As a member of the Boston Youth Symphony, I had the honor of performing in Symphony Hall, Jordan Hall, and venues across Germany during our international collaboration with the Leipzig Jugendchores (Youth Choir).
From Mendelssohn’s Scottish Symphony, to Debussy’s Jeux, this symphony was my home for several years and is where my musical abilities flourished.
My most treasured memories from my time in Boston are performing two semi-staged operas, Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin (his only opera!) and Bizet’s Carmen. Prior to these performances, I had no exposure to the vocal side of classical music, but after experiencing the high drama of the “Letter Scene” in Onegin and Don José’s betrayal, I fell in love with opera.
Daphnis et Chloé, Suites 1 and 2
Symphony No. 3, Op. 56, “Scottish”
Daphnis et Chloé was the first major Ravel piece I had the opportunity to play. Of the six movements, the danse générale is my favorite by far because of its rolicking, fervid tempo and wild character. It reminds me of Rite of Spring, if it had a bit more melody!
Later on, I had the opportunity to play La Valse, also by Ravel. La Valse feels like Ravel at his peak - it combines the frenzied fervor of Daphnis and Chloé with a genuinely addictive melody, which makes for one of the most wild and gripping thirteen minutes in all of classical music.
Ravel, like the other impressionists, has a habit of breaking musical boundaries, and this effect is heightened by his dramatic ritardandos and accelerandos that stretch far beyond the normal bounds. This makes his pieces feel a lot less grounded in time than most works, and is something that I both like and dislike when performing Ravel.
Mendelssohn’s Scottish Symphony has the honor of being my favorite Mendelssohn piece in a room of crowded favorites — Piano Trios 1 and 2, String Quartet Op. 12, 13, and 44, his Cello Sonata… but it was all ignited by this symphony. For me, Mendelssohn is the perfect blend between Rachmaninoff’s dramatic romanticism and the more refined Mozart and Beethoven of his yesteryear.
Of course, part of why I enjoy this symphony so much is likely because my youth orchestra performed it over three times in preparation of our tour to Germany. However, in my defense, I’ve also performed Mendlessohn’s 4th symphony (by far the more popular one) and I still enjoy the 3rd symphony so much more — in my mind, melancholy is so much more interesting than joy! (That really says a lot about me.)
Bizet’s Carmen
Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin
Performing Carmen was one of the most exhilarating musical experiences of my life. The entire opera was a marvel - from multiple choruses that needed to be conducted via screen, to on stage combat theatrics, to amazing cello section melodies, Carmen had everything. On top of that, the sweeping storyline and downfall of the titular character was truly gripping, with no less thrilling songs — in French, a language that I could actually attempt to grasp!
Working on an opera for so long is a special pleasure, and allowed us all to slowly fall in love with each of the characters in their multifaceted dimensions. While often pieces of classical music have themes rooted in the real world, or a rough storyline (à la Romeo and Juliet), in opera the connections are unmistakable. Every phrase connects to a line in a play, and it warms my literary heart to feel every downbeat and pianissimo as a comma or break in conversation.
Eugene Onegin was the first opera I performed and although I was initially dubious about the merits of the vocal side of classical music, this work quickly revealed to me the joys of working with singers on narrative works. A typically structured opera, Eugene Onegin follows the story of a Tatyana, a young woman in aristocratic Russia, who falls in love with a visitor, Onegin, and confesses her love (Scene 11, the “Letter Scene”). He friendzones her by stating he loves her “like a brother” (ouch!) and moves on.
Fast forward a few acts, and after a dramatic duel, Hamilton style, a wonderful polonaise, and many years, Onegin encounters Tatyana at an aristocratic ball and falls in love with her. Oh, the irony. Now married, Tatyana rejects him in spite of her own love, and the curtain falls on the tragic couple separated by fate.
This opera is unique because it’s the only one written by Tchaikovsky, which I was unaware of until I started working on this piece. However, after reading Anna Karenina years later, I understood why Tchaikovsky, a great Russian composer, would seek to compose an opera based on a major work by Alexander Pushkin, the father of Russian literature.