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This program features Symphoria musicians in a wide variety of solo works, and concludes with Haydn’s groundbreaking Farewell Symphony. Enjoy solo performances by Ben Dettleback (trombone), John Friedrichs (clarinet), Xue Su (flute), and Gregory Wood (cello), plus the Symphoria Percussion Ensemble.

 


PROGRAM

MUZQUIZ: Auburn Runout
KARLIN: Percussion
SAINT-SAËNS: Tarentelle
BRUCH: Kol Nidre
GRØNDAHL: Concerto for Trombone (Finale: Maestoso – Rondo)
HAYDN: Symphony No. 45 in F-sharp minor, “Farewell”

 


Join us before the concert for a Symphoria Brunch at 317 @ Montgomery!

What: Symphoria Brunch at 317 @ Montgomery St. 
When: Sunday, April 30, 12-2:30 PM
Where: 317 @ Montgomery, 317 Montgomery St., Syracuse, NY 13202
An intimate dining experience in one of the most historic buildings in all of Syracuse conveniently located across the street from St. Paul’s Syracuse. 317 serves elevated dishes always freshly prepared, made from scratch and using the finest ingredients.
Symphoria Brunch Menu

Carving Station
Roast Beef
Buffet Items
French Toast
Scrambled Eggs
Bacon
Home fries
Seasonal Vegetables
Fresh Fruit
Bagels w/Cream Cheese & Lox
Assorted Pastries
Ticket does not include drinks – mimosas, mocktails, wine and beer available for separate purchase.
Ticketing is closed for this event.

PROGRAM NOTES

This afternoon’s concert wraps up the classical offerings of our tenth anniversary season with a wide-ranging farewell that celebrates players from all four sections of the orchestra.

To open, we have two short works performed by the percussionists, each piece featuring a different kind of instrument. Auburn Run-Out, written in 1978 for the Syracuse Symphony Percussion Ensemble by our own Ernest Muzquiz, highlights the drums. Influenced by the “fast and furious” solos of the jazz drummers Ernest admired (especially his childhood idol Gene Krupa), this was intended as a piece in which the group could “come out ...

This afternoon’s concert wraps up the classical offerings of our tenth anniversary season with a wide-ranging farewell that celebrates players from all four sections of the orchestra.

To open, we have two short works performed by the percussionists, each piece featuring a different kind of instrument. Auburn Run-Out, written in 1978 for the Syracuse Symphony Percussion Ensemble by our own Ernest Muzquiz, highlights the drums. Influenced by the “fast and furious” solos of the jazz drummers Ernest admired (especially his childhood idol Gene Krupa), this was intended as a piece in which the group could “come out with guns blazing.” The double pun of the title makes its spirit clear. A “run-out” is a quick out-of-town concert—but the word “run” also evokes the idea of speed. As for Auburn: for decades, that city has been a frequent run-out destination for Syracuse orchestras—but the word also evokes a fiery red that Ernest tried to reflect in the music. Written in mixed meters (no marching band music here), it’s a quick blast of rhythmic energy.

Since it’s scored almost exclusively for drums, Auburn Run-Out is non-melodic. Re:Percussion, composed in 1961 by Frederick James Karlin (1936–2004) is, in contrast, written for keyboard instruments (vibraphone, xylophone, marimba) and timpani, and relies heavily on melody and harmony. A prolific composer in a variety of styles, Karlin scored over 170 films and TV shows (starting with Up the Down Staircase); and Ernest is convinced that he’s the only Academy-Award-winning composer to have written a piece for percussion. He won his Oscar in 1971 for the song “For All We Know,” later made famous by The Carpenters—but despite its reliance on melody, Re:Percussion shows a different, less mellow, side of his art.

We jump back a century to the 1857 Tarantella by Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921). In fact, we may be jumping back further than that in spirit. Saint-Saëns was a great pianist as well as a composer—novelist Marcel Proust was especially taken with his “purity and transparency” when he played Mozart. And Principal Flutist Xue Su hears a lot of Mozart in this piece, too, especially in the way Saint-Saëns calls on the soloist to “switch octaves fast”—something far more difficult to do on a wind instrument than on, say, a violin. In temperament, she says, the Tarantella has a “teasing, cheeky” tone—and if the fast, high-flying music sounds airborne to you, then both soloists agree. For Xue, it’s much like the “Aviary” section in Saint-Saëns’ Carnival of the Animals; for Assistant First Chair Clarinetist John Friedrichs, it’s like “aerial acrobatics.” All in all, says John, like a lot of Saint-Saëns’s music, it combines lyricism and “scherzando effect”— and is “an absolute delight to the ear.” More often than not, the Tarantella is heard in a reduction for flute, clarinet, and piano. This afternoon, you get a rare chance to hear the original version, which shows the youthful composer in full command of orchestral sound.

As you listen to the Tarantella, you may feel that Saint-Saëns has captured the essence of his two solo instruments. As you listen to the 1880 Kol Nidrei, you might feel, similarly, that his contemporary Max Bruch (1838–1920) has managed to capture the essence of the cello. In most other respects, however, Bruch’s profound meditation has little in common with Saint-Saëns’s light-hearted romp. The opening section, in a mournful D minor, is based on the traditional Yom Kippur chant with, as Assistant Principal Cellist Greg Wood points out, the cello taking the role of the cantor. Then comes what Greg calls a “beautiful moment” where Bruch turns to D Major with a new theme—this taken from a collection of Hebrew Melodies published in the early 19th century by Isaac Nathan, a collection that originally set texts contributed by Lord Byron. Bruch’s shift to major has a lasting effect, and when the opening material returns, it does so in D major, leading to a “stunningly beautiful ending with a hopeful note.”

The percussion pieces, the Saint-Saëns, and the Bruch all focus on, even emphasize, the most familiar characteristics of their featured instruments. For Principal Trombone Ben Dettelback, the Trombone Concerto by Danish conductor and composer Launy Grøndahl (1886–1960) is attractive partly for the opposite reason—because it so steadily avoids listeners’ most common associations with the instrument. What comes to mind when you think of the trombone? John Williams and John Phillip Sousa? Or perhaps the voices of the adults in the Peanuts cartoons? As Ben points out, the trombone can certainly play loud, and it can certainly play glissandos (slides) as well as produce other strange sounds. But, “just because the trombone can doesn’t mean that it should,” and this Concerto emphasizes its lyrical side. Hearing it in ninth or tenth grade had a major impact on Ben, and it’s remained one of his favorite pieces. The last movement, which he is performing this afternoon, is a rondo with a jaunty, syncopated main theme (one that, coincidentally but appropriately, has a slight kinship to the main theme of Saint-Saëns’s Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso). It’s the kind of piece that gets “stuck in your head”—the kind of piece you walk out of the room humming to yourself. And this excerpt will surely leave you wanting to hear the rest of the concerto.

Our final work swerves in yet a different direction—or perhaps in several different directions. The Symphony No. 45 by Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) doesn’t feature any solo instruments—and then, yet again, it does, more so than anything else on the program. If you know the story behind the symphony’s origins already, you’ll understand that paradox. If not—well, I don’t believe in spoilers, so I won’t give the details, although I promise that things will be clear once the concert is over. All the historical background you need before hearing the Symphony is that it was written in 1772 as Haydn’s shrewd protest against the conditions imposed on the Esterhazy Orchestra, who had to abandon their families in order to take up summer residence at their patron’s country estate. (In essence, this was a months-long run-out.) Obviously, the situation that originally inspired Haydn no longer pertains. But as you’ll see, the work that grew out of it still provides an appropriate finale to the season’s classical programming.

The Symphony No. 45 is one of Haydn’s middle-period sturm und drang (storm and stress) symphonies, and it shares many qualities with its siblings. At the time, Haydn was generating new techniques for heightening the emotional effects of his music, and this work is one of his most experimental, starting from the fact that it’s probably the only 18th-century symphony written in the difficult key of F-sharp Minor, with a third movement in the even more treacherous F-sharp Major. How treacherous? Well, since horns in those days didn’t have valves, they were severely limited in what notes were available to them; as a result, Haydn apparently had to have special crooks (removable sections of the instrument’s tubing) manufactured for his horn players so that they would be able to navigate their parts. The work is formally inventive, too. But you don’t need perfect pitch or the ability to analyze the music’s formal layout to appreciate its power. No matter what your musical background, you’re apt to be gripped by the nearly manic desperation of the outer movements, or by the secretive, mournfulness of the second—or by the odd jolts that dot the third, which seems unable to come to a real conclusion.

Once we reach the end, you’ll know how Haydn expressed his protest and why this work is nicknamed the “Farewell” Symphony. But don’t worry: We’ll be back for our last Pops Concert, as well as for our summer performances. And, of course, for our eleventh season next year, starting on September 30.

Peter J. Rabinowitz
Have any comments or questions? Please write to me at prabinowitz@ExperienceSymphoria.org


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