To say there was an air of excitement at the past weekend’s Knoxville Symphony Orchestra concerts at the Tennessee Theatre would be an understatement. The occasion was the world premiere performances of Michael Schachter’s Violin Concerto: The Cycle of Life, a work specifically inspired both in name and in program by the monumental glass and metal work by Richard Jolley that has attracted viewers at the Knoxville Museum of Art since 2014. The concerto, commissioned by the KSO with support from a sizable number of interested individuals and organizations, had originally been intended for performance two years ago when live performances were cancelled due to the Covid-19 pandemic. As a result, the weekend’s air of excitement encompassed not just those interested in hearing and judging a new piece of music, but also those who had contributed financially to the effort and were enjoying the sense of participation. Excitement, too, came from the second half of the program and its stark contrast of style, intent, and substance—an absolutely phenomenal and memorable ensemble performance by the orchestra of Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2 in E minor.
Presenting new works of music, although ultimately essential for the future existence of symphony orchestras, has traditionally carried a risk. Even in the largest markets, one has only to look at box office receipts and empty seats to understand that challenging audiences with contemporary works by living composers often comes at a price. KSO music director Aram Demirjian has taken a judicious path in this regard by gradually introducing shorter contemporary works into programs, as well as including works from under-appreciated minority and female composers who belong in the pages of music history. However, at symphony length, Schachter’s through-composed, seven movement concerto represents a bold statement for the orchestra, and an opportunity for its audience, a step that means much more than just a new score being performed.
Given that the Schachter work had a quasi-programmatic structure stemming from the specifics of the Jolley sculpture, it wasn’t surprising that an accompanying video projection had also been created. Projected on a large screen behind the orchestra, the thankfully gentle visuals by Doug Griffey of Loch and Key Productions referenced the elements in the Jolley installation and acted as something of a roadmap. Of course, this begs the question: does music need a roadmap? Such visual support can also be a distraction and lead viewers/listeners to mental images and conclusions perhaps not intended by the music. Visuals accompanying music create, most likely, a third entity, something we enjoy in the storytelling of motion pictures and television, but a distraction in the concert hall that often competes with the composer for focus and attention.
That said, Schachter’s concerto is a big, complex, and impressive work of conversation between the violinist—beautifully rendered here with some thrilling virtuosity by violinist Tessa Lark—and the orchestra led by Maestro Demirjian. Through the seven movements, one felt an analog push and pull of emotions created by musical textures and tonalities that ran the gamut from dissonant angles and bent pitches to strangely comfortable textural references of Americana music such as bluegrass and folksy dance-like rhythms.
The movements—entitled “Primordial”, “Emergence”, “Flight”, “Desire”, “Tree of Life”, “Contemplation”, and “Sky”—represent an arc that carries the listener along. Lark, who had been seated inconspicuously in the violin section of the orchestra from the outset, “emerges” in the second movement, moving slowly to the front of the stage, also slowly gaining a musical foothold. The third movement, “Flight,” takes off with an energy and movement that pushes upward. The fourth movement—“Desire”—was undeniably memorable for its textures and colors of harp and flute (alto flute played beautifully by Jill Bartine), as well as an engaging repartee between soloist and cello (Andy Bryenton) in a rather magical moment that naturally ends in consummation. The sixth movement “Contemplation” was a cadenza of beautiful tonal frenzy. The final movement “Sky” ends not with flash and bang, but with the soloist inevitably accepting the premise of a “cycle of life” and returning from whence she came.
Although I heard both performances of the Schachter concerto, I could have easily wished for a half-dozen more. This is a beautiful work with layer after layer of intriguing moments that appear and then vanish ephemerally—much like the cycle of life itself. Lark’s performance with Demirjian and the orchestra was simply stunning.
As mentioned, the second half of the evening’s program, Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2 in E-minor, offered a stark contrast to the Schachter concerto, but one that was beautifully successful and suggested a new dimension of performance for the orchestra. Rachmaninoff has been called the last of the Romantic era composers, one who stubbornly steered a course between traditional 19th Century romanticism and the growing forces of 20th Century modernity. Its hour length and sweeping lyricism injected with almost continual melodic introductions carries the danger of becoming musical sprawl. But Demirjian obviously knew the pitfalls and painted the symphony with variations of dynamics that was not only refreshing, but intensely satisfying. The orchestra, too, bought into the maestro’s premise and played with an ensemble precision that was perhaps the most accomplished display this season.
Shining brightly in this Rachmaninoff treasure chest were the KSO strings (Concertmaster William Shaub) that managed the lyricism with a radiant lushness that was bright with sparkle and warm with solidity and richness in its depth. That the orchestra could maintain this high level of focus over the work’s length, weaving in and out of one melodic treatment after another with clarity and precision, was all the more impressive.
Admittedly, the opening movement that begins with a somber Largo that moves into an extended Allegro, does seem to go on forever. However, the beauty of this performance was that one ceased to care about length because it all made sense. The third Adagio movement brought the wistful melodic theme for the solo clarinet, played with persuasive, poignant beauty here by KSO principal clarinet, Gary Sperl. Demirjian set up the finale nicely, teasing with volume, but allowing a somewhat restrained ebullience to carry the ending.
It was a pleasure to hear an evening of the two works, radically different from each other in their purpose and direction. Kudos go to Demirjian and the orchestra for aiming high and making it an exceptional evening of music.
