Program Notes: Greater Bridgeport Symphony: October 4, 2025: Horizons of the Air
Entr'Acte Caroline Shaw
Composer, violinist, and singer Caroline Shaw (b. 1982) is among the most distinguished and active composers working today. Recognized with many honors, most notably the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for Music, the boundary-spanning Shaw is the youngest recipient in history to receive this honor. She has some connection to our area, since she earned her master’s degree from the Yale School of Music. Shaw is a founding member of the vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth. Notable collaborations and commissions include Roomful of Teeth, So Percussion, the Brentano String Quartet, the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, hip hop artist Kanye West, and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra.
Entr’Acte had its debut by the Brentano String Quartet in 2011. A Far Cry commissioned and premiered the string orchestra version in 2014. Says Shaw:
Entr’acte was written in 2011 after hearing the Brentano Quartet play Haydn’s Op. 77 No. 2 — with their spare and soulful shift to the D-flat major trio in the minuet. It is structured like a minuet and trio, riffing on that classical form but taking it a little further. I love the way some music (like the minuets of Op. 77) suddenly takes you to the other side of Alice’s looking glass, in a kind of absurd, subtle, technicolor transition.
Building on Haydn’s tendency to surprise us in normally unsurprising places, Shaw creates a variety of different experiences for the listener, juxtaposed in surprising ways. As James Bennett put it, “several unreal, fun, thorny, hazy transitions…It’s a wobbly, complicated terrain of notes that seem suddenly out of place” The first, very memorable, theme gives way to a metrically playful section marked “like granite,” then to a pizzicato section that almost sounds like rainfall. A succession of downward sighs gives way to the return of the first theme, which disappears gradually into the sky, leaving the cello behind as the piece concludes.
The Lark Ascending Ralph Vaughan Williams
This exquisite, deceptively simple piece evokes our recent past as an orchestra; many GBS listeners will recall the GBS’ 2019 video recording of this piece with Colin Jacobsen as soloist in the lobby of Bridgeport’s long-abandoned Poli Palace theater—a recording which garnered international attention online. This piece began life as a 1914 work for violin and piano, but was not performed until 1920. Vaughan Williams adapted it for orchestra in 1921, and this version, which we hear tonight, is the one commonly known today. The work is inspired by the 1881 poem of the same name by George Meredith. The violin evokes the bird’s song and its flight. The Lark Ascending opens with solo violin, sounding improvised, and written without meter (time signature). Here, the violinist plays with the bow over the fingerboard, which gives the solo cadenza an ethereal tone. Later, a second cadenza leads to a contrasting section featuring a new melody for flutes. The third section highlights interplay between the solo violin and the triangle, which is the only use of percussion in the piece. The ending unites the opening theme with the flute melody and closes with another solo violin cadenza. The lack of a strong, defined metric pulse and the extensive use of the Dorian and Aeolian modes, as well as the pentatonic scale, gives the entire piece a folklike character.
Symphony no. 5, in D minor, Op. 47 Dmitri Shostakovich
How can an artist continue to create under an autocratic regime exercising ideological control over the arts? This awful balancing act was a reality for composers and creators of art in Soviet Russia, particularly under Josef Stalin. Like Nazi Germany, Stalin’s USSR had official mechanisms to determine what constituted approved or disapproved artworks, phrased in terms of national “values”—a feat of censorship and control that aspiring autocrats around the world have tried to emulate since. Artists had to confirm to be heard or seen, and could be punished by imprisonment or exile. Shostakovich faced official criticism, and potentially severe consequences, for official negative reaction to his opera Lady Macbeth of Minsk, and underwent great pressure to withdraw his Fourth Symphony from its premiere performance. Stakes were very high for Shostakovich, personally and professionally, as he began writing his next piece. The Fifth Symphony ultimately marked his return to favor, as both the public and officials were delighted with the work, which received applause lasting over half an hour at its premiere. The officially sanctioned “style” in Stalin’s Russia was known as “socialist realism,” which valued art glorifying the Soviet Union and its people in simplistic and officially approved terms. In music, “socialist realism” sought to limit complexity, dissonance, and the kind of experimentation happening in Western classical music throughout the twentieth century.
The symphony begins with a first movement in sonata form. One of many signs that there is more to this symphony than meets the eye is the use of a first theme borrowed from the Fourth Symphony, which, in turn, was borrowed from a song by Gustav Mahler. This first theme is treated with many variations, giving way to a second theme that is more simple, and which prevails, after a development section that includes what has been described as a “grotesque military march.” The second movement is best described as a ländler, a European folk dance in triple meter, though it includes both simple, folk-sounding melodies and unusual harmonies and dissonance. The third movement is more ethereal, using only strings and winds, with the brass silent for the first time. The harmony is also ethereal - it is hard to tell what key you are in, as the music flows freely. This movement has been described as lament and resignation, and many listeners at the premiere felt it evoked a Russian Orthodox requiem. The fourth movement is also in sonata form, quoting Shostakovich’s own 1936-7 song Vozrozhdenije (Op. 46 No. 1) which sets a text by Alexander Pushkin dealing with rebirth. Themes from the first three movements return, and are ultimately played like a funeral march. Towards the end, the movement moves from minor into major. The officials heard what they wanted to here, and at least some of the public heard their suffering as citizens of Stalin’s Russia. In writings which may or may not be authentic, Shostakovich describes the fourth movement as “forced rejoicing.” This complex work, layered with musical and historical symbolism, remains Shostakovich’s most-performed symphony.