Extenuating circumstances aside, this review of The Boulder Symphony’s final concert of the season is so long overdue that I post it a little sheepishly. But however belatedly I share my thoughts, the “Transcending Cultural Compasses” concert was exceptional in so many ways that I cannot let it go by unremarked upon. And so I now return you to your regularly scheduled column...
There were four pieces performed that evening (May 1st), and I begin with the last, because those notes are still whirling in my head. It was Scheherazade, that sensuous, sumptuous feast of notes written by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov in 1888. You may think that you have never heard Scheherazade, but you have—at least snippets of it—sipping chai in a teahouse, waiting for a massage at your favorite day spa, sitting in your cabin on The Orient Express, somewhere.
Boulder Symphony’s performance of Scheherazade was elevated even higher by the story of Scheherazade, the exotic Persian consort and ultimately, queen (or Sultana), of the Sultan Shahriar in the middle eastern tale “A Thousand and One Nights.” Told narrative form during musical pauses throughout the piece, the story of Scheherazade’s daring and imagination unfolds like a mystical breeze. Douglas Penick wrote and performed this version of how Scheherazade saved her own life and that of countless others by transforming the king through her tales, each one, every night, leaving him yearning for more. Every writer hopes for words that will bestir the hearts and minds of women and men, and Mr. Penick is blessed with that compelling talent. His words had the audience captivated and were a symbiotic dance with the music, which was played resplendently by the Symphony. And Penick is blessed with something else, as well, a dignified, almost noble countenance (highlighted by the crisp cut of a Nehru collar jacket similar to those the other major performers wore, too. Tres bon ton!). I would love to hear more from Douglas Penick; we’ll call him the Pasha of the evening.
The first piece of the concert was no less fascinating, a world premier, in fact, commissioned by The Boulder Symphony of Gregory T.S. Walker who plays, among other instruments, the electric violin. And it was this instrument that dominated his gorgeous work “Song of the Untouchable.” You can learn more about the origins of “Song of the Untouchable” in a previous article I wrote entitled “Boulder Symphony Transcends Cultural Compasses.” Mr. Walker is a local resident who has collaborated on several occasions with Boulder Symphony. A fascinating man, almost Arabian-looking himself—he danced about like a Jin on a magic carpet as he drew the most unique sounds from the violin, and not just from the strings; there was a great deal of tapping and…well he seemed to pull joy out of the prana and gift it back through his music.
Then came Colin Thurmond with his commissioned piece: “Concierto de Pampas for Guitar and Percussion.” This was also a world premiere. And if I may depart from the Arabian theme I have so carefully constructed for you, Mr. Thurmond has got to be Superman. First the glasses, then not, and the amazing strength of his talent—yes, he is Clark Kent/Superman, absolutely. It was a fabulous piece and very au courant. I could grow to love modern composing like this.
The only non-local performer in this ensemble was percussionist Rich Chwastiak (he played a Marimba!), who hails from New England where he is pursuing his Masters Degree at the New England Conservatory of Music. Mr. Chwastiak added the perfect pinch…oh, I gotta do it—of percussion that was the spark drawing all these pieces together and in to the realm of perfection, at least for this writer, who is endlessly awed by the talent that moves amongst us.
The third piece (and the last before Scheherazade) was Danzón No. 2 by Arturo Marquez. The Danzon is music with roots from Mexico; it is light and lively and joyful, like intricate dance steps. This piece, too, was beautiful. Beautiful in the way a soft question lingers on the air, the repetitive rhythms and intimate harmonies both asking and answering within the melodies.
Truly, I could wax long on these talented musicians and this very special concert. But as previously noted this review is already overdue. But one last thing. The Sultan of all things Boulder Symphony is of course Devin Patrick Hughes, who comports himself with such aplomb and has such charisma for one who is probably older (chronologically) than he appears—it almost gives one pause. (Okay, I am dancing around just saying it: Mr. Hughes looks SO young.) And then you have to look at all that talent and just think “WOW.”
The musicians of Boulder Symphony seem equal to any composition put before them; this is the second time I have been transported. And there you have it.
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