Program Notes

Antonín Dvořák 1841-1904

Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 in E minor, Op. 95, “From the New World,” stands as a crowning achievement not only in the composer’s oeuvre but also in the history of symphonic music. Written during Dvořák’s tenure in the United States as director of the National Conservatory of Music of America, this symphony bridges continents, traditions, and musical idioms, unfolding as a musical letter to both his native Bohemia and his adopted American home. Completed in 1893, the “New World Symphony” encapsulates the spirit of discovery, longing, and cultural exchange—a musical testament to the complexities and hopes of a rapidly changing world.

In 1892, Dvořák arrived in New York City, having accepted the post of director at the National Conservatory. The composer was immediately struck by the diversity and energy of American life. At the same time, Dvořák was tasked with the challenge of helping American composers find their unique voice, distinct from European traditions. To this end, he immersed himself in the study of Native American melodies, African American spirituals, and the broad expanse of American folk music.

Dvořák’s curiosity and open-mindedness are evident throughout Symphony No. 9. Despite the subtitle “From the New World,” Dvořák did not quote American folk music verbatim. Instead, he internalized the rhythms, intervals, and spirit of these traditions, blending them with his own Czech musical heritage. The result is a work that feels at once familiar and thrillingly new.

The symphony is structured in the traditional four movements, each with its own character and narrative arc.

I. Adagio – Allegro molto

The first movement opens quietly, with a somber Adagio that hints at the grandeur to come. The Allegro molto bursts forth with an energetic theme introduced by the horns, soon joined by the full orchestra. This movement is marked by bold contrasts between lyrical passages, stirring rhythms, and orchestral brilliance. The so-called “main theme,” bold and noble, is followed by a second subject reminiscent of both Bohemian song and the spirituals Dvořák admired. The development section bristles with drama, weaving motifs together in a tapestry of tension and release, before a glorious recapitulation and triumphant coda.

II. Largo

Arguably the most beloved portion of the symphony, the Largo opens with a series of rich chords, setting the stage for the famous English horn solo. This plaintive melody, often associated with the song “Goin’ Home” (lyrics were added later by Dvořák’s pupil William Arms Fisher), evokes nostalgia, yearning, and a gentle melancholy. The movement’s middle section introduces a warm, hymn-like theme, conjuring images of both open landscapes and distant homes. Here, Dvořák’s gift for orchestration is on full display: the interplay of winds, strings, and brass creates an atmosphere of profound serenity and reflection.

III. Scherzo: Molto vivace

The third movement is a lively scherzo, brimming with rhythmic vitality and folk-dance energy. Dvořák draws inspiration from the fast-paced Bohemian furiant as well as Native American rhythms he had studied. Syncopated accents and cross-rhythms create a sense of perpetual motion, while the trio section offers a more lyrical, pastoral respite. Throughout, the movement dances between exuberance and nostalgia, a musical celebration of both the old world and the new.

IV. Allegro con fuoco

The finale marked “Allegro con fuoco,” returns to the dramatic intensity of the first movement. The principal theme is robust and insistent, propelling the music forward with irresistible momentum. Dvořák masterfully reintroduces themes from previous movements, weaving them into the musical fabric and lending the symphony a cyclical, unified feel. The movement surges toward a jubilant climax, before concluding with a sudden, quiet resolution—an enigmatic ending that leaves the echoes of the “New World” lingering in the listener’s mind.

Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 is celebrated for its synthesis of Old-World craftsmanship and New World inspiration. The composer himself famously remarked, “I have simply written original themes, embodying the peculiarities of the Indian music, and, using these themes as subjects, have developed them with all the resources of modern rhythm, counterpoint, and orchestral colour.” Indeed, the symphony’s rhythmic drive, pentatonic melodies, and colorful orchestration reflect Dvořák’s absorption of American musical idioms.

Though Dvořák did not use direct quotations, echoes of spirituals such as “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” and the rhythms of Native American powwow drumming can be traced in the symphony’s melodic contours and orchestral gestures. At the same time, the music is deeply rooted in Dvořák’s Czech homeland, with its use of folk-dance rhythms, modal harmonies, and a sense of lyrical longing.

The world premiere of Symphony No. 9 took place at Carnegie Hall on December 16, 1893, with the New York Philharmonic conducted by Anton Seidl. The work was met with immediate acclaim, lauded as a new voice in symphonic music and a testament to the possibilities of cross-cultural exchange. Critics praised its melodic beauty, rhythmic verve, and emotional depth.

Over time, the “New World Symphony” has become one of the most frequently performed and recorded symphonies in the world. Its melodies have entered the popular consciousness, inspiring countless adaptations in film, television, and popular music. The Largo’s principal theme has achieved iconic status.

Beyond its popularity, the symphony played a significant role in shaping American musical identity. Dvořák’s call for American composers to draw inspiration from their own folk traditions resonated deeply, paving the way for future generations to explore and celebrate the musical diversity of the Americas.

Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 “From the New World” endures as a masterpiece of cross-cultural resonance. It is a work that honors the past, embraces the present, and looks toward the future—a musical bridge between worlds. Its enduring popularity is a testament to the power of music to unite, inspire, and transcend borders.

Whether you are hearing it for the first time or returning to a beloved favorite, the “New World Symphony” offers an ever-renewing journey of discovery, hope, and wonder.

The Symphony is scored for: 2 flutes (2nd = piccolo), 2 oboes (2nd = English horn), 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, cymbals, triangle, and strings. Running time is about 40 minutes and BCSO played this work 4/1986,5/1998,4/2006.

Ferde Grofé 1892-1972

Few rivers conjure the same sense of majesty, breadth, and narrative as the mighty Mississippi. In 1925, American composer and arranger Ferde Grofé sought to capture both the physical grandeur and the rich tapestry of cultures that orbit this legendary waterway. His “Mississippi Suite” stands as one of the earliest and most evocative examples of programmatic American orchestral music, blending jazz idioms, folk influences, and impressionistic orchestration to chart the river’s journey from its source in the northern wilderness to the bustling port of New Orleans.

Ferde Grofé is perhaps most widely remembered as the orchestrator behind George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue,” but his own compositional voice is distinct and deeply American. Grofé’s fascination with the landscapes and stories of his homeland found powerful expression in works such as the “Grand Canyon Suite” and, of course, the “Mississippi Suite.” His music is marked by vivid orchestration, melodic clarity, and a cinematic sense of scene-painting, qualities that have made his suites enduring favorites on concert programs.

Commissioned by impresario Paul Whiteman, “Mississippi Suite” was premiered in 1926 by Whiteman’s orchestra, with Grofé himself at the piano. The suite is subtitled “A Journey in Four Movements Down the Mississippi,” and each movement is a musical snapshot of a different stage along the river’s winding course. Grofé’s intent was to evoke not just the natural environments, but also the people and cultures that have flourished along the riverbanks — Native Americans, French settlers, enslaved Africans, and jazz musicians, all woven into the river’s musical current.

The “Mississippi Suite” is comprised of four movements:

1. Father of Waters
2. Huckleberry Finn
3. Old Creole Days
4. Mardi Gras

Each movement stands alone as a vivid tone poem, yet together they trace the Mississippi’s journey from its quiet origins to its jubilant celebration in the heart of New Orleans.

The opening movement, “Father of Waters,” refers to the mighty upper reaches of the Mississippi, beginning at Lake Itasca in Minnesota. Grofé’s music evokes the unspoiled, almost mystical grandeur of the river’s source, with shimmering strings and gently undulating woodwinds suggesting the trickle of the newly formed river. The movement gradually gains breadth and power, mirroring the river’s gathering strength as it carves its way southward, through forests and prairies. Listeners may hear echoes of Native American melodies, interwoven with the orchestral texture, a nod to the earliest peoples to dwell along the river’s banks.

The second movement shifts from the epic to the playful, casting a musical portrait of Mark Twain’s most beloved creation, Huckleberry Finn. Here, the orchestra adopts a carefree, swinging gait, with jaunty horn calls and syncopated rhythms evoking Huck’s mischievous spirit and his adventurous raft journey down the river. Grofé incorporates elements of ragtime and early jazz, reflecting both Twain’s era and the river’s reputation as a cradle of American popular music. The orchestration is light and witty, and one can almost imagine the plash of paddles and the laughter of boys drifting along under summer skies.

With the third movement, Grofé transports listeners to the romantic, multicultural world of the Deep South’s Creole society. “Old Creole Days” is lush and nostalgic, filled with languid melodies and sensuous harmonies. The music conjures images of Spanish moss, grand plantation houses, and the mingling of French, Spanish, African, and Caribbean influences that defined Creole culture. Grofé masterfully employs solo woodwinds and muted brass to evoke a sense of longing and faded grandeur, capturing both the beauty and the bittersweet undertones of a bygone era. The movement stands as an homage to the resilience and complexity of the people who created the region’s distinctive cultural identity.

The suite’s finale explodes in color and rhythm with “Mardi Gras,” a raucous and exuberant celebration of New Orleans’ world-famous carnival. Grofé unleashes the full force of the orchestra, painting in bold, broad strokes: dazzling brass, driving percussion, and swirling strings create a musical parade that pulses with life and energy. Echoes of jazz bands, marching rhythms, and joyful crowds fill the movement, culminating in a jubilant climax that leaves no doubt as to the river’s final destination. “Mardi Gras” not only concludes the journey but also encapsulates the irrepressible spirit of the South’s most legendary city.

“Mississippi Suite” is remarkable for its synthesis of classical and popular idioms. Grofé draws on jazz, ragtime, Creole melodies, and the lush harmonies of Impressionism to create a sound world uniquely his own. His instrumentation is imaginative and evocative, using the full resources of the orchestra to paint landscapes and conjure character. The suite’s accessibility and vivid storytelling have ensured its place in the repertoire — it remains a favorite for audiences and performers alike.

In broader context, Grofé’s work can be seen as an early expression of an American symphonic voice, one willing to embrace the country’s vernacular traditions and to celebrate its diversity. The “Mississippi Suite” predates Aaron Copland’s famous Americana works and contributed to a growing sense that American composers could and should draw from their own land and culture as sources of inspiration.

Ferde Grofé’s Mississippi Suite is scored for a large orchestra, including a full string section, woodwinds (including piccolos, flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons), brass (including horns, trumpets, trombones, tuba), timpani, percussion, celeste, bells, harp, and piano. The piece runs for about 13 minutes and was last performed by the BCSO in 1964 and 1973.

Valerie Coleman 1970-

“Fanfare for Uncommon Times” by Valerie Coleman is a stirring, contemporary work for brass ensemble that captures both the challenges and the possibilities of our era. Written by one of America’s most vibrant and innovative composers, this piece speaks to the resilience, unity, and hope that can arise during moments of adversity. Drawing its title in part from Aaron Copland’s iconic “Fanfare for the Common Man,” Coleman’s composition reimagines the very notion of what a fanfare can be, placing it squarely within the context of the twenty-first century—an era marked by rapid change, global upheaval, and a search for meaning in the face of uncertainty.

Valerie Coleman is one of the leading voices in American concert music today. A Grammy-nominated flutist and composer, she first gained acclaim as founder of the Imani Winds, an ensemble renowned for expanding the boundaries of chamber music through an adventurous mix of repertoire, innovation, and advocacy for underrepresented voices. Coleman’s music is frequently praised for its rhythmic vitality, lyricism, and ability to fuse classical tradition with jazz, Afro-Cuban, and other world music influences. Her commissions have been performed by ensembles and orchestras around the globe, and her commitment to community engagement and music education is evident in her wide-ranging work.

“Fanfare for Uncommon Times” was composed during a period of significant transition and uncertainty. Though each listener will bring their own associations to the work, Coleman’s music often responds to themes of social change, resilience, and the power of collective action. In titling her work, Coleman invokes the tradition of the fanfare—a genre historically used to herald royal events, mark victories, or rally communities in times of need—but she turns this tradition on its head. Rather than focusing on the “common man,” as in Copland’s 1942 wartime masterpiece, Coleman writes for “uncommon times”: moments that test our mettle, demand creative solutions, and cultivate new ways of coming together.

Coleman’s own words reflect this spirit: “In writing ‘Fanfare for Uncommon Times,’ I aimed to capture the sense of uncertainty and possibility that defines our era. The music is both a call to action and a celebration of what we might achieve when we work together, even when the path forward is not always clear.”

The piece opens with a bold, declamatory statement, brass and percussion announcing themselves in a manner both commanding and questioning. Unlike traditional fanfares, which might rely on simple, diatonic chords and predictable cadences, Coleman’s opening gesture is harmonically adventurous, hinting at both dissonance and consonance, as though searching for stability in a shifting world.

Throughout the work, rhythmic drive propels the music forward. Coleman’s background as a flutist is evident in the agile, interlocking woodwind figures that dart between the brass proclamations, creating a sense of dialogue and community among the instrumental voices. Percussion features prominently—not just as a source of energy, but as a unifying force, drawing the ensemble together and underscoring moments of tension and release.

Motivic development is central to the piece’s architecture. Coleman introduces a short, memorable motive early in the work, which is then transformed, fragmented, and woven into new contexts as the music unfolds. This technique mirrors the broader theme of transformation: how ideas—and people—can adapt and flourish amid adversity.

Coleman also embraces a wide dynamic range, using moments of quiet introspection to offset the exuberance of the fanfare’s most triumphant passages. The result is a journey that feels both personal and collective, intimate yet expansive.

“Fanfare for Uncommon Times” stands as a testament to Valerie Coleman’s artistry and her belief in music’s ability to both reflect and shape the world around us. The work honors the tradition of the fanfare while boldly reimagining it for a new era—one defined by uncertainty, courage, and the enduring human spirit.

In this piece, Coleman invites us not only to witness history, but to participate in its making. She reminds us that even in the most challenging moments, we are capable of rising together, giving voice to our hopes, and forging a path toward a brighter future. When the final notes of the fanfare ring out, they do so as a call: not only to remember what we have endured, but to imagine—and create—what comes next.

“Fanfare for Uncommon Times” is scored for brass and percussion, specifically featuring four horns, three trumpets, two tenor trombones, a bass trombone, a tuba, timpani, and three percussionists. It runs for about 6 minutes and the performance this evening is the first for the BCSO.

Katie Jenkins

“Hiraeth,” composed by Katie Jenkins, is a powerful and evocative work that captures the ineffable sense of longing and homesickness that the Welsh word “hiraeth” encapsulates. This composition invites listeners on a sonic journey through the landscapes of memory, emotion, and identity, evoking images and feelings that are both deeply personal and universally resonant.

Katie Jenkins is a contemporary composer distinguished by her ability to bridge the realms of tradition and innovation. Hailing from Wales, Jenkins seamlessly weaves elements of her cultural heritage into her music, blending folk influences with contemporary classical idioms. Her works often draw from natural landscapes, poetry, and the emotional spectrum of the human experience. Jenkins’s music has been performed widely, and her voice is increasingly recognized for its lyricism, atmospheric textures, and evocative storytelling.

The term “hiraeth” is unique to the Welsh language, defying direct translation into English. It encompasses feelings of nostalgia, yearning, homesickness, and an unquenchable desire for something lost or unattainable, often a place or a time, but sometimes a state of being. Jenkins embraces this layered meaning, channeling it into a work that meditates on the nature of belonging and the ache of absence.

Jenkins’s “Hiraeth” is rich in textural detail and employs a varied orchestral palette. The piece typically unfolds in a single, continuous movement, though within it are distinct sections that mirror the emotional ebb and flow of longing. Jenkins utilizes modal harmonies and folk-inspired melodic fragments, evoking the rolling hills and misty valleys of Wales.

• Opening: The piece opens with a gentle, wistful theme, often presented by solo woodwinds or strings, suggesting a voice calling across a distant landscape. Harmonic ambiguity and soft, sustained chords create an atmosphere of reminiscence.
• Development: As the music progresses, textures thicken and the harmonic language grows more complex. Jenkins introduces countermelodies and layered instrumentation, building a sense of internal conflict and yearning.
• Climax: The emotional peak of “Hiraeth” is marked by a surge in dynamics and orchestral color. Brass and percussion emerge, and the melody swells, symbolizing both the pain and beauty of longing.
• Resolution: Following the climax, the music gradually subsides. Echoes of the opening theme return, now transformed by the journey. The piece concludes with a sense of unresolved yearning—true to the meaning of hiraeth itself.

Jenkins’s Welsh heritage is central to “Hiraeth.” She incorporates subtle references to traditional Welsh folk tunes, using pentatonic scales and lilting rhythms that echo the cadence of the Welsh language. The music’s phrasing, ornamentation, and modal shifts recall both the natural landscape and the oral tradition of Welsh storytelling. In doing so, Jenkins not only pays homage to her roots but also situates the listener within a broader cultural context.

The composer’s use of orchestration is particularly noteworthy. Jenkins favors delicate, shimmering textures, layering strings, woodwinds, and harp to evoke mists, winds, and the play of light on water. At moments, the orchestra is pared down to a single instrument or duo, heightening the sense of intimacy and solitude. Contrasts between dense, vibrant passages and sparse, open textures mirror the emotional turbulence at the heart of the work.

“Hiraeth” is a work that beckons listeners to reflect on their own experiences of longing, memory, and loss. Jenkins’s sensitive pacing allows for moments of introspection amidst the music’s dramatic surges. The cyclical return of melodic material suggests that longing is not a linear journey with a definitive end, but rather a continuing presence, sometimes painful, sometimes comforting, always deeply felt.

Listeners are likely to find themselves transported through time and place, reminded of their own stories of home, change, and nostalgia. The music’s emotive power lies in its ability to evoke both the universal and the deeply personal, offering space for quiet contemplation as well as cathartic release.

“Hiraeth” by Katie Jenkins stands as a testament to the enduring influence of place, memory, and cultural identity in music. Through her sensitive and imaginative compositional voice, Jenkins gives shape to an emotion that is at once specific and boundless. The work does not offer easy answers or tidy resolutions; instead, it leaves listeners suspended in the poignant beauty of longing, inviting them to seek meaning in both presence and absence.

The BCSO will be performing this work for the first time. The work is scored for the normal orchestral instrumentation and runs for about 10 minutes.