Christopher Theofanidis:  Rainbow Body (2000)
First Performance:  Houston Symphony Orchestra, Robert Spano (conductor):  Houston,  April 2000
Background and Program Notes are provided from the composer’s website (www.theofanidismusic.com):

Rainbow Body was the coming together of two ideas:  one, my fascination with Hildegard of Bingen's music (the principal melody of Rainbow Body is loosely based on one of her chants, "Ave Maria, O Auctix Vite"), and two, the Tibetan Buddhist idea of "rainbow body," which is that when an enlightened being dies physically, his or her body is absorbed directly back into the universe as energy, as light.  This seemed to me to be the metaphor for Hildegard's music as much as anything.

In the past few years, I have been listening to the music of medieval mystic Hildegard von Bingen a great deal, and as simple and direct as this music is, I am constantly amazed by its staying power.  Hildegard's melodies have very memorable contours which set them apart from other chants of the period.  They are wonderfully sensual and set up a very intimate communication with the divine.  This work is based on one of her chants, 'Ave Maria, o auctrix vite' (Hail Mary, source of life).

Rainbow Body begins in an understated, mysterious manner, calling attention to some of the key intervals and motives of the piece.  When the primary melody enters for the first time about a minute into the work, I present it very directly in the strings without accompaniment.  In the orchestration, I try to capture a halo around this melody, creating a wet acoustic by emphasizing the lingering reverberations one might hear in an old cathedral.

Although the piece is built essentially around fragments of the melody, I also return to the tune in its entirety several times throughout the work, as a kind of plateau of stability and peace within an otherwise turbulent environment.  Rainbow Body has a very different sensibility from the Hildegard chant, with a structure that is dramatic and developmental, but I hope that it conveys at least a little of my love for the beauty and grace of her work.

Rainbow Body is dedicated to Glen Rosenbaum, without whose support and encouragement I would not be composing.

Chris Brubeck: Confluence: Double Concerto for Classical Guitar, Blues Guitar and Orchestra Program Notes have been provided by the composer for these World Premiere performances:

While composing the 1st movement of Confluence titled “Sunrise; Streams of Consciousness,” I had an image in mind — a lazy shaft of light glides through the trees and reflects off the still backwaters of the Mississippi. Bit by bit the current increases and the music starts flowing downstream, picking up tempo and attitude as it wanders towards a more “citified” destination. A rhythmic pulse is gradually introduced, and Classical music styles and textures are left upstream as more urban and contemporary beats emerge.

I was encouraged by a member of the orchestra to put into the musical parts and score words which described what mood I was going for as I wrote. Some traditional Italian musical terms like “Misterioso,” and “Tranquillo” are written in the orchestral parts, concurrent with the peaceful introduction. But later on, completely non-traditional musical terms are inserted in the parts; descriptive phrases like “transitioning from a fancy nightclub to a funky neighborhood bar." Not exactly a phrase coined by Verdi!

In the 2nd movement, “Adagio in Blues,” I wrote in the parts, “Imagine a nightclub at 2 a.m., last call and two soulful guitarists.” I know this terminology seems a bit odd, but fortunately, my compositions have resonated with audiences and performers, even though they are, or perhaps because they are, stylistically eclectic. This piece is no exception. The concerto culminates in a fiery 3rd movement, where odd-metered funk (7/8) and Jazz, plus a demanding Classical guitar cadenza, swirl into a musical whirlpool, morphing into a spirited Blues to reflect the movement’s title, “Cross Currents.”

When the idea of this new work was presented to me by the Memphis Symphony Music Director, Robert Moody, he asked me to write a double guitar concerto for Classical guitar and Blues guitar. That request was asking for stylistic duality right off the bat. The contrast in these two styles is dramatic. Some sections of the piece could only be played by a masterful Classical guitarist. Other parts are written to feature a Blues master, and are designed to turn the player loose, bringing all prior Blues knowledge into their improvisations. I come from a Jazz background, and I know there is nothing like the thrill (for the performer and the audience) of hearing a musical idea come to life for the first time right on the stage. In 1960, my father pioneered integrating spontaneous jazz improvisation with classically notated orchestral music. His first such collaboration was with Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic, “backing” the Dave Brubeck Quartet at Carnegie Hall. So I grew up knowing this so-called “Third Stream” music was possible and powerful. In modern times, the term “Third Stream” music has evolved into a mighty river of sound -- soulful and swinging. I am very fortunate that the Memphis Symphony had faith in me to build the musical vessel to carry these great musicians downriver to "Memphis: Home of Blues, Soul & Rock n Roll.”

I am excited to be back in Memphis for the premiere of "Confluence.” Strangely, even though I am from the East Coast, Memphis has had an important influence in my music career. I started out playing in creative Rock ’n Roll bands in the late 60’s, and my first major recording experience was with Jud Phillips (nephew of Sun Records founder Sam Phillips). Jud was a producer & engineer at The Sound Factory in Hollywood, and he produced our band, New Heavenly Blue, for RCA Records. Five years later, that band had evolved into a funky sextet called Sky King, and we were discovered and produced by legendary Memphis guitarist Steve Cropper. We recorded our LP, "Secret Sauce,” in Memphis, at T.M.I. Studios on Poplar Avenue. Eventually, the LP, “Secret Sauce,” came out to national acclaim on Columbia Records. More recently, in 2016, the Memphis Symphony, along with the Rhodes College Master Singers Chorale, conducted by Dr. William Skoog, performed my father’s Concert Mass, “To Hope.” Although a Classical piece, there are improvised jazz interludes, and I played them along with my brothers, Dan and Darius. At that same time, our family was thrilled, because the National Civil Rights Museum featured a special exhibit called "Dave Brubeck: Jazz Ambassador." My parents’ long-standing activism for equal rights for all resulted in them writing a thought-provoking musical for Louis Armstrong called “The Real Ambassadors.” It never went up on Broadway, but the cast recording on Columbia Records is regarded as a classic. In 2016, The Real Ambassadors was given a wonderful, jazzy performance by Opera Memphis at Playhouse on the Square. Last, but not least, our family was great friends with Tommie Pardue, longtime music educator, and a tireless arts crusader for the Memphis City School System. She brought a strong sense of connection to the greater Memphis community, and generously shared her enthusiasm with the Brubeck family for decades as we toured the world.

Modest Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition
First Performance (Ravel orchestration): Serge Koussevitsky (conductor): Paris, October 1922

Pictures at an Exhibition is probably Modest Mussorgsky’s most famous work, and was originally written for solo piano. Composed during June of 1874, the work was written as a memorial to Mussorgsky’s friend, artist and architect Viktor Hartmann. Despite several dozen orchestral recastings of Pictures in the 149 years since Mussorgsky wrote it, Maurice Ravel’s 1922 orchestration of the work (heard in these performances), remains by far the most popular of them all. Mussorgsky chose ten of Hartmann’s drawings and watercolours to musically depict in this work; six survive to the present day, and are easily accessed for viewing online. The work opens with a Promenade theme, which then recurs several times across the sequence of movements like a scarlet thread, thereby imparting an overall sense of unity to the whole. [NOTE: Ravel chose to omit one of those promenades (between movements six and seven)—a fact which displeased me greatly when I discovered it several years ago!!] Despite the size of the orchestra that Ravel has chosen to use—and it’s a big one—an enormous amount of restraint comes into play that brilliantly exploits the available tone colours; for example, the saxophone solo in “The Old Castle,” and the high tuba solo in “Bydlo.” This restraint, of course, disappears during the bell-saturated finale, “The Great Gate of Kyiv.”