By Kathryn Olsen
This weekend found the Utah Symphony officially ushering in its 2018-19 season at Salt Lake City’s Maurice Abravanel Hall with a new work by Composer-in-Association Andrew Norman and Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in d minor. The season began with the audience standing and contributing their voices to the national anthem and the excitement didn’t fade for the rest of the night. The Norman piece, a world premiere entitled Suspend: a fantasy for piano and orchestra, takes the audience on an emotional exploration of an internal struggle. It was commissioned with a three-note theme from Brahms, which represents “Free, but lonely.” As the composer says in his opening remarks, the artist at the piano begins in solitude, crafts a lavish and fantastical world, and then finds that world evaporating so he is once again left as he is. This may not seem to be a natural pairing with Beethoven’s most celebrated orchestral work, but the ties between the two are well-established by the skills of conductor Thierry Fischer. The 9th symphony, which debuted in 1824, invented the “choral symphony” that composers ranging from Hector Berlioz to Gustav Mahler have adopted in the nearly two centuries since. For the first time in history, a composer added soloists and a chorus to the four-movement symphony and set the music to words by Friedrich Schiller. Audiences who have never heard the full symphony may still recognize “Joyful, Joyful” from a hymnbook or an old video store ad that sang “MOVIES! MOVIES! WE LOVE MOVIES!” to the main theme. My mother, who is largely to credit for my classical music obsession, says that she once woke me to watch Zubin Metah conduct it on TV. I remember it as the work that came in at spot #1 every year on the annual Top 40 Classical Countdown produced by Boston’s WCRB radio station. I have the score at home, have the German text memorized, and know at which points in the symphony I cry every time, so I always look forward to a concert that features the “Ode to Joy.”
As someone fixated on the latter half of the program, I was mildly interested in the new composition. Suspend is a 20-minute piano concerto that ranges from tentative, isolated notes and occasional “false starts” to music that would be appropriate to an epic quest. It calls to mind John Cage’s 4’33”, a piece in which not a single note is played in order for the audience to experience the environment in the absence of sound. For a couple of minutes, soloist Jason Hardink sits at the piano without touching a key and the audience becomes very aware that the performance includes their post-nasal drip and dropped programs. When the pianist begins the solo work, he conveys a feeling of improvisation and carries us through the creative process. The title seems to refer both to the suspension of disbelief that allows a person to consider the wondrous elements and the suspension of ordinary life, so that the population of the audience is part of what the artist is influenced by in bringing forth the melody. By the time the sweeping melodies died away, the audience in Friday night’s performance had kept a tighter hold on their programs and sniffed less frequently. I had noticed the woman next to me breathing rapidly at the beginning, but we were breathing in unison as the last notes faded. One audience member said that it took her to a very Zen place and she would have enjoyed it less if she had opened her eyes, while two computer experts behind me appreciated the almost tentative entrances of the rest of the orchestra at the beginning and end. As a creative person myself, I felt a profound connection to the storytelling in the music.
You may be wondering at this point how I will be connecting this to one of the most acclaimed pieces of all time. As a teenager, I attended an arts night in which a musician discussed the 9th symphony. After reviewing the themes of the first three movements, the teacher for the evening played the opening minutes of the fourth movement. In it, the bassists unexpectedly take charge of the work. While no words are included in this section, they seem to demand that the orchestra decide on what motif will define the rest of the symphony. Excerpts from each of the previous movements are played by the orchestra and melodically rejected before the woodwinds elaborate on a phrase from the opening movement and the bass section approves. They then begin playing the understated and simple theme that builds into variations, chorales, fugues, and dazzling solos. In hearing Norman’s Suspend, I felt that the journey he takes us on similarly grows from experimentation to magnificence.
I have been watching Fischer conduct this piece on occasion since 2011, when the Utah Symphony performed all of Beethoven’s symphonies in reverse order. He spoke then of having worked personally on new bowings and phrasings for the works to fit his artistic vision and the personal investment in this season opener is the increased emphasis on the role of the bass part so that they are a foundational and integral part of the tone and when they emerge as the true inspiration for the choral movement, it is no surprise to the attentive listener.
The chorus for this particular set of concerts is provided by the Utah Symphony Chorus, the University of Utah Chamber Choir, and the University of Utah A Capella Choir. They are well-trained and provide a commanding force on-stage under the direction of seasoned choral director Barlow Bradford.
The four soloists are outstanding. After the orchestra has transitioned from the brilliant elaborations on the theme to the same dramatic uncertainty of the opening measures, Bass-baritone Patrick Carfizzi halts the regression in its tracks by boldly commanding “Oh friends, not these sounds! Let us instead strike up more pleasing and more joyful ones!” It takes the voice of a seasoned commander to change the course of a movement and Carfizzi proves himself equal to the task. By his persuasion, the chorus soon agrees that “All men become brothers where your soft wings hover” and remarks on the many different people who can be united by rejoicing.
Isachah Savage takes on the tenor’s solo passage with clarity of sound and confidence in the cheerful march that urges “brothers, run your race, joyful like a hero going to conquest.” It is a passage that calls to mind a motivational speaker rather than a commander-in-chief and his sparkling repartee with the men of the chorus spur the orchestra on into a fugue that culminates in the chorus’ reaffirmation that joy is a shining spark of divinity.
There are no similar solo passages for soprano Joelle Harvey or Mezzo-soprano Kirstin Chavez, but while the male soloists command attention or call to action, their exquisite harmonies blend together and form the heart of the piece. Harvey and Chavez remind us in mellower tones that “Just and unjust taste of [joy’s] gift” and their voices carry the closing reiteration that joy’s “magic binds again what convention strictly divides.”
In the spirit of Schiller’s exhortation to “be embraced, ye millions, with a kiss for all the world,” I urge anyone in need of the world’s most famous pep talk to listen to this new-found work of creative genius and Beethoven’s enduring symphonic masterpiece. It is suitable for all audiences and an experience not to be missed.
Utah Symphony Presents Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”. Lyrics by Friedrich Schiller. Music by Andrew Norman and Ludwig van Beethoven.
Maurice Abravanel Hall, 123 W South Temple Salt Lake City, UT 85101
September 21-22, 2018 7:30 PM
Tickets: $28-102
Contact: 801-533-6683
Utah Symphony Facebook Page
Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” Facebook Event
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