Nuevo de Music City
No Es Danza Macabra, Es Ballet Con Identidad
(English Version here)
Cuán afortunados son aquellos en quienes sus recuerdos se revelan con nitidez y movimiento. Aún más afortunado es el que es capaz de replicarlos para que permanezcan en la memoria colectiva. Mi maestro de guitarra me decía “Si lograste ver dos ligeras bailarinas danzar, mi interpretación habrá cumplido su propósito.” Ese mismo propósito que inspira los trazos de un artista y los versos del compositor. Ese deseo ambicioso de hacer palpable la imaginación. Y esas bailarinas no son solo un espectro de su creador; su danza es recíproca y transforma la materialidad en movimiento. Los pasos convierten la retórica en un objeto tridimensional, más sin embargo, el espectador conserva la autonomía en su interpretación. En ese instante la remembranza cumple un ciclo impregnando la escena con la historia de cada individuo. Tras bambalinas, sobre el escenario y en las butacas, se ha bordado un tapiz en homenaje a la memoria. Lúcido y lleno de flores como los trajes chiapanecos.
Desde los prolijos arabescos de las máscaras hasta el sentido altar como centro de la escenografía, Día De Los Muertos es un montaje que se destaca por el cuidado de los detalles. La esencia de esta tradición narrada a través de la inspiración artística de Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Carlos Chávez y Lola Álvarez Bravo inicia como un gran acierto en la creación del guion. La incorporación de elementos folklóricos como los mariachis y los alebrijes junto con las figuras místicas de La Catrina y La Bruja, le dieron un toque mágico a la historia. Maria Konrad y el equipo artístico y de producción honraron con elegancia y emotividad la cultura mexicana.
Se me escaparán muchos elementos, así que ya pueden hacerse una idea de la abundancia creativa en este show. Comenzaré por La Catrina al ser uno de los ejes principales no solo en el montaje sino en su significado para la tradición mexicana. Si bien este personaje está inspirado en la versión de Diego Rivera en su célebre obra “Sueño de una Tarde Dominical en la Alameda Central”, la figura se basa en La Calavera Garbancera del también artista mexicano José Guadalupe Posada. La ilustración es una crítica a los indígenas vendedores de garbanzo que menospreciaban sus orígenes y aparentaban una posición social superior. “En los huesos, pero con sombrero francés con plumas de avestruz” la describió Posada. En la obra de Rivera, el personaje aparece de cuerpo completo con un traje acorde al característico sombrero, pero con detalles mesoamericanos como la bufanda en forma de Quetzalcóatl (serpiente emplumada). Rivera le da un lugar especial entre las 150 figuras que se incluyeron en esta obra magna. La Catrina, como el artista la renombró, representa a cada ser humano que, despojado de su apariencia, comparte con sus semejantes la misma estructura y el mismo final.
Entre los diferentes estilos de danza que se incluyeron en el montaje, La Catrina tomó ventaja de la técnica de punta del ballet clásico para representar su naturaleza estilizada. Además de eso, sus pasos eran lo suficientemente sonoros para reforzar la cualidad “idiofónica” de sus huesos. El personaje aparece estampado en un lienzo durante el proceso de su creación en lo que podría imaginarse como el estudio de Rivera. Allí el pintor comparte su pasión artística con Frida Kahlo mientras da unas últimas pinceladas hasta convertir la figura en una bailarina que se une con sus movimientos al romanticismo de la escena.
El traje de Frida Kahlo estuvo también inspirado en una pieza de arte, su autorretrato “La columna rota”. Esta pintura representa la fortaleza de su cuerpo y de su alma al mantenerse en pie a pesar de haber sufrido un accidente prácticamente mortal. Las flores bordadas en su falda fueron replicadas en el traje de Rivera reforzando el vínculo de la pareja. La interacción de sus movimientos era cómplice y prolongada, fluyendo en perfecta armonía. En las siguientes escenas se une el compositor Carlos Chávez con un aire de feria, movimientos torpes y zafados que me recordaron al reconocido actor de comedia Cantinflas. La fotógrafa Lola Álvarez Bravo, en contraposición, es ligera, flexible y llena cada espacio del escenario mientras obtiene las mejores capturas con su cámara. A esta celebración de la vida y de la amistad entre los artistas, se une el grupo de mariachis y las bailarinas folklóricas. Los pasos son una mixtura de jarabe tapatío y danza moderna.
La selección musical de este ballet es otro gran acierto; incorpora la música tradicional y mariachi con lapsos de electrónica. El paisaje sonoro se torna también cinematográfico con las propuestas modernas de Gustavo Santaolalla y el dueto de guitarristas Rodrigo y Gabriela. El plano terrenal parece ser lo suficientemente fantástico, sin embargo, el altar en la escenografía actúa como el portal que nos guiará hacia el mundo de la eternidad. Encontré muy hermosa la sección en la que los bailarines representan cada uno de los gustos de la persona que se está honrando. Uno de ellos ejecuta hábiles ‘toques’ con el balón de fútbol para luego sumarlo a las ofrendas del altar. Entre estos objetos se encuentran también los ‘alebrijes’, guardianes espirituales de naturaleza zoomorfa cuyo propósito es el de guiar la travesía del alma. Estos seres mágicos se transforman en bailarines de colores y personalidades diversas, representando las cualidades que hacen único e irrepetible a cada mortal.
En unión con la celebración del Día de Los Muertos y la música se engendra el último personaje del elenco, La Bruja. La canción en son popular jarocho y que lleva el mismo nombre, se ha convertido en el himno de esta fiesta popular. La letra se inspira en la leyenda de una seductora mujer que preserva su corporeidad bebiendo sangre de niños y de adultos. El clímax del ballet se consolida en esta escena donde cada uno de los personajes interactúa con La Bruja y la subjetividad de la muerte. La escenografía se torna oscura y las faldas tradicionales emanan luces de colores consiguiendo un efecto supremo con los movimientos de la danza. El traje de La Bruja se enciende también, y cuando la bailarina extiende el amplio tamaño de la falda se revela un brillante cúmulo de estrellas. Este momento de fantasía y emotividad captura ingeniosamente la noche del primero de noviembre en el que las calles se revisten de candelas.
El montaje concluye con un racimo de voces superpuestas que mencionan los nombres y el vínculo con aquellos seres que permanecen en la memoria de cada persona. Los bailarines van dando fin a sus movimientos mientras se ubican en una especie de retrato que evoca nuevamente la obra muralista de Diego Rivera. Este cuadro final no se compone solamente por los artistas en escena, sino por artesanos, músicos, diseñadores y técnicos de una creatividad insaciable y un compromiso con el arte, la cultura y la remembranza humana como esencia de nuestra existencia.
From Nashville Ballet
Not a Dance Macabre, But a Ballet with Identity
(Versión en español aquí)
How fortunate are those whose memories reveal themselves with clarity and movement. Even more fortunate is the one capable of replicating them so they may endure in collective memory. My guitar teacher used to tell me, “If you managed to see two delicate dancers twirl, my performance would have fulfilled its purpose.” That same purpose inspires an artist’s strokes and a composer’s verses—that ambitious desire to make imagination tangible.
And those dancers are not just a specter of their creator; their dance is reciprocal and transforms materiality into movement. Each step shapes rhetoric into a three-dimensional object, yet the audience retains autonomy in their interpretation. In that instant, remembrance completes a cycle, impregnating the scene with each individual’s history. Behind the scenes, onstage, and in the seats, a tapestry has been woven in tribute to memory—vivid and adorned with flowers, like the traditional chiapaneco attire.
From the intricate arabesques of the masks to the heartfelt altar at the center of the set, Día De Los Muertos is a production that stands out for its attention to detail. The essence of this tradition, narrated through the artistic inspiration of Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Carlos Chávez, and Lola Álvarez Bravo, begins as a great success in script creation. Including folkloric elements like mariachis and alebrijes, along with the mystical figures of La Catrina and La Bruja, added a magical touch to the story. Maria Konrad and the artistic and production team elegantly and emotionally honored Mexican culture.
I may miss many elements, but you can already imagine the creative abundance in this show. I’ll start with La Catrina, as she is one of the main axes, not only in the production but also in her significance for Mexican culture. Although this character is inspired by Diego Rivera’s rendition in his renowned work “Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central,” the figure itself is based on “La Calavera Garbancera” by Mexican artist José Guadalupe Posada. The illustration is a critique of Indigenous chickpea vendors who dismissed their heritage and pretended to have a higher social status. “Down to the bones, but with a French hat adorned with ostrich feathers,” Posada described it. In Rivera’s work, the character appears full-bodied with a suit matching the characteristic hat but with Mesoamerican details like the Quetzalcoatl (feathered serpent) scarf. Rivera gave her a special place among the 150 figures included in this masterpiece. La Catrina, as the artist renamed her, represents every human being who, stripped of their appearance, shares the same structure and the same end with their fellow beings.
Among the different dance styles included in the production, La Catrina took advantage of the classical ballet pointe technique to represent her stylized nature. Moreover, her steps were resonant enough to enhance the “idiophonic” quality of her bones. The character appears painted on a canvas during her creation process in what could be imagined as Rivera’s studio. There, the painter shares his artistic passion with Frida Kahlo while adding the final strokes until the figure transforms into a dancer, joining her movements to the romanticism of the scene.
Frida Kahlo’s costume was also inspired by a piece of art—her self-portrait “The Broken Column.” This painting represents the strength of her body and soul, standing resilient despite having endured a near-fatal accident. The embroidered flowers on her skirt were replicated on Rivera’s costume, reinforcing the couple’s bond. Their movements were complicit and prolonged, flowing in perfect harmony. In the following scenes, composer Carlos Chávez joins with a carnival air, clumsy and awkward movements that reminded me of the renowned comedian Cantinflas. In contrast, photographer Lola Álvarez Bravo is light, flexible, and fills every space on the stage while capturing the best shots with her camera. To this celebration of life and friendship among artists, the mariachi group and folk dancers join. The performance is a mixture of jarabe tapatío and modern dance.
The musical selection for this ballet is another triumph; it merges traditional and mariachi music with electronic interludes. The soundscape also becomes cinematic with the modern contributions from Gustavo Santaolalla and guitar duo Rodrigo y Gabriela. The earthly realm seems fantastic enough; however, the altar in the set acts as a portal leading us to the world of eternity. I found the section particularly beautiful where the dancers represent each honoree’s preferences. One dancer skillfully dribbles a soccer ball before adding it to the altar’s offerings. Among these items are also the alebrijes, spiritual guides of zoomorphic nature whose purpose is to guide the soul’s journey. These magical beings transform into dancers of various colors and personalities, representing the qualities that make each mortal unique and unrepeatable.
In unity with the celebration of Día de Los Muertos and the music, the final cast member, La Bruja, emerges. The song of the same name, a popular son jarocho, has become the anthem of this popular festival. The lyrics are inspired by the legend of a seductive woman who preserves her corporeal form by drinking the blood of children and adults. The ballet’s climax is consolidated in this scene, where each character interacts with La Bruja and the subjectivity of death. The set darkens, and the traditional skirts emit colored lights, achieving a supreme effect with their dance movements. La Bruja’s costume also lights up, and a brilliant cluster of stars is revealed when the dancer extends her wide skirt. This moment of fantasy and emotion ingeniously captures the night of November 1st, when the streets are lined with candles.
The production concludes with a blend of overlapping voices, mentioning the names and ties of those who live on in each person’s memory. The dancers finish their movements, positioning themselves in a sort of portrait that once again evokes Diego Rivera’s muralist work. This final tableau comprises not only the artists on stage but artisans, musicians, designers, and technicians—all with an insatiable creativity and commitment to art, culture, and human remembrance as the essence of our existence.
Over at Vanderbilt:
The Attacca Quartet on the Quantum Potential
This past week I was honored to be invited to the latest recording of Vanderbilt University’s podcast, Quantum Potential. For this session they hosted the two-time Grammy award winning chamber group
Attacca Quartet, who were visiting to perform with Blair School of Music Professor of Percussion Ji Hye Jung’s organization Chamber Music City. It was a very unique setting for a performance but was quite fun to witness. Simply a studio room full of colleagues, other staff at Vanderbilt, and a whole camera crew to record it all. They only played two of the four pieces featured on their concert the following night and spent a great deal of time conversing with the master of ceremonies and each other.
The performance opened with a quick welcome to the studio audience and the viewers of the podcast and then jumped right into playing Andy Akiho’s 2019 composition, Aluminous. A piece featuring a traditional string quartet and a vibraphone. A piece all about the metal aluminum, Ji Hye Jung talked about how the piece captures the cold, sharp and rigid aspects of metals in general. Yet as the piece progresses it dissolves into warmer tones representing that aluminum is actually one of the softest metals on the periodic table. The beginning combines pizzicato strings with wooden sticks, resembling large chopsticks, on the vibraphone to create the aforementioned angular, sharp and cold attributes associated with aluminum. The vibraphone featured a fast and driving motor using the sticks that helped keep time and maintained heavy momentum. The pizzicato was occasionally interrupted by short arco passages. Eventually Ji Hye Jung picked up traditional mallets and the strings dropped the pizzicato completely creating the warm middle section that illuminates the other aspects of aluminum as an element. It is a very nice change from the opening sections of the piece showcasing the unique timbres and tones that can be produced by string quartet and vibraphone. Aluminous then returns to a similar style as the beginning featuring the wooden sticks and the metric motor in the vibes. The piece continues to ramp up in tempo and volume until concluding with a sudden ending featuring the use of a bow on the vibes.
Following the performance of Aluminous there was a discussion about the piece itself where Ji Hye Jung broke down the elements of the piece that reflected aluminum. They also had a brief discussion about the history of the quartet. They’ve been performing for over 20 years and reflected on how their relationships, and playing has changed over that time. The cellist Andrew Yee said that they began playing older, more traditional classical pieces which they then said was fun to think about how that was a job hundreds of years ago and they’re continuing that tradition. This conversation segwayed perfectly into their next and final selection for this podcast, the first movement of Ravel’s only String Quartet.
A piece a part of Ravel’s continuous pursuit of the Prix de Rome, the most prestigious compositional award in France for over a century and a half. Ravel, however, never ended up winning it but nevertheless audiences were graced with several pristine works. The piece’s structure was based on Debussy’s string quartet but the music was drastically different. The first and only movement they performed is in a typical sonata form with two very contrasting themes. It opens with the primary theme in the first violin along with a long arching scalar background motive in the other voices. The sound felt like it was melting together and as the warm tones formed something new from the combined sound. The secondary theme features the first violin and the part doubled two octaves lower in the viola. The theme continues the arched melodic motion in the first theme, but the arches are much shorter and feel like embellishments on the first pitch of each phrase. While this is happening the second violin is outlining harmonies with tremolos and arpeggios and the cello is giving short interjections occasionally and quietly. The development is pretty straightforward and standard, it gains intensity and gets a little wild as the recapitulation is approached. The second theme is slightly altered in its return but the upper voices remain the same as the exposition but the cello was raised a minor third moving the movement from F major to D minor. The intensity slowly lessens and the movement ends quietly.
Second violinist Dominic Salerni was asked to speak on this piece giving some history and some compositional elements. He claimed the piece was ultimately based on clocks and that it was modularly put together perfectly and may even be played backwards and remain great. He compared it to Salvador Dali’s famous painting “The Persistence of Memory” that includes clocks melting into the landscape very similar to the strings melting together to create this beautiful movement. First violinist Amy Schroeder commented that this piece holds a very important meaning to all of the members of the quartet, that they all had encountered the piece before forming Attacca and it directed them all in the direction that they took to get to where they are now. They once again took the idea of the melting clocks and compared it to how when they perform together it becomes much more than simply playing their instruments. That, in a metaphysical sense, they pour the very essence of their souls in a “orb” that is the perceived performance of any piece. This group effort and awareness has elevated their music tremendously.
Overall, the concert was a very unique and extremely enjoyable experience. I am very honored that I got to be a part of this recording and able to share this experience with other likeminded individuals. If you have the chance please watch the podcast when it releases, you will not be disappointed. I want to thank Jad Abumrad, Professor Ji Hye Jung, and Chamber Music City for inviting me and putting together such a wonderful program and directive.
From Our Far-flung Correspondents Series:
Jubilee the Opera
Jubilee the Opera tells the rich history and story of the original Fisk Jubilee Singers. From the conception of the group to their tours across the globe to save their institution from financial ruin, the opera shows the viewer how black students from Nashville, Tennessee, triumphed through trials and tribulations, during the era of reconstruction.
There was a minimalist approach to staging and costumes. This approach not only allows the viewer to focus on the story, but it also foreshadows that their greatest possessions were not materials. Rather it was their relationship to their beautiful melodies. Tazewell Thompson, the director, did a wonderful job intertwining the concert spiritual into the storyline of the opera.
Technically, this body of work was presented like in opera. However, there were moments where it felt as if I was watching a musical. The role of Ella Sheppard, which was portrayed beautifully by Lisa Arrindell, also plays a southern white women, Queen Victoria, and George L. White. As these characters are introduced in the story they are speaking, and the ensemble is reacting. (See interview here) Historically, in opera if the librettist wants to bring out words they use recitatives. Understanding the backgrounds of Tazewell Thompson and Lisa Arrindell, I believe that for this body of work, they made the correct stylistic choice.
It was rather refreshing to see how the humanity of each individual was portrayed. Tazewell Thompson developed the plot of the story by introducing a love affair between two of the singers. While it did intensify the drama of the story line, it seemed misplaced due to a lack of a resolution. Understanding Ella Sheppard’s role with the ensemble, I wish I would have since her developed more. Taze did a wonderful a portraying her as a mother figure and educator, however there were time in which she accompanied the group on piano.
In telling the story of the original Fisk Jubilee Singers, Tazewell Thompson and the entire cast did a wonderful job of introducing the world to one of Nashville’s gems. This body of work is imperative in the rejuvenation and continuation of canon of concert spirituals.
From the Circle Players
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf
Ntozake Shange’s acclaimed 1976 choreopoem For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf opened Circle Players’ 75th season. Middle Tennessee’s oldest non-profit community theatre group is committed to inclusivity and voicing underrepresented stories.
I attended the October 11th showing, and Tosha Marie, the president of the Board of Directors for Circle Players (as well as producer, choreographer & costume designer of the play) welcomed the audience at the entrance of the theater with a tissue box, hinting at the tear-jerker nature of the play. In an extensive, carefully put together 16-page program that the audience could gain access to via a QR code, she writes:
“This season, we aim to create a space for dialogue and reflection, inviting you to join us in this important work. As we celebrate 75 years of storytelling, we are grateful for your support and engagement. Together, we can create a vibrant theater community that honors our past while looking forward to a more inclusive future.” 
Ntozake Shange’s very personal tale For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf resonated with one of Nashville’s most acclaimed and brave theater directors, Cynthia Harris, who “continuously creates and performs works that capture the experiences of Black women and girls. Her preferred format is the choreopoem, which she views as a culturally specific form of performance and audience engagement, based on the work of Ntozake Shange, to authentically express the personal and social experience of Black women.”
For this staging, Harris got her inspiration and directorial vision from her childhood memories of her mother and her four aunts sitting around the kitchen table in the late 60s while lending eyes, ears, strength, and wisdom to each other’s struggles. According to Harris, this experience can and should expand beyond blood sisters, into what she calls “sister-friends.” Thus the director not only inherits Shange’s artistic expression through her preferred format of choreopoem, but also the feminist philosophy and approach to life. Interestingly enough, Harris does not borrow the dance aspect, one of the main elements of Shange’s choreopoem, although she endorses the poetic monologues and music. This absence can be read as the director’s darker vision of the condition of black and brown women: united in their voices but not fully liberated through their individual bodily freedoms of expression.
In an Airbnb stage setting (designed by Henry Jones), the walls of which are filled with portraits of powerful and resilient black women, Harris creates a rainbow of “7 sisters reuniting in response to intimate partner violence. Their stories are shared as if they were medicine to each other, helping them to heal together through bringing up their unconditional love and support for each other. These women serve as sacred witnesses to each other’s healing and transformation.”
The story of the play consists of women, sisters, and sister-friends who, beginning with the youngest one, feel safe to open up and connect on a natural and supernatural level. They transcend through the experiences of mythical heroines and goddesses, all having one thing in common: the beauty and burden of womanhood, the ill treatment, despotism and exploitation that still reigns in a society rendering her as an unequal member. Thus, through any layer of discrimination on the basis of identity politics, it was very easy to feel empathy with the stories that were being unfolded on stage.
In terms of mise-en-scène, every corner of the stage was fully utilized. When one of the women shared her story, the others were attentively listening, surrounding her from various angles. There were also beautiful moments of gathering in smaller groups to converge and connect. Although the performance didn’t directly invite this, the audience was often communicating their empathy, encouragement, and dismay directly, which created a warm homey atmosphere.
Among the actresses, Kristian Hardy as Green especially stood out for her stoic presence in silence, often listening to the other’s stories with full attention. For her last fragment, Nina Hibbler-Webster as Rea took everyone’s breath away.
One major hiccup that was a distraction and worked rather against the other elements of the staging was the bad wireless microphone connection which almost sporadically switched between the actresses’ natural and amplified voices. The small theater setting would have functioned without microphones just as well, elevating the intimacy between the performers and the audience.
During the post premiere talk, in the presence of the seven actresses, Harris spoke of the audition, the rehearsals and of giving space to them to both find their inner voices and connection with their characters, as well as to form a bond with their sister-friends to grow in harmony while embracing their diversities in appearance, style, approaches to life and challenges they face.
By the edge of the blade, both the choreopoem and the staging carried the danger of villainizing all men, particularly the black cis men, until the last monologue where the brutal actions of the perpetrator became related to his loss of sensitivity and the trauma from serving in the army and experiencing the brutality of war, thus raising the issue to a bigger picture, that of the systemic instrumentalization and oppression.
Overall, the performance grew in me as it unfolded the layers of these seven unique women, representing a rainbow, a grain of hope, an aspiration to dream for a better future, only if in that dream we are all equal, while unique and understanding the importance of coexisting as a way of fulfilling one another.
This production’s run is over, but Circle Players’ 75th season continues with And the World Goes Round in the winter. For more information, see Circle Players.
At the Schermerhorn
NSO’s One Program in Three Mediums – Opera, Orchestra, and Ballet
The Nashville Symphony and Maestro Giancarlo Guerrero took audiences to the opera house, the concert hall, and even the ballet with the program presented October 17-19. Featuring the artistry of violin soloist Gil Shaham, this program was situated between a performance the previous weekend of Antonio Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 8, nos. 1-4 and Gloria, R. 589, and a special event accompanying the Tower of Power this upcoming week. Such variety of programming and regular performances are two of the many strengths that have come to be expected of this organization.
Composed in 1869, the Overture to La forze del destino has cemented itself as a favorite from the pit of opera houses and on stage in concert halls alike. The libretto depicts the consequences of an ill-fated love story, or, in other words, a typical Nineteenth Century opera. A respectfully full house welcomed both Concertmaster Peter Otto and Music Director Guerrero to the stage, after which the opening chords from Giuseppe Verdi’s score quickly sounded.
Perhaps more caffeinated than some interpretations, Guerrero propelled the three opening chords from an impeccably balanced brass and bassoon sections twice, not allowing the first iteration to completely dissipate throughout Laura Turner Concert Hall before inviting the music to continue. Chandler Currier, the new principal tubist and a Middle Tennessee native, is to be credited for playing a cimbasso for this opening piece. With a forward-facing bell and predominantly cylindrical bore, the cimbasso creates a bass sound that can blend with the trombone section even better than can the tuba. Historically, this instrument was commonly used to perform late Romantic Italian opera, so much so that it has even been referred to as the ‘trombone basso Verdi.’
Equally impressive to the robust opening presented by the brass and bassoon sections was the Nashville Symphony’s dynamic range made available throughout Verdi’s score, particularly the softer end of the spectrum. In a society where loud and bold tends to occupy headline real estate, the Nashville Symphony’s willingness to take advantage of opportunities to offer such nuance should be both acknowledged and encouraged.
Having just performed Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61 last season, violin soloist Gil Shaham is becoming a perennial highlight for Nashville Symphony audiences. After an extended tuning session backstage, Shaham accepted applause with a humbled grace that seemed to have won him the favor of both members of the Nashville Symphony and its audience – all realities that occurred last season, too. This program featured Mason Bates’ Nomad Concerto, with the added feature of a live recording project expected to be commercially released upon completion.
Along with the Philadelphia Orchestra and San Diego Symphony, the Nashville Symphony is a consortium partner that helped initiate the creation of this work. Receiving its premiere performance with Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra in January 2024, this piece is the second violin concerto composed by Mason Bates, who offers the following program note:
Nomad Concerto explores the mysterious and soulful music of the wanderer.
Envisioned to showcase the legendary Old World sound of Gil Shaham, the concerto is informed by a diverse range of traveling cultures from Eastern Europe to the Middle East. In the same way that nomadic musics have continually reimagined themselves, the many styles informing the concerto are swirled together into a unique soundworld.
The concerto’s opening movement imagines an old balloon seller wandering through a village as he sings a doleful tune, which is gradually picked up by the villagers. The music draws from a variety of elements of the European Roma, with the soloist sometimes using a strumming pizzicato effect suggestive of mandolin. The movement is followed by the short, scherzo-like ‘magician at the bazaar’ showcasing quicksilver violin figuration that the orchestra transforms into shimmering and gossamer textures.
Over haunting orchestral expanses depicting the vast deserts of the Middle East, the Jewish folk tune “Ani Ma’amin” unfolds in “Desert vision: oasis.” The movement’s heaviness temporarily brightens at the vision of a sparkling oasis. A propulsive finale is animated by the ‘minor swing’ of 1930s jazz clubs, as epitomized by the legendary Django Reinhardt of the ‘manouche’ clan.
Bates has completed residencies with leading orchestral institutions throughout the United State of America – the San Francisco Symphony, National Symphony, and the Chicago Symphony, among others – as well as spinning numerous sets as a dj. All of these influences have been filtered through the composer’s perspective to create a work that, at times, presents quite cinematically, on occasion offers a hip and urban vibe, while still at other times depicts a pastoral expansiveness that calms. Shaham is called to use various string techniques, including a glassy ponticello bowing, as well as bowing while simultaneously using pizzicato with his non-bow hand. Bates’ Nomad Concerto is an intriguing composition that was executed convincingly by both soloist and orchestra. Mason Bates was welcomed to the stage to receive multiple rounds of well-earned applause, before joining the audience to experience the second half of the concert.
After intermission, Igor Stravinsky’s original 1909-1910 full ballet score for The Firebird completed the program. Lasting about fifty minutes, it is more common for the twenty-two minute Suite from The Firebird to be programmed instead. Offering the entire score affords one the opportunity to hear gestures evolve and the drama they depict to develop and subside. However, without the dance component, sections of the music felt stagnate and unnecessary for the concert hall alone. Furthermore, if dancers were involved, Maestro Guerrero forced tempi that, on occasion, felt frantic and presumably an unfit challenge for choreography.
Regardless, this assumed ‘pet project’ was well received and impeccably performed. Despite many key players of the ensemble executing solo passages with such spirit, or soul as the situation aligned, members of the Nashville Symphony stood together without any individual bows initiated from the podium. Special congratulations should have gone to the woodwind block of the orchestra who brilliantly gave flight to the Firebird, and to principal bassoonist, Julia Harguindey, who offered a “Lullaby” that mesmerized.
Nashville Symphony President and CEO, Alan D. Valentine, needs credit for establishing a culture that welcomes patrons in suits and jeans all the same. Art is often a reflection or a reaction to the context in which it was created. Even without serious study of the medium, music’s power is universal, being felt by academics and amateurs. Nashvillians are urged to open themselves to experience live classical music by an ensemble that has removed many of the barriers once thought to pretentiously protect this magic. Giancarlo Guerrero has built your Nashville Symphony with an artistic prowess that doesn’t need an oceanic coast to prove worthy of receiving accolade or your attention. If you are not patroning the Schermerhorn Symphony Center you are missing out!
Our Town Coming to Our Nashville
Nashville Repertory Theatre is bringing Our Town to Nashville, a classic American play and winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. It follows the lives of two young neighbors, George Gibbs and Emily Webb, as their childhood friendship blossoms into romance and culminates in marriage. Not your standard play, Our Town is set in the theater itself and is guided by an amiable stage manager who interacts with the audience. The play explores everyday moments that reveal universal truths about love, family, and community. Our Town reminds us of the beauty in ordinary life, evoking a sense of wonder through our shared humanity.
Our Town will be at TPAC’s Johnson Theater October 25-November 3. For tickets and more information, see: Our Town — Nashville Repertory Theatre.
The NPO’s ‘American Legends and Brahms’
The Nashville Philharmonic recently wrapped up their spectacular opening to the 2024-2025 season. The program, titled “American Legends and Brahms” was an excellent featuring works by Aaron Copland, Joan Tower, Jennifer Higdon and of course, Johannes Brahms. This concert was a combination of exciting well-known material and an introduction to some lesser known works by American composers. Overall, the concert was engaging, powerful and exciting to witness.
The Nashville Philharmonic Orchestra opened the concert with one of Copland’s most known pieces, Fanfare for the Common Man. Written as a part of a collection of fanfares written for the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra in 1942, the piece was named after a line from a speech delivered by the current Vice President of the time, Henry A. Wallace. Wallace said it was the dawning of “The Century of the Common Man” in his speech leading to the inspiration for Copland. This fanfare is simple, triumphant, and quite in your face at times. Composed solely for brass and percussion it was interesting to see an orchestra concert open without strings. The brass section lived up to the call and really showed off for this piece. The horns especially were loud and proud throughout. I was not expecting the orchestra to perform to this level, and it shook me in my seat.
Following the Copland selection, the orchestra played a piece by a true innovator for American composers, Joan Tower, whose work was influenced by Copland’s fanfare. Tower is a legendary figure in American composition. She was the first woman to win the prestigious Golden Baton awarded by the League of American Orchestras. They played Tower’s Sixth Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman which is the final installation in the collection of Fanfares for the Uncommon Woman. While all are directly influenced by Copland’s fanfare, the first one kept the original instrumentation with small additions in the percussion section. Originally the sixth fanfare was written for piano in 2014 but was orchestrated for a full orchestra in 2016. Tower dedicated this fanfare to Cuban American composer Tania Leon. The sixth stands as the longest of these fanfares and it was a welcome contrast to the shorter Copland fanfare. The orchestra must have loved this piece judging by the intensity by which they performed it. The almost never ceasing motor that changes voices kept the piece progressing and interesting. As one group took the motor another would play the melody or in many cases the melody would be built into the ostinato. You never knew which was going to come next, keeping the listeners engaged and working to unravel the communication between sections.
After the two fanfares we were presented with a much different piece by another modern composer, Grammy winner, and world-renowned composer, Jennifer Higdon. Blue Cathedral was commissioned as a celebration for the Curtis School of Music’s seventy-fifth anniversary. Conductor Christopher Norton talked about how this piece became something a lot more personal for Higdon as her brother, Andrew Blue Higdon, tragically passed away fighting cancer while she was working on this piece. The piece features the flute, which Higdon plays, and the clarinet, which her brother played. Throughout the piece the two instruments trade solos almost as if they are communicating with each other as Higdon and her brother did growing up. A slower and very powerful piece, the solemn music resonated through the hall as we were taken on this mournful journey. Though, as Higdon has said in interviews, the piece ended up being more cheerful than melancholy. The piece ultimately reflects Higdon working through the stages of grief while mourning the loss of her brother; the orchestra portrayed these emotions with extreme care and prestige. Several members of the audience were moved to tears, bravo!
To end the concert, the Nashville Philharmonic brought out Brahms’ First Symphony in C minor. A true masterpiece in the genre, it was composed over 20 years between1855 and 1876 and finally debuted far into Brahms career. The first movement is in the standard sonata form but what makes it unique is it has an introduction before the exposition. The introduction features the use of bizarre syncopations for the time and pizzicato strings over the timpani which is keeping the pulse. The exposition begins abruptly and brings in a new high energy theme that carries throughout the movement.
After the introduction things get a lot more Beethovenian (Brahms just turned over in his grave as I wrote this) as it continues throughout a standard symphonic form. The second movement is much slower which is to be expected, what is unexpected is it is in E major. Other than that, it remains pretty standard in a ternary form and a lyrical melody. It was very nice hearing the theme flow from bassoon to high strings to a soaring oboe. As the melody changed color between instruments so did the feeling of the movement as if there was a conversation between them similar to the Higdon piece. To end the movement the piece is restated in the Horns adding yet another tone color to the collection for this movement. The third movement is the expected dance style that became commonplace in the symphony. This one is made up of an allegretto in 2/4 and a contrasting trio in 6/8 also following a ternary form like the second movement. The only difference is the return of the A section functions more as a modified A section with lingering themes and effects from the trio.
The final movement to me was the most Beethoven of the four. It resolves leftover themes and tensions from the first movement with the transition into cut time and the presence of flaring themes in the strings. What was of note to me was the blaring strength of the bass trombone during this final movement. It was a much-needed effect that elevated this performance of the symphony from recordings I listened to before the concert. A small detail but a much appreciated one. The entire symphony was illustrious to say the least and was truly an honor to witness live.
The entire performance was far beyond anything I expected from the Nashville Philharmonic. All these musicians are top notch and perform greater than anything I wanted from a volunteer orchestra. If this is what I can expect for the rest of the season I am very excited to return for the next concerts. Everything was masterfully put together and executed on the concert and was fantastic to witness. Bravo Nashville Philharmonic Orchestra.
The NPO returns on December 15th and 17th and is currently accepting applications from composers and performers for their annual concerto and composition competition.
The MCR Interview
Nashville Ballet NB2 Director Maria Konrad on Dia de los Muertos
Angelica Trujillo conducts an interview that serves as a wonderful introduction to the new director of Nashville Ballet’s NB2 Troupe, Maria Konrad, as well as a thorough introduction to the ideas and aesthetics behind Konrad’s choreography for this world premiere of Día de los Muertos. Issues in presenting and mingling ballet, contemporary dance, folkloric dance and movement onstage are discussed. Dancer Nicole Bustamante answers a few questions on her own perspective of the work. The basic narrative of the ballet, including the primary characters, Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Carlos Chavez, and Lola Avarez Bravo. Linares’ Alebrijes, their appearance and creation (with 3d printing) for the performance are discussed. Like, Share and Subscribe!
Moulin Rouge! The Musical
Ten years ago I saw Moulin Rouge! for the first time on my friend’s laptop in our college dorm. I enjoyed the film, and when it was announced that the Broadway adaptation was making its way to TPAC, I got excited. While I didn’t remember many details of the plot, I remembered spectacle, music, and a satisfying mixture of comedy and melodrama. The Broadway show doesn’t disappoint.
For those unfamiliar with Baz Luhrmann’s film, it’s a 2001 jukebox musical set in Paris at the turn of the 20th century. The Moulin Rouge is a real cabaret (you can visit it today) and the birthplace of the can-can dance. It was in a poor district where wealthy aristocrats could play at slumming it and mix with the bohemian locals. One such local artist was the famous painter Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, who designed posters for the venue, and who features as a character in the story.
The plot is simple: Satine is a courtesan who is the star performer at the financially struggling Moulin Rouge. Christian is new to Paris and hoping to make it as an artist. He quickly falls in with Toulouse-Lautrec and they work on a musical show to pitch to Satine, hoping to get it on the stage of the cabaret. Satine is told by Zidler, the founder of the cabaret, that after her performance that night she is to entertain the Duke of Monroth in her chambers upstairs, and that the great hope is to convince the wealthy aristocrat to provide financial backing to prevent the club from going under. In a fateful miscommunication, Satine thinks that Christian is the duke, and invites him upstairs after the show. In a hilarious scene she tries to seduce him while he’s trying to pitch the musical, and as they’re getting to know each other the real duke shows up at her door. Realizing the mixup, Satine covers for Christian’s presence by pitching the musical to the real duke, and convinces him to back the show. As the story progresses, Satine has to figure out what she wants, choosing between the poor but kind Christian and the selfish Duke who stands as the stereotype of her material ambition.
The Broadway musical has surprisingly little dialogue and is crammed absolutely full of music. The medleys are almost nonstop: pages 28-30 of the program are tightly packed musical credits listing the musical quotes. The music of the film has been updated, altering some of the major moments and adding to many of the minor ones with hits like “All the Single Ladies,” “Rolling in the Deep,” “Bad Romance,” “Chandelier,” and (delightfully) “Fidelity” and “Royals.” This is only naming a few of the recent updates (which even include a Rickroll). Each possible line of dialogue is used to break into song, musical quotes continually riffing off of each other. The frenetic pop music is fun but by the end of the night I felt over-stimulated in a way that even Broadway’s Beetlejuice hadn’t left me. My experience of the music reminded me of the first 55 seconds of this clip from Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid: STEVE MARTIN MAKES COFFEE. I went through phases of being entertained, finding it too much, and being entertained again. My only real musical disappointments in the updated arrangements were that “Roxanne,” the dramatic song of angst, was adapted in a way that felt less impactful than that of the film, and that “Firework” was used for Satine to express her inner conflict; I was tired of that song back in 2010.
The film is set in a cabaret that was the epitome of fin-de-siècle European decadence, and it won an Oscar for its costume design. Not to be outdone, the Broadway adaptation won ten Tony awards, four of which are for costumes, stage, choreography, and lighting design, all of which are fantastic and attention-grabbing. The opening of the musical showcases all of this at once, as we witness the Moulin Rouge’s spectacle: massive setpieces of opulent splendor have lingerie-clad dancers performing high energy sensual movements, while the lighting uses spotlights, silhouettes, and dramatic colors to set everything off. The imagination and skill in accomplishing the intended effect is very impressive.
Moulin Rouge’s cast is somewhat uneven: some actors are surprisingly pitchy or sound like they have been cast for the wrong vocal range, but the standouts are amazing. Christian Douglas plays Christian, and his voice is fantastic: strong, clear, and always in perfect control. While his character isn’t particularly interesting, he gives the role as much personality as possible. Robert Petkoff is the reprobate Zidler, and his dramatic showmanship, heart, and humor make him the most enjoyable character to watch. AK Naderer is Nini, Satine’s friend, and one of the dancers. No matter how crowded the stage, no matter what the choreography was, she always drew our eyes.
I attended the October 9th show. TPAC’s Jackson Theater was packed with people and looked to be almost entirely sold out. Everyone around us was excited for the show and remained fully invested the entire time. They responded to all the musical quotes, laughed at all the jokes, and when a character died at the end the hall was full of sniffles and stifled tears.
The show is full of lights and colors, nonstop music and activity and dancing, and the experience is a lot of fun. I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoyed the movie and to anyone who’s never heard of it: there’s no better setting for a story about live theater than on a Broadway stage.
Moulin Rouge! will be at TPAC until October 20, before moving on to Chattanooga. For tickets and more information, see Moulin Rouge! | TPAC and for more information about the national tour, see US Tour – Home – Moulin Rouge! The Musical.
