Back in June of 2002, Naxos launched a projected cycle of recordings to account for the thirteen symphonies composed by Roy Harris, which would be released under their American Classics rubric. I had not given this twentieth-century American composer much thought for some time. However, I am currently reading those chapters from Virgil Thomson’s American Music Since 1910 that were included in the second Library of America collection of his writings, edited (like the first) by Tim Page. In the chapter entitled “Looking Backward,” Thomson cited Harris’ “eloquent Third Symphony.”
Back in my student days there seemed to be a general consensus that this symphony was a veritable icon of twentieth-century music. My own composition teacher, Ezra Sims, swore by it; and I treasured my Desto vinyl album of a performance by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra conducted by Walter Hendel. Sadly, that album never seemed to migrate to the CD medium; so, when I gave up all my vinyls due to lack of space in my current San Francisco condominium, I pretty much lost touch with the symphony. In the years since settling in San Francisco, I was never reminded in any way about that symphony or, for that matter, any other Harris composition. It took Thomson to shake that particular tree.
So it was that I discovered the Naxos project. One might have guessed that the cycle would begin with Harris’ third symphony. However, it did not appear until the second album was released in March of 2006. On that album it was coupled with the fourth, given the title “Folksong Symphony.” True to that name, the music was scored for orchestra and chorus, meaning that, in five of the seven movements, the songs were actually sung. There were also two instrumental interludes providing what were called “dance tunes.”
The performers on this album consisted of the Colorado Symphony Orchestra and the Colorado Symphony Orchestra Chorus. They were conducted by Marin Alsop. The fourth symphony reflects back on a time when folk singing was more popular, but there were a generous number of imaginative twists in Harris’ arrangements. As a result, the fourth symphony left the listener with a deeper impression than was registered by the third. To the best of my recollections, Hendel’s reading of this symphony took the orchestral genre and endowed it with just the right balance of grit and moxie, neither of which established much of a presence in Alsop’s reading. This should not surprise anyone with a sense of history. After completing a Master’s degree in violin at Juilliard in 1978, Alsop entered a world that had definitely moved beyond Thomson’s mindset.
The first album, on the other hand, came across as rather remote from the enthusiastic Americana of the fourth symphony. Theodore Kuchar conducted the Ukraine National Symphony Orchestra in performances of the seventh and ninth symphonies, separated by a meditative interlude entitled “Epilogue to Profiles in Courage - J.F.K.” The three movements of the ninth symphony are named after phrases excerpted from the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States. The seventh, on the other hand, is another one-movement symphony. Kuchar was born in New York City, less than seven years younger than Alsop. He is of Ukrainian descent, which explains his having become Principal Guest Conductor of that Ukrainian ensemble. Like Alsop, however, his mindset is too detached from the spirit behind Harris’ music.
In January of 2010 Alsop made her second Harris recording for Naxos, this time with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra. The major offering on this album was the sixth symphony, entitled “Gettysburg.” It began with a bucolic portrait of this Pennsylvania borough before launching into an intense account of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. The symphony then advances to the famous address delivered by Abraham Lincoln, concluding with a movement entitled “Affirmation,” presumably acknowledging “lessons learned” from the Civil War and Lincoln’s address. Thematically, the symphony emerged from a short piece entitled “Acceleration,” which concludes the album. However, it is preceded by Harris’ fifth symphony, which was composed during World War II.
As of this writing, Naxos has not yet accounted for any more of Harris’ symphonies. One could be forgiven for assuming that none of the recordings made much of a splash. Given that Alsop never seemed to warm up to Harris’ spirit, however out of fashion that spirit may be, one can appreciate why Naxos has not been more proactive in advancing their project. Meanwhile, in September of 2010 Naxos released an American Classics release of Geoffrey Burleson playing Harris’ complete piano music. Much of the content was inspired by Harris’ wife Johana. Burleson brings just the right touch to music that is highly affectionate without taking itself too seriously. Those curious about this composer’s music may find more satisfaction in the brevity of his piano compositions than in any of the more “inflated” orchestral offerings.
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