This recent Juneau Symphony Orchestra concert was the perfect accompaniment to a beautiful, moonlit spring evening. As conductor Troy Quinn pointed out, there is no better setting in the world than Juneau for inspiring music. With its verdant forests, unfathomable glaciers, everlasting ocean, and peaceful lakes, Juneau suits it perfectly.
The evening commenced with the delightful, familiar strain of Copland’s “Variations on a Shaker Melody.” It was brought to life with a beautiful effort of cohesion, cooperation, and coordination, each instrument lending its voice to the flowing melody. The bows of the string instruments danced in unison, each instrument shining in the light that illuminated the stage. The jubilant culminating variation was breathtaking. If this piece could be compared to a feature of Juneau’s natural scenery, perhaps it would be a cheerful brook, swelling with the melted winter snow, gurgling and bouncing across stones as it glimmers in the sunshine.
The mood deepened with the next composition, “Prayer of St. Gregory” by Hovhaness. I hadn’t heard this work before, but I now claim it as a favorite. It felt peaceful, warm, and flowing and certainly had the contemplative, almost mystical quality that Quinn attributed to it. In my imagination, it seemed to reflect the depths of an ocean, sunbeams streaming through from far above, blurry in the gently rolling waters. From the audience, it seemed entirely graceful and effortless despite the copious practice, impressive technical ability, and careful execution that undoubtedly supported it. Although it was only five minutes long, it completely captured my attention and lifted me from daily life for a spellbound moment. I always am amazed at music’s ability to sweep one away into its enchantment. It is just as Wordsworth described in his poem, “Power of Music:” “What an eager assembly! What an empire is this! The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss; the mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest; and the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest.” It is such a privilege for the Juneau community to be able to escape the rest of life for a moment and simply listen to something so beautiful and stirring.
This piece was followed by “Nimrod” from Elgar’s “Enigma Variations”, which originated from a charming game the composer played with his wife, in which he created musical personifications of their friends while she had to guess whom they represented. “Nimrod” embodies Elgar’s friend Jaeger, both words meaning “hunter.” I was so intrigued by the story that is woven into its meaning and creation that I was predisposed to like it before I heard it. However, even if I had known nothing of the music prior to listening to it, it would have garnered my appreciation of its own accord. It draws the listener in, then gathers force and intensity. Its place in my metaphor with Juneau’s scenery would be that of a river’s surging with a sense of strength and nobility.
The concert ended with its longest selection, the cantata “Dona Nobis Pacem” by Ralph Vaughan Williams. Aptly denoted by Maestro Quinn as “epic,” this work travels through six movements, drawing in Biblical and poetic texts as it powerfully responds to the horrific realities of war and cries out for peace. We have left the dreamy sun-streamed depths of the ocean and are now at its surface, tossed in the violence of a storm which hurls itself across the sea with tempestuous energy. Cymbals clash like lightning, and the voices of the choir sometimes are drowned out by the thunderous instrumental roar. The voices from the chorus blend in expressive, urgent harmonies. The soloists’ voices reach every corner of the auditorium, which is appropriate, for their song evokes the inescapable, indiscriminate, and pervasive nature of war. Triumphant bells rejoice as the journey concludes in its hope for peace.
Evening had approached by the time the concert drew to a close, and the audience dispersed in the cool springtime air beneath the cloud-softened glow of the moon. As I left, I hoped that we’d each take a little share of the peace and inspiration that uplifted our hours together as we returned to our daily lives, and that we’d see in the glory of Juneau’s rich scenery and plentiful natural beauty some of the peace that we found in that afternoon’s music.
• Born and raised in Palmer, Alaska, Tierra Colberg is completing her junior year as an elementary-education major at the University of Alaska Southeast.
