Ruth’s Blog

Director-conductor Brad Dawson and the FHSU Jazz Ensembles performed a concert Thursday evening that had something good for fans of all ages—whether they call “good” cool or hot.  From the first notes of Mike Barone’s “Superslick,” used for years at the end of the “Tonight” show (Dawson asked us if we remembered Jack Paar), to the final cadences of Sammy Nestico’s “Magic Flea,” everyone, performers and audience alike, had a great time.

            After leading off with “Superslick,” Ensemble II performed several other selections, in my opinion most notably “Natalie’s Song,” a ballad with a wistful melody and good beat featuring Joe Doze on flugelhorn. In addition to Doze, the ensemble boasts several talented soloists, among them Levi Spicer, saxophone; Mark Turnquest, trombone; and Kelsey Spangler on drums.

            Ensemble I swung into action with Dave Barduhn’s arrangement of “Milestones” by Miles Davis, with Jon Yust on trumpet and Joel Zeiner on drums.  The tempo accelerated with Gordon Goodwin’s “Mueva Los Huesos” (shake your bones)—Brian Keller on alto sax and Ben Galloway on trombone were soloists in this lively number.

Ethan Kinderknecht on tenor sax and Yust on trumpet rose from the ensemble to get in some hot (or cool) licks with “Red Clay,” a jazz rock standard.  Keller on alto sax earned a handshake from conductor Dawson for his solo in Yoko Kanno’s “Tank,” a wild ride that Dawson said started out as the theme music for a Japanese animated series titled “Cowboy Bebop.”  This arrangement, by Eric Dannewitz, certainly did rock, bop and swing.  By then it was high time for intermission.

            Afterward the ensemble continued with a couple of gentler, kinder standards, John Coltrane’s “Impressions,” arranged by Mark Taylor, featuring Chad Foust on guitar and Frank Mantooth’s arrangement of Cole Porter’s “So in Love,” with a mellow solo from Yust on flugelhorn. 

            Kinderknecht on tenor sax and Keller on alto dueled so effectively in John Bambridge’s hot, hot, hot “Sax Alley” that they had to shake hands and make up at its conclusion.  In contrast, drummers Zeiner and Austin Barnes got along so well in “Spanish Fire” by Michael Philip Mossman that the rest of the band stood there chortling while Dawson had to signal the cue for them all to get on with it with a rather heavier hand than usual.  The last number, “Magic Flea” roused the audience to fever pitch and a standing ovation for a concert that really cooked (froze?).  Anyway, it was fun.

            The next event in the FHSU series will be the recital of Benjamin Morris-Cline, cello, Nov. 17, 7:30 p.m. in Palmer Hall in Malloy Hall on the FHSU campus.

            Saturday evening’s concert of the Hays Symphony Orchestra was like a breath of fresh air. Instead of a hodgepodge of seemingly random selections, their program made sense both musically and intellectually.  Moreover, they introduced works by three important American composers. One, Charles Ives, was ahead of his time.  Two, John Corigliano and Terry Riley, are leading innovators of contemporary music.  And, as if this weren’t enough, they performed in the First Presbyterian Church, whose modern architecture, designed by local artist John Thorns, provided a stylistically and acoustically ideal setting. 

            Conductor Benjamin Morris-Cline led the orchestra in the opening selection, “Divertimento in D” (K. 136), an early work for strings by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.  The string section performed its many quickly repeated motifs with apparent ease, giving the playful nature of the piece its due.  Corigliano’s “”Voyage for String Orchestra” (1978) followed, featuring another kind of repetition, a refrain, or repetition that forms boundaries between different sections of text or music.  Corigliano is well known for his wit in composing consciously retro works and “Voyage” is no exception.  Its lushly Romantic music, reeking with the heady aroma of poppies and pot, is based on a poem by Baudelaire with the refrain “There is nothing else but grace and measure, richness, quietness and pleasure” (program note, translation from French by Richard Wilbur). 

            The orchestra closed this part of the concert with Benjamin Britten’s “Simple Symphony” for string orchestra,  which, like the Mozart, is both a youthful composition and deliciously playful.

After intermission the string choir was joined by guest conductor Jeff Jordan, the flute choir and the percussion section, with soloists Jon Yust, trumpet and Amanda Pfenninger, piano and harpsichord.  They began with an early experimental work by Charles Ives, “The Unanswered Question” (1906), in which the trumpet and flutes mimic human voices dissonant with anxiety, while the strings just go rolling harmoniously along like, well, “Ol’ Man River.”

            Perhaps the highlight of the evening was “In C” (1964) by Terry Riley.  This is not the first minimalist work—this honor goes to La Monte Young’s “For Brass” (1957)–but it is certainly one of the best.  Tonality here is a joke—it is called “In C” only because the piano continuously plays the two highest “C’s” on the keyboard throughout the piece.  Meanwhile, the other instruments, stationed by ones and twos around the hall, play “a collection of 53 phrases independently and repeated an arbitrary number of times” (program note).  Since the performers decided “when to move on to the next phrase,” there was no need for a conductor. (Concertmaster Matt Means gave the cue to stop.)  Curiously, the music had a hypnotic, somewhat disorienting effect upon me—I even started humming C-scales just to keep grounded.  As a contrast to the random character of “In C,” the concert ended with J.S. Bach’s “Third Brandenburg Concerto,” one of the most tightly structured works in the repertoire, performed elegantly by a select group of strings, with Pfenninger at the harpsichord.

            Everyone in the audience gave appropriate kudos to Morris-Cline, Jordan, soloists, orchestra and the First Presbyterian Church for a splendid and refreshing concert.  The next Hays Symphony Concert will be the Holiday Pops Concert Dec. 5, 7:30 p.m. at Beach/Schmidt.

The Fort Hays Singers, Concert Choir and Wind Ensemble gave two and a half concerts yesterday evening–the separate parts did not often mix. The Wind Ensemble provided a dramatic general introduction with “East Wind” by William O. Smith, a modern work composed partly of “chance techniques, while taking spatial advantage of the performance hall” (program note).  After the audience had been seated, some of the members of the group formed a circle around the auditorium while director Jeff Jordan conducted from its center.   

            The Fort Hays Singers then took over, sounding as good as ever despite heavy losses through graduation.  Also as ever, they sang complex music from several traditions without accompaniment and entirely from memory.  Everyone chuckled at their closing number, “My Bonnie Lass She Smelleth” by P.D.Q. Bach (1807-1742—conductor Terry Crull pointed out P.D.Q. lived his life backward–of course, we all know P.D.Q. is a fictional character created more than forty years ago by composer Peter Schickele). 

            One of the highlights of the concert was the performance of Franz Josef Haydn’s “Missa Brevis Sti. Joannis de Deo” (Short Mass of St. John of God, composed for the religious order the saint founded) by the Concert Choir and the FHSU Strings, with soloists Amanda Pfenninger, soprano and Tom Meagher, organ.  Crull led everyone in this; Matt Means conducts the Strings.  The Latin text of this Mass is hard to understand—since everyone in Haydn’s audience knew all the words anyway, the choir frequently sings several different lines simultaneously.  But the music is glorious and the choir, strings and soloists did it full justice despite a major disruption.  Pfenninger had just begun the “Benedictus” (Blessed is he…) when one of the tenors fainted, fell off the riser with a loud thump, and had to be carried out by several other choir members.  Everyone else, professionals all, continued the Mass without interruption.  Fortunately, at last report the tenor had suffered only a small cut and was otherwise in good shape.

            After a short intermission the Wind Ensemble returned with several selections, two of which highlighted this part of the concert.  The first was “Whoosh!” by conductor Jeff Jordan. Jordan wrote in an e-mail, “This will be the second performance.  The first was in 2007 at the High Plains Band Camp with the camp Honor Band. It’s a big fanfare-like work, but there are also some moments of lyricism.” 

            The second highlight was Frank Ticheli’s “An American Elegy,” written, according to the composer’s program note, “in memory of those who lost their lives at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999, and to honor the survivors.”  As it was performed here, singers introduced the Columbine Alma Mater from the balcony. Then the ensemble, with soloists Jonathan Yust, offstage trumpet; and Brian Keller, alto sax, performed the “Elegy,” a lyrical and moving work containing a quotation of the Alma Mater.  The entire concert earned standing applause from most of the audience.

            The next event in the FHSU series will be the Hays Symphony Orchestra, Nov. 7, 8 p.m. at the Presbyterian Church.

            Last fall’s production of ”Talking With” at the Hays Arts Council proved so successful that it has been adopted by the Russell Community Theatre and is now playing at the Russell Elks Lodge. There were no production problems with the move–Hays had borrowed some of the sets and all of the costumes from Russell in the first place.  A few of last year’s performers were unavailable, but for the most part the cast is the same.

            The stagings are simple, but the show is not.  Even the identity of “Jane Martin,” pseudonym of the author of “Talking With…” is a mystery. One thing is certain, though. Martin understands very well how to create psychologically complex women whose “lot is not a happy one.” 

Ten women, who, as Meder once said, “have been marked” by the hardships of life, share their stories with the audience. The women reveal their inmost thoughts in brief, but shattering, monologues.  Most of the characters are just mildly warped, but a few are insane, armed and dangerous. The wretched condition of one, a woman suffering intensely in labor (played by Erin Renard), might be temporary. 

Among the harmlessly eccentric are the actress who yearns to make friends with the audience (Andrea Rackaway); the housewife who flees to Oz to escape a life of drudgery (Debra Creamer); a daughter working through her grief at her mother’s death (Krystle Krug, new this year); an elderly woman “succored and sustained” by light (me, Ruth Firestone);  an evangelical snake handler who’s got the spirit (Jessica McGuire, new this year); and another elderly woman seeking immortality at MacDonald’s (Nancy Selbe, new this year).

Be prepared to flee for your life from the desperate actress ready to kill for a part (Samantha Butler). The maimed and mystic baton-twirler (Stefanie Stevens) is more likely to hurt herself than you, but it’s probably safer to keep your distance. Most important: do not accept any help from the tattooed lady (Brenda Meder).

“Talking with…” runs Tuesday, Oct. 13 through Saturday, Oct. 17 at 8 p.m. at the Russell Elks Lodge, 510 S. Front St.  Tickets, $6, are available only at the door.

I am glad to report that the antics of five manic nuns who escaped with their lives from leprosy, cannibals and Sister Julia Child of God’s vichyssoise are still producing plenty of good, healthy belly laughs nearly twenty-five years after “Nunsense” opened off-Broadway.  The production by the FHSU Fringe Theatre, which runs tonight through Sunday, is the second since 1996 and might be even funnier (I can’t say for sure, since I essayed the role of Mother Superior in 1996 and, anyway, as my grandmother always said, “Comparisons are odious”).

The show inspires and demands the best of everyone and they have all risen to the occasion.  Director/choreographer Jennifer Rajewski has assembled and drilled a talented cast to give a performance that is little short of professional. Bruce Bardwell has completely revamped the set he designed in 1996, but it is still the set of “Grease” (the sisters are supposedly holding a benefit show in the auditorium of Mount St. Helen’s school so they can afford to bury the last four victims of vichyssoise).  A coffin, alleged to be one of four, greets theater-goers in the lobby.  Music Director Terry Crull not only coached the many vocal numbers, but, as Father Terry, leads a small, but effective combo (Brandon Worf, drums; Joann Gaunt, reeds; Pam McGowne, keyboard) at stage right.  And these are not, as one sister puts it, “plainclothes nuns.”  Costumer Rebecca Jaquay designed their habits to look like habits.  All but Sister Robert Ann, a former tough kid from Canarsie, wear black sneakers.  Robert Ann wears scuffed black leather motorcycle boots. I’ve never seen even a plainclothes nun in sneakers, let alone boots, but then, I’ve never seen nuns dancing around like Rockettes, either.

But the nuns are the ones who carry the show (not counting Sister Myopia, archery instructor and lighting expert, also known as Jeremy Wann).  Mother Superior, played by Jessica Ammel, dances up a storm, acts convincingly and sings well, too.  Stacey Rathert steals the show with her animated dancing, acting and singing, especially in the next-to-last number, “Holier than Thou.”  Trista Pruett does her best with Robert Ann, gamely keeping up with the dance steps and faking a Brooklyn accent. She comes into her own, though, with a beautifully sung rendition of “Growing up Catholic.” Stefanie Stevens gets in some fine ballet twirls as Sister Leo, a novice who wants to be the first nun ballerina. (Is her hilarious performance as “The Dying Nun” a sign of humility, or what?)  And then there’s poor, childlike Sister Amnesia, well played by Vanessa North, a real trouper who doesn’t have the operatic voice needed for the role, but smiles and plays it to the hilt anyway.

“Nunsense” runs tonight, Friday and Saturday at 7:30, Sunday at 2:30 in Felten-Start Theatre in Malloy Hall on the FHSU campus. Tickets are available at the door. For reservations and other information please call the FHSU box office at 785-628-4225.  And plan to attend the next Fringe Theatre production, Noel Coward’s “Blithe Spirit,” Dec. 3-6.

            The L.A. Theatre Works began this year’s FHSU Encore Series with a production of H.G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds” and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “The Lost World” that pretended to be old-time radio broadcasts of the two stories. Almost all of the action was narrated, not seen on the stage.  Actors played multiple roles and used some interesting objects for sound effects.  Otherwise there was little resemblance to a radio show— the actors moved about on the stage, used props, and wore costumes. The set consisted of microphones strategically located at different levels, theatrical lighting and a projected backdrop.  I thoroughly enjoyed the performance, but it received only tepid applause from most of the audience that nearly filled Beach/Schmidt.  Perhaps they thought the “radio broadcast” concept was just a gimmick to save expenses on a tour.

“War of the Worlds” used the script of Orson Welles’ 1938 Mercury Theatre of the Air radio broadcast.  This was the broadcast that, performed on Halloween and cleverly conceived as an interruption of a dance music program, caused many people to believe that the earth was actually being invaded by Martians who intended to rule the world.    The panic is usually attributed to a combination of causes—the deliberate failure to inform listeners that the story was fiction; the poor state of the economy; the threat of war against Germany and Japan; even the mood created by Halloween.

Today, this story is incapable of suspending our disbelief.  Television has damaged our ability to visualize narrated events by using our own imaginations.  Only seeing is believing. And that might be why, despite some very fine acting, “War of the Worlds” fell flat.  What most of us saw was a group of actors bathed in blue light moving around the stage, simulating noises with old coffee cans and sticks.  Or maybe we have experienced the dirty work of so many real life monsters that a few from Mars leave us cold.

“The Lost World,” done, as the program note suggests, in “campy” style, was somewhat more successful. Not only was it funny, but it called for audience participation.   signs told us when to clap and when to “boo.”  Hand signals indicated when we should say “I” and when we should roar.  The story is “Jurassic Park” and “King Kong” put together.  A group of explorers travels up the Amazon to find a world inhabited by prehistoric beasts and a few wild men, not the least of whom is their hilarious and treacherous guide. The rest of the cast sported mock British accents. Everyone wore an outlandish costume.  For a radio show, sight gags abounded.  The hero and heroine signal togetherness by wearing argyle socks, he with knickers, she with a floral print dress and spike heels. An ape man appears with a Poirot moustache, bones dangling from his nose, wearing a diaper. And there are other funny moments.  When the sexy heroine, a famous scientist, challenges a stuffed-shirt professor, he reacts in shock and horror, “You’re a Woman!”   The ape man speaks a ridiculous language.  The hairy and treacherous guide, mortally wounded, gets out a few bars of the “Londonderry Air” and other noxious ditties before they dispatch him for good.  The sound effects were also amusing—shots were simulated by slapping two wood blocks together; umbrellas opening and closing created the flapping wings of a pterodactyl; the sound of a ship’s horn came through what looked like a length of dryer vent hose.

But, much as I liked it, “The Lost World” was not a great hit with many others in the audience either.  No one even thought of standing applause—only standing up to go home.

The next event in the FHSU Encore Series is “In the Mood: a 1940’s musical revue,” Oct. 19 and 20, 7:30 p.m. in Beach/Schmidt.  For tickets please call 785-628-5306.

“Allégresse” means joy in French.  In a concert sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts,  flutist Annie Gnojek, oboist  Margaret Marco, and pianist Ellen Bottorff, known collectively as the Allégresse Trio, demonstrated that they are eminently worthy of the name. They performed superbly and obviously enjoyed collaborating with each other while entertaining the crowd gathered Wednesday evening in FHSU’s Palmer Hall. Their program was geared to promote understanding of how modern music is composed.  It began and ended with clever deconstruction and reweaving of old favorites. In between, they performed three new and interesting compositions by contemporary composers that they had commissioned. Compositions that also consisted of  un- and rewoven strands of melody.  And, to make the evening even more intriguing, two of the three composers were present to comment briefly on their work. 

            Five “Miniatures” by William Grant Still, deconstructions of the likes of “I Ride an Old Paint” and “A Frog Went A-Courtin’” got the concert off to a cheerful start.  This was followed by “There are Things to be Said,” introduced by its composer, Ingrid Stölzel.  She compared “Things” to a Haiku verse—and, indeed, the music was direct and simple, yet expressive, and the whole was more than the sum of its parts.

            Composer Bryan Kip Haaheim then commented on   “Halo” by assuring us, “I try to let the music speak for itself—I don’t analyze it.”  Later, though, he defined “halo” as “personal radiance.”   I found the music pleasing, and it was my husband Robert’s favorite of the evening.  He praised it highly, saying “it not only allows the instruments to blend effectively, but also enhances their individual voices.”

            Gabriela Lena Frank was not present for “Canto y Danza for Flute, Oboe, and Piano,” but the distinct Latin-American flavor and lively tempo of her work “spoke for itself.”

            The evening wound up with “Guillaume Tell Duo Brillant,” an irresistible and witty set of variations on Rossini’s “William Tell Overture” by the nineteenth-century French composers Jules Demerssman and Felix Charles Berthelemy. The piece reminded me of Charles Ives’s “Variations on America.”  Not only was it similarly composed, but you could just see the composers chortling to themselves about their own cleverness. The trio’s breathtaking performance of this spectacular and spectacularly difficult composition left no doubt that we had enjoyed a rare treat: they rocked.

We just spent a week in New York attending performances of Richard Wagner’s “Ring des Nibelungen” (here’s a photo of me outside the Metropolitan Opera house in Lincoln Center). I won’t bore you by criticizing the performances, but instead will try to explain why so many people love the “Ring,”  unwieldy though it is.

The Ring is actually four operas: Rheingold (gold in the Rhine river); Die Walkuere (the Valkyrie); Siegfried; and Goetterdaemmerung (twilight of the Gods).  The operas form a cycle,  “Der Ring des Nibelungen” (the ring of the Nibelung). The name comes from Germanic folklore. Originally Nibelungs were dwarfs who guarded a subterranean hoard that included the gold that eventually formed the ring.  In the operas a Nibelung dwarf named Alberich forges the ring from a lump of gold; the title designates him, not the whole clan. The ring is the central motivating factor in the operas, and also has symbolic and structural value. Rings symbolize eternity. Structurally, the plot and the music make a full circle, beginning and ending with the gold in its proper place—the Rhine river, waiting for a new cycle to begin. 

 The Ring cycle does not deserve its rather shady reputation.  People think of it as an interminable device of sadistic torture, written only for nazis, snobs, masochists and nerds—John Mortimer’s unforgettable barrister Horace Rumpole voiced the majority opinion when, duped into attending a Wagner performance, he groaned, “twenty hours of unmitigated Wagner.” 

Though there are some ethnic slurs–for instance, Siegfried, a great hero but no mental giant, dislikes Mime, a Nibelung, because he looks different from him–it is none of these things. Like J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings,” it is a gripping, suspenseful drama that covers a vast length of time—from primordial darkness to the redemption of humankind–and a huge stretch of space–vertical space in the Ring—from the depths of the Rhine to Valhalla, the home of the gods, somewhere over the rainbow. As in Tolkien’s epic, whoever owns the ring rules the world, but becomes vulnerable to all who want to steal it or take it by force. Also as in Tolkien’s epic, bizarre characters abound.  There are dwarfs and giants, gods and heroes, dragons, toads and flying horses, human beings of all descriptions—smart, stupid, good, bad, young, old, beautiful and ugly.  (Tolkien’s Gollum/Smigel is very similar to Wagner’s slimy Nibelungs Alberich and Mime. And not an elf, but a Valkyrie, or warrior goddess renounces immortality for love of a human.) 

But Wagner’s operas have at least two dimensions that Tolkien’s novels lack. Music is by far the most important of these. Wagner developed a special technique of composition:  every character and every important event has what Anna Russell called in jest “a signature tune” (“The Ring of the Nibelungs: An Analysis,” available on YouTube). The combination and recombination of signature tunes, or “Leitmotive,” as Wagner called them, is as essential as dialogue in developing the plot. (We understand this kind of composition better today than they did in Wagner’s time.  The reason is, when German and Austrian composers refugeed to this country to escape nazi persecution, many found jobs writing scores for Hollywood movies.  All of them used Wagner’s technique of composition to underscore developments in movie plots.  So we’ve had time to get used to it.) And Wagner’s music is even more effective.  It casts a spell—hours pass and seem like minutes.

         Sex is nearly lacking in Tolkien, but abounds in the Ring, which is often reminiscent of a bad soap opera. There are two incestuous couples. Siegmund and Sieglinde, children of Wotan, the head God, thus brother and sister, fall desperately in love at first sight.  Their relationship is also adulterous, since  Sieglinde is married to a boorish oaf named Hunding.  Siegfried, the son of Siegmund and Sieglinde, falls in love with Brunnhilde, another daughter of Wotan, a Valkyrie and Siegfried’s aunt.  The two are betrayed into abandoning each other.  Siegfried is given a potion that makes him forget Brunnhilde.  He then falls in love with Gudrun, a pretty face with naught behind it, while Brunnhilde  is  forced to marry a weakling she despises. Poor Wotan, a henpecked husband at home, descends from Valhalla from time to time to consort with the Goddess of the Earth.

          I said I wouldn’t review the Met’s performances, but there are nonetheless two features that I’d like to mention here, since they had a lot to do with changing my mind about the Ring.  The first is the production by Otto Schenk, with set and projection designs by Guenther Schneider-Siemssen.  They call this a “naturalistic” approach, but, face it, you can’t have naturalistic dragons, Rhine maidens, giants, rings of fire, or any of the other mythological trappings required for these operas.  What it is is often just plain  thrilling–the waves of the Rhine–Valhalla high on a mountain, approached via a rainbow bridge–the final plunge of the Gods into oblivion. Sometimes it’s more than a little comic, like Alberich and Fafner as dragons, or the lurching awkwardness of the giants Fasolt and Fafner. And twice, at the very beginning and end, when complete darkness covers the world, it is downright eerie.  (The eminent critic Joseph Horowitz felt less positive about the production, calling it “sanitized,” also “closer to Walt Disney than contemporary Bayreuth.”) (Classical Music in America: A History, 2005; New York: Norton, 2007, p. 500.)  I guess I’m tuned to react to Disneyfication–one of my earliest memories of the movies is of my father carrying me out squalling and bawling during the “Night on Bald Mountain” sequence of Fantasia (1940).

         The second feature was the amazing performance of Katarina Dalayman, who played Brunnhilde in Die Walkuere and Goetterdaemmerung. It was amazing because she looked, acted and sang this nearly impossible role to absolute perfection.    In the course of it she matured from a carefree young woman to a strong woman willing to do right in all circumstances–she never “just follows orders.” Simultaneously, she is capable of immense, burning love, not only passion for Siegfried, but true charity for the human race, for whose salvation she sacrifices her life.  Dalayman got a good break by doing only Walkuere and Goetterdaemmerung, because she got a good rest in between, also because the Siegfried Brunnhilde was not nearly as capable.  Even so, Brunnhilde is very difficult to sing–it is unendingly long, has an enormous range and runs the gamut from a whisper to a scream.  From beginning to end, Dalayman showed no sign of fatigue or strain, and sang every note just as Wagner and James Levine intended (or maybe even better).  By the way, I have an idea why Wagner might have written such a showcase for Brunnhilde.  In the Nibelungenlied, a medieval epic from which Wagner drew some of his material, the other woman, there called Kriemhild, gets most of the attention, while poor Brunnhild is duped and neglected.  So Wagner possibly wanted to give Brunnhild a chance to get even.

        I hope I get to experience the Ring again–but this will require a trip to one coast or another–no inland opera company can possibly afford to mount such a show as this–certainly not in this kind of style. 

      After a somewhat lackluster mid-semester concert, a revitalized FHSU Symphonic Winds and Wind Ensemble returned Friday evening with an awesome performance of a program chock full of humor, pathos, jazz and just plain fun.  Kudos to Symphonic Winds conductor Lane Weaver, student conductor Jonathan Yust (winner of the prestigious Lyle Dilley Award) and Wind Ensemble conductor Jeff Jordan for putting it all together.

     I am glad to report the FHSU Symphonic Winds has been immensely improved by the addition of members with more experience.  After a cheerful prelude, they launched into the first two movements of Frank Ticheli’s “Cajun Folk Songs II.” The slow, somewhat melancholy first movement featured oboe solos by Ace Kim. The second, after an odd, dissonant introduction, resolves into some jolly reels.  Kim; Matthew Baker, trombone; and Nathan Frye, trumpet, did the honors on this.  Yust then elegantly conducted “Rhosymedre” or “Lovely” by Ralph Vaughan Williams, based on a hymn by J.D. Edwards (Rhosymedre is a village in Wales). The Winds closed their set with John P. Zdechlik’s “Chorale and Shaker Dance,” a version of the hymn “Simple Gifts” made famous by Aaron Copland in “Appalachian Spring.”  Zdechlik’s version is notable for its unusual instrumentation, which includes a saxophone solo, performed here by Brian Keller. The group earned standing applause.

            The Wind Ensemble hit its stride with the amazing “Bugs” by Roger Cichy.  The program note quotes Cichi, who rightly thought that “giving a musical personality” to bugs “seemed humorous, inventive and capricious all at the same time.” From the prelude on, the work cheeps, buzzes, rattles, bubbles, hisses, creeps, snaps, glides and marches—this last in homage to Prokofiev.  Soloists Dayna Ball, piano; Alexis Korbe, flute and piccolo; Makenzi Rempe, clarinet; Keller, saxophone; Jon Yust, trumpet; Keysha Urie, horn; and the whole percussion section valiantly led the swarm.

            Trumpeter Brad Dawson, ably abetted by Nick Foust, bass, and the ensemble, soloed with “Elegy for Miles Davis,” the second movement of Richard Rodney Bennett’s “Concerto for Trumpet and Wind Orchestra.” Dawson played this complex, muted/unmuted blues melody as though he’d been born knowing and loving it.     

           After recognizing graduating seniors and praising accounting major Keysha Urie for having done well as principal horn this year, Jordan introduced an addition to the program, “Godspeed” by Stephen Melillo, in honor of Chris Barlow, trombone, who has already served in Iraq and who will be deployed again in the fall.  Barlow, visibly moved and delighted by a fervent performance, rose with the soloists at Jordan’s nod.    

           The concert could have ended right there with huge success, but the ensemble bade us a merry farewell with an arrangement by Yo Goto of “Funiculi-funicula Rhapsody” by Luigi Denza featuring tubas, a nice flute obligato, and at least three false, ever-noisier climaxes, with conductor Jordan doing a twitch and stomp on the podium.  Godspeed, everyone!