A&E
Symphoria plays Wellin Hall
By Gabe Skoletsky ’16
February 27, 2015
This past weekend in Wellin Hall, Symphoria—the reincarnation of the Syracuse Symphony—continued its incredible streak of performances that diverge from musical opportunities of the traditional classical ensemble. Some of Central New York’s finest musicians showcased three masterpieces of the past one-hundred-and-fifty years: Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings in C Major, Rodrigo’s Concerto de Aranjeuz for Piano and Guitar and Sibelius’s Symphony No. 7 in C Major. Hamilton’s own Associate Professor of Music Heather Buchman conducted the 58-part orchestra to outstanding effect. Guest guitarist Kenneth Meyer provided Concerto de Aranjeuz’s necessary Spanish flair amidst a relatively traditional orchestra.
As the name implies, Serenade for Strings in C Major consists of only strings instruments (violins, violas, cellos and basses) in four movements. Peter Tchaikovsky composed the piece in 1880, stating that he concocted it “with inner conviction.” Perhaps the most enduring legacy of Serenade for Strings stemmed from George Balanchine’s 1934 ballet, Serenade. Balanchine famously reversed the order of the last two movements in order to ensure that his ballet ended on a sad note instead of a happy one.
While the string players delivered a flawless performance, Serenade for Strings most importantly showcased Buchman’s extraordinary versatility as a conductor. In addition to leading the orchestra, Buchman conveyed the deep emotional contrast that exists in each movement. The melodically freer and exhilarating First Movement had a constant projection of acceleration. Its frequent contrasting moments of build up and tension demanded that the conductor effectively embody these changing textures. Buchman fulfilled this role beautifully.
“Being that conducting is the only purely musical art that is kinesthetic in nature—it’s visual as opposed to sonic,” says Buchman, “we motivate sound though motion. Any of the movement studies I have done throughout the years has been with the intention of allowing myself to embody the music.” Buchman’s intention to “embody the music” is especially apparent in moments that required stricter movement. The Second Movement, a waltz section, demanded Buchman to stiffen her motions dramatically. The consistent beat accents and infrequent texture changes demanded that she refrain from her earlier prominence of freer movements.
Rodrigo composed Concerto de Aranjeuz for Piano and Guitar at the onset of Spain’s new fascist regime in 1939. The guitar’s prominence alongside the traditional orchestra generated a style that seemed familiar to the average listener, but included a distinct national quality with the prominent guitar. However, Concerto’s most interesting innovation is the role of the guitar in the nontraditional orchestral setting. It primarily functioned in the same way that pianos normally do in concertos. The guitar would introduce new themes as a solo instrument, and the rest of the orchestra would emphasize the same themes in a contrapuntal fashion. From a performance standpoint, Guitarist Kenneth Meyer recognized, “You have to know when it’s your turn to lead and it’s your turn to follow.” In Concerto, there was a continuous shift of the guitar as the most prominent instrument in the orchestra to the accompanist of the orchestra.
The beginning of Concerto’s second movement gave fans of the jazz piano virtuoso Chick Corea an exciting surprise. Corea borrowed motivic elements of Rodrigo’s second movement in his most famous standard, Spain. Furthermore, Corea tends to introduce Spain with the introductory passage of the second movement. In fact, Corea’s inspiration for Spain originated from Mile Davis’s cover of Concerto from his 1960 album, Sketches of Spain.
Although it was disappointing that the exciting entrance of Spain did not follow the introduction, the Second Movement greatly displayed Meyer’s proficiency as a soloist. He has mastered both a technical and emotional style that allowed him to him to retain his status as the premier musician in the orchestra.
In her introduction to Sibelius’s Symphony No. 7, Buchman described the piece as perfect for the academic intentions of Hamilton College: “Here at Hamilton College, where we value clarity and conciseness, Sibelius ought to be our patron saint.” She could not be more right. Unlike Mahler’s grand ninety-minute symphonies in four movements, Symphony No. 7 lasts on average twenty-four minutes with only one movement. “It’s like a cloud where ideas keep emerging out of,” says Buchman. There may have been only one movement, but it was exciting to listen to which motivic information Sibelius thought was important enough to restate. This sense of continuity created both a cerebral and invigorating listening experience.
When asked about the opportunity to conduct Symphony No. 7, Buchman described a deep personal attachment when she first heard it. “It was so majestic, it was so inspiring, especially as trombone player,” she confessed. “I am incredibly grateful for Symphoria for allowing me to interpret a piece that for has meant a great deal to me for so long.”