“Pursuit”
Francis M. Frost

After the hour they are beset,
the deer forget
the melancholy horns, the hounds,
the fatal wounds

escaped again. After the sound
of the hunt is gone,
the rabbit forgets; his whiskers twitch
on the knoll, in the ditch;

he scurries, his soft ears flat to his head.
But man, in his bed,
Remembers the scythe of wind in rue
and the acrid blue

smoke from the leaves, the field left fallow,
the stiffened yarrow.
The fox forgets the ended danger;
but man is no stranger

to death: he remembers and is waylaid
by the ghost of shade;
at the phantom of shadow upon the hill,
he freezes and is still.

Generally, my two young children love to play tag. We giggle and run, breathing hard, faces flushed. It’s all good fun usually until I run around behind my daughter, and perhaps catch her unaware. If I’m not careful, fun turns into terror, and then the game is over until she can recover.

Being purposefully terrified seems to be an American pastime, especially in October. We watch scary movies, walk (or if you’re like me, stumble) through fright fests, and go door-to-door in pursuit of something sweet, sometimes dressed to scare. It seems we’re searching for something—perhaps with enough vigor we feel we can scare off winter for just a few more days.

I think the thrill of the chase is something deeply ingrained within us. We talk of the ‘good ache’ that comes after a good workout, and we grin mildly as we pant in exhaustion after a foot race. We seek promotion, chase a lover, hunt for a discovery. The toil can be tough and tedious, and we might question why we sweat when we’re in the middle of the labor, but the reward always seems worth it once we’ve found it.

The pursuit seems to thread its way through so much of everything we do. It is even metaphysical for some of us, captured in the famous song by David of Israel:

“As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.”

Whatever God might be for us, we know what it feels like to thirst for it. Tonight, we celebrate that feeling, and the joy of the reward when we might finally catch a taste of that which we seek.

-C.R.

When I was approached by Artistic Director David A. Turrill about writing a piece in honor of the 100th anniversary of the Zanesville (Ohio) Memorial Concert Band, he told me it would be amazing if I could somehow tie the piece into the local community. The band does a summer concert series at Zane’s Landing Park, a beautiful outdoor venue. I soon learned that Zane’s Landing Park is also home to Zaneville’s Eternal Flame, the only eternal flame memorial in the United States dedicated to Medal of Honor recipients. Almost immediately, the concept of the piece came into focus.
 
The opening feels much like an Olympic fanfare, immediately invoking the heroic actions that often lead to a Medal of Honor, the highest military award for valor. While the piece is not overtly patriotic, it does include subtle nods to America (“My Country ‘Tis of Thee”), beginning with the lyrical, stately theme that occurs after the opening fanfare. As the music develops, various phrases from America continue to be referenced without there ever being a full setting of the theme.
 
The piece concludes with a restatement of the opening fanfare, this time in a completely different tempo and time signature, yet it feels remarkably similar to the opening. This is juxtaposed with a flurry of woodwind activity spilling over from the previous section, drawing everything together into a powerful conclusion.
 
- Program Note by composer

“Wayfaring Stranger” is a setting of the American folk spiritual known as “Poor Wayfaring Stranger.” While many versions of the lyrics to this tune exist, they all tell the story of a traveler who makes his way on a journey despite a rough road, difficult circumstances, and gathering darkness. He does this, the lyrics say, for the promise of green pastures and a reunion with his father and mother at journey’s end. This setting is intended to convey not only the difficulty experienced by the traveler, but also the resolve which is displayed as he moves forward despite hardship, and disappointment. “Wayfaring Stranger” is offered as a sort of resolute battle hymn for anyone who must endure a long journey of challenge and trial before the promised green pastures can be enjoyed.
 
- Program Note by publisher

This lively, commissioned work is an Americana piece in the style of a reel. Effectively conveying the fun and playfulness of the old-time acoustic-based dance music found in juke joints in the southeastern United States during the mid- to late 1800s, this spirited piece is expertly scored with somewhat challenging 16th-note melodic material for clarinet, flute, alto saxophone, solo euphonium, and solo trumpet (and spoons).
- Program Note from The Instrumentalist

“The Last Hive Mind” was written for conductor Glen Adsit and the Foot in the Door Ensemble at The Hartt School. Inspired by several episodes of the British TV series Black Mirror and the general idea of recent increasing debate around the artificial intelligence and how it will affect our daily lives as human being, I put some of my personal thoughts, standing, and imagination into this work. Thanks to Glen who came up with this very dynamic and matching title at the preliminary stage of my writing of it— the title also helped in the shaping of how the musical narrative is navigating its own way throughout.
 
Specifically, I was struck by the idea in one episode of Black Mirror, the “Metalhead.” After the unexplained collapse of human society, a group of people tried to flee from the robotic “dogs,” a huge hive mind with metal built bodies and powerful computer “brains.” The failure is almost predictable, but one detail that struck me the most was that the whole reason that a few human beings got trapped in the crazy chasing by the robotic dogs was because of their effort of searching a comforting gift for a very sick child — and the gift is just a fluffy teddy bear. 
 
In “The Last Hive Mind,” there are two forces fighting with each other — the robotic, rhythmic, seemingly unbreakable “hive mind” music, versus the dreamy, melodic, and warm “lullaby” tune. Lastly presented by the piano, the “lullaby” music is also a quote from my mini piano concerto Canton Snowstorm. As the title indicates, this work depicts the struggle between the artificial intelligence, or the hive mind, and the dimming humanity; furthermore, the work implies the final collapse and breakdown of the last hive mind followed by its triumph.
 
- Program Note by composer

Haunting and captivating describes John Williams' score to the hit movie Catch Me If You Can that starred Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks. The music features an alto sax soloist and a wide variety of unique percussion and scoring devices. This superb arrangement includes the most striking musical themes from the soundtrack in a marvelous concert setting. 
 
- Program Note by publisher

Husa described his own composition as a “portrait of a magnificent wild animal, now an Endangered Species—it’s colors, movements, power, speed—and finally, exhaustion after an unsuccessful chase.” 
 
This remarkable work for the wind ensemble perfectly exemplifies Husa’s ability to write a post-tonal work with mathematic precision without sacrificing any emotional depth. It captures both the coiled potential energy of the cheetah watching the savannah, along with the explosion of speed and muscle as it springs into the hunt. “Cheetah,” published in 2007, was Husa’s final work written for this medium.
 
-Program Note by Chris Ramos

Among the Huichol people of Mexico, "kauyumari" means “blue deer”. The blue deer represents a spiritual guide, one that is transformed through an extended pilgrimage into a hallucinogenic cactus called peyote. It allows the Huichol to communicate with their ancestors, do their bidding, and take on their role as guardians of the planet. Each year, these Native Mexicans embark on a symbolic journey to “hunt” the blue deer, making offerings in gratitude for having been granted access to the invisible world, through which they also are able to heal the wounds of the soul. When I received the commission from the Los Angeles Philharmonic to compose a piece that would reflect on our return to the stage following the pandemic, I immediately thought of the blue deer and its power to enter the world of the intangible as akin to a celebration of the reopening of live music. Specifically, I thought of a Huichol melody sung by the De La Cruz family—dedicated to recording ancestral folklore—that I used for the final movement of my piece, Altar de Muertos (Altar of the Dead), commissioned by the Kronos String Quartet in 1997.
 
I used this material within the orchestral context and elaborated on the construction and progressive development of the melody and its accompaniment in such a way that it would symbolize the blue deer. This in turn was transformed into an orchestral texture which gradually evolves into a complex rhythm pattern, to such a degree that the melody itself becomes unrecognizable (the imaginary effect of peyote and our awareness of the invisible realm), giving rise to a choral wind section while maintaining an incisive rhythmic accompaniment as a form of reassurance that the world will naturally follow its course.
 
While composing this piece, I noted once again how music has the power to grant us access to the intangible, healing our wounds and binding us to what can only be expressed through sound.
Although life is filled with interruptions, “Kauyumari” is a comprehension and celebration of the fact that each of these rifts is also a new beginning.
 
- Program Note by composer

“The Black Horse Troop” march was completed December 30, 1924, at Sousa’s Sands Point, Long Island, estate. It was played for the first time about ten months later on October 17, 1925, at a concert of the Sousa Band in the Public Auditorium, Cleveland, Ohio – and I was there. I had not been to such an event as this one. I remember that as Sousa’s march was being played, Troop A rode [their horses] onto the stage and stood behind the band to the tumultuous cheering of all. The March King enjoyed a long relationship with the men and horses of Cleveland’s Ohio National Guard Cavalry, known as Troop A.
 
- Program Note by Frederick Fennell

Mitchell Hall

Conductor

Dr. Christopher Ramos

Conductor