There were two distinctly different concerts performed on Friday evening. The first, presented before intermission, rippled with excitement, power and energy. The second, presented after intermission, was somewhat leaden and uninspired.
Two things appeared to contribute to the dramatic shift towards languor. Most noticeable was the music itself. Though Vincent Persichetti's large-scale symphony and Cichy's Divertimento were programmed as the evening's major works, they weren't nearly as satisfying as were the pieces of Prokofiev, Mahr, and Byrd (via Gordon Jacob's galvanizing arrangement). In addition, there was the dreaded intermission slump which can inexplicably pop up even with the most experienced ensemble. The musicians simply lost the razor-sharp edge that had distinguished the earlier selections and the music wasn't strong enough to stand on its own until the slump shook itself off.
Persichetti's full symphonic creation, to mention the least fulfilled expectation first, has suffered largely from the passing of time. In 1956, the four-movement work was probably hailed as a major piece composed rather than merely transcribed for the then burgeoning band movement. Forty years later, with the rapidly approaching millennium providing perspective on our entire "modern" era from Debussy to Glass, Persichetti's landmark sounded curiously dated, filled with tinges of "beatnik" percussion, Bernard Hermann-esque cinematic styling, and obvious influences from Stravinsky, Copland, and Vaughan Williams. For the historian of true band-conceived music the symphony remains and sounded like a valued bit of history. Without a totally committed and fully involved performance, however, it made for a comparatively tame musical experience.
Cichy's Divertimento suffered on different grounds. By the time Persichetti's work finished, conductor and band had rediscovered the magnificent groove they had been in earlier but the music only seemed to half-merit the effort. The first two movements contained some interesting moments, but lacked compositional focus and direction, too frequently sounding contemporary for the sake of sounding contemporary. "Remembrance" and "Salutation", though, were indeed memorably superb both in performance and in conception. Beauty and vibrancy distinguished each, casting a warm, positive glow in lyrical passages and a jazzy Bernstein-inspired sense of life to the upbeat passages. Thus the evening returned to the glory with which it had begun.
And what glory it initially was. The very first measures of Prokofiev's March could have powered all of New Brunswick with the energy generated on stage. Virile music passed by in explosive burst of melody and rhythmic thrust, letting up only occasionally to permit the enthralled audience and edge-of-the-seat musicians to take much needed breaths.
Timothy Mahr's Soaring Hawk was perhaps the evening's greatest success. The winner of the 1991 ABA/Ostwald Award, the delicate composition demonstrated the strides composers have made in building upon earlier essays for band by composers such as Persichetti. From beginning to end, this was a work conceived for winds and percussion. Sensitive melodic lines and imagery-inspiring harmonies allowed players to soar as exquisitely and as majestically as would Mahr's entitled raptor. Special mention needs be made of pianist Rica Manas's ultra-sensitive interpretation of the keyboard part. The concluding phrases could easily have come off as simple and elegant if just played as written. Allowed by conductor William Berz to play without cues or baton direction, the pianist allowed the final lines to sing with sensitivity and poignancy.
The big popular hit was Gordon Jacob's admittedly free transcription of William Byrd's four hundred-year-old virginal tone poem The Battell. While Elizabethan purists might frown at the Elgarization of Byrd, music enthusiasts heartily applauded a performance as gripped with the spir-it of fun, splendor, camaraderie, and sheer enjoyment of life, as must have gripped Byrd and his late Renaissance companions.
