For well over a century, American composers have sought to establish their works as part of the core repertory of American orchestras. Even though many orchestras across the country reflect this in their programming, it’s still undeniable that the ratio of new American to old European pieces remains heavily tilted toward the latter.
This weekend’s Utah Symphony concert surprisingly features not one but four American works — two from the mid-20th century and two from the end. Why is that — and what do these scores say about the development of our country’s unique musical sound?
Searching for an American sound
In the early 20th century, an important group of American composers was intently focused on creating a “national music” — a sound that would uniquely represent the temperament and individuality of America while rivaling the masterpieces of their European counterparts.
The eminent British composer Ralph Vaughan Williams reinforced the idea of creating a national music during his first visit to the United States in 1922. Speaking to a friend, he predicted that “American music would eventually emancipate itself, as the English had already done, from foreign domination.”
“In 25 years, you should have a school of native composers like ours today,” he said.
Catalyzed by war and depression
The effort to cultivate American music was hastened in the ’30s by the social and economic conditions of the Great Depression era, which evoked in some composers a decidedly populist turn away from European elitism toward a more open, democratic form of expression — one that would draw from and speak to the character of a nation of immigrants for whom equality was the essential, self-evident virtue.
As the drumbeat of totalitarianism began to suffocate the European musical scene, these American composers seized the moment. To them, Europe’s political and cultural collapse became their opportunity to assume, in the words of Roger Sessions, “responsibility for the future of music.”
A series of musical works that followed were pivotal in defining the American sound, none more important than the middle-period compositions of Aaron Copland. Using his trademark open harmonies and the rhythms choreographers like Martha Graham found so fitting for their modern ballets, he wrote a six-year string of successes beginning in 1938 that included, among others, “Billy the Kid,” “Rodeo,” “Lincoln Portrait,” “Fanfare for the Common Man” and “Appalachian Spring” — each a classic in its own right.
One of the composers in Copland’s circle was his contemporary Roy Harris, of whom Copland said he was “more frequently played, more praised, and more condemned than any other living American composer.” Copland believed strongly in the Americanness of Harris’ work, calling it “music of real sweep and breadth” that had “power and emotional depth such as only a generously built country could produce.”
Harris’ “Symphony No. 3,” composed in 1939, is his best-known work, and the distinguished guest conductor David Robertson will resurrect it this weekend at Abravanel Hall. From its brooding opening, the work takes us through pastoral landscapes; a climactic, folksy fugue; and the demanding, steady beat of a single timpani pitch that drives the piece to its dramatic, minor-chord conclusion.
Paired with the Harris is Elliott Carter’s “Holiday Overture.” Composed to honor the liberation of Paris in 1944, its bold, brassy optimism represents an America that could see the war in Europe was coming to its inexorable conclusion.
The emergence of minimalism
The two decades after World War II saw tremendous changes in America and in its music. Some composers pursued an experimental approach, such as John Cage’s pieces for prepared piano or his scores that left elements of his compositions to chance. And the postwar music that was an outgrowth of Arnold Schoenberg’s 12-tone method, with its dissonant harmonies and pointillistic textures, established a dominant presence on both sides of the Atlantic.
Positioning itself as a reaction against both of these approaches, minimalism appeared in the ’60s. This was music built on seemingly endless repetitions of simple melodic patterns, with a constant, fast pulse on its surface and slow-moving modal harmonies underneath. It was a complete one-eighty break from established musical traditions; yet in its radical and raw dynamism, stripped of all elaboration, it was undeniably American.
Adams’ joyful concerto
Most frequently associated with composers Steve Reich and Philip Glass, a decade later, a third name appeared: John Adams. While the minimalist label fit his early music, his works have since carved their own stylistic path. Adams’ “Violin Concerto,” composed in 1993, is clear evidence of this — reflecting an American music vastly different from Harris’ Third Symphony.
Roy Harris said his rhythms were influenced by jazz, but those rhythms don’t have nearly the same energy we sense in the jazzy, blues-scale-infused, fiddle-sounding mélange of musical styles and motion that make up Adams’ concerto. Propelling us through an almost visceral display of aural dynamism, the last movement is an eight-minute, downright blindingly exuberant, nonstop musical thrill ride.
Adams’ concerto is one in which the violinist hardly ever stops playing, exacting every last ounce of commitment from the soloist, who in this case is Utah Symphony concertmaster Madeline Adkins. Adkins calls the piece a culmination of a “long process,” repeating and perfecting passages from what “is one of the most technically difficult pieces that I have ever played.”
Adams is, for her, “a national treasure,” someone who has a “pure joy for making music,” a joy Adkins has the task of conveying to her audience in the concerto’s country and rock ’n’ roll-tinged ending.
Rapture and communion
Clocking in at 12 minutes is Christopher Rouse’s “Rapture," composed in 2000. Rouse once acknowledged that many of his compositions are “associated with grief and despair,” but “Rapture” is a piece that looks “towards the light.”
By featuring these four works taken from a 60-year slice of our musical history, conductor David Robertson is reminding us of the significance of American music within the larger context of our nation’s 250th anniversary. As he recently stated, live concerts create a “communion” between the musicians and the audience, and the things that “American music brings in this communion are so wide and varied and essential to an understanding of America.”
They are of “huge importance if we’re to understand who we are, where we’ve come from and perhaps where we might go.”
Indeed, where will American music go? I think Robertson would agree that its definition will never be fixed. Rather, it is always adjusting and reframing itself in light of our time and place, reshaped by our understanding of ourselves and the world around us.
Aaron Copland was certainly right when he once said that “the whole history of music is a history of continuous change.”
For more information about this weekend’s concerts, see the Utah Symphony website.