Downey Overture
Oscar Navarro
Dedicated with all my affection to the Downey Symphony Orchestra, for its hard work and dedication, and, of course, to its conductor, Sharon Lavery, for her professionalism and great passion for music.
Downey Overture is a Latin-American fusion with which I have wanted to link my birth country, Spain, and California, the land that, as a result of the two years I lived there, has left a permanent imprint on my heart.
An amalgam of rhythm and musical color wrapped in an atmosphere of dance are the essence to this piece. It is joyful, energetic and written with all my enthusiasm and dedication. It could not have been any other way for the Downey Symphony Orchestra.
–Oscar Navarro
Firebird Suite
Igor Stravinsky
Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) is widely regarded as one of the largest influences in 20th-century modernist era. Born in Lomonosov, Russia, Stravinsky had a relatively modest musical upbringing. However, during his time in the University of St. Petersburg studying law and philosophy, he soon found a unique passion for composition and was taken as a private student by the famous composer Rimsky-Korsakov.
Stravinsky’s initial compositions were met with notable success and aided in bringing him patrons, the most notable being the impresario Sergei Diaghilev. Looking for a Russian sound in his ballet The Firebird that he believed would entice the Parisian crowd, Diaghilev placed his faith in the young Stravnisky after two other Russian composers had failed him. The ballet would become a national success, springboarding Stravinsky’s career and laying the foundation for what would become his iconic modern sound.
From the soothing and enveloping sound of the oboes and bassoons to the thunderous and rhythmic intensity of the brass, Stravinsky displays his mastery of orchestration throughout The Firebird. Stravinsky would go on to write three separate suites of the ballet, the most popular being his 1919 version—taking less than half of the ballet and simplifying parts of the orchestration.
The suite begins in a quiet and eerie atmosphere, setting the mood for Prince Ivan as he enters the evil Kastchei’s magical realm. Inside the realm Ivan encounters the Firebird, chasing the phoenix-like creature as swift woodwind lines fly around the orchestra. The mood quickly softens as Ivan reaches Kastchei’s imprisoned princesses, a sweet and delicate melody depicting the dance Ivan has with his destined bride.
The Firebird then casts a spell of eternal dance on Kastchei and his soldiers, bringing forth a jarring movement of quick brass motifs and ornamentations swirling around the orchestra. This rapturous energy is cut off as the bassoon plays a lullaby to put Kastchei to sleep. After the defeat of Kastchei, the distant melody of a horn appears to signify the arrival of sunlight. The line builds in strength and power until transforming into a triumphant fanfare, celebrating the victory of Ivan in a powerful finish.
–Marcos Rivera (BM ’28)
Symphony No. 9 in E-flat Major, op. 70
Dmitri Shostakovich
For those with prior knowledge of Shostakovich’s work, going into a performance of the Ninth can be shocking. The Ninth Symphony is one of his only forays into classically adjacent, somewhat lighthearted, and at points even humorous melodic content. It is short, sweet, and not at all what the 1940s Soviet regime was ready for after Shostakovich had said he was writing a symphony about Lenin in the years prior. While initially received positively by the Soviet public, it was later condemned by Soviet authorities, culminating in a censure of Shostakovich and nearly all of his compositions. He would not write another symphony until 1953, premiered nine months after Stalin’s death.
The first movement of the Ninth may be the most jarring if you were expecting a Mahler-sized orchestra with soloists and full chorus embodying the greatness of Lenin. Instead, you are met with a perfect example of 18th-century sonata form. There is a palpable bounce in the march-like theme with constant trombone interjections, and as soon as it seems we may be moving towards a darker, more introspective space, the movement abruptly ends.
The second movement’s meandering and melancholic mood is introduced through a winding clarinet solo. The swaying theme is slowly joined by the rest of the woodwind section, followed by a similar theme in the strings that eventually peters out into a piccolo reprise of the original melody.
The capricious third movement begins with a whirlwind that will take us through the rest of the symphony without pause. Beginning with a clarinet solo of its own, as different from the second movement as possible, the scherzo devolves into a skirmish between the woodwinds and brass. As fast as the clash between sections began, it falls apart into a void of dark strings before a menacing brass fanfare signals it’s time for the largo, starring the bassoon. At first, the solo is inward and brooding, but in a moment of humor it sidesteps to bring us into the finale with an uncertain sense of joy. This anxiety spins out of control into an allegro that makes fun of our original premonitions of what this symphony might have been.
–Reese Romero (MM ’25)
