WNMF 1: Sunrise
Works
The WSO is proud to present this year’s WNMF distinguished guest composer, Christopher Theofanidis. The festival opens with his celebrated orchestral work Rainbow Body, which draws inspiration from medieval lyricism and mysticism to trace a colorful and dramatic sonic journey.
Celebrated percussionist Lisa Pegher joins us for her WSO debut in a performance of the fiery Percussion Concerto by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Jennifer Higdon, a work that seeks to flaunt the rich tonal and technical possibilities of the world of orchestral percussion. Polina Nazaykinskaya’s Reading the Wind follows, taking inspiration from Stravinsky’s legendary Rite of Spring in its celebration of music, dance, nature, and ritual.
The evening culminates in James MacMillan’s symphonic tour de force Concerto for Orchestra, a work that channels haunting memories of music from the past to showcase each section of the symphony orchestra, both in focused isolation and in flavorful combinations with each other.
PROGRAM NOTES
Christopher Theofanidis – Rainbow Body (2000) for orchestra
In the past few years I have been listening to the music of medieval mystic Hildegard von Bingen a great deal, and as simple and direct as this music is, I am constantly amazed by its staying power. Hildegard’s melodies have very memorable contours which set them apart from other chants of the period. They are wonderfully sensual and set up a very intimate communication with the divine. This work is based on one of her chants, ‘Ave Maria, o auctrix vite’ (Hail Mary, source of life).
Rainbow Body begins in an understated, mysterious manner, calling attention to some of the key intervals and motives of the piece. When the primary melody enters for the first time about a minute into the work, I present it very directly in the strings without accompaniment. In the orchestration, I try to capture a halo around this melody, creating a wet acoustic by emphasizing the lingering reverberations one might hear in an old cathedral.
Although the piece is built essentially around fragments of the melody, I also return to the tune in its entirety several times throughout the work, as a kind of plateau of stability and peace within an otherwise turbulent environment. Rainbow Body has a very different sensibility from the Hildegard chant, with a structure that is dramatic and developmental, but I hope that it conveys at least a little of my love for the beauty and grace of her work.
Rainbow Body is dedicated to Glen Rosenbaum, without whose support and encouragement I would not be composing.
—Christopher Theofanidis
Jennifer Higdon – Percussion Concerto (2005)
Lisa Pegher, percussion
The 20th century saw the development of the percussion section grow as no other section in the orchestra. Both the music and the performers grew in visibility as well as in capability. And while the form of the concerto wasn’t the least bit new in the century, the appearance and growth of the percussion concerto as a genre exploded during the later half of the century.
My “Percussion Concerto” follows the normal relationship of a dialogue between soloist and orchestra. In this work, however, there is an additional relationship with the soloist interacting extensively with the percussion section. The ability of performers has grown to such an extent that it has become possible to have sections within the orchestra interact at the same level as the soloist.
When writing a concerto I think of two things: the particular soloist for whom I am writing and the nature of the solo instrument. In the case of percussion, this means a large battery of instruments, from vibraphone and marimba (the favorite instrument of soloist Colin Currie), to non-pitched smaller instruments (brake drum, wood blocks, Peking Opera gong), and to the drums themselves. Not only does a percussionist have to perfect playing all of these instruments, but he must make hundreds of decisions regarding the use of sticks and mallets, as there is an infinite variety of possibilities from which to choose. Not to mention the choreography of the movement of the player; where most performers do not have to concern themselves with movement across the stage during a performance, a percussion soloist must have every move memorized. No other instrumentalist has such a large number of variables to challenge and master.
This work begins with the sound of the marimba, as Colin early on informed me that he has a fondness for this instrument. I wanted the opening to be exquisitely quiet and serene, with the focus on the soloist. Then the percussion section enters, mimicking the gestures of the soloist. Only after this dialogue is established does the orchestra enter. There is significant interplay between the soloist and the orchestra with a fairly beefy accompaniment in the orchestral part, but at various times the music comes back down to the sound of the
soloist and the percussion section playing together, without orchestra.
Eventually, the music moves through a slow lyrical section, which requires simultaneous bowing and mallet playing by the soloist, and then a return to the fast section, where a cadenza ensues with both the soloist and the percussion section. A dramatic close to the cadenza leads back to the orchestra’s opening material and the eventual conclusion of the work.
Written for Colin Currie, this work is dedicated to him.
“Percussion Concerto” was commissioned by The Philadelphia Orchestra, The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, and The Dallas Symphony Orchestra. This commission was made possible with support from The Philadelphia Music Project (an artistic initiative of The Pew Charitable Trusts, administered by The University of the Arts), and by a generous gift from LDI, Ltd. and the Lacy Foundation.
–Jennifer Higdon
Polina Nazaykinskaya – Reading the Wind (2013) [Canadian premiere]
I composed Reading the Wind in 2013 as part of a program honoring the centenary of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Reflecting on Stravinsky’s masterpiece, I was struck by the profound connections between music, dance, nature, and ancient ritual—forces that, when intertwined, can awaken a mystical experience.
Rhythm and sound can unveil the power of the invisible world. In turning the pages of nature’s unwritten book, we rediscover mystery as an essential part of our existence. Learning to interpret the symbols that lie beyond language sharpens our perception of light and shadow, allowing us to sense the shifting Winds of Change.
In this way, the artist does not so much invent as reveal—like a sculptor who releases form from stone by clearing away what is superfluous. By seeking truth through communion with nature, even the wind itself can become a guide, dissolving boundaries between past and future and uncovering hidden patterns that bind them together.
—Polina Nazaykinskaya
James MacMillan – Concerto for Orchestra: Ghosts (2023/2024) [Canadian premiere]
My Concerto for Orchestra was written in 2023/24 and is in one continuous, through-composed movement, lasting about 25 minutes. It has a subtitle – Ghosts – as the music seems to be haunted by other, earlier musical spirits and memories. Right from the start of the opening section we can hear allusions to folk-dance forms, an eastern European hymn and Scottish traditional music.
Various chamber groups emerge from within the orchestral fabric and there is much deliberate focus on soloistic playing throughout. Duets and trios are important – the work opens with an eleven-note theme being thrown between two trombones, and later there are other duos for clarinets, piccolo and tuba, and two violas.
Trios are also prominent – three bassoons at one point, as well as a quotation from Beethoven’s Ghost Trio (which gives this work its subtitle), and allusions to the famous Debussy trio of flute, viola and harp. Also in the spotlight at various points is a string quartet, a wind quintet and a brass sextet.
The work has four main interlocking sections. The first is fast and presents most of the initially important materials. The second section is slow and elegiac, and operates like a two-part canon, presenting many different combinations of the two lines, sometimes fully orchestral, other times soloistic and in chamber dimensions.
The third section, a scherzo, is marked presto. Its main “refrain” is an energetic, rhythmic theme based on my memories of the dance forms my children used to listen to when they were teenagers… The episodes between these focus on some of the chamber groups mentioned above. Eventually we hear a brief moment from the Beethoven Ghost Trio, but the piano is replaced by a celeste. This is then smudged into the Debussy memory and finally a new trio (cor anglais, bass clarinet and vibraphone) joins, all forming a trio of trios.
The Concerto culminates in an Allegro finale, based on an unsettled and compulsive compound rhythm, containing nasal fanfares on horns and counter-rhythmic interjections on trumpets, piccolo and xylophone. The music eventually subsides to a more serene conclusion, where the hymnic theme (which has haunted the music throughout) is given its final statement.
Programme note © James MacMillan 2024