or evil, but they turn out in this or that way according to the mode of performing them; and when well done they are good, and when wrongly done they are evil; and in like manner not every love, but only that which has a noble purpose, is noble and worthy of praise. The Love who is the offspring of the common Aphrodite is essentially common, and has no discrimination, being such as the meaner sort of men feel, and is apt to be of women as well as of youths, and is of the body rather than of the soul — the most foolish beings are the objects of this love which desires only to gain an end, but never thinks of accomplishing the end nobly, and therefore does good and evil quite indiscriminately.
II. Aristophanes
Aristophanes: The sexes were not two as they are now, but originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the two, having a name corresponding to this double nature, which had once a real existence, but is now lost, and the word ‘Androgynous’ is only preserved as a term of reproach. In the second place, the primeval man was round, his back and sides forming a circle; and he had four hands and four feet, one head with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members, and the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast. … Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: ‘Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.’ He spoke and cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, or as you might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them one after another, he bade Apollo give the face and the half of the neck a turn in order that the man might contemplate the section of himself: he would thus learn a lesson of humility. … After the division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman as we call them, — being the sections of entire men or women, — and clung to that.
III. Eryximachus
Eryximachus: Any one who pays the least attention to the subject will also perceive that in music there is the same reconciliation of opposites; and I suppose that this must have been the meaning of Heracleitus, although his words are not accurate; for he says that The One
is united by disunion, like the harmony of the bow and the lyre. Now there is an absurdity saying that harmony is discord or is composed of elements which are still in a state of discord. But what he probably meant was, that harmony is composed of differing notes of higher or lower pitch which disagreed once, but are now reconciled by the art of music; for if the higher and lower notes still disagreed, there could be no harmony, — clearly not. For harmony is a symphony, and symphony is an agreement; but an agreement of disagreements while they disagree there cannot be; you cannot harmonize that which disagrees. In like manner rhythm is compounded of elements short and long, once differing and now in accord; which accordance, as in the former instance, medicine, so in all these other cases, music implants, making love and unison to grow up among them; and thus music, too, is concerned with the principles of love in their application to harmony and rhythm. Again, in the essential nature of harmony and rhythm there is no difficulty in discerning love which has not yet become double. But when you want to use them in actual life, either in the composition of songs or in the correct performance of airs or metres composed already, which latter is called education, then the difficulty begins, and the good artist is needed. … Whence I infer that in music, in medicine, in all other things human as well as divine, both loves ought to be noted as far as may be, for they are both present.
IV. Agathon
Agathon: Let us adduce a similar proof of the tenderness of Love; for he walks not upon the earth, nor yet upon the skulls of men, which are not so very soft, but in the hearts and souls of both gods and men, which are of all things the softest: in them he walks and dwells and makes his home. Not in every soul without exception, for where there is hardness he departs, where there is softness there he dwells; and nestling always with his feet and in all manner of ways in the softest of soft places, how can he be other than the softest of all things? Of a truth he is the tenderest as well as the youngest, and also he is of flexile form; for if he were hard and without flexure he could not enfold all things, or wind his way into and out of every soul of man undiscovered. And a proof of his flexibility and symmetry of form is his grace, which is universally admitted to be in an especial manner the attribute of Love; ungrace and love are always at war with one another. The fairness of his complexion is revealed by his habitation among the flowers; for he dwells not amid bloomless or fading beauties, whether of body or soul or aught else, but in the place of flowers and scents, there he sits and abides.
V. Socrates: Alcibiades
Socrates: He who has been instructed thus far in the things of love, and who has learned to see the beautiful in due order and succession, when he comes toward the end will suddenly perceive a nature of wondrous beauty … a nature which in the first place is everlasting, not growing and decaying, or waxing and waning; secondly, not fair in one point of view and foul in another, or at one time or in one relation or at one place fair, at another time or in another relation or at another place foul, as if fair to some and foul to others, or in the likeness of a face or hands or any other part of the bodily frame, or in any form of speech or knowledge, or existing in any other being, as for example, in an animal, or in heaven, or in earth, or in any other place; but beauty absolute, separate, simple, and everlasting, which without diminution and without increase, or any change, is imparted to the ever-growing and perishing beauties of all other things. He who from these ascending under the influence of true love begins to perceive that beauty is not far from the end. And the true order of going, or being led by another, to the things of love, is to begin from the beauties of earth
and mount upwards for the sake of that other beauty, using these as steps only, and from one going on to two, and from two to all fair forms, and from fair forms to fair practices, and from fair practices to fair notions, until from fair notions he arrives at the notion of absolute beauty, and at last knows what the essence of beauty is. This … is that life above all others which man should live, in the contemplation of beauty absolute; a beauty which if you once beheld, you would see not to be after the measure of gold, and garments, and fair boys and youths, whose presence now entrances you; and you and many a one would be content to live seeing them only and conversing with them without meat or drink, if that were possible — you only want to look at them and to be with them. But what if man had eyes to see the true beauty — the divine beauty, I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged with the pollutions of mortality and all the colours and vanities of human life — thither looking, and holding converse with the true beauty simple and divine? Remember how in that communion only, beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be enabled to bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities (for he has hold not of an image but of a reality), and bringing forth and nourishing true virtue to become the friend of God and be immortal, if mortal man may. Would that be an ignoble life?
Agathon arose in order that he might take his place on the couch by Socrates, when suddenly a band of revelers entered and spoiled the order of the banquet. Some one who was going out having left the door open, they had found their way in, and made themselves at home; great confusion ensued, and every one was compelled to drink large quantities of wine. Aristodemus said that Eryximachus, Phaedrus, and others went away — he himself fell asleep, and as the nights were long took a good rest: he was awakened towards daybreak by a crowing of cocks, and when he awoke, the others were either asleep, or had gone away; there remained only Socrates, Aristophanes, and Agathon, who were drinking out of a large goblet which they passed round, and Socrates was discoursing to them. Aristodemus was only half awake, and he did not hear the beginning of the discourse; the chief thing which he remembered was Socrates compelling the other two to acknowledge that the genius of comedy was the same with that of tragedy, and that the true artist in tragedy was an artist in comedy also. To this they were constrained to assent, being drowsy, and not quite following the argument. And first of all Aristophanes dropped off, then, when the day was already dawning, Agathon. Socrates, having laid them to sleep, rose to depart; Aristodemus, as his manner was, following him. At the Lyceum he took a bath, and passed the day as usual. In the evening he retired to rest at his own home.
The Symphonic Dances from West Side Story, by contrast, are a virtuoso distillation of a work that redefined American musical theater; one that embodied the driving rhythms, brassy dissonances, and vibrant multiculturalism of 1950s New York. Conceived as an “out and out plea for racial tolerance,” the show drew upon the Romeo and Juliet plot to recast the story against the backdrop of ethnic strife and gang violence plaguing the city streets. In one of the most dazzling displays of orchestral color and rhythmic vitality in the whole show, “America” stands out as an optimistic — though brazenly tongue-in-cheek — assessment of immigrant life in America:
Photo of the balcony scene from West Side Story. Pictured are Larry Kert as Tony and Carol Lawrence as Maria.
Anita: Puerto Rico, My heart’s devotion — Let it sink back in the ocean. Always the hurricanes blowing, Always the population growing, And the money owing, And the sunlight streaming, And the natives steaming.
I like the island Manhattan — Smoke on your pipe and put that in!
Girls: I like to be in America, O.K. by me in America, Everything free in America — Bernardo: For a small fee in America.
Anita: Buying on credit is so nice.
Bernardo: One look at us and they charge twice.
Rosalia: I’ll have my own washing machine.
Juano: What will you have, though, to keep clean?
Anita: Skyscrapers bloom in America.
Another Girl: Cadillacs zoom in America.
Another Girl: Industry boom in America. Boys: Twelve in a room in America.
Anita: Lots of new housing with more space.
Bernardo: Lots of doors slamming in our face.
Anita: I’ll get a terrace apartment.
Bernardo: Better get rid of your accent.
Girls: Life can be bright in America. Boys: If you can fight in America. Girls: Life is all right in America.
Boys: If you’re all-white in America.
Bernardo: I think I go back to San Juan.
Anita: I know a boat you can get on.
Bernardo: Everyone there will give big cheer!
Anita: Everyone there will have moved here.
Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim from the 1961 film adaptation directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins
Anita and Consuelo: Here you are free and you have pride.
Bernardo: Long as you stay on your own side.
Anita: Free to be anything you choose.
Boys: Free to wait tables and shine shoes.
Bernardo: Everywhere grime in America, Organized crime in America, Terrible time in America.
Anita: You forget I’m in America.
Photo of the rumble segment from West Side Story where Tony stabs Bernardo after he stabs Riff.
1958 poster for West Side Story.
Epilogue: The Voice as the Human Instrument
As our season of storytelling draws to a close, we thank you again for joining our audience with a sense of curiosity and wonder as we plumbed the depths of the mythological, the legendary, and the profoundly human through music. With our final programs of the season, we underscore the precedence of the voice as the earliest human instrument. Long before bone flutes and simple rhythm instruments emerged some 40,000 years ago, the genetically modern human body became capable of song, indelibly connecting the body to music-making.
Kenneth Schermerhorn leading The Wisconsin Conservatory Symphony Chorus in a performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 at Chicago’s Orchestra Hall in June 1978.
By the time Brahms’s mother died in early 1865, the musical setting of the Requiem Mass was a tradition that had been established for centuries. One of his dearest friends and greatest artistic advocates, Robert Schumann, had died nine years earlier, an emotional blow which may have spurred Brahms toward writing his Requiem (April 11-13, 2025). Unlike the settings of Mozart, Berlioz, and Cherubini, which had been published and lauded decades before Brahms’s efforts, his Ein deutsches Requiem (“A German Requiem”) does not follow the codified progression of texts derived from the Latin Mass. Rather, he selected excerpts from the Luther Bible, resulting in a work that is deeply spiritual, but predominantly humanist.
I.
Selig sind, die da Leid tragen, denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Matthew 5:4
Die mit Tränen säen, werden mit Freuden ernten.
Sie gehen hin und weinen und tragen edlen Samen, und kommen mit Freuden und bringen ihre Garben.
Psalm 126:5–6
II.
Denn alles Fleisch ist wie Gras und alle Herrlichkeit des Menschen wie des Grases Blumen. Das Gras ist verdorret und die Blume abgefallen.
1 Peter 1:24
I.
Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.
They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.
II.
For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.
So seid nun geduldig, lieben Brüder, bis auf die Zukunft des Herrn. Siehe, ein Ackermann wartet auf die köstliche Frucht der Erde und is geduldig darüber, bis er empfahe den Morgenregen und Abendregen.
James 5:7
Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandmen waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.
Aber des Herrn Wort bleibet in Ewigkeit. But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.
1 Peter 1:25
Die Erlöseten des Herrn werden wieder kommen, und gen Zion kommen mit Jauchzen; ewige Freude wird über ihrem Haupte sein; Freude und Wonne werden sie ergreifen und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg müssen.
Isaiah 35:10
III.
Herr, lehre doch mich, daß ein Ende mit mir haben muß, und mein Leben ein Ziel hat, und ich davon muß. Siehe, meine Tage sind einer Hand breit vor dir, und mein Leben ist wie nichts vor dir. Ach, wie gar nichts sind alle Menschen, die doch so sicher leben. Sie gehen daher wie ein Schemen, und machen ihnen viel vergebliche Unruhe; sie sammeln und wissen nicht wer es kriegen vird. Nun Herr, wess soll ich mich trösten? Ich hoffe auf dich.
Psalm 39:4–7
Der Gerechten Seelen sind in Gottes Hand und keine Qual rühret sie an.
Wisdom of Solomon 3:1
And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
III.
Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is: that I may know how frail I am. Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee. Surely every man walketh in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them. And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.
But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them.
IV.
Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen, Herr Zebaoth! Meine seele verlanget und sehnet sich nach den Vorhöfen des Herrn; mein Leib und Seele freuen sich in dem lebendigen Gott. Wohl denen, die in deinem Hause wohnen, die loben dich immerdar.
Psalm 84:1–2, 4
V.
Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit; aber ich will euch wieder sehen und euer Herz soll sich freuen und eure Freude soll neimand von euch nehmen.
John 16:22
Sehet mich an: Ich habe eine kleine Zeit Mühe und Arbeit gehabt und habe großen Trost funden.
Ecclesiasticus 51:27
Ich will euch trösten, wie Einen seine Mutter tröstet.
Isaiah 66:13
VI.
Denn wir haben hie keine bleibende Statt, sondern die zukünftige suchen wir.
Hebrews 13:14
Siehe, ich sage euch ein Geheimnis: Wir werden nicht alle entschlafen, wir werden aber alle verwandelt werden; und dasselbige plötzlich, in einem Augenblick, zu der Zeit der letzten Posaune. Denn es wird die Posaune schallen, und die Toten wervandelt werden. Dann wird erfüllet werden das Wort, das geschrieben steht: Der Tod is verschlungen in den Sieg. Tod, wo ist dein Stachel? Hölle, wo ist dein Sieg?
1 Corinthians 15:51–52, 54–55
IV.
How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee.
V.
And ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.
Ye see how for a little while I labor and toil, yet have I found much rest.
As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.
VI.
For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.
Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. …then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?
Herr, du bist würdig zu nehmen Preis und Ehre und Kraft, denn du hast alle Dinge geschaffen, und durch deinen Willen haben, sie das Wesen und sind geschaffen.
Revelation 4:11
VII.
Selig sind die Toten, die in dem Herrn sterben, von nun an. Ja, der Geist spricht, daß sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit; denn ihre Werke folgen ihnen nach
Revelation 14:13
Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.
VII.
Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.
Our final program of the season (June 13‑15, 2025) pays tribute to the great masters of opera, one of the most elaborate and truly interdisciplinary art forms of the West. Wagner himself referred to the opera as the Gesamtkunstwerk, a work of art which seamlessly integrates multiple disciplines (theater, dance, music, and design) into a singular expression worth more than the sum of its parts. Envisioning an environment where his operas could be staged exclusively, Wagner spent years seeking the cultural and financial support necessary to make his dream a reality. In 1876, the inauguration of the Bayreuth Festival included a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth and Wagner’s own Das Rheingold, with Liszt, Bruckner, Tchaikovsky, Grieg, and even Friedrich Nietzsche in attendance.
The first operas were staged in the early 17th-century Italian courts, fusing the codified dance forms of the ballet de cour and popular mythological archetypes to produce highly stylized theatrical works reserved primarily for the nobility. Within a few decades, opera had become accessible to the public — with Venice quickly becoming established as a leading center of the industry — and by Mozart’s time, the genre had developed into two distinct styles: opera buffa, or the comedic, written in the vernacular, and opera seria, or the serious, structured after the theatrical conventions of the preceding century. Mozart, with his seemingly boundless gift for melody, form, and dramatic timing, systematized the structure and style of opera, and his work was profoundly influential on subsequent generations of composers. By the 19th century, as artists became increasingly autonomous in their work (their means of earning a living having been freed from the patronage of the courts and the wealthy as a result of the changing social structures on the continent), opera took on decidedly loftier and more sophisticated dimensions, with Rossini, Offenbach, Meyerbeer, Gluck, Bellini, Donizetti, and Verdi producing radically inventive (and distinctly unique) contributions to the tradition.
Bayreuth Festspielhaus (pre-1913)
With this celebration of the human voice, we’re already looking toward the coming 2025-26 season, when the Milwaukee Symphony Chorus will celebrate its 50th anniversary by exploring the choral masterworks that earned its acclaim as a masterful vocal ensemble. Founded in the early 1970s as a joint effort between the MSO’s second music director, Kenneth Schermerhorn, and local choral legend Margaret Hawkins, the chorus premiered in June 1976 with a performance of Berlioz’s La damnation de Faust Over 50 years, the chorus has performed in some of the nation’s most prestigious musical capitals, including New York’s Carnegie Hall, produced multiple recordings, and earned glowing reviews at Chicago’s Ravinia Festival and beyond.
As we reflect on a season of storytelling and myth-making, we thank you again for your dedicated support of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra and Chorus. As the page of the book cannot turn without its reader, the transformative musical moments we share are only made possible by an inspired audience. We cannot wait to share the next chapter in our story with you in the performances to come.
Ken-David Masur Polly and Bill Van Dyke Music Director Chair
Chorus founder Margaret Hawkins rehearsing the chorus at the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music in the mid-1970s.
Chorus founder Margaret Hawkins leading the orchestra and MSO Chorus in a performance of Mendelssohn’s Elijah at Uihlein Hall in March 1988.
Words About Music: Notes from the Composers’ Desks
Dobrinka
Tabakova: Orpheus’ Comet (September 27‑29, 2024)
Orpheus’ Comet was the first official piece written during my residency with the BBC Concert Orchestra. Commissioned by both the BBC and the European Broadcasting Union, it was written for the 50th anniversary of the regular Music Exchanges and the opening of Monteverdi’s opera L’Orfeo — the signature melody of Euroradio — was at the heart of the concept for the work. It is a regal, upbeat opening — exactly what you would wish from a fanfare — and in my reimagining, it becomes the culmination of this tribute to Euroradio.
In my research for Orpheus’ Comet, I came across one of the earliest mentions of the Orpheus legend, which is found in Book IV of Virgil’s Georgics. Essentially these are books about agriculture, but the fourth book begins with a detailed study on the life of bees. The final chapter then turns to the legend of Orpheus and tells of Aristaeus (a shepherd and bee-keeper) who chased Euridice, causing her to trip, be bitten by a serpent, and ultimately die. As the piece began to take shape, it was the buzzing bees that left a strong impression on me and transformed into musical material. At the very opening of the piece, the buzzing begins in the horns, gradually evolving into nebulous chord clusters and accent sparks that pass around the rest of the orchestra. This dialogue continues until a solemn chorale appears out of the busy texture. The chorale is taken up by the strings and grows to include the buzzing ideas, which are transformed to almost hypnotic rhythmic loops. A soaring melody in the flute and clarinet hovers above as momentum starts to build. Trombones underpin this build-up and prepare for the finale, and the arrival of Monteverdi’s theme, with a modern twist.
The work was first performed on November 27, 2017 at LSO St Luke’s, London by the BBC Concert Orchestra, conducted by Johannes Wildner.1
Nhanderú pronounced (/nyuh.dey.roo/) means “God” in Tupi-Guarani, which is a subfamily of the Tupian languages spoken by a group of indigenous peoples living in areas of the Amazon basin. Natives from Tupi-Guarani tribes, like many other societies, often practiced a ritual called rainmaking (or rain dance) which is intended to invoke rain through prayer. During the ceremony, they summoned spirits of the land as well as their ancestors to bring in the rain to ensure soil fertility and abundant harvest and to frighten away the spirits of the lost world. In most rituals, the “dancers” embody one or more spirits (a higher power) expressed through rhythmic gestures and movements. In addition to chanting, some instruments, such as rattles of various sizes and types, flutes, and drums, are used. Legends have it that the rain provoked by
1 https://www.hyperion-records.co.uk/dc.asp?dc=D_CDHLL7562
Clarice Assad: Nhanderú (October 4‑5, 2024)
the ritual holds the spirits of ancient chiefs. When the water droplets begin to fall, it sets off a great battle between our reality and the spiritual world.
The composition Nhanderú bases itself on the connection between the material and the unseen worlds, focusing on ritualistic practices through faith, prayer, and gratitude. As with any musical work, it can be interpreted in many different ways. However, my work tends to be quite visual, and I usually like to imagine vivid scenarios, which inspire me to create a stronger sense of timing. Programmatic in nature, the piece develops narratively and is a musical portrait of a rain dance ritual from beginning to end. It is divided into four main parts. The beginning (awakening), the development section (summoning/rainfall/gratitude), and the coda, which is a return to the beginning, in a cyclical form, which creates a parody between the water cycle and the cycle of life. To create a vivid listening experience, the score calls for vocalizing, finger-snapping, clapping, body tapping, and percussion instruments, which imitate sounds of nature.2
Jessie Montgomery: Coincident Dances (October 11‑12, 2024)
Coincident Dances is inspired by the sounds found in New York’s various cultures, capturing the frenetic energy and multicultural aural palette one hears even in a short walk through a New York City neighborhood. The work is a fusion of several different sound-worlds: English consort, samba, mbira dance music from Ghana, swing, and techno.
My reason for choosing these styles sometimes stemmed from an actual experience of accidentally hearing a pair simultaneously, which happens most days of the week walking down the streets of New York, or one time when I heard a parked car playing Latin jazz while I had rhythm and blues in my headphones. Some of the pairings are merely experiments. Working in this mode, the orchestra takes on the role of a DJ of a multicultural dance track.3
Camille Pépin: Aux confins de l’orage (October 25 26, 2024)
For my work Aux confins de l’orage I was inspired by three transitory light phenomena that precede a storm. They occur in the upper atmosphere and are invisible from the Earth (we can only observe flashes of lightning). To set to music my representation of them, I imagined orchestral colors specific to each one.
The Yellow-Orange Spheres are discs of light radiating in space in concentric circles. Arising from an electromagnetic impact in the ionosphere, they change color during their propagation, going from yellow to red-orange. I have represented this transformation by spherical chords traveling from one instrumental section to another. After the impact of the keyboards (harp, celesta, vibraphone), they are first played by the winds before extending to the front of the orchestra through the solo string quartet. Moving in the orchestra, they seem to hover above a celestial and motionless layer of
2 https://clariceassad.com/work/nhanderu/
3 https://www.jessiemontgomery.com/work/coincident-dances/
strings. Thus, this slow movement introduces seven spherical chords that mark out the notes of the seminal motif of the piece. In this layer of the atmosphere farthest from us, the light is shimmering but fragile. Unstable, it flickers and soon a rumbling density appears, introducing the second movement. From a thunderous aggregate are born the Red Sylphs, lower in the mesosphere. They are liquid and incandescent filaments flowing towards the Earth and resolving into intense red, luminous swirls. Played by the high-pitched woodwinds, these threads never vanish despite the explosions anticipating the storm (kettledrums, bass drum, low-pitched winds). Brass and strings alternatively present the chord-spheres. The elements come together as they ignite into a lyrical song based on the motif submerging the work. The flamboyant sky still glows a little before subsiding and returning to the slow and cold texture of the beginning of the work.
The last movement opens with a windy episode. Dark and mysterious with the orchestra’s lowpitched colors, it provides the transition to the stratosphere. It is in this layer of the atmosphere closest to us that the Blue Jets fly at a hallucinating speed. These real light strokes, both brief and fast, are played by the woodwinds tinged with the brilliance of the keyboards. In the middle of this very lively movement, a suspended and cosmic moment appears, a brief lull before the storm. The horn takes up the motif of the spherical chords whose resonance permeates the woodwinds and then the muted strings. The material swells, radiates and one last time, and introduces the notes of this motif in a shattered chorale taken on by the brass instruments. Then, with a certain urgency, the dazzling blue jets resume their frantic race. As they approach the Earth, the sound becomes increasingly abrupt and dry. Finally, a last tumultuous rumble, a final thunderclap: the storm breaks out.4
Anna Clyne: Within Her Arms (January 24‑25, 2025)
Within Her Arms is music for my mother, Colleen Clyne, with all my love.
Earth will keep you tight within her arms dear one—
So that tomorrow you will be transformed into flowers—
This flower smiling quietly in this morning field—
This morning you will weep no more dear one—
For we have gone through too deep a night.
This morning, yes, this morning, I kneel down on the green grass—
And I notice your presence.
Flowers, that speak to me in silence.
The message of love and understanding has indeed come.
—Thich Nhat Hanh
(From “Message” in Call Me By My True Names, 1999, with permission of Parallax Press)
—Anna Clyne5
4 https://www.ficksmusic.com/products/pepin-aux-confins-de-lorage-billaudot
5 https://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Anna-Clyne-Within-Her-Arms/53903
Kevin Puts: Marimba Concerto
(April 4‑5, 2025)
The Marimba Concerto (1997) emerged from my close collaboration with marimbist Makoto Nakura, for whom I also composed several solo and chamber works in the Nineties while still a graduate student at the Eastman School of Music. In recent years, rising star Ji Su Jung has championed the concerto and eagerly expressed an interest in recording it. Commissioned by Nakura and the Vermont Symphony Orchestra for a tour around the orchestra’s home state, the concerto’s opening melody was probably inspired by my hearing a pianist warming up on the stage of the Eastman Theater as I passed through it on the way to a class. The harmonic progression he played — a series of chords whose bass line descended by step while the upper notes outlined simple triads — struck me as poignant in its simplicity. I have always felt close to the key of E-flat, due to its rich qualities and probably also to the many works of Mozart written in this key, in particular two of his piano concertos that served, in many ways, as a model for this concerto. The first movement spins forth from this melody as the marimba embellishes it virtuosically. The second movement, cast in more elegiac hues than the first, employs only the string section of the orchestra, which introduces reflective four-voiced textures that are eventually taken up by the solo marimba. The third movement, an athletic moto perpetuo for the marimbist, gradually recalls the elements of the first movement’s melody, culminating in a reprise of this melody within the context of this final movement’s more dance-like nature.6
