Before I launch into my review of the 50th Masterworks Concert by Starkville-MSU symphony from Saturday night, I would like to insert a personal anecdote: when I was a small, four-foot-something sixth-grader, I was introduced to the world of orchestra.
Upon signing up for the class, I thought I would stick with the delicate aesthetic of the violin, just like every other stereotypical little girl entering the classical music world. However, my class period did not have anyone to play double bass. Suddenly, I found myself raising my hand to volunteer, and the next thing I knew, I was propping myself on a stool just to keep the hulking instrument upright.
My passion for music, classical and modern alike, has only soared from there. In my previous musical reviews, I had the opportunity to hear a wide range of styles, which each demonstrated the breadth of sounds and magic instruments can create. Though the bands have been wonderful and a joy to listen to, they could not possibly compare to the true magnificence of a symphony, especially when the symphony is performing one of the greatest works of art humanity has ever produced.
The performance last Saturday consisted of two pieces, Hector Berlioz’s “Roman Carnival Overture” and Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125.
Berlioz’s “Roman Carnival Overture” is the musical synopses of two Italians falling in love at a carnival. The spirited transitions from melodic solos on wind instruments to sharp percussion rhythms illustrate the themes of love and chaos in the carnival. Again, the piece was beautiful, but was completely upstaged by one of the world’s most iconic composers.
Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” was revolutionary in multiple ways. Not only was it the first symphony to use voices, but it was also the longest and largest symphony of his time. Many believe this work to be the turning point between the classical and romantic era. Before the orchestra began playing, conductor Barry Kopetz stated once the audience would hear Beethoven’s Ninth performed, they would become addicted.
By the end of the concert, I can confirm his forewarning with absolute certainty.
It is a piece entirely unlike anything the human ear had ever experience before its debut, composed by a man who had been rendered deaf eight years prior. Throughout the four movements, there were subtle, underlying portions of musical themes that would coalesce into the well-known finale I had never noticed before.
Each movement seemed to illustrate its own story arc that, initially, seemed to lack a single thread of continuity until the finale of fourth.
By then, the fervent fingers of every instrumentalist as they flew across strings and valves, combined with the trilling voices of all three choirs in such a thunderous crescendo that it was almost impossible to catch them all at once. Just as suddenly, when it seemed to be trapped in the unending sound, all of it comes to a halt. A brief silence echoes over the audience before they fill the now-empty air with cacophonous applause.
I have never been so enthralled with an orchestra before, and it will likely be ages before I will be blessed with such an experience again, and certainly never for no expense.
Before Saturday, it had been years since I had been to an orchestral performance. Now, I have been adequately reminded of the power and beauty of the symphony, and will likely make a more pointed attempt to attend similar events.