“New American Symphonies” … Really?

Cover of the New American Symphonies album (which some may find more engaging than the listening experience!)

This past Thursday I was informed by Crossover Media, one of my preferred and more reliable sources, of the release of a new album entitled New American Symphonies. According to the Web page created by Amazon.com, the album will be available for purchase next Friday, August 14; and, as is often the case, pre-orders are now being processed. The content is a chronological account of symphonies by Roy Harris (“American Symphony,” two movements) and Scott Ninmer (“Night Suite,” three movements), both conducted by Marin Alsop. The Crossover release described the first of these as “Harris’s Long-Lost Trombone Symphony.”

To be fair, I have to confess a personal attachment to this album. From 1985 to 1990, I was working at the Information Sciences Institute of the University of Southern California (USC). This was not located on the USC campus but, rather, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean in Marina del Rey. When I informed one of my colleagues that I was looking for a piano teacher, I was referred to Johana Harris, Roy’s widow. Johana, in turn, referred me to her prize pupil at the time, pianist and composer Jake Heggie. This all resulted in one of the more interesting episodes in my autobiography; but, ironically, I came away learning little about Roy. (Like everyone studying and research twentieth-century music, I was relatively familiar with his third symphony but knew about “When Johnny Comes Marching Home – An American Overture” only by its title.)

This brings me to the use of “new” in the New American Symphonies album. As observed above, “American Symphony” spends much of its time dwelling on solo trombone passages. As a result, the accompanying notes by Bill McLaughlin refer to it as the “Trombone Symphony” as follows:

The Trombone Symphony was the inspiration of Harris’ wife, who was not only a highly respected pianist but also a jazz fan. “Roy,” said madam, “You should really write a symphony for Tommy Dorsey,” the smooth-sounding trombonist band leader, then at the peak of his fame.

And so, he did.

The work opens with a wildly fast bit of jazz inflected figures being tossed around until Harris felt he needed [a] break. Where to turn next? Well, let’s throw in a fiddle tune: “Bonaparte’s Retreat” Sound familiar? Copland had used it in “Rodeo”, and it serves Harris as well as it had Copland. The opening movement is so wildly virtuosic that the Dorsey band couldn’t play it on the one time they tried. So, Harris moved on to a more peaceful tempo for the second movement.

So, that’s the Symphony for Tommy Dorsey, which was never played until this recording. A short history — abandoned after one unsuccessful reading by the Tommy Dorsey Band at the Rainbow Room in New York City in 1938.

Obviously, I could not read this passage without a strong streak of nostalgia. Nevertheless, I have to confess that listening to “American Symphony” was a fun experience, even if it involves content that may not be as familiar to contemporary listeners!

Ninmer’s “Night Suite” is much more recent. It was composed in 2014 for Jim Pugh, the lead trombonist in the ensemble. McLaughlin’s notes describe it as music “of much more recent vintage.” I am not sure I agree. More specifically, I find that both the solo tropes and the accompanying passages remind me as much of my past experiences with Tommy Dorsey’s gigs as my impressions were in listening to “American Symphony.” Indeed, the entire album reminds me of a joke I once encountered in a review of an album described as “music of the future whose time has passed!”