UNCG Symphony
Robert Gutter, music director
Monday, October 2, 2006
7:30 pm
Cone Ballroom, Elliott University Center
Program
Prelude to Lohengrin Richard Wagner
(1813-1883)
In the South (Alassio), Op. 50 Sir Edward Elgar
(1857-1934)
Intermission
Symphony no. 4 in F minor Ralph Vaughan Williams
Allegro (1872-1958)
Andante moderato
Allegro molto
Allegro molto
Notes
Prelude to Lohengrin - Richard Wagner
The Prelude to "Lohengrin" (composed in 1848' and produced in 185o) is musically symbolic of
the descent of the Holy Grail, its presentation to those who supplicate and adore, and the return
of the sacred vessel to its home in the heavens. The "Lohengrin" Prelude is a miracle of
inspiration and atmosphere. Only the Prelude to "Tristan and Isolde" is more subtly contrived, and
the accents of "Tristan" are dark and sultry with passion, whereas this strain is radiant as the
skies. It is wholly mysterious, a miraculous birth. There is a life without beginning or end, once the
ethereal harmonics of two violin desks have been sounded, to the musical phrases which are
elements of a single thought. The parts of this strangely integrated conception weave together as
the vision of the Grail descends. What was at first but mystical radiance becomes a glowing
harmony that permeates the whole atmosphere, until, with a glory and flash of color which are
almost visual, the trombones proclaim the unveiling of the sacred vessel to the eyes of man.
Thereafter the instruments are gradually withdrawn as the Grail ascends and disappears in the
sky whence it came. This score reverses the customary order of musical climax. Usually music
rises in pitch as it rises in intensity. Here the lowest pitch is the moment for a climax of supreme
majesty. Notice, also, how Wagner, as one might say, protects and encases his musical Grail in
tone of its own stuff, diffused all about it. As the vessel never touches the earth, so this music
seems to be suspended, without contacts, in the atmosphere. Wagner never surpassed the
originality and delicacy of these pages of orchestration. If he had only this flash of consummate
genius to (his credit he would be one of the greatest composers.
In the South (Alessio) - Edward Elgar
Sir Edward Elgar's early career was a constant economic struggle to make ends meet. He played
and taught violin and bassoon, taking on such odd jobs as coach and conductor for the staff of
the County Lunatic Asylum at Powick. He also composed a number of choral and orchestral
works that had garnered a modicum of success in the provinces. Another source of modest
income was the composition of salon pieces, light music played in cafés, cabarets and wealthy
homes. His obscurity suddenly evaporated in 1899, when at age 42, his Enigma Variations
propelled him to worldwide recognition.
As an indication of how his life and reputation had changed, Elgar spent the late fall and early
winter of 1903-04 in Alassio on the Italian Riviera, to prepare for an Elgar Festival at Covent
Garden in March 1904. One of the works he wrote for the occasion was the concert overture In
the South, a quasi tone poem describing the resort and the surrounding landscape.
As the highlight of the proverbial "Grand Tour" of the 18th and 19th centuries, Italy has inspired a
whole flock of composers to "write about their summer vacation" in music. In the South was
something of a long digression while Elgar was working on his First Symphony - which he never
managed to complete for the Festival. Like most overtures for more than a century, In the South
conforms to the basic structural principle of sonata allegro form: an exposition of the principal
themes, their development plus the addition of some new thematic material, and a recapitulation
with some variation and rearrangement of the principal themes.
A British writer, Paul Serotsky, has written: "From the outset, Elgar's valiant main theme breeds
like nobody's business." Elgar associated the abundant themes in the Overture with various
sights, scenes and events from his vacation, via incidental remarks and jottings destined to
appear in the original program notes. These include the assertive opening theme that Elgar
described as "Joy of living (wine & macaroni)." The contrasting second theme group includes the
musical portrayal of a shepherd with his flock, playing a reedy flute, and a visit to "Moglio church
& back by the old mule track" (the "Moglio" theme rhythmically imitating the composer's
mispronunciation of the Italian, "Moglio" into a three-syllable word). The development section
introduces three additional named themes, the "ruins of a Roman bridge," followed by a "strife"
theme supposedly reflecting the "drums and tramplings" of the war-torn country. Finally comes
the "canto popolare," a beautiful viola solo portraying the shepherd's song. Above the "ruins"
music, Elgar added a notation to the score of a few lines from Byron's Childe Harold, referring to
the power of Ancient Rome and beauty of the land. It's just possible that the viola solo is a
musical allusion to Hector Berlioz's Harold in Italy in which Childe Harold is portrayed by the solo
viola.
Although Elgar resented the comparison with the tone poems of Richard Strauss, made by his
friend and music editor August Jaeger, In the South has more than its extra-musical associations
in common with his German contemporary. The orchestration of the opening, with its prominent
brass solos, not to mention certain melodic turns of phrase and harmonic progressions, are
perhaps unconscious reminiscences of the opening of Strauss' Don Juan and in the "Roman
Ruins" movement of his first tone poem, Aus Italien, suggesting that Elgar may have been
"protesting too much."
Symphony no. 4 - Ralph Vaughan Williams
Ralph Vaughan Williams began writing his Fourth Symphony in 1931, but various distractions
prevented him from completing the work until late in 1934. At last, the work was performed for the
first time in April, 1935, in London. The event caused a sensation in the world of English music.
Vaughan Williams received a long and enthusiastic ovation, and most critics and musicians
present expressed the view that it was a profound and important piece. Listeners familiar with the
composer’s music also noted a departure from his earlier work. The English lyricism that had
become Vaughan Williams’ trademark had been replaced with a tougher, more dramatic tone,
and the harmonic idiom was more adventurous, more modern, than anything the composer had
yet attempted. If this last quality made the symphony less amiable than his prior works of this
kind, it nevertheless constituted an authentic expression of Vaughan Williams’ state of mind. “I
don’t know whether I like it,” the composer famously remarked of the music during rehearsals for
the premiere, “but it’s what I meant.”
Precisely what “it” was, what the composer meant to convey in this work, prompted a good deal
of speculation on the part of his friends and others who heard the piece. For the first time,
Vaughan Williams had declined to give to one of his symphonies a subtitle hinting at an extra-musical
subject. (His previous works in this genre were called “A Sea Symphony,” “A London
Symphony,” and “A Pastoral Symphony.”) Nevertheless, a number of listeners regarded the new
score as a reflection of the darkening political situation of the 1930s. Shortly after the premiere,
one of the composer’s friends told him in a letter: “Someone said it should be called ‘Europe
1935,’ and that is rather what it conveyed to me -- the feeling of some huge force at work, driving
us to fight and struggle, which eventually may shatter us to pieces, and yet we know in our heart
of hearts that there is something in life which withstands destruction and brings order out of
disorder.” Others heard in the music a resolve to resist the rising threat of fascism. It is significant,
however, that Vaughan Williams began writing this symphony in 1931, before Hitler had assumed
power in Germany and before Mussolini had gone to war against Ethiopia. Moreover, Vaughan
Williams himself denied any extra-musical meaning in the symphony. “I wrote it,” he assured a
friend, “not as a definite picture of anything external -- e.g. the state of Europe -- but simply
because it occurred to me like this -- I can’t explain why.”
Despite this lack of specificity, an air of crisis unquestionably attends the symphony’s opening
moments. Vaughan Williams begins the work with a fierce cry, a great outburst involving the
entire orchestra. This statement involves several melodic ideas, but the most important is a
sinuous four-note motif, heard a number of times. This figure bears attention, for it will recur in
important ways not only during this first movement but over the course of the symphony. No
composer could long sustain the violent intensity of these initial moments, and Vaughan Williams
soon turns to a new idea which, though less anguished in character, is no less impassioned;
indeed, it is as ardent a melody as the composer ever wrote. Vaughan Williams has one further
subject for this movement, a march-like theme scored for horns and strings. The composer’s
development of this material yields music of energetic, even savage, intensity, but the music
eventually settles into a long coda passage of surprising tranquility.
The ensuing slow movement -- Vaughan Williams structured this symphony in the traditional four-movement
design -- brings music of a very different sort. Over a “walking” bass line, first the
muted violins and then the oboe and other woodwinds spin long, expressive lines that entwine in
counterpoint. Twice the music gains power and momentum, reaching climaxes that expand a
chorale-like phrase heard at the very start of the movement. Each time it then reverses direction,
as it were, returning to the quiet contrapuntal weaving and steady bass line that form the principal
subject here. An ethereal coda featuring the flute recalls the parallel passage in the preceding
movement.
Vaughan Williams’ third movement is a rollicking scherzo. Notice, though, that the rambunctious
scherzo theme is a variant of the chorale figure of the second movement, and that the composer
punctuates this theme with echoes of the four-note motif of the opening. The central episode, or
“trio” section, brings a fugato treatment of a tune also derived from the preceding movement’s
chorale theme.
If the rough fugal counterpoint of this trio recalls the scherzo of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, that
connection becomes even stronger in the passage that leads from the scherzo to the finale. As in
Beethoven’s famous symphony, the music descends into a realm of quiet and near stillness, then
emerges triumphantly in a blaze of sonic energy. The main event of the finale is a march in which
Vaughan Williams has embedded reminiscences of both the first movement’s four-note motto and
the rising chorale comprised of several melodic ideas. Later, the composer interpolates a serene
interlude whose demeanor again recalls the first movement’s coda. The finale concludes with an
epilogue based principally on the now familiar four-note motto, but which also includes references
to other melodic ideas heard earlier in the piece. Vaughan Williams’ counterpoint here is no
academic exercise but a wild pile-up of different thematic figures, culminating with a recollection
of the symphony’s very first moments.
Performers
Robert Gutter is currently Director of Orchestral Activities at the
University of North Carolina at Greensboro and also serves as Music
Director of the Philharmonia of Greensboro. In 1996 he received an
appointment as Principal Guest Conductor of the National Symphony
Orchestra of the Ukraine in Kiev. He is founder and artistic director for
the International Institute for Conductors which has had workshops in
Kiev,Catania, and most recently in Bacau, Romania. In his 35 years
as a professional conductor he has devoted himself to both
professional and non-professional orchestras in over twenty five
countries and in the major cities of New York, Washington D.C., Paris,
London, Vienna, Milano,Firenze, Stuttgart, and St. Petersburg. In
addition to his symphonic engagements, he has appeared with opera
companies both in the United States and in Europe. Prior to accepting
his orchestral posts in North Carolina in 1988, he served as Music Director and Conductor of the
Springfield, Massachusetts Symphony. In 1986 he was named "Conductor Emeritus" of that
orchestra. As an instrumentalist, Gutter served as principal trombonist with the Washington
National Symphony. He holds the bachelor and Master degrees from Yale University.
UNCG Symphony Orchestra
Violin I
Wayne Reich, Concertmaster
Julianne Odahowski
Allison Willet
Gretchen Heller
Andrew Liggitt
Emily Rudder
Laura Doyle
Megan Morris
Lisa Gattuso
Jessica Chi
Elizabeth Cansler
Young Cho
Kimberly Jennings
Violin II
Will Selle, Principal
Michael Cummings
Jared Matthews
Seung Hee Kwon
Ryan Schwarz
Tricia Person
Shelly Blalock
Kristin Bailes
Casey Ogle
Annalisa Chang
Brittany Ellis
Christi Alisca
Kristen Walton
Viola
John Ward, Principal
Christen Blanton
Joseph Driggars
Laura Andersen
Amber Autry
Caitie Leming
Brad Abromaitis
Anne Marie Wittmann
Chrissy Fuchs
Alex Beard
Patrick Parker
Laurie Rominger
Cello
Gina Pezzoli, Principal
Anne Berry
Michael Way
Kendall Ramseur
Michelle Keown
Kevin Lowery
Rebecca Wade
Sarah Dorsey
Harp
Clarke Carriker
Percussion
Dave Fox, Principal
Tim Heath
James Houghton
Matt Wattlington
Bass
Di Wang, Principal
Stella Heine
Kit Polen
Ryan Mack
Stephen Jackson
Stuart McLemore
Flute
Allison Flores, Co-Principal
Laura Pritchett, Co-Principal
LaTika Douthit, Co-Principal
Piccolo
Laura Pritchett
Oboe
Thomas Pappas, Principal
Jesse Anderson
English Horn
Cheshire Moon
Clarinet
Robyn Brown, Principal
Holly Kortze
Tracy Scardino
Bass Clarinet
Robyn Brown
Bassoon
Rebecca Hammontree, Principal
Angel Garren
Chris Akins
Contra Bassoon
Chris Akins
French Horn
Kathryn Bridwell, Co-Principal
Phillip Kassel, Co-Principal
Shannon Witt, Co-Principal
Nick Lee
Trumpet
Christian McIvor, Principal
Michael Scheitzelt
James Dickens
Trombone
Paul Palm, Co-Principal
Brandon Slocumb
Caleb Smith
Andrew Creech
Tuba
Brad Slusarczyk
Personnel Manager
LaTannia Ellerbe
