With March being guest conductor month, the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra turned to Maestro Conner Gray Covington to helm last Thursday and Friday’s Masterworks concert pair. Although Covington’s bio states he was born in Louisiana, he apparently spent at least some of his childhood in nearby Maryville where he received his earliest musical training. Happily, that local educational launch has proved quite successful. Covington has developed a solid reputation as an imaginative guest conductor, sought after recently with conducting gigs with the San Diego Symphony, San Francisco Ballet, Utah Symphony, and Tallahassee Symphony Orchestra.
Covington had an eclectic program to work with, starting with a work by contemporary composer Anna Clyne, This Midnight Hour. Clyne’s orchestral work in general is often said to be organic, but “accessible,” a description that certainly applies to this 12 minute work. The lower strings of the orchestra immediately went to work with the opening anxious passages that were inspired by “La Musica,” a poem by Juan Ramón Jiménez. The freneticism gives way to a number of moods comprised of solo and ensemble winds and brass, even somewhat mysteriously calling for two trumpets to retreat to the left and right back corners of the orchestra shell. And, yes, I wasn’t prepared for the sudden and unexpected bass drum hit that abruptly ends the work, seemingly mid passage.
For some reason, composer Robert Schumann has been something of a stranger in Knoxville concert halls over the last 15-20 years. Although his symphonies have received scattered performances during that period, I don’t believe that the KSO has performed his Piano Concerto in A minor. Because of this lapse, there was considerable anticipation for the concerto on last week’s program, adding to the intrigue in hearing both a conductor and a pianist—Janice Carissa—making their guest artist debut with the KSO in this monumental masterpiece.
From the very first measures, Carissa and Covington made their approach known. An orchestral explosion sent the piano off on a careening journey that introduces the beautifully gracious oboe theme. Throughout, what was most apparent, though, was how well conductor and soloist worked together, both in dynamics and in tempos. As a result, the listener was engaged and captured, at once a willing passenger along for a ride that presents dramatic moods—violence, retreat, and punctuation— to be traded back and forth between soloist and orchestra.
The Intermezzo movement was stunningly beautiful, passionate, and calming, although one expecting a typical slow movement will have to make mental adjustments. The transition into the finale, Allegro vivace, was handled with a modulated twist and a deliberate increase in energy that acts as a springboard for the movement. Carissa accepted the leap, bounding through the runs and bold statements with a clarity and virtuosity that was impressive. Schumann’s brilliant conclusion leaves one both satisfied and hungry for more.
Covington concluded the evening in stunning fashion with what some accurately term “a concerto for orchestra,” Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. A programmatic story drawn from the ancient tales and carrying the sub-title Symphonic Suite after “A Thousand and One Nights”, the orchestration masterpiece is most notably a work of clever construction and variation, chock full of substantial solo roles for orchestra members.
As if an ominous warning, Scheherazade begins darkly, but soon introduces the instrumental textures and motifs that carry the character and flavor of the entire work. Setting the stage is the solo violin as the voice of Scheherazade, taken by Concertmaster William Shaub. His superb performance began with a silken tone and impeccable technique, but became the narrator, weaving a storyline of descriptive twists and turns that had its own language. Shaub’s final epilogue solo was simply sublime, its delivery reaching out with the most poignant and gentle of musical tendrils. Of course, the other instrumental voices masterfully took up the suite’s motifs and filled in the storyline: oboe (Claire Chenette), horn (Jeffery Whaley), flute (Devan Jaquez), clarinet (Gary Sperl), bassoon (Duncan Henry), and cello (Andy Bryenton).
Covington was especially masterful in Scheherazade’s pacing and dynamics, obviously unafraid to release the orchestra to dramatic levels of volume in its most heated moments of passion. Nor did he hesitate to challenge the orchestra with the softest of statements. Altogether, this made for a delicious feast for the orchestra and a magical evening for the audience.
