THE FLORIDA ORCHESTRA | 2019-2020 39
Program Notes
The overture simply overpowered the opera’s emotional
drama, muscling the opening scene, stealing thunder
from the action’s middle, and spoiling the surprise ending.
This was potent stuff, and soon took on a life of its own as
an orchestral work preceding the great single-movement
symphonic poems that echoed through much of the 19th
century.
At just over 12 minutes and crafted in sonata form, the
overture is a marvel of musical storytelling, capturing
the light-triumphs-darkness motif as well as anything
Beethoven ever wrote. He identified with the plight of
Florestan, the high-minded husband of Leonore who is
unjustly sentenced to isolation in a tyrant’s dungeon.
Disguised as a man (Fidelio), Leonore gains access to the
prison and frees her lover, setting in motion themes of injustice,
empowerment, good over evil, hope, and the exhilaration
of freedom.
MASON BATES (b. 1977 )
MOTHERSHIP
Duration: ca. 10 minutes
Last January, TFO gave many listeners their first taste
of a Grammy-winning composer from Virginia named
Mason Bates, who was born about the time our orchestra
was putting together its 10th anniversary season. Part
classical pundit, part disc jockey, Bates has developed
a compelling voice, writing music “in a real American
language,’’ according to TFO Music Director Michael
Francis. Proof was the Cello Concerto we enjoyed last
season, and knowing he was onto something, Francis
decided to bring back Bates for this weekend’s season
opener with an ear smacker called Mothership, a
combination of orchestra, techno, pop and swing.
“Mothership has been a phenomenal calling card for
me,’’ Bates said. “What’s interesting about this piece
is it’s been the gateway for so many orchestras to use
electronics, the first time they’re incorporating electronic
sounds into their concerts.’’
For those new to Bates, he composes outside the lines.
His club/classical project Mercury Soul transforms the
commercial dance venue into a hybrid musical event,
and his opera The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs is one of the
best-selling productions in the history of the Santa Fe
Opera.
Composer-in-residence at the Kennedy Center, Bates
is in demand by orchestras wanting to attract younger
audiences and build future repertoire, two of their
biggest challenges today, according to Musical America
Worldwide. But he isn’t composing just to attract a
younger audience; he wants to appeal to everyone who
steps into a concert hall, regardless of age.
“When I’m writing music for the concert hall I go after
what is the most pregnant musical possibility, not just
the outreach component (winning new audiences),’’ he
said. “Older subscribers go along because they can tell I
have roots in classical music. But I think listeners enjoy
the collision of an old medium with sounds that could
be on their iPod. With Mothership, the music has surface
newness and some real tethering to the symphonic
tradition.’’
Mothership was first performed in 2011 at the Sydney
Opera House and broadcast live on YouTube to nearly
2 million viewers. Much like Short Ride in a Fast Machine
by John Adams, the one-movement, 9-minute work
is a rhythmic tour de force that rockets off the stage
immediately. Bates describes it as an “action-packed,
electro-acoustic’’ feast for the senses that brings together
the formal symphonic scherzo used by Beethoven with
the edgy sounds of today. It can be performed with or
without a quartet of soloists.
MAURICE RAVEL (1875-1937)
BOLERO
Duration: ca. 15 minutes
Ravel was a small man, precise in routine, well-groomed
and impeccable in manners and dress. His musical tastes
leaned toward traditional form and structure when much
of the world around him was genuflecting over Wagner or
rioting in the streets over Stravinsky. It was the latter, in
fact, who called Ravel “a Swiss clockmaker,” referring to
his maniacal attention to detail and technical brilliance.
He was a master orchestrator in the vein of Rimsky-
Korsakov, and this allowed him to spin shimmering webs
of fantasy and sensuousness. Just listen to the opening
of Daphnis et Chloe and you hear nature awakening
at dawn; with La Valse, a Viennese waltz goes mad;
and Pavane for a Dead Princess rides on a melody few
composers could ever match.
Then we have Bolero. Written in 1928 for an obscure
ballet, it was intended to support dancers, not serve
as a stand-alone in the concert hall, one reason
Ravel expected it to fade into oblivion. He called it
“orchestration without music,’’ but harsher sentiment
followed the premiere, when a critic slammed it as
“the most insolent monstrosity ever perpetuated in the
history of music.’’
Today, Bolero enjoys unflagging popularity, a hybrid of
both masterworks and pops programs. Yes, Bolero is a
study in repetition – the same C major pattern repeats
itself 13 times against a snare drum – but it would be
an injustice to call it simplistic. A long crescendo based
on two themes and decorated in the flavors of Spanish
flamenco, it moves forward on an insistent rhythm that
grows in volume and intensity.
Bolero begins quietly and ends demonically, a traditional
form turned on its head, with exhilarating effect. It makes
no demands on listeners and performers – except on the
poor snare drummer, who never gets a break.
Program notes by Kurt Loft, a freelance writer and
former music critic for the Tampa Tribune.