Monday, February 15, 2010

The VSO is Stuck in Vermont

Seven Days video blogger Eva Sollberger waltzed her way into the Davis Center at UVM on February 6 to showcase the VSO for an installment of "Stuck in Vermont."

Keep reading!

Friday, January 22, 2010

Win 100 bottles of wine and a cooler!

The VSO is raffling off an instant wine cellar to support its activities around the state. Our volunteer leadership has been collecting bottles from local merchants, wineries, and private collectors for this exciting raffle. The prize also includes a storage cooler (total package value is $3500). Tickets are only $35 of 3 for $100. The drawing will be held on February 6. E-mail Mike@vso.org or call (800) VSO-9293 x 25 to purchase tickets. Keep reading for the official rules or go to our website.

VSO Instant Wine Cellar Raffle Official Rules

-- The winner will receive an “instant wine cellar” consisting of 100 bottles of wine and a wine storage cooler. The package has an estimated value of $3,500. There is no option to claim cash in lieu of the raffle prize.
-- No more than 350 raffle tickets at $35 will be sold. The chance of winning is dependant upon the number of tickets sold, and will be no less than 1 in 350. All net proceeds will support the Vermont Symphony Orchestra.
-- The drawing will be held at the 32nd Annual Waltz Night on Saturday, February 6, 2010 at the Dudley Davis Center at the University of Vermont in Burlington, Vermont. The winner need not be present to win.
-- The winner is responsible for taking possession of the prize at Waltz Night, or at the Vermont Symphony Orchestra office in Burlington, Vermont, within 90 days of the raffle drawing, at which time the winner shall be the legal owner of the prize.
-- Ticket purchasers must be at least 21 years of age. It is illegal for persons under the age of 21 to purchase or consume alcohol.
-- Full-time and part-time employees of the Vermont Symphony Orchestra, VSO musicians, and other contracted employees of the Vermont Symphony Orchestra and their families are not eligible to enter the raffle.
-- Pursuant to current tax law, raffle ticket purchases do not qualify as charitable contributions.
-- The Vermont Symphony Orchestra is not liable for any loss, injury, or other issues related to the prize, its warranty, or its quality.
-- Prize is transferable, but solely by the raffle winner, and the winner must notify the Vermont Symphony Orchestra if a transfer is to take place, and who the new claimant will be. The transferee must be at least 21 years of age.
-- The prize winner is responsible for payment of all associated taxes, including income taxes, with respect to the prize, and agrees to provide the Vermont Symphony Orchestra with any related documentation requested.
Keep reading!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Program Notes: January 29-31

The VSO takes it on the road this month with a stellar program featuring a World Premiere of David Ludwig's Symphony No. 1, "Book of Hours," a performance of Beethoven's Emperor Concerto played by world-renowned pianist André Watts, and Mendelssohn's Hebrides. Jaime Laredo leads the charge in Bellows Falls (1/29), Burlington (1/30), and Rutland (1/31). Read the program notes and watch a multimedia program note on David's piece after the jump.


The Hebrides (Fingal’s Cave), Op. 26
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)


By the time Mendelssohn was in his late teens, he had already achieved two compositional triumphs: his Overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream and his Octet for Strings. His talents and gifts extended beyond music as well: in 1826 he enrolled at the University of Berlin, studying a variety of subjects from geography to aesthetics. He was quite a sketcher of landscapes, and he loved to travel.

It was on one particular trip to Scotland that Mendelssohn received the inspiration for The Hebrides. Along with his friend Karl Klingemann, Mendelssohn stopped first in Edinburgh, and then continued west to the Inner Hebridean islands, sketching landscapes as he went. On a sea voyage to the island of Staffa, Mendelssohn had his first glimpse of the spectacular Fingal's Cave, named for a hero of Scotch and Irish legend. Visitors can be rowed directly into the cave, two hundred and twenty-seven feet long, richly decorated with seaweeds, lichens, and stalactites, where the constant murmuring of the waves has given it another Gallic name, “the cave of music.” The story goes that Mendelssohn, upon first seeing the grandeur of the cave with its organ-like pillars of red-brown basalt and hearing the musical sounds made by the rushing water, immediately began to draft the opening melodies of the overture right there in the boat. In actuality, Mendelssohn's correspondence suggests that the themes occurred to him on the mainland of the Inner Hebrides before embarking. (While on board, Klingemann's writings confirm, Mendelssohn was much too seasick to be inspired!) In his letters, the composer refers to the work both as “The Hebrides” and “The Solitary Isle.” The first published score was entitled “Fingal’s Cave,” but the orchestra parts said “The Hebrides.” It has become customary to use both of the last designations.

The beginning motive, which reappears throughout, suggests the sound of waves rolling in and out of the cavern. In his three revisions of the piece, Mendelssohn tinkered extensively with the development section, which he worried "tastes more of counterpoint than of whale oil and seagulls." An exciting coda brings to a close a work which Wagner asserted to be "one of the most beautiful pieces we possess."


Symphony No. 1, "Book of Hours"
David Ludwig (1972- )


I. Matins & Lauds: i thank You God for most this amazing* – E.E. Cummings (1894-1962)
i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

 *“i thank you God for most this amazing” from COMPLETE POEMS, by E.E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage, used with the permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation.  Copyright © 1950, 1978, 1991 by the Trustees for the E.E. Cummings Trust.  Copyright © 1979 by George James Firmage.

II. Prime: from The Book of Hours – Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)
Ich lebe mein leben im wachsenden Ringen,
die sich über die Dingen ziehen.
Ich werde den letzen vielleicht nicht vollbringen,
aber versuchen will ich ihn.

Ich kreise um Gott, um den uralten Turm,
und ich kreise jahrtausendelang;
und ich weiß nocht nicht: bin ich ein Falke, ein Sturm
oder ein großer Gesang.

I live my life in growing rings
which spread around the things about me.
I might never accomplish the last one,
but that is what I will try to do.

I make circles around God, around that most ancient tower,
and I circle a thousand years long;
and I still do not know: am I a falcon, a storm
or a great song.

III. Terce: Sand – Sara Goudarzi (b. 1976)
If my memories were sand
with every wave they'd start anew

And dance
unconscious of earlier strikes to their grain

And journey
                       to every shell
                                               coral
                                                           and cranny

They'd sit on a child's foot and play in the Sun

or castle in the blue

They'd forget the once river rock they were
banging head with every curve
shattering each day

If my memories were sand
they'd merrily play wave after wave
and forget each spot every few

©2004 Sara Goudarzi Reprinted with the permission of the author. This poem first appeared in The Adirondack Review.
 
IV. Sext: The winds have died, but flowers go on falling; – Ryokan (1758-1831)

The winds have died, but flowers go on falling;
birds call, but silence penetrates each song.

The Mystery! Unknowable, unlearnable.
The virtue of Kannon.

V. None: Zwielicht – (“Twilight”) Joseph von Eichendorff (1788-1857)
(Music from R. Schumann’s Liederkreis)
Dämmrung will die Flügel spreiten,
Schaurig rühren sich die Bäume,
Wolken ziehn wie schwere Träume -
Was will dieses Grau'n bedeuten?

Hast ein Reh du lieb vor andern,
Laß es nicht alleine grasen,
Jäger ziehn im Wald und blasen,
Stimmen hin und wieder wandern.

Hast du einen Freund hienieden,
Trau ihm nicht zu dieser Stunde,
Freundlich wohl mit Aug' und Munde,
Sinnt er Krieg im tück'schen Frieden.

Was heut müde gehet unter,
Hebt sich morgen neu geboren.
Manches bleibt in Nacht verloren -
Hüte dich, bleib wach und munter!

Twilight begins to spread its wings,
The trees stir ominously,
Clouds come like heavy dreams --
What does this gloominess mean?

If you have a favorite little deer,
Do not let it graze alone;
Hunters roam the forest and blow horns,
Voices wandering in and out.

 If you have a friend down here below,
 Do not trust him in this Hour;
 He might he seem friendly in eye and mouth,
 But he makes plans for war in treacherous peace.

 What today descends wearily down,
 Will lift itself tomorrow born anew.
 Many things at night go lost--
 Guard yourself--be awake and alert!

VI. Vespers: from the Book of John 1:5
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.
In him was life; and the life was the light of men.
And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

VII. Compline: Hashkiveinu (“Lay us down”) – traditional
Hashkiveinu Adonai Eloheinu l'shalom,
v'haamideynu malkeinu l'chayim,

ufros aleinu sukat sh'lomecha,
v'takneinu b'eitzah tovah mil'fanecha,
v'hoshieinu l'maan sh'mecha
V'hagen baadeinu,

v'haseir meialeinu oyeiv, dever
v'cherev v'raav v'yagon,
v'haseir satan mil'faneinu umeiachareinu,
uvtzeil k'nafecha tastireinu,

ki El shomreinu umatzileinu atah,
ki El chanun v'rachum atah

Ushmor tzeyteinu u-vo-einu,
l'chayim ulshalom,
mei-atah v'ad olam,
ufros aleinu sukat sh'lomecha,

Baruch atah Adonai, hapores sukat shalom aleinu,
v'al kpl amo Yisrael, v'al Yerushalayim.
 
Grant us, oh God, that we lie down in peace
and raise us up, our Guardian, to life renewed.

Spread over us the shelter of your peace.
Guide us with Your good counsel; for your Name’s sake, be our help.
Shield and shelter us beneath the shelter of your wings.

Defend us against our adversaries,
illness, war, famine, and sorrow,
Remove evil from before us and behind us.

For you, God, watch over us and deliver us. 
For you, God, are gracious and merciful.

Guard our going out and coming in,
to life and to peace, for eternity.
Spread over us the shelter of your peace.

Blessed are you, oh God, whose shelter of peace is spread over us.
Over all of your people of Israel and over Jerusalem.


A thousand years ago, you would find a “Book of Hours” in many homes.  It was an illuminated prayer book, helping the reader keep God in mind during the hours of the day with prayers, psalms, and biblical excerpts.  Some were quite simple, with modest illustrations and text.  Others were luxuriously decorated and adorned in gilt illumination.

I think about the importance of prayer in our lives–more as a function of hope than as of a religious expression, even though that is its principal source.  Prayer is common to all societies and to people in all walks of life, in some form or another.  There are basic kinds of prayer: supplication, exaltation, those that show our humility, and those that ask for great things from the ether.  But whatever the purpose, all prayer unites us as human beings.  As we seem to perilously catapult into the 21st Century, I decided that my first symphony should be like a contemporary Book of Hours; a kind of musical “magical realist’s” take on what this prayer book would look like today, and, ultimately, a reflection of hope.

Taking my musical cues from the form of a traditional “Book of Hours,” I set the piece in seven movements from the Liturgy of the Hours that the Book helped to maintain.  I then chose accompanying poems from different times, places, and cultures to inspire the piece.  Some are religious meditations, while others are taken directly from scripture.  Others, still, are modern invocations of desires or dreams.  And so, as the times of day are kept in these poems–from the early morning and bright breaking of dawn to the black of night–so too does my own Book of Hours take the journey from brightness to darkness over the course of its twenty-five minutes.

The first movement, informed by the Cummings poem “i thank You God for most this amazing,” opens with the idea of the quiet solitude before dawn, represented in orchestral unity.  This unison motive introduces each movement, one way or another, throughout the piece, but is not fully realized until the very end.  After the brightness of the first movement are the hopeful sentiments of Rilke’s poem from a collection of his early works–also called “The Book of Hours.”  Rings in the shapes of the music reflect the importance of the rings in his life-affirming words.  The third movement is more contemplative, as is the poem “Sand,” by the wonderfully gifted Persian-American writer Sara Goudarzi.  A bell is heard in the opening of the piece to bring the listener into focus on the words; string chords wash over each other in the background while a solo cello wanders through the music.

The fourth movement uses the words of Zen poet Ryokan as a departure point to invoke the driving sound of Japanese taiko drumming (with slight adjustments made to the timpani!).  This is a transition to the looming darkness of the fifth: an orchestration and arrangement I have made of Schumann’s “Twilight”–itself a setting of poem by his contemporary Joseph Eichendorff.  This darkness descends into a kind of madness in the sixth movement, which is a frenetic fugue inspired by the words from the opening of the Gospel of John.  At the end of the movement, the music plunges finally into chaos.

Order is found again at the last part of the work as the solo horn ushers in the final seventh movement, the “Hashkiveinu.”  This is a traditional Hebrew prayer--something of the equivalent of “Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.”  I was both introduced to this liturgy and taught the translation and meaning of the words by Rabbi Daniel Sklar.  Dan also gave me a greater understanding of the importance of this text.  The night time prayer of antiquity was an earnest one–in the meagerness of life in ancient times even surviving the night was not a given.  How can we be sure that the sun will come up tomorrow?  But it does, and it always does, and so the ending of the Book of Hours is about not only the sun rising again, but of hope that we may continue to be reborn in our own lives, defiant of pain and violence, and stronger in our humanity together.

--David Ludwig





Piano Concerto No. 5, Op. 73, “Emperor”  
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)


Beethoven actually wrote seven works which could be called piano concertos.  The first was a manuscript of 32 pages, composed when he was all of fourteen years old.  There is, as well, a version of his violin concerto that he arranged for piano and orchestra.  The five piano concertos we accept as representative works were all written after the young composer had made Vienna his home.  Between 1798, the year that Beethoven composed and performed his first piano concerto, and 1809, the year he composed his final piano concerto, considerable changes had take place in both Beethoven and Vienna.

In 1808, Beethoven had premiered his Piano Concerto No. 4, with himself as the maestro and soloist as usual.  The event was chilling, both physically and emotionally.  The program was four hours long, the theater was freezing cold, and the conductor/soloist was deaf.  An eyewitness account by Ludwig Spohr described the debut of the piano concerto:  “It was by no means enjoyment, for, in the first place, the piano was woefully out of tune, which, however, troubled Beethoven little, for he could hear nothing of it; and, secondly, of the former so much admired excellence of the virtuoso scarcely anything was left, in consequence of his total deafness.…I felt moved with the deepest sorrow at so hard a destiny.”

By 1809, Vienna too was suffering a hard destiny under the siege and occupation of Napoleon after his victory at Wagram.  Beethoven would find refuge in his brother Carl’s basement when the bombardment grew too loud, covering his head with pillows to protect what little hearing he had left.  His republican sentiments betrayed by the predations of Napoleon and his financial situation eroded by the devaluation of Austrian currency, Beethoven had no love for the French invaders.  Seated in his favorite coffee house one day, he shook his fist at the back of a passing French officer.  “If I as a general,” he said, ”knew as much about strategy as I the composer know about counterpoint, I’d give you fellows something to think about.”

So it came to pass that the premiere of the Piano Concerto No. 5 was two years after the composition of the work; it was neither conducted nor performed by Beethoven; and it was not in Vienna.  It was first heard in Leipzig on November 28, 1811, under the baton of Johann Philipp Christian Schulz, with Friedrich Schneider as soloist.  The Allgemeine Musik Zeitung of the following January called the work “one of the most original, imaginative, and most effective, but also one of the most difficult of all existing concertos….  It could not have been otherwise than that the crowded audience was soon put into such a state of enthusiasm that it could hardly content itself with the ordinary expressions of recognition and enjoyment.”

The Vienna debut at the hands of Carl Czerny a couple months later was not as successful, with accusations thrown at Beethoven that he could be “understood and appreciated only by connoisseurs.”  It was this performance, however, which may have been the source of the concerto’s nickname, as a French army officer was supposed to have been overheard acclaiming the work as “an emperor among concertos.”  Most likely the nickname was endowed by an early publisher in an effort to convey the work’s “grand dimensions and intrinsic splendor.”  Certainly the name was not given by Beethoven:  he had no love for emperors of any sort, and was particularly stung by the behavior of his former hero, Napoleon.




I.  Allegro – After three sweeping introductory chords with piano flourishes, the principal theme is introduced by the orchestra.  A subsidiary theme is presented in pizzicato strings in Eb minor, and then heard in the horns in Eb Major.  The piano enters and offers its versions of the themes.  Development and dialogue lead to the point where a closing cadenza would be expected.  Here Beethoven instructs the pianist:  “Don’t make a cadenza here, but attack what follows immediately.”  It is actually Beethoven’s written-out version of a cadenza on the main two themes, and the orchestra accompanies the latter half of the cadenza in a closing coda.


II.  Adagio un poco mosso – Muted violins present a hymn-like melody, which is followed by “quasi-variations” in the piano (as Sir George Grove characterizes them).  After the third variation, the bassoons sustain a B-natural, and then the entire orchestra unceremoniously sinks a half step to a B-flat, over which the piano starts to toy with the rondo theme of the finale that follows.  There is no break between this movement and the finale.


III.  Rondo: Allegro – In a brilliant and unique invention, Beethoven presents interwoven rondo and sonata forms.  The surging opening theme is the refrain of a rondo, and the repeats of this first subject encompass the introduction and development of a second, more singing subject.  The intricacies of form are rendered invisible by the impression of complete spontaneity throughout the movement, which closes as piano chords descend and die away over a repeated rhythm in the timpani.
--Hilary Hatch


André Watts, piano

André Watts burst upon the music world at the age of 16 when Leonard Bernstein chose him to make his debut with the New York Philharmonic in their Young People's Concerts, broadcast nationwide on CBS-TV.  Only two weeks later, Bernstein asked him to substitute at the last minute for the ailing Glenn Gould in performances of Liszt's E-flat Concerto with the New York Philharmonic, thus launching his career in storybook fashion.  More than 45 years later, André Watts remains one of today's most celebrated and beloved superstars.

A perennial favorite with orchestras throughout the US, Mr. Watts is also a regular guest at the major summer music festivals including Ravinia, the Hollywood Bowl, Saratoga, Tanglewood and the Mann Music Center. Recent and upcoming orchestral engagements include appearances with the Philadelphia and Minnesota Orchestras, New York and Los Angeles Philharmonics, and the St. Louis, Atlanta, Detroit, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Indianapolis, Milwaukee, Dallas, Seattle and National symphonies. During the 2009/10 season he travels to Japan in July to appear as a featured artist at the Pacific Music Festival in Sapporo and returns in the fall for an extensive tour of recital and orchestral appearances.

André Watts has had a long and frequent association with television, having appeared on numerous programs produced by PBS, the BBC and the Arts and Entertainment Network, performing with the New York Philharmonic, Boston Symphony, Philadelphia Orchestra, Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra and the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center among others.  His 1976 New York recital, aired on the program Live From Lincoln Center, was the first full length recital broadcast in the history of television and his performance at the 38th Casals Festival in Puerto Rico was nominated for an Emmy Award in the category of Outstanding Individual Achievement in Cultural Programming. Mr. Watts’ most recent television appearances are with the Philadelphia Orchestra on the occasion of the orchestra’s 100th Anniversary Gala and a performance of the Brahms Concerto No.2 with the Seattle Symphony, Gerard Schwarz conducting, for PBS.

Mr. Watts’ extensive discography includes recordings of works by Gershwin, Chopin, Liszt and Tchaikovsky for CBS Masterworks; recital CD’s of works by Beethoven, Schubert, Liszt and Chopin for Angel/EMI; and recordings featuring the concertos of Liszt, MacDowell, Tchaikovsky and Saint-Saens on the Telarc label. He is also included in the Great Pianists of the 20th Century series for Philips.

A much-honored artist who has played before royalty in Europe and heads of government in nations all over the world, André Watts was selected to receive the Avery Fisher Prize in 1988.  At age 26 he was the youngest person ever to receive an Honorary Doctorate from Yale University and he has since received numerous honors from highly respected schools including the University of Pennsylvania, Brandeis University, The Juilliard School of Music and his Alma Mater, the Peabody Conservatory of Johns Hopkins University. In June 2006, he was inducted into the Hollywood Bowl of Fame to celebrate the 50th anniversary of his debut (with the Philadelphia Orchestra).

Previously Artist-in-Residence at the University of Maryland, Mr. Watts was appointed to the newly created Jack I. and Dora B. Hamlin Endowed Chair in Music at Indiana University in May, 2004. Keep reading!

Monday, January 11, 2010

Two Musicians on our January Concert Program

Alan Jordan interviews Jeremy Levine, the VSO's principal timpanist, and Elizabeth Young Levine, a VSO violinist. They chat about our January concerts with André Watts in Bellows Falls, Burlington, and Rutland, traveling around Vermont with the VSO, and the music of David Ludwig (whose Symphony No. 1, "Book of Hours" will be premiered the weekend of January 29-31).

Keep reading!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Program notes: December 5 Masterworks Series

The VSO offers a five-concert Saturday Masterworks series at the Flynn Center in Burlington. All concerts begin at 8:00 p.m. and are preceded at 7:00 p.m. by Musically Speaking, a free pre-concert discussion that provides entertaining insight into the evening’s program. Anthony Princiotti conducts our second concert in the series, to be performed Saturday, December 5, at the Flynn Center in Burlington. Click "Keep reading!" to peruse the program notes.


Trittico Botticelliano
Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936)


In 1900 Respighi left his job as an orchestral violinist in Bologna, Italy to travel to St. Petersburg. There he was to play first viola for the Russian Imperial Theater's season of Italian opera. More important, the move brought him within striking distance of his goal to receive instruction in composition and orchestration from his idol, Rimsky-Korsakov. At his earliest opportunity, Respighi called on the Russian master and found a throng of like-minded admirers. After glancing at one of Respighi's scores, Rimsky-Korsakov announced, "I can see nobody else today!" and closeted himself with his young pupil, becoming his instructor for the five remaining months of Respighi's Russian stay.

Encouraged by his early teacher in Bologna to recognize that music other than opera deserved to be written (revolutionary thinking in Italy!), Respighi became the great Italian orchestral composer of his time. Involved in scholarly interests as well, he revered the Italian legacy of Renaissance music and art. Trittico Botticelliano (Three Botticelli Pictures) is the composer’s musical impression of three paintings by the Renaissance artist Sandro Botticelli. An evocative blend of the classical and romantic, the work was commissioned by Washington arts philanthropist Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge in 1926 following a tour of the United States by Respighi as pianist/conductor.




I. La Primavera - "Spring.” The painting is a sylvan scene including shepherds, nymphs, the goddess Flora and the three Graces. In the tradition of Vivaldi, Respighi heralds spring with bird calls and a rustic dance melody.

II. L'Adorazione dei Magi - "The Adoration of the Kings.” This small painting is overwhelming in its visual offerings of richly-dressed pilgrims descending from fine horses to worship the Mother and infant Christ child. The music opens with a moving Siciliana, and the contrapuntal melodic line includes wisps of Gregorian chant.

III. La Nascita di Venere - "The Birth of Venus.” This famous painting depicts the nude Venus, born of the sea, standing in the middle of a scallop shell above the life-giving waters. The music evokes the play of the waves that Debussy captured in La Mer. The long and sensuous melody that represents Venus grows to an eloquent crescendo, then fades to a close.

--Hilary Hatch



Symphony No. 3 in F Major, Op. 90
Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)




Brahms kept his audience waiting for six years between his second and third symphonies. He did the bulk of the work on this piece in the summer of 1883 in Wiesbaden, where his new young love, contralto Hermine Spiess, lived. As different from the first two as they are from each other, the Third reflects a more personal and intimate side of the composer. Eduard Hanslick, oft-quoted reviewer of the period, promptly nicknamed the symphony “Eroica,” although he pointed out that the only heroic parts were the opening and closing movements, which frame movements that “quiver with the romantic twilight of Schumann and Mendelssohn.” The Third is the least frequently performed of Brahms’ four symphonies, possibly because it is the only one which does not have a rousing, triumphant ending. It is undeniably a masterpiece, however: a product of the mature artist at the height of his powers, a work that fairly bursts with vitality and strength.

Karl Geiringer’s biography of Brahms has this to say about the symphony:




Like the first two symphonies, the Third is introduced by a brief motto; this not only provides the bass for the grandiose principal subject of the first movement, but dominates the whole symphony. It assumes a particularly important role in the first movement, before the beginning of the recapitulation. After the passionate development, the waves of excitement calm down, and the horn announces the motto, in a mystic Eb Major, as a herald of heavenly peace. Passionless, clear, almost objective serenity speaks to us from the second movement. No Andante of such emotional tranquility is to be found in the works of the youthful Brahms. Particularly attractive is the first theme of the following Poco Allegretto, which (in spite of its great simplicity) is stamped with a highly individual character by its constant alternation of rhythms. Further, Brahms contrived to make the concise three-fold form of the movement more effective by orchestrating the da capo of the first part in quite a different manner. Such a mixture of simplicity and refinement is characteristic of Brahms in his later years. The Finale is a tremendous conflict of elemental forces; it is only in the Coda that calm returns. Like a rainbow after a thunderstorm, the motto, played by the flute, spans the turmoil of the other voices with its message of hope and freedom.



Symphony No. 2 in c minor, Op. 17, “Little Russian”
Peter Ilyitch Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)




In the summer of 1872, after an exhausting year of working too hard, Tchaikovsky visited his sister, Alexandra, in the rural village of Kamenka, in the Ukraine. Inspired by the peasant songs he heard, he started work on his second symphony. Tchaikovsky put the finishing touches on the piece in Moscow in November of that year, and wrote to his brother, “Modi, my conscience pricks me. That is my punishment for not having written to you for so long. But what can I do when the symphony, which is nearing completion, occupies me so entirely that I can think of nothing else? It seems to me my best work, at least so far as correctness of form is concerned, a quality for which I have not so far distinguished myself.” Tchaikovsky showed the manuscript to Rimsky-Korsakov and the other members of the Russian ultra-nationalist group known as “The Five”—Mussorgsky, Borodin, Balakireff, and Cui—and received enthusiastic praise from them.

The premiere was a success, yet Tchaikovsky, ever his own severest critic, was not satisfied. Seven years later, he undertook a major overhaul. He wrote to his friend and patroness Madame von Meck, “How I thank the fate that made Bessel fail in his contract and never print this score! How much seven years can mean when a man is striving for progress in his work! Is it possible that seven years hence I shall look upon what I write today as I look at my music written in 1872? I know it is possible because perfection—the ideal—is boundless.”




I. Andante sostenuto; Allegro vivo. The slow introduction begins with a melancholy French horn solo, a melody taken from the Ukrainian variant of the folk song, “Down by Mother Volga.” The main theme presents a stormy, vigorous motive which contrasts with the lyrical, gently yearning second theme. An energetic development section develops both themes to a brilliant climax, after which the slow horn solo is heard once more.

II. Andantino marziale, quasi moderato. The slow movement begins with the tragic wedding march from the last act of Tchaikovsky’s opera Undine, composed in 1869 and later destroyed by the composer, save for this excerpt and a few other fragments. The central section of the movement is based on “Spin, My Spinner,” a Russian folksong that Tchaikovsky included in a compilation of folksongs published in 1868.

III. Scherzo: Allegro molto vivace. The nimble scherzo’s rhythmic drive is punctuated by a whimsical trio featuring the woodwinds in a contrasting duple meter.

IV. Finale: Moderato assai. This movement is a set of variations--harmonic, contrapuntal, and instrumental--on the Ukrainian melody, “The Crane.” A slow introduction presents the short melody, but propulsive energy is the hallmark of the movement. The exuberant, nearly frenzied, ending inevitably reminds the listener of a fiery Cossack dance.

The designation “Little Russian” was given to this symphony by the critic Nicholas Kashkin, the Ukrainian region having been known in Tsarist days as “Little Russia.”
Keep reading!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Vermont Music Now No. 10: Gwyneth Walker

VSO New Music Advisor and accomplished composer David Ludwig interviews Vermont composer Gwyneth Walker on this latest episode of Vermont Music Now. Ms. Walker expounds on her many years as a professional composer, making her living solely from the craft. She gives advice on the business of composing and the classical music industry. Click "Keep reading!" to watch.


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Friday, October 9, 2009

Program notes: October 24 Masterworks Series Opening Night

The Vermont Symphony Orchestra celebrates the opening night if its 75th Anniversary Season Masterworks Series. We're rolling out this celebratory year with a concert that was supposed to happen in March of 2008. If you don't remember the scenario, read about it by clicking here. Since that evening, we have been patiently waiting for a re-programming of this concert, featuring Soovin Kim on violin and VSO principal oboist Nancy Dimock. Jaime Laredo conducts the music of David Ludwig, Sibelius, and Schumann. Read the complete program notes after the jump.


Radiance
David Ludwig (1972- )


Radiance was written during my time at the Yaddo Artist Colony in Saratoga, NY, in the summer of 2003. That area of the world is alive with glowing, radiant things in the summertime, and these fireflies, stars, long sunsets, and burning campfires became one with the piece and inspired the title. I wanted to capture the warm evening and all of its incandescent surroundings in this short work for oboe and string orchestra.

The piece itself is rather simple, like an extended song or, more appropriately, a nocturne serenade. The oboe opens with its own motive that is then echoed in the strings in a chorale texture. The motive transforms and develops over the course of the work, as the music alternates between chorale writing and a singing aria-like passage with the soloist. The climax is hushed and quiet, like a hazy summer night.

The Richmond Symphony commissioned Radiance, and premiered it in 2003 with oboist Michael Lisicky and Mark Russell Smith conducting. The Vermont Youth Orchestra also performed it at a Carnegie Hall concert in 2005.

--David Ludwig


Nancy Dimock, oboe

Nancy Dimock, principal oboist of the VSO, has been a frequent soloist with the orchestra, performing the Bach Double Concerto with music director Jaime Laredo, the Haydn Symphony Concertante, the Barber Canzonetta and David Ludwig’s Radiance. In addition, she is a member of the Pro Arte Chamber Orchestra of Boston, the Glimmerglass Opera Orchestra, Boston Musica Viva and the Chameleon Arts Ensemble, and a former member of the Albany Symphony. She frequently performs as a guest with the Boston Lyric Opera, Portland Symphony, Rhode Island Philharmonic and the Boston Pops. She has been the principal oboist of the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra and can be heard performing with the HSO on the Grammy-nominated CD, “Rosemary Clooney: The Final Concert.”

Ms. Dimock has been on the Prairie Home Companion radio show and PBS’s Great Performances television broadcast. She has recorded for the Concord, Albany and Chandos labels. She has been singled out for mention in numerous reviews, among them one by Susan Larson from the Boston Globe, who wrote: “The Chameleon Arts Ensemble opened with Joan Tower's lovely 1989 Island Prelude in its wind quintet incarnation. Lush, serene wind chords create an opalescent soundscape over which the oboe, gorgeously played by Nancy Dimock, soars and swoops in increasingly active volutes and trills; the ensemble joins the oboe in a final orgy of birdcalls and trills.”

Ms. Dimock lives in Stoneham, Mass., with her husband Joel and their son Marco.


Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in d minor, Op. 47
Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)


Sibelius styled himself a “dreamer and poet of nature…I love the mysterious sounds of the fields and forests, water and mountains.” One is struck by the visual image conjured by the mention of Sibelius’ boyhood habit of perching on a huge rock by a lake to play his violin, a veritable Nordic (violin-playing) Pan. Fierce nationalism and reverence for Finnish history and myth, particularly the epic Kalevala, were also fundamental ingredients in his musical creations.

The breeziness, breadth and freedom of a young man in his prime – this is what is heard in Sibelius’ first two symphonies, bursting with the indestructibility and self-assurance of youth. A distinct transformation takes place in the third symphony, however, and the years of change between the second and third symphonies are precisely those during which Sibelius crafted his only violin concerto, written in 1903, rewritten, and published in 1905. Sibelius suffered from ear disease that threatened him with total deafness. The “Nordic faun” was forced to come down off his rock to face his own mortality, and the ensuing compositions reflected some morbidity, but more importantly, reflected a refinement and conciseness of statement, a control which yielded music of a more individual and personal nature.

Sibelius began to show increasing respect for conventional forms, and despite its modern character, the violin concerto belongs to the romantic tradition of the 19th century. The rhapsodic mood of the first movement (Allegro moderato) is set in the melodic sweep of the first theme, spread out over thirty bars in a chant by the solo violin over a somber background of muted and divisi violins, soon echoed by the woodwinds. A second, more lyrical subject is introduced by the dark sound of the celli and bassoons, later taken up by the soloist. These themes grow and develop, providing a background for virtuoso display which always remains an organic part of the whole.

The second movement (Adagio di molto) starts with a poignant phrase in thirds for the woodwinds, and the violin begins a theme of tender melancholy. The movement moves towards a great climax with the violin providing decorative figurations over an orchestral treatment of the theme, suddenly dying away.

The final movement (Allegro ma non tanto) is a strongly rhythmic rondo often perceived as a “Danse Macabre,” but interpreted by the English conductor and program annotator Donald Tovey as a “polonaise for polar bears.” Violins and celli introduce a second theme, and the solo violin displays a seemingly endless variety of violinistic fireworks against the darker, more earthbound colors of the orchestral winds and strings.


Soovin Kim, violin

American violinist Soovin Kim is an exciting young player who has built on the early successes of his prize-winning years to emerge as a mature artist equally gifted in concerto, recital, and chamber music repertoire. Mr. Kim began the 2008-2009 season touring Europe with pianist Mitsuko Uchida performing Messiaen’s Quatuor pour la fin du temps to rave reviews. Highlighted among his concerto appearances will be his Russian debut performing the Sibelius concerto with the Moscow Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ignat Solzhenitsyn, coupled with a special recital performance at the American Embassy. The opening of the season also saw the release of Mr. Kim’s new recording on Azica Records of Chausson’s Concert for violin, piano, and string quartet and Fauré’s Sonata in A Major, op.13. This has been followed by concerto, chamber music, and recital performances in some of the world’s most prominent venues – Carnegie Hall, the Concertgebouw, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Lincoln Center, Royce Hall, Herbst Theatre, and Strathmore Hall among them. Soovin Kim’s Chausson and Fauré recording with Azica Records was a collaboration with pianist Jeremy Denk and the Jupiter String Quartet.

Mr. Kim’s recording of Niccolò Paganini's demanding 24 Caprices for solo violin was released in February 2006, rose to Billboard’s Classical Chart, and was named Classic FM magazine’s Instrumental Disc of the Month. Mr. Kim also recorded Schubert’s cello quintet with Janos Starker and Arensky’s cello quartet with Lynn Harrell, both released by Delos International, and duo works by Schubert, Bartok, and Strauss with Jeremy Denk for Koch/Discover. Mr. Kim is recognized for his commitment to fresh interpretations of standard repertoire.

In recent seasons he has played the Mendelssohn concerto with the Kitchener-Waterloo (Canada), Cincinnati Chamber, and National Philharmonic orchestras; Mozart with the Baltimore and Nashville symphonies; Sibelius with the Moscow and Vermont symphonies; Brahms with the Annapolis symphony and the Seoul Philharmonic; and Vivaldi's Four Seasons with the Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia and other ensembles without conductor. Mr. Kim and Mr. Denk have performed the Brahms sonatas in Seoul and Rome, and the Charles Ives sonatas in Philadelphia and at Bard College. Mr. Kim has also given recitals of the Bach solo sonatas and partitas in New York, Philadelphia, Seoul, and at the Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival.

Along with his love of the classic works, Soovin Kim is passionate about commissioning new works. Mr. Kim is the first violinist of the Johannes Quartet which is touring this season with the venerable Guarneri Quartet performing newly-commissioned works by Esa-Pekka Salonen, Derek Bermel, and William Bolcom. Mr. Kim’s Korea-based piano quartet, M.I.K., recorded four commissioned works by Korean composers for its first album for Stomp/EMI. He also arranged for and performed the premiere of Canadian composer R. Murray Schafer’s string trio in 2007.

Soovin Kim won first prize at the Paganini International Competition when he was only 20 years old. He was later named the recipient of the Henryk Szeryng Career Award, an Avery Fisher Career Grant, and a Borletti-Buitoni Trust Award. Subsequently he went on to perform with the Philadelphia Orchestra, San Francisco Symphony, Indianapolis Symphony, Orchestra of St. Luke’s, Stuttgart Radio Symphony, Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra, and the Accademia di Santa Cecilia Orchestra. He has given solo recitals at Weill Hall in New York, Terrace Theater in Washington D.C., Ravinia, Tokyo’s Casals Hall, and the Seoul Arts Center. Mr. Kim devotes a considerable amount of time to teaching at Stony Brook University and is also on the faculty of Bard College. He is a graduate of the Curtis Institute of Music where he studied with Jaime Laredo and Victor Danchenko, and he also studied with David Cerone and Donald Weilerstein at the Cleveland Institute of Music. Mr. Kim maintains a close relationship with the Marlboro Festival and regularly spends summers there. Soovin Kim plays on the 1709 “ex-Kempner” Stradivarius which is on loan to him.


Symphony No. 3 in Eb Major, Op. 97
Robert Schumann (1810-1856)


Robert Schumann was perhaps the quintessential Romantic composer. His work is marked by lyricism, literary or other extra-musical inspiration, and a extreme self-expression. Often his pieces had personal associations – memories, feelings, specific events – of which biographers get only glimpses from the notes in his manuscripts. In his short and often tumultuous life (most of his last three years were spent in an insane asylum) he produced an incredibly diverse body of work – symphonies, songs, chamber music, piano music, choral music – usually working extremely fast during bouts of inspiration. His wife was Clara Wieck Schumann, one of the most famous piano virtuosi of the century, and the Schumanns were good friends with Felix and Fanny Mendelssohn, Brahms, Liszt, and Berlioz.

For much of his career, Schumann was better known as a music critic than a composer. As a youngster, he was just as interested in poetry and literature as he was in music, and he wrote prolifically throughout his life: articles, journals, diaries (including a joint “marriage diary” with Clara), letters, etc. He founded the journal Neue Zeitschrift für Musik and was its owner and editor from 1835 to 1844. In a sincere effort to represent a dialectic way of thinking, he created various characters from whose points of view he would write, in criticism and in private correspondence. Florestan, Eusebius, and Meister Raro represented for him the ability to hold and embrace simultaneously conflicting viewpoints, to respect the value of both instinctive emotion and calculated thought and always listen to the voice of moderation to balance the two.

During the first parts of his compositional career, Schumann tended to explore particular genres for long periods of time, writing mostly piano music in the 1830s, songs and song cycles in 1840, symphonic works in 1841, and chamber music in 1842. His third symphony, however, was composed in November and December of 1850, the last of his four published symphonies (the fourth was initially written in 1841 and revised for publication in 1851). Its common subtitle “Rhenish” was not Schumann’s, but he would likely have approved. He had just accepted the position of Municipal Music Director in the capital of the Rhine Province, Düsseldorf, and was inspired by the good-natured outlook of the people in his new home to write a symphony that would have popular appeal, one which “here and there reflects a bit of local color.” He succeeded admirably: the first performance (under his direction on February 6, 1851) was greeted with enthusiastic cheers.

The spirit of the third symphony is uplifting throughout, with themes that rise in pitch and masterful motivic development that generates consistent forward momentum. Its form is unusual, stretching the typical four-movement Romantic symphony to five. The first and last movements, marked lebhaft (lively), are traditional outer movements in their rousing characters. The second and third are less conventional in that they contrast less than the typical symphonic scherzo and adagio movements; they might even be considered more intermezzo-style pieces than full symphonic movements.

Any emotional weight that might be wanting, however, is more than made up for in the remarkable fourth movement. Originally subtitled “In the character of an accompaniment to a solemn ceremony,” the additional slow movement was reported to have been inserted into the standard form in order to commemorate the elevation of Archbishop Johannes von Geissel to the rank of Cardinal at the spectacular Cologne Cathedral. The consensus of Schumann scholarship agrees, however, that the sight of the cathedral itself was the composer’s inspiration. The Cologne Cathedral was one of the largest buildings in the world at the time. Originally begun in 1248, its construction continued on and off for literally centuries; renewed civic interest and advances in construction techniques in the nineteenth century had enabled a recommencement of the work in 1842. Upon completion in 1880, the cathedral was the tallest structure in the world until the erection of the Washington Monument, in 1884, and then the Eiffel Tower. Construction was ongoing during Schumann’s visit in 1850, and the highly emotional artist was clearly awestruck. The music he wrote as a tonal portrait is unique in the orchestral literature, notable for the intensity of its overlapping counterpoint and the solemnity and grandeur of orchestral color, incorporating trombones for the first time in the piece for the traditional sound of ecclesiastical music. The rising theme of the movement, like the cathedral itself, literally reaches for the heavens, celebrating the efforts of mankind to come ever closer to God.

--Gabriel Langfur
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Friday, September 25, 2009

Tech Talk 2.0: Let the Games Begin

A few years ago after our annual staff retreat (did you see our picture on Facebook?), I mentioned casually that I prefer chamber music to a full-scale orchestral explosion. I was riding “shotgun.” Alan Jordan, VSO Executive Director, was behind the wheel. He half-jokingly remarked, “I should drop you off on the side of the road, right here.” We were in Moscow, Vermont. Alan took this comment as a direct hit on what the VSO is doing: presenting orchestral works and using that medium to educate children (and others) about music and its value. Explaining what qualities in chamber music attract me is related to explaining why I love Vermont (I live in Burlington), and why I hated living in Boston (for all of nine months); it is a matter of personal connection. A stage populated with 70 players plus a conductor seems faceless to me. I find it hard to connect to the human side of the music, especially when my passage is blocked by a sonic wall of bombastic brass. (This is one of the reasons I adore our “Life is a Symphony” musician profiles. The chamber concert is an intimate affair. Two, three, four, five people on stage at a time. The music is quieter, begging for your attention. The chamber musician’s attire is slightly more ostentatious than that of her orchestral sister. Admiring said clothing is an excellent way to get through an unfortunate programming of, say, Kurtag, not to mention simply marveling at the aerobic body ticks and facial contortions required of these performers.

You are now thinking, Why is this VSO person hating on what she is supposed to be promoting? Well, maybe not in those exact words. This is a viable inquiry. Thankfully, the VSO is made up of several multi-talented individuals who make a multi-faceted organization possible. The VSO provides best of both worlds – orchestral and chamber music. Jaime Laredo is the personification of this versatility. He conducts the VSO, solos with the VSO, plays in a trio with his wife Sharon Robinson and long-time friend and pianist Joseph Kalichstein, and he is Music Director of the VSO. I’m excited to report we have just begun our annual fall foliage tour, which happens to feature a smaller orchestra, that is, a chamber orchestra. The Made in Vermont tour is at the heart of the VSO’s mission: quality programming accessible to all. We are touring to smaller communities statewide (and playing in some cool little venues). OK, so the musicians might not be dressed in their best Versace gown, but smaller scale venues allow for a more intimate concert experience. Made in Vermont is special for another reason, one that is decidedly more Vermont than Boston. Each year, we commission a piece for the tour by a Vermont composer or one with close Vermont ties. The piece is made in Vermont. Get it? This year’s composer is Derrik Jordan of East Dummerston. He has composed a piece about an Abenaki myth that explains how Lake Champlain was made. (Made in Vermont. Get it?) I’ll leave the retelling to Derrik. In addition to this piece (which you can learn more about by watching a ten-minute video interview with Derrik on our blog), the program includes an arrangement of a Mozart String Quartet, Bizet’s light-hearted Jeux d’enfants (Children’s Games), and Haydn Symphony No. 82 (“The Bear”). The Bizet may have been programmed as a shout out to our French friends (one of which was Samuel de Champlain), but it is occurring to me now that it is a fitting piece for a tour happening not only around the beginning of another school year, but also at state colleges around Vermont. I guess you could say the students at Vermont State Colleges are scholars being made in Vermont. Get it? OK, OK, I promise I won’t do that anymore. Every one-time college student knows the games commence once mom and dad are back on the interstate heading home. Perhaps this isn’t what Bizet had in mind (he was probably thinking more along the lines of hopscotch, as opposed to sip scotch). Check out the complete tour on our website. Thankfully for us all, the VSO’s musical foray doesn’t end on October 4 at 9:30 p.m. in Woodstock. Our dichotomous orchestral/chamber programming continues throughout our 75th anniversary season (lucky you!).

Exactly one month from our opening concert, on October 24, the VSO will present its first Masterworks series concert at the Flynn Center in Burlington. This program was supposed to happen in March of 2008, but we experienced one of those rare “acts of God” contracts always allude to, but never actually happen. The lights went out. The ice on the branches of trees and on power lines was too much and the grid went dark. At least it did in the southern part of Burlington and in Winooski, as well. The Flynn was shrouded in darkness; or at least dimly lit by emergency luminance. What would have been a real bummer of an evening was redeemed by the evening’s soloist, Soovin Kim, who walked on stage in the darkness and played some solo Bach. Chamber music at the Flynn? Preposterous! It was his impromptu performance that stands out in the attendees’ memories. When asked about it, people always mention Soovin, not the nasty weather outside, not the inconvenience of it all. I’d like to think some people remember the fact that they were able to trade in their March 8 ticket for a dazzling chamber recital in May of that year including Soovin, Jaime, Sharon Robinson, and principal flutist Albert Brouwer. Many sentences later, this digression serves to announce that our October Masterworks concert this year will be an exact replica of that concert, minus the darkness and confusion. Going back to the orchestral vs. chamber thing I’ve been yakking about: it is the concerto, I believe, that successfully fuses orchestral music to chamber music. This is where these two genres collide. On one hand, you have the big orchestra creating the sonic wall. However, that is balanced with the sensitivity of that one player who makes the human connection, to pull on your heart strings, to make the performance intimate, to be the face of the music. On October 24, that role will be handled by Soovin Kim playing Sibelius’ Violin Concerto. I hate to gloat, Burlington, but despite the weather on March 8, the whole gang of us traveled down to Rutland the next day for a repeat peformance (as part of our Sunday Matinee Series) and I can report it was the kind of piece and the kind of playing that makes every hair on your body stand on end. I sat as close as I could (which is pretty close at the Paramount in Rutland). I mean, I could see the rosin dust lightly wafting around Soovin, creating something like magician’s smoke. There was sorrow and yearning and what felt like a long journey being told in his playing. I was told this was the first time Soovin performed this particular concerto. A year and a half later, I’m dying to see the same program again, if only to observe the maturity of the piece under this particular violinist.

I’m only going to go that far, but it should be known that we are eagerly awaiting the arrival of January because in late-January we welcome Andre Watts, world-famous pianist, for a three-concert run of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto. In March, we continue the three-year trend of programming double concertos written for Jaime Laredo and Sharon Robinson. This year’s pick? A Child’s Reliquary by Richard Danielpour. Our Masterworks finale this year, in May, will be one bombastic in-your-face piece that is more than OK in my book: Verdi Requiem. More later! I didn’t even really talk about what’s been happening on this tour. I suppose we are only one day in….

Wow, I just pumped myself up. I hope I did the same for you. After all, it is your Vermont Symphony Orchestra. Still yours after all these years (75, to be exact).

Some pics from day one:



This tree was exactly one half red, one half green.




I figured out I could nest my grapes in my truck steering wheel.
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Vermont Music Now Episode 9: Tim Woos and Josh Morris

David Ludwig recently completed his Music Alive! Residency with the VSO. We utilized his expertise and knack for teaching and enlightening budding musicians in a number of ways. Other organizations did the same, such as the Vermont MIDI Project. In this episode of Vermont Music Now, David chats with Tim Woos and Josh Morris, two gifted young composers involved with VT MIDI that David has mentored. The opening credit music is a piece by Tim called "Assembly Line" and the closing credits are accented with one of the short movements from Josh's piece "6x6x6," which was composed for the VSO. Watch the episode after the jump.

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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Facebook Haiku contest winner

Do you have a Facebook account? Are you a fan of the VSO? We offer special discounts and fun contests paired with ticket giveaways to our Facebook fans. Become a fan today. Recently, we have been promoting our upcoming Made in Vermont music festival statewide tour. This past weekend, fans were charged with writing a haiku incorporating autumn and music. I chose one winner to be the recipient of four Made in Vermont concert tickets. Susan Smith-Hunter took the prize. Read her haiku after the jump.

Damp red leaves seek earth
Dark crickets scrape and fiddle
Chill comes with morning.
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