Concerts & Events

Our final concert features Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 (“Titan”), which starts with the soft sounds of nature and ends with a monumental fanfare. Our final tribute to John Williams is his iconic Jurassic Park Theme, a majestic piece befitting titanic dinosaurs. Valerie Coleman’s Umoja is an anthem of unity for the world.

John Towner Williams (b. February 8, 1932)

Theme from Jurassic Park (1993) 

John Williams began writing the Jurassic Park score at the end of February 1993. The composition process was done concurrently with the sound editing process and Williams used inspiration from sound designer Gary Rydstrom’s dinosaur noises. Williams described the process as “a rugged, noisy effort—a massive job of symphonic cartooning.” True to form, Williams used several musical motifs to represent different aspects and characters of the movie, weaving them together in the score to highlight the story and the drama. The first motif is known as “Theme from Jurassic Park.” It is first heard when the visitors first see the Brachiosaurus. This theme is widely regarded as one of John Williams’s greatest and is presented in different variants throughout the film. Another theme, called “Journey to the Island,” is a noble fanfare, first heard as the helicopter approaches Isla Nublar. A third theme made up of four notes is heard frequently in scenes involving the threat of the carnivorous dinosaurs, the raptors in particular. Williams felt he needed to write “pieces that would convey a sense of awe and fascination,” given that the movie dealt with the overwhelming happiness and excitement that would emerge from seeing live dinosaurs. There is no doubt that the music from Jurassic Park is some of Williams’s most memorable and evocative. 

Valerie Coleman (b. September 3, 1970) 

Umoja: Anthem of Unity (2001/2019) 

Born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky, Valerie Coleman began playing flute in the fourth grade. She also composed as a hobby, though it was soon obvious that composing would figure prominently in her musical future, with large-scale works appearing even in her younger years. She studied at Boston University and the Mannes College of Music and began organizing the chamber music ensemble Imani Winds in 1996 (Imani is Swahili for “faith”). This group has become one of the most famous of its kind in the world today. Coleman also embarked on a successful solo career, appearing with major symphonies worldwide. Highlighted as one of the “Top 35 Women Composers” by The Washington Post, Coleman was named Performance Today’s 2020 Classical Woman of the Year, recognizing an individual who has made a significant contribution to classical music as a performer, composer or educator. Recent commissions include works for the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, The Library of Congress, Orchestra of St. Luke’s, American Composers Orchestra and The National Flute Association. The original version of Umoja: Anthem for Unity was a simple song for women’s choir. Coleman then arranged it for wind quintet in 2001. In 2019, The Philadelphia Orchestra commissioned an orchestral arrangement which was premiered in Philadelphia and at Carnegie Hall, marking the first time the orchestra performed a classical work by a living female African American composer. The composer’s program note says: Almost two decades later from the original, the orchestral version brings an expansion and sophistication to the short and sweet melody, beginning with sustained ethereal passages that float and shift from a bowed vibraphone, supporting the introduction of the melody by solo violin. Here the melody sings sweetly in its simplest form with an earnestness reminiscent of Appalachian style music. From there, the melody dances and weaves throughout the instrument families, interrupted by dissonant viewpoints led by the brass and percussion sections, which represent the clash of injustices, racism, and hate that threatens to gain a foothold in the world today. Spiky textures turn into an aggressive exchange between upper woodwinds and percussion before a return to the melody as a gentle reminder of kindness and humanity. Through the brass led ensemble tutti, the journey ends with a bold call of unity that harkens back to the original anthem. In the composer’s own words, “This version honors the simple melody that ever was but is now a full exploration into the meaning of freedom and unity. Now more than ever, Umoja has to ring as a strong and beautiful anthem for the world we live in today.” 

Gustav Mahler (July 7, 1860-May 18, 1911) 

Symphony No. 1 in D major “The Titan” (1888) 

Mahler conceived his first symphony as a tone poem with descriptive titles, including its subtitle. It has been speculated that it was based on a novel, Titan (1800-1803), by one of Mahler’s favorite authors, Jean Paul, but accounts of the composer’s struggle to decide whether or not to include the subtitle, and his subsequent permanent withdrawal of the program, suggest that the subtitle (and underlying concept) may be more generic, representing the journey from immaturity to fame, or achieving “titanic” status. Symphony No. 1 was premiered at the Hungarian Royal Opera House in Budapest in November 1889. The initial reviews were mixed—his potential was recognized, but his expressive range lacked refinement. Initially, the piece had five movements. The original second movement, subtitled “Blumine” (“Flowers”), received harsh criticism and was subsequently removed. By the time the work reached America in 1909, the piece had assumed its current four-movement form. The symphony has musical connections to earlier works, such as Songs of a Wayfarer, and is a clear example of Mahler’s unique ability to combine intimate, song-like lyricism with more variety in color and volume available in bigger orchestral forces. The original concept of the work also grouped the movements into two larger sections, the first two movements (or three, with “Blumine”) as a section subtitled “From the Days of Youth: Music of Flowers, Fruit, and Thorn,” and the last two movements as a section subtitled “The Human Comedy.” Individually, the four movements are subtitled “Spring and No End (Awakening of Nature),” “In Full Sail,” “Stranded (A Funeral March),” and “From Hell to Heaven.” The first movement has an overall pastoral feeling, creating an image of Spring gradually appearing and coming into full bloom. The peaceful opening suggests a walk in the woods with soft wind in the trees, trumpet fanfares from a nearby army barracks, and a hunt that starts in the distance and eventually rides by. The second movement is a rollicking dance, an Austrian ländler (a stately waltz). The confident rhythm and depth of sound easily fit the image of a ship (or a life) under full sail. The third movement is based on the folksong Frère Jacques (a.k.a. Bruder Martin), presented in minor to create the ascribed Funeral March effect. There is a bit of irony, however, in a contrasting section that creates an atmosphere that is quite dance-like (is it sentimental or celebratory?)—this movement was inspired by the image of a “Hunter’s Funeral Procession” where animals happily carry a hunter’s coffin to his burial. The fourth movement explodes, dramatically introducing Hell, and the sequence of musical events that follows clearly represents the struggle to escape and the eventual triumph of reaching Heaven. Toward the end, Mahler quotes the first movement, bringing Nature back into focus, as if to remind us of its power and that we should be grateful to be a part of it. Eventually, the humility of this quiet section bursts into celebration as the feeling of joy overwhelms the situation, and the triumphant music returns, leading to an amazingly dramatic ending, with loud fanfares, horn players on their feet, and the full force of the orchestra in all its glory. Whether viewed programmatically with images of Nature or as a metaphor for the maturing process, the impact of this symphony is nothing less than titanic.

– Jeffrey Snedeker