Episode 1: T.L. Read

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Top Composer

I’ve been obsessed with "Top Chef" on the Bravo network for a while, but the thing is, since I watch so little TV at home, I mostly get to see it only when I’m in hotels. As I am on one of my Vermont Symphony residency weeks, I am in the Jackson Gore resort hotel at Okemo Mountain, and as it turns out, “Top Chef” is on all night. Good times.

It’s not your average “reality” show. The premise is that a group of sixteen emerging chefs is whittled down to one over the course of a season and the winner gets fame and riches (and a very nice set of knives). The chefs face various challenges against each other and are judged by four professionals from the field (regulars and famous guests). What makes the show different than say, MTV’s “Real World,” or more currently “American Idol,” is that all of the contestants (and judges) on “Top Chef” are experts. And in watching the show I realized how much similarity there is between chefs and composers.

Yeah, yeah, putting together ingredients to make a whole, but what was interesting to me was the sensitivity they had to the different flavors, styles, and textures, much like composers are particularly sensitive to pitch, rhythm, styles, and well, textures… And then some of the chefs have been big on “molecular” cooking. Is that like “spectral” music? I haven’t learned much about it, but it seems obvious that there would be schools of cooking as much as there are schools of composing. And it’s not just like a “French” style or type of cuisine, but actual developing approaches to the subject of cooking that evolve—sometimes growing into different ideas, and sometimes dying away. Perhaps I can create my own schools of cooking based on major trends in 20th century music:

Minimalism: Chefs prepare the same dish every night but change one seasoning per meal. The food must be very palatable and have very few ingredients.

Serialism: Chefs can’t prepare the same dish until they have cycled through all other available dishes first. Early cooks used to just change the entrée every night, but now chefs will rotate the appetizer, dessert, drinks, and even the silverware.

Expressionism: Waiters must scream about the futility and absurdity of life as they bring the food. Interpretive dance a must.

Neo-Classicism: Features only food cooked and preserved for long periods of time. The cutlery is new, however.

Experimentalism: Chefs will try to cook any object to try to make it edible. Particularly requested was a piece for cooked amplified cactus. The famous chef Jean Cage once prepared and served a dish with nothing on the plate.

The New Complexity: That the food will be so full of different flavors will make it too difficult to taste on a first setting. That it’s too difficult to prepare makes this culinary movement ultimately theoretical.

Impressionism: Flavors are vague and ambiguous…food is made light and fluffy, like clouds, really…not sure what that was I just ate, but it tastes like chicken…or did it?

So those are some examples we can pursue. As a side note, I brought this idea before my Second Viennese School at Curtis and we decided that for a final class we’ll make a large serialized pizza. We’ll get twelve different toppings and put each one on a slice, not repeating any topping until all eleven others are adorned on the pie. Then we decided not to tell anyone about this plan because it was too dorky for public consumption.


It’s now a few days later and I’m finishing up this blog addition at the Green Mountain Coffee factory store and café in Waterbury, VT. Good coffee and free wireless? I think I’ll order a cot.

So I did notice one competition between the chefs on the program which was to go shopping and prepare dishes that used no more than five ingredients. At first I wasn’t sure how the judges could tell if the contestants violated the rules, but then I realized that these are experts—they have the kind of palette that can know exactly what is at work in what they are eating, much as a well-trained musician with good ears can hear what is happening on the deepest levels of the music and how it is put together, down to scales, motives, and notes. And as we may enjoy a good meal as much as the next person, does anyone doubt that the more time we spend knowing about food and preparing it that we taste more and (hopefully) enjoy it more profoundly? The same must be true with music.

So take that cooking, I mean, music class you’ve been putting off but meaning to take! Or just listen to Beethoven like you would eat an expertly prepared meal, with the care and a slowness that we seem to lose in our daily concerns. Keep reading!

When it rains, it pours...and sometimes freezes

Two VSO musicians share their concert emergencies NOT related to the power going out!

I left my car at the Middlebury Inn Saturday morning and joined Hilary in her car to go to the orchestra meeting. Due to the ice on the road we were half an hour late, but had a good meeting and rehearsal that afternoon. When the lights went off before the concert we brought our clothes upstairs, in order not to have to look for them later in total darkness, and joined Soovin on stage, where he entertained the confused audience with his gorgeous Bach Chaconne performance, in the dark.

Our early drive home was uneventful, but when I returned to my car it was draped in inch-thick ice. I couldn't get my hand in the door handle, let alone open any of the doors. Poor Hilary had to bring me all the way home. Thanks Hill!

--Dieuwke Davydov

Saturday Burlington was harder to walk around than I've seen it in 35 years - streams of water over ice and various mixtures of slush, snow and ice. Of course it would have to be the one time in my career I'd forgotten a white shirt. So I'm navigating up to Macy's in a panic at 7:30, by 7:47 standing under an emergency light in the catacombs trying to calm myself as I struggled to remove the endless number of pins from the shirt, especially the two whose heads were hidden so ingeniously I considered ripping the shirt to get them out.

Finally I made it upstairs at 7:55 to catch the last 1/3 of the Chaconne - from panic to mesmerized in 30 seconds.

--David Gusakov
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David Ludwig shows his dark side

I arrived at approximately 7:05 PM to see our "Town Meeting" at which the VSO's 2008/2009 season, Music of Our Time, would be unveiled by New Music Advisor David Ludwig, Music Director Jaime Laredo and Executive Director Alan Jordan. One moment Jaime is talking about the October program, the next moment, the lights are out. David Ludwig doesn't miss a beat joking, "We didn't want to leave you in the dark" [about our forthcoming season]. David has promised to become a prolific VSO blogger, with a series of posts detailing his work composing the double concerto to be premiered next season, his work in Vermont schools under the auspices of our SymphonyKids educational outreach program, as well as whatever wacky events happen in between...such as a power outage during a pre-concert talk at the Flynn on Saturday. David reflects...

I am sitting in a little inn in the middle of Vermont. It’s one of these wonderful places laid out like a chalet where they bring you cider and cookies while you sit by the fire and blog about being a composer…

But rather than talk about myself, which I will surely do in upcoming installments here, I thought I would write about my experiences with the Vermont Symphony Orchestra from the past couple of days. These times have been unique.

Last night was supposed to be a sold out concert for the VSO in Burlington. The program at the Flynn center was my oboe and string orchestra piece called Radiance, the Sibelius violin concerto played by my old friend Soovin Kim, and Schumann’s 3rd Symphony (the "Rhenish") for the second half. It looked to be a good program and I was so looking forward to having my piece played. For most composers, having an orchestra play your music is an event—I hope that I never get too used to so many people up there all pouring their hearts into playing my music. It’s an awesome feeling.

Just before concert time, we held a press conference on stage for interested regular audience members (the “we” was myself, as moderator and Composer-in-Residence and New Music Advisor for the symphony, Music Director Jaime Laredo, and Executive Director Alan Jordan.) What we announced was the new season for the orchestra’s 75th anniversary (which will be celebrated over two years). The reason I was involved in this specifically was because there is a vision behind the programming for next season that makes it very special—the season is only to feature music written since the inception of the orchestra. We were pretty strict about that, too. As we were going through possibilities to go on Masterworks concerts, lots of things were struck down because they were written just a few years before 1935.

I think this season is a big deal, and I think it’s going to get national attention for the orchestra. And it’s a funny thing, because people not in the know would wonder why there would be any particular excitement or trepidation about it. Isn’t it strange that classical music institutions might need courage and foresight to program music written during the lifetimes of the majority of the population? What other art is like this, where there is such a perceived disconnect between the music of our time and the audiences of our time?

Really, that disconnect is only a matter of perception, and when we announced dances from “West Side Story,” and music from Prokofiev’s “Romeo and Juliet,” there were collective affirmations from the audiences—a field of “mm’s” in the rows of seats. Like so many things in life, once you realize that the territory is familiar after all, it’s a lot less scary. The orchestra is doing a number of absolutely contemporary pieces, too, including a double concerto I’ll be writing for Jaime Laredo and Sharon Robinson. In the context of all of these wonderful 20th century works, the new pieces take on an interesting place in the programming. Everything becomes fresh and exciting to hear; works like Barber’s Capricorn Concerto become the standard rep and the pieces written in the 21st century become opportunities to hear music that no one has ever heard before. The audience clearly saw it that way too, and they offered assurance and enthusiasm. We can get so worried about what people will think when we try something new, and for sure the Vermont Symphony is showing a certain kind of bravery in this, given what the classical music world has become. But maybe we can give our audiences some credit for having open minds and ears. This season will bring newness to Beethoven in the next season, too.

In Beethoven’s time, the scene was vastly different, and not just because there was no heat in the hall (that wouldn’t fly in Burlington). Concerts in those days would be all new music, with one older piece (maybe forty years old?) put on as a curiosity or something different. How much this has reversed since then! Is the audience dying out? Is this generation of older listeners going to eventually disappear and we’ll be left with nothing? Is classical music—how I don’t love that term “classical”—is classical music dying, too? We know that music education has suffered, and we all know that improving this is the silver bullet to improve the status of the art, but there is an audience now, and it is resolute and devoted. Many have written about the sky falling in the next fifty years, but I am positive about it and excited for what is to come. I think the devotion of this audience and the vision of orchestras like this one will bring in an ever-stronger time of love and appreciation for our music, and ever more music of our time. I believe that contemporary music will bridge this generation of listeners to the next, and I’ll explore how in upcoming writing here.

As for the concert, well…it was cancelled. An ice storm of the kind that only Vermonters (and a select few others) know put the power out all over town and at the Flynn. But before it was cancelled Soovin went out in front of the audience to play the Bach Chaconne. He is from Plattsburgh, and a bunch of his admirers (there are many!) drove the long way around Lake Champlain specially to hear him. In the dark, the audience kept pouring in, directed by the flashlights of volunteers. And the orchestra had taken the stage too, everyone seated with their instruments in hand, ready to take up playing if the lights should come back on. So we all sat or stood there in silence and in the near blackness, listening diligently to Soovin’s heroic fiddling. No one stirred to take off their coat or find their phone. No one talked to their neighbors or unwrapped those (@#$%ing) mints in the extra-loud wrappers. Just silence while Soovin played. And at the end there were tears and the whole audience of a thousand plus leapt to its feet, unable to see the soloist at all, but all ears, nonetheless. It was an incredibly moving experience—a musician giving to the audience an unexpected gift and the audience giving back with their most earnest applause.

Is it any wonder that I’m hopeful about the future of music?
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Muscle Memory: 1, Acts of God: 0

You can tell when people really love what they do. The butcher who suggests a great steak rub that would make you swear off A1 forever. The tow truck driver who cruises town on snowy nights, pulling cars out of snow banks and ditches without giving thought to pay. The young virtuoso violinist that takes the stage in semi-darkness to assuage a sold-out Flynn Center audience. Soovin Kim proved his love for what he does this past Saturday night when he serenaded an audience with Bach's Chaconne as the VSO musicians sat behind him, veiled in shadows. On Monday morning, I expected to see Sunday newspaper clippings detailing our dilemma. I was awfully surprised to learn that the Free Press didn't provide any coverage of the story, despite there being an FP photographer at the Flynn. Instead, we had received three messages from patrons who had come to enjoy the music on Saturday, exalting Soovin for allowing them just that. Below are bits of three messages, passed from us to you.

"Thank you so much for that magical moment Saturday night. Faced with no power and a crowd of people, you all handled that situation with great grace. And gave us a wonderful gift of Soovin Kim. Listening to him in the dark give us that impromptu solo was a night I won't soon forget. Whatever else you can do to replace that evening will only be extra." -- Elise Whittemore-Hill

"You made friends for life Saturday night...people will never forget it!" -- Chris Hadsel

"Last night (Saturday) was one of the most memorable musical experiences I can remember. As I drove through the slushy streets, half flooded from water pouring down the Burlington hill, I wondered how many folks would venture out to hear Soovin Kim and the VSO. As I came down Main Street, I first noticed that the traffic lights at the corner of Church and Main weren't working, and then... the Flynn Marquee was dark!! Oh, no! But I could see people standing out front, so I parked and slogged my way up the half-darkened streets and into the lobby of the Flynn. It was eerie with the emergency lights providing the only illumination. But people were waiting patiently, hoping for that miracle which often happens in these storms: the lights coming back on! Soon the ushers were saying to just go in and take a seat. Never mind about the tickets or what seat you were supposed to have. We moved into the semi-darkened auditorium and found a seat. On stage were the shadowy figures of orchestra members, and in front of them was the lone figure of Soovin Kim, holding his violin. He tried to shout a message to the audience, but it was too noisy in there for him to be heard. So he put his violin under his chin, and started playing that wonderful Bach Partita in D Minor (my favorite unaccompanied Bach violin piece!). The audience who were seated quieted down, and soon even the people coming in were silently finding seats, too (I heard that Troy was outside quieting people down before they entered). And so we sat in that surreal setting - the storm raging outside, the emergency lights faintly illuminating the theatre, the glimpse of Soovin's bow hand moving as his bow flew across the strings - and the sound of Bach reaching out to a faithful and attentive audience. When at last we heard the final chords, we stood up, clapping and cheering. Many of us had tears in our eyes as someone shone a flashlight on Soovin as he accepted the bouquet of roses. I caught a glimpse of him wiping a tear from his face afterwards as he listened to the roar of the audience. Even with the announcement that the concert had to be canceled - a not-unexpected decision by that time - the experience clearly had affected the audience.

"What a tribute to the power of music: the orchestra and staff members who were gamely trying to make the show go on; the audience that was determined to brave the elements to hear their symphony; the soloist playing from his heart in the dark!

"Thanks to all of you. It was a most memorable evening!" -- Anne Brown
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SymphonyKids Spotlight: Ah! Cappella

Using nothing but the instruments they were born with, the four singers in “Ah! Cappella” have wowed schoolchildren across the state with a varied and amusing program since their debut in 1999. All four are teachers as well as musicians, and expert at presenting a program that delights as it instructs. They perform a wide selection of music, from an early madrigal and part of a mass to an African-American spiritual and a coal miner’s song. It’s a great moment when they pull out concealed baseball caps and sing a marvelous version of “Take Me out to the Ballgame!” The “Geographical Fugue” is also a highlight; and the audience learns some Swahili to sing along with an African “coming of age” song. “Back of the Bus” is a touching and uplifting song about race discrimination. A question-and-answer period allows students to explore not only the group’s multicultural musical choices, but the lives of professional Vermont musicians too. Ah! Cappella’s show builds to the message that music as a universal language can bring the world closer together by singing together.

Soprano Claire Hungerford, of Enosburg; alto Linda Radtke, of Montpelier; tenor Nathaniel Lew, of Burlington; and baritone Brett Murphy, of Berlin, are all members of the Vermont Symphony Orchestra Chorus. They have been singing together as a quartet for several years, and have developed a wonderfully informal and captivating way with student audiences. (Grown-ups love them too!)

This spring, Ah! Cappella has been chosen as the Burlington City Arts Residency group, touring to Burlington’s elementary schools. BCA funds these performances, bringing our SymphonyKids programs to an average of 2,250 Burlington-area students.

Upcoming performances for Ah! Cappella:
March 13 at Franklin Central School (9 AM), Berkshire Elementary School (10:15 AM), and Enosburg Elementary School (1 PM)
March 27 at Green Mountain High School (9:30 AM & 10:30 AM; students from Chester-Andover, Cavendish, and Proctorsville) and Floodbrook Elementary (1:45 PM)
April 3 at Stowe Elementary (9 AM), Morristown Elementary (10:15 AM), and Wolcott Elementary (1:30 PM)
April 10 at St. Mary’s School (9 AM), Bingham Memorial School (10:30 AM), and Bridport Central School (1:15 PM)
In addition to the BCA Residency performances, which have yet to be confirmed.

See all of our great programs by watching our SymphonyKids DVD. This five-minute clip show features footage from our Musicians-in-the-Schools groups, the Musical Petting Zoo, and our Orchestral Youth Concert, CREATE.

To book a SymphonyKids program in your school, contact Eleanor Long at (802) 864-5741 x 14 or e-mail Eleanor at vso dot org.
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The VSO asks Soovin Kim and Nancy Dimock five questions

Noted American violinist Soovin Kim will be the guest soloist for the forthcoming Vermont Symphony Orchestra concert on Saturday, March 8 at the Flynn Center in Burlington at 8 p.m. and on Sunday, March 9 at the Paramount Theatre in Rutland at 4 p.m. Join us beginning at 6:30 p.m. on March 8 for desserts generously provided by Mirabelle's in downtown Burlington. Renew your Masterworks subscription that evening or become a new subscriber and enjoy a complimentary beverage on the VSO. Following this reception, join host David Ludwig, our New Music Advisor and composer-in-residence, and guests Jaime Laredo and Alan Jordan for a "Town Meeting," where information regarding the exciting 2008/2009 season will be announced. All ticket holders for the March 8 concert are invited to attend this free event and are encouraged to participate in the question-and-answer session to follow. The Rutland Sunday Matinee Series concert is preceded by Musically Speaking at 3 p.m., our preconcert talk featuring the guest artists providing entertaining insight into the composers, the music, and themselves. Vermont Youth Orchestra alumnus Soovin Kim returns to Vermont to team with his former teacher, VSO Music Director Jaime Laredo, who will conduct the Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor by Jean Sibelius. This exciting concert also includes Symphony No. 3, “Rhenish” by Robert Schumann and Radiance by VSO composer-in-residence David Ludwig. VSO Principal Oboist Nancy Dimock will perform as oboe soloist. Stick around after the concert on Saturday night for a signing with Soovin Kim. His CD, Paganini: 24 Caprices, will be on sale in the Flynn Center lobby. Subscribers to the Sunday Matinee Series in Rutland are invited to a recpetion at Three Tomatoes in downtown Rutland following the concert where they can rub elbows with Jaime, Soovin, and others.

Soovin Kim is an exciting young player who, building on the early successes of his prize-winning years, has emerged as a mature artist, equally gifted in concerto, recital, and chamber music repertoire. Born in the United States (and raised across Lake Champlain in northern New York) into a family of non-musicians, he was given a violin at age 4, at his request. At 15, he was accepted to the Cleveland Institute of Music, and ultimately moved to the Curtis Institute of Music where he studied with Jaime Laredo and received his Bachelor of Music Degree in 1999. He has worked with some of the finest pedagogues and artist-teachers in the world blending qualities from various violin traditions. His musical activities encompass a wide range of repertoire from Bach to the works of living composers. Soovin Kim’s fifth recording is about to be released. Today he plays on a 1709 Stradivarius, the “ex-Kemper.” We asked Soovin five questions about his life as a professional musician.

VSO: As a professional musician, you probably don't find yourself at home too often. What item(s) can't you leave home without (except for your instrument and concert dress, naturally!).
SK: Unfortunately, my first responses are: laptop, cellphone, and organizer. Every once in a while this also includes an iPod, microphone, headphones for Studying music or listening to edits of recordings. And of course all of the necessary chargers. I guess all of these were designed to improve our quality of life and the laptop is certainly essential for checking weather.com each morning before getting dressed! I love that. But I find it amazing how these gadgets have become essential to living a dynamic life with the rest of the world. A day or so without email makes the next day of emailing that much worse. Maybe I should just close my account...

I am always carrying a pile of music around with me, the music I am playing on that trip as well as pieces I am playing in the future and then occasionally new repertoire that I'm just interested in learning for my own sake. A very fancy seat pad and neck pillow for my "aging" body on long plane trips also always go in the suitcase. Sunglasses, passport, vitamins, Sonicare, hair product, umbrella...are you sure you want to hear more?! :-)

VSO: Do you have a pre-performance ritual? How do you deal with nerves?
SK: I generally like to be at the hall and stay put so I can prepare quietly and slowly for the concert - maybe 90 minutes would be ideal. But often this can't happen for one reason or another and so we all have to make do with whatever time we have. Getting "warmed" up emotionally is a challenge for every performer and I spend that time trying to get into that state of being. Visualizing the hall, the people, and most importantly the music in general helps this focusing process.

I practice slowly to try to gather myself and then try to "perform" the music as the concert time approaches. I never eat a full meal backstage beforehand or I would fall asleep. Coffee is always appreciated!!

I am philosophical about nervousness. If it is truly nervousness it is usually because I am not prepared enough and in that case I deserve to be horribly anxious! If that's not the case then that flutter is usually an added excitement at sharing the great music with the other musicians on stage and the audience. This excitement will only enhance the performance with that magic that distinguishes concerts from practicing.

VSO: If you could be Maestro for a day, what would you program?
SK: First of all, I would not be Maestro!! I will never subject myself to that! And if I were Maestro only for one day then I had better program something easy because that's not much practice! But I know what you are asking. I can't put an actual program together right now but the first pieces I would be interested in doing would be Beethoven 5th Symphony, Brahms 3rd and 4th Symphonies, Tchaikovsky String Serenade, and Bartok Concerto for Orchestra. What an impossible question!

VSO: If you weren't a musician, what would you be doing?
SK: Maybe wishing I were a musician?! Unless I were a Major League Baseball general manager. Or a ridiculously talented writer.

VSO: What's your favorite aspect of Vermont?
SK: It is home for me. I grew up in Plattsburgh, NY but for me that was always an extension of Vermont. So many of the people closest to me either live in Vermont, are from Vermont, or spend a lot of time in Vermont. It never ceases to amaze me how many remarkable people there are in such a small area!

Nancy Dimock regularly performs throughout the northeast. She has served as principal oboist of the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra, has performed on the Prairie Home Companion radio show and PBS Great Performances television broadcast, and on numerous recordings. We asked her five questions about her life as a professional musician.

VSO: As a professional musician, you probably don't find yourself at home too often. What item(s) must be with you at all times? (except for your instrument and concert dress, naturally!)
ND: Toothbrush, reeds, reed tools and tuner are necessities for my instrument, and I usually have a bottle of water and an energy bar with me as well.

VSO: Do you have a pre-performance ritual? How do you deal with nerves?
ND: I try to spend some quiet time before I play studying my part/the score. That helps calm me down, usually. If I'm really nervous, I try to remind myself that what I'm doing is fun and I need to make a connection with the music and the audience, so letting nerves get in the way of that would be fruitless.

VSO: If you could be Maestro for a day, what would you program?
ND: Assuming that I would get to perform in the orchestra and not have to conduct (that would NOT be good!), I'd love to play Ibert's Escales (Ports of Call), Stravinsky's Symphony in C, and the Mozart Gran Partita.

VSO: If you weren't a musician, what would you be doing?
ND: Something in science, though at this point, I have no idea what. Probably something in the chemistry/biology field.

VSO: What's your favorite aspect of Vermont?
ND: The state itself is lovely, of course, and it's wonderful to get to see it during all four seasons, but what keeps me playing with the VSO is the people-- both the people in the orchestra and the organization, and the people I've met because of my work with the VSO.
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David Ludwig Radiance (and his answers to five of our questions)

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 their Carnegie Hall concert in 2005.

--David Ludwig

VSO: As a professional composer, you probably don't find yourself at home too often. What item(s) must be with you at all times?
DL: Well, actually I'm at home quite a bit! That is, when I'm not teaching or traveling. But my home space is my workspace (like the stage for an instrumentalist), so I can tell you what's with me at all times here at home: my blue lead pencils, artsy fun erasers, a ruler, of course music paper, a stand for the piano, the cat, and a mug of coffee.

VSO: Do you have a pre-performance ritual? How do you deal with nerves? Do composers get nervous before one of their pieces is played?
DL: I get very nervous for performances! Several times friends have asked me why I get nervous if there's nothing I can do about the performance. I say, "that's exactly WHY I get nervous in the first place!" It doesn't matter if it's an elementary school choir or a good orchestra in Carnegie Hall, I just get nervous. I've learned to cope with it better in the past years and sort of pretend like I'm not there in a sort of "out-of-body" experience disassociation. That way, it can be more like, "oh look at that composer looking nervous!"

VSO: If you could be Maestro for a day, what would you program?
DL: I have been a Maestro for a day...that's a great question, anyway! I would program a concert in exactly the way they used to be programmed – all freshly composed contemporary works and one older piece to serve as an interesting contextualizing contrast. This is how it was for Beethoven – all of his concerts were new music with one old piece on it! Now it's quite the reverse, with all old music and one new piece (maybe) or some at time token nod to the 20th Century. (I'm sorry, but Prokofiev on a program does not fill a "modern work" quota!) It would require the same sort of paradigm shift back, and there would be great resistance, but ultimately understanding and a new kind of enthusiasm about classical music that it could use now. Music has completely changed from a vibrant and active, living art form, to one that is mostly about preserving literature. Let's leave that to the libraries and museums and zillions of recordings of this music!

My uncle Peter Serkin has been presenting programs with a very wide mix of pieces – from early Medieval and Renaissance music arranged for piano, to Bach, to the most "contemporary" and sophisticated works, and then with a large Beethoven sonata to finish. Aside from being really exciting, it allows for a wonderful sense of context as the listener sees threads that run deeply through the long and rich history of Western music. I think this is a pretty great approach, too.

VSO: If you weren't a composer, what would you be doing?
DL: Jeez, this is tough. I always liked the law, but I always liked writing more. The problem is that I am already a writer in a way, so that wouldn't be another profession.

Ah, yes, I would be the third baseman for the Phillies this season (since Lowell wouldn't come down from Boston for 50 mil – I would do it for half that!).

VSO: What's your favorite aspect of Vermont?
DL: That's a whole essay in and of itself! I just feel – and always have – a closeness to Vermont. I remember as a little boy driving up to spend the holidays with my grandparents. It would get colder and colder on the drive, but also more open and clear – more free! My mother would always point out the one room school house where she went to school and the maple taps on all the trees. I feel close to people I know here in Vermont. I feel close to the social beliefs and the social consciousness of people I've known in Vermont. But it's the value in culture – the investment in the arts that is the thing I like the most about Vermont.
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Sibelius Violin Concerto

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in d minor
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.
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Schumann Symphony No. 3, "Rhenish"

Symphony No. 3 in Eb Major
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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