Program Notes

Duke Ellington 1899-1974

Duke Ellington’s Black, Brown and Beige stands as one of the most ambitious works in the history of jazz, a sweeping symphonic suite that boldly redefined both the boundaries of jazz composition and the cultural conversation around African American experience in the United States. Premiered at Carnegie Hall in 1943, this extended jazz composition is more than just a musical journey—it is a statement of dignity, struggle, and triumph, rendered in the grandest of musical forms.

When Ellington conceived Black, Brown and Beige, he sought to elevate jazz to the concert stage, presenting it as a sophisticated, deeply expressive art form worthy of comparison to the classical canon. But more than that, he envisioned the suite as a “tone parallel to the history of the Negro in America.” Through music, Ellington would attempt to trace the arc of African American history from the days of slavery, through the trials and tribulations of emancipation and segregation, to the contributions and cultural blossoming of Black Americans in contemporary society.

Composed amid World War II and against the backdrop of the Harlem Renaissance’s lingering influence, Black, Brown and Beige was both timely and radical. In 1943, America was still entrenched in Jim Crow segregation, and the contributions of African Americans were often overlooked or undervalued. Ellington’s suite addressed this imbalance head-on, offering a sweeping musical narrative that placed Black history, suffering, and achievement at the center of the American story.

The premiere of the piece at Carnegie Hall was itself a historic event. Jazz, which had originated in the dance halls and clubs of New Orleans, Chicago, and Harlem, was now being presented as a “serious” art form in one of America’s most prestigious venues. The concert attracted an integrated audience, and the anticipation was palpable; Ellington, already a titan of American music, was staking his artistic reputation on a work that defied conventional expectations.

Black, Brown and Beige was originally conceived as a single, uninterrupted suite, but for practical performance reasons, it is often divided into three main movements, each representing a different chapter in the African American experience:

• Black – This opening section evokes the early years of slavery, blending spirituals, work songs, and blues forms to create a somber yet dignified portrait of endurance and faith. The movement’s melodies and rhythms echo the pain and hope embedded in spiritual traditions, with motifs reminiscent of songs sung in the fields and churches of the antebellum South.
• Brown – The middle section transitions into the era of emancipation and the rise of Black soldiers who fought in American wars. This movement contains one of Ellington’s most famous themes, “Come Sunday,” a spiritual infused with longing and uplift. The “Light” and “West Indian Influences” sub-sections celebrate cultural variety and the burgeoning identity of African Americans as citizens and contributors to the nation. The music brims with optimism, swing, and hints of gospel exuberance.
• Beige – The final movement represents the more contemporary life of African Americans in the 20th century. Here, Ellington explores the complexities of urban life, migration, and the evolving place of Black citizens in American society. Jazz idioms intermingle with blues and popular song forms, culminating in a hopeful, open-ended conclusion that suggests an ongoing journey toward equality and recognition.

Ellington’s orchestration is masterful, employing the full palette of his big band to conjure a wide range of moods and textures. From lush brass chorales to plaintive clarinet solos, driving swing rhythms to the haunting melancholy of muted trumpets, every section is carefully crafted to serve the broader narrative.

“Come Sunday,” the suite’s most enduring melody, would later become a standard, interpreted by vocalists such as Mahalia Jackson in a famously moving rendition. The suite also incorporates improvisation, allowing soloists to infuse the music with personal expression—a reminder that this is a living, breathing account of collective and individual experiences.

The Carnegie Hall premiere received mixed reviews. While many applauded Ellington’s ambition and the emotional depth of his music, some critics—uninformed about the scope of Ellington’s vision—struggled to accept jazz in a symphonic context. Yet, over time, *Black, Brown and Beige* has come to be regarded as a landmark achievement, not only in Ellington’s career but in American musical history.

The suite paved the way for future jazz composers to create extended, programmatic works and to claim space for Black narratives in the concert hall. Its influence can be traced forward to artists such as Charles Mingus, Wynton Marsalis, and Terence Blanchard, who have also used the language of jazz to explore themes of race, identity, and culture.

Black, Brown and Beige is scored for: 3 flutes (3rd=piccolo/alto flute), 3 oboes (3rd=English horn), 3 clarinets (3rd=bass clarinet), 3 bassoons (3rd=contrabassoon), 4 horns, 4 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, also saxophone, baritone saxophone, jazz bass, timpani, percussion (bass drum, chimes, glockenspiel, marimba, crash cymbals, ratchet, snare drum, sock cymbal, suspended cymbal, tam-tam, tom-toms, wind chimes), drum set, harp, and strings. It runs at about 18 minutes and was last performed by the BCSO april of 2017.

When the first notes of “Harlem” rise from the orchestra, listeners are immediately transported into the vibrant heart of one of America’s most culturally significant neighborhoods. Written in 1950, “Harlem” is Duke Ellington’s vivid orchestral tone poem, a musical journey that captures the pulse and panorama of this storied New York City community—its struggles, triumphs, laughter, and style. In this work, Ellington, the renowned jazz composer, pianist, and bandleader, achieves something extraordinary: he paints Harlem not only as a place, but as a feeling, a living legacy of African American life.

“Harlem” was commissioned by Arturo Toscanini, the legendary conductor, for a performance at Carnegie Hall, reflecting the growing recognition of jazz as a serious and sophisticated art form. Duke Ellington, already celebrated for his innovative big band compositions and his role in the Harlem Renaissance, accepted the challenge with characteristic flair. He composed “Harlem” as a tone poem—an orchestral form most often associated with the European classical tradition. Yet, in Ellington’s hands, it became a vessel for jazz, blues, gospel, and swing, all woven together with his inimitable sense of color and rhythm.

Ellington premiered “Harlem” at Carnegie Hall on January 21, 1951. It was later transcribed for full orchestra and performed by several major American symphony orchestras. The piece stands as a testament to Ellington’s ambition to create music that transcended boundaries, bridging the worlds of jazz and classical music, and capturing the spirit of a community that shaped much of 20th-century American culture.

“Harlem” unfolds as a continuous, single-movement work, roughly 13–15 minutes in length, but within that span, it contains a succession of episodes that evoke the sights, sounds, and moods of a day in Harlem. Ellington described it as “a tone parallel to Harlem,” in which he sought to recreate a virtual tour through the streets, churches, clubs, and parades of the neighborhood. The piece is not programmatic in a literal sense; rather, it offers impressions and vignettes, each one shimmering with Ellington’s orchestral imagination.

The composition opens with a bluesy, almost mysterious clarinet solo, which sets the stage for the unfolding drama. As the orchestra joins, listeners are led down the bustling boulevards, past street vendors, lively conversations, and the ever-present rhythm of daily life. Ellington’s harmonic language and use of instrumental color create a sense of movement and anticipation.

• The Opening: A clarinet solo emerges, followed by muted brass and shimmering percussion. This “walking theme” evokes the feeling of a stroller setting out into the heart of Harlem, wide-eyed and curious.
• Church Scene: Suddenly, the music shifts, as the listener finds themself in a Sunday service. Gospel-inspired harmonies, lush chorales in the brass, and call-and-response figures paint a picture of spiritual uplift and community gathering.
• Parade: The tempo picks up with a raucous, strutting march, reminiscent of a Harlem parade or a block party. Here, Ellington’s love for the theatrical shines, with bold brass, swinging rhythms, and playful woodwind interjections.
• Nightlife and Jazz Clubs: As dusk falls, the composition oozes with the sultry atmosphere of Harlem’s legendary clubs. Saxophones and trumpets trade bluesy licks, the percussion intensifies, and the energy becomes infectious—echoing the city’s reputation as the birthplace of the swing era.
• Reflection and Finale: The pace slows, as if the city itself pauses to reflect. Fragments of earlier themes return, this time tinged with nostalgia and hope. The piece closes with a sense of both resolution and anticipation, as if to say that Harlem’s story continues, ever evolving.

What makes “Harlem” so distinctive is Ellington’s ability to translate everyday experiences into sound. He employs a lush, expanded palette, using the full resources of the orchestra while retaining the rhythmic drive and improvisational spirit of jazz. Ellington’s orchestrations are masterful—he blends unusual combinations of instruments, employs innovative uses of mutes and effects, and allows soloists to bring their own personalities to bear on the music.

The blues is never far from the surface, whether in the inflections of a trumpet, the walking bass lines, or the syncopated rhythms that animate the whole. The result is a piece that feels both meticulously composed and alive with spontaneity—a reflection of Harlem itself.

“Harlem” stands at the crossroads of genres, fusing the structure and sonority of the symphonic tradition with the improvisation and swing of jazz. Ellington aimed to show that jazz could be elevated to the concert hall without losing its soul. The work’s success in both jazz and classical venues speaks to its universality and enduring appeal.

Ellington’s use of form is particularly ingenious: while the piece is through-composed, it features recurring themes that serve as both unifying elements and invitations for improvisation. The dialogue between sections—trumpets responding to saxophones, trombones trading phrases with clarinets—gives the music a sense of community, echoing Harlem’s own rich tapestry of voices.

Harlem, in the early and mid-20th century, was more than a neighborhood; it was a crucible of Black creativity and resilience, a home to artists, poets, writers, and musicians who helped define American culture. The Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s brought forth luminaries such as Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, and of course, Duke Ellington himself. Even by 1950, when “Harlem” was composed, the neighborhood retained its importance as a symbol of progress, community, and the ongoing struggle for equality.

Through “Harlem,” Ellington pays tribute to this legacy. The piece is both a celebration and a meditation, filled with joy, humor, reverence, and pride. It is as much a musical portrait as it is an act of remembrance.

Harlem is scored for:  3 flutes (3 = piccolo), 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, 2 alto saxophones, 2 tenor saxophones, baritone saxophone, 4 horns, 4 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, snare drum, drum set, tam-tam, cowbell, 2 gourds, shaker, 2 suspended cymbals, tom toms), harp, & strings. Tonights performance is a first for the BCSO.

Dimitri Shostakovich 1910-1975

Dmitri Shostakovich, one of the most celebrated and enigmatic composers of the twentieth century, remains a towering figure in both the world of classical music and the rich tapestry of Soviet musical history. His “Jazz Suite No. 2” is a testament to his unique voice, blending Soviet-era traditions with Western influences and his own unmistakable wit. While the complete Jazz Suite No. 2 comprises multiple movements, this program note will focus on three of its most captivating: the Scherzo, the Lullaby, and the Serenade.

Though often associated with the intense symphonies and emotionally charged string quartets that reflect the tumult of Soviet life, Shostakovich was also a master of nuance, irony, and humor. His affection for lighter forms, popular music, and the rhythms of urban life often found their way into his output, and nowhere is this more apparent than in his Jazz Suites.

Composed in 1938, the “Suite for Jazz Orchestra No. 2” (not to be confused with the earlier “Suite for Jazz Orchestra No. 1” from 1934) was originally commissioned for the newly formed State Jazz Orchestra of Victor Knushevitsky. Unfortunately, the original score was lost during World War II, and it wasn’t until the late 20th century that a reconstruction—based on surviving parts—was made by musicologist Gerard McBurney in 1999. For many years, confusion reigned between the “Jazz Suite No. 2” and the “Suite for Variety Orchestra,” but today, the jazz suite is celebrated for its playful, inventive, and colorful examination of popular dance forms and melodies.

Shostakovich’s Jazz Suites are not jazz in the American improvisational sense, but rather witty, stylized tributes to the genre, colored by his distinctive orchestration and melodic invention. The music is suffused with the energy of cabaret, dance halls, and cinema, all filtered through a Russian lens.

The movements of Jazz Suite No. 2 each evoke a different popular style, sometimes tongue-in-cheek, often with a sense of nostalgia or gentle parody. The Scherzo, Lullaby, and Serenade all exemplify Shostakovich’s brilliance in drawing out character and color from his ensemble, as well as his ability to infuse light forms with wit and, occasionally, subtle melancholy.

The term “scherzo” traditionally implies a playful or jocular piece, and Shostakovich embraces this spirit while infusing it with his characteristic twists. The movement opens with brisk, syncopated rhythms that invite the listener into a world of subtle mischief. The orchestration is vibrant: woodwinds chatter, the brass shine with sly interjections, and the percussion adds a hint of the unexpected.

Melodically, the Scherzo dances along with a light step, but Shostakovich’s harmonic language ensures the listener never feels entirely at ease. Unexpected modulations and clever chromaticism keep the mood piquant. The movement’s humor, however, is never heavy-handed. There’s a sense of urban hustle—perhaps the bustle of a Leningrad street at dusk, or the sly wink of a vaudeville performer.

The Scherzo also showcases Shostakovich’s gift for orchestral coloration. Elements of jazz creep in—clarinet glissandi, muted trumpet figures, and a rhythm section that subtly mimics the swing band style. Yet, underneath the playful surface, one can sometimes detect a thread of irony, as if Shostakovich is both celebrating and gently poking fun at the music’s own exuberance.

The Lullaby forms the suite’s tender heart, offering a moment of reflective calm amid the surrounding bustle. Here, Shostakovich’s lyricism comes to the fore. The melody, carried by strings and sometimes doubling with woodwinds, is wistful, almost nostalgic. There is a simplicity that belies its sophistication: gentle rocking rhythms evoke the motion of a cradle, while delicate harmonies color the music with a bittersweet hue.

The lullaby’s atmosphere is one of gentle reassurance, yet, in true Shostakovich fashion, there’s a subtle undercurrent of longing. The music conjures images of nighttime in the city—a solitary lamp burning, a child’s quiet dreams, or perhaps a sense of yearning for peace amid uncertainty.

Shostakovich’s orchestration is particularly evocative in this movement. The muted strings provide a soft cushion, while woodwinds offer brief moments of brightness. The interplay between melody and accompaniment is seamless, creating an enveloping sound world that soothes but never lapses into sentimentality.

Closing this selection is the Serenade, a movement that brims with charm and elegance. The serenade, traditionally an evening song of courtship or devotion, is here reimagined through Shostakovich’s urbane, slightly ironic lens.

The movement opens with a lilting waltz rhythm, the strings and winds spinning out a graceful, slightly tongue-in-cheek melody. The feel is reminiscent of a European ballroom, yet tinged with a uniquely Russian melancholy. Shostakovich’s inventiveness shines in his use of orchestral color—trumpets and trombones add sparkle, while percussion maintains a gentle, swaying pulse.

As the Serenade unfolds, the music alternates between lush lyricism and playful interjections. There is a sense of elegance, but always with a knowing glance—Shostakovich seems to wink at the conventions of the serenade, enriching them with unexpected harmonic turns and rhythmic quirks. The result is a movement that feels both sophisticated and approachable.

The Serenade’s conclusion is particularly delightful, fading away with a sense of contentment and grace, as if the music itself is bidding the listener a fond goodnight.

Shostakovich’s Jazz Suite No. 2 offers a window into the composer’s multifaceted persona. Through the Scherzo, Lullaby, and Serenade, listeners are invited into a world where wit and wonder exist side by side, and where jazz, classical, and popular idioms blend into something entirely new. These movements are both tributes to and transformations of the genres they evoke, colored by Shostakovich’s unique sensibility and his love of musical contrasts.

Whether encountered for the first time or returned to after many listenings, these pieces reward close attention and open the door to a deeper appreciation of Shostakovich’s artistry—his humor, his depth, and his unerring ability to transform the everyday into the extraordinary.

The Jazz Suite No.2 runs about 18 minutes and is being performed by the BCSO for the first time tonight.

Darius Milhaud 1892-1974

Darius Milhaud’s “La Création du Monde” (“The Creation of the World”), Op. 81, stands as one of the most captivating and boundary-pushing works of early 20th-century music. Composed in 1923 for a ballet commission, this piece captures an exhilarating confluence of musical cultures, artistic ambitions, and narrative innovation, all inspired by the pulsating energy of post-World War I Paris. At a time when the world was redefining itself, Milhaud’s work offered a bold new vision—one forged in the vivid crucible of jazz, myth, and modernism.

The roots of “La Création du Monde” can be traced to Milhaud’s travels to the United States in 1922. As a member of the influential group of French composers known as “Les Six,” Milhaud was already steeped in the cosmopolitan spirit that characterized Parisian artistic circles of the time. Yet it was in Harlem, New York, that Milhaud first encountered the raw, improvisatory energy of jazz. Night after night, he listened to jazz bands whose syncopated rhythms, blues harmonies, and infectious drive left an indelible impression on the composer.

Returning to France, Milhaud was commissioned by Rolf de Maré, founder of the Ballets Suédois, to create a new ballet. The scenario, penned by poet Blaise Cendrars, drew on African creation myths, casting the genesis of the world in vibrant musical and choreographic colors. Milhaud’s experience with jazz, combined with his interest in polytonality, polymeter, and colorful orchestration, led him to craft a work that would both honor and reimagine the origins of music and life itself.

The ballet “La Création du Monde” depicts the birth of the universe according to African cosmology. The gods gather, perform sacred dances, and from the primal chaos bring forth earth, plants, animals, and finally humanity. This narrative, rendered through Cendrars’ poetic vision, is realized in Milhaud’s music with a sense of ritual, exuberance, and mystery.

The ballet premiered at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris on October 25, 1923. With choreography by Jean Börlin, costumes and sets by Fernand Léger (whose Cubist designs added a striking visual dimension), and the Ballets Suédois company performing, the premiere was a sensation—somewhat scandalous, thoroughly modern, and utterly unlike anything Paris had witnessed before.

Milhaud scored “La Création du Monde” for a small orchestra heavily influenced by the jazz bands he had heard in New York. The ensemble includes:

• Woodwinds: flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, alto saxophone
• Brass: horn, trumpet, trombone
• Percussion: timpani, drum set, and various auxiliary percussion (wood block, cymbals, triangle, etc.)
• Piano, strings (including solo double bass and solo cello)

The alto saxophone, still a relative newcomer to the concert hall at the time, lends a particularly distinctive color to the ensemble, evoking both the world of jazz and the exoticism of the ballet’s mythical subject.

“La Création du Monde” is cast in a single continuous movement, though it comprises several distinct sections that outline the narrative of creation. The structure can be described as follows:

• Introduction and Overture: The piece opens with a mysterious, subdued prelude, introducing thematic material that recurs throughout the ballet. Dark chords, blues inflections, and a slow, processional tempo set the stage for the sacred drama to unfold.
• Fugue: Milhaud writes a jazz-inspired fugue—one of the first of its kind—where classical counterpoint meets urban blues. The fugue subject is announced by the strings and is taken up by various instruments, each entrance colored by jazzy harmonies and syncopations.
• Main Dance Sections: The gods dance and enact the creation, with music that alternates between soulful lyricism and exuberant, rhythm-driven passages. Each section is characterized by vivid orchestral textures: clarinet and saxophone solos, bold brass interjections, and intricate interplay among the strings.
• Finale: The ballet concludes with a lively, celebratory dance, bursting with rhythmic energy and harmonic brightness. The music ends with a sense of balance restored, the world created and set in motion.

“La Création du Monde” is much more than a ballet about the origins of life; it is itself a creation story for modern music. In its pages, Darius Milhaud forged a new world—one in which jazz, myth, and modernism coexist, sparking with creative possibility. Today, nearly a century after its premiere, the work continues to speak to audiences as a celebration of invention, diversity, and the boundless potential of musical art.

For listeners and performers alike, engaging with “The Creation of the World” is to witness the birth not only of a mythic universe, but of a new kind of music—one that reminds us that creation, in all its forms, is an act of daring, of synthesis, and of joy.

The score is written for a small orchestra of eighteen instrumentalists: 2 flutes, (1 also plays piccolo), oboe, 2 clarinets, bassoon, alto saxophone, french horn, 2 trumpets, trombone, piano, 3 timpani + 2 small timpani, 1 percussionist (snare drum, tenor drum, tambourin, pedal bass drum + cymbal attachment, cymbals, tambourine, wood-blockand cowbell), 2 violins, violoncello, double bass.  The piece runs about 15 minutes and was last performed by the BCSO April of 2006.