On today’s date in 1993, the American composer Daniel Asia conducted the Phoenix Symphony in the premiere performance of his Symphony No. 4. The work included a slow movement, written as an orchestral elegy for Asia’s friend and composer colleague, Stephen Albert, who had died in a car crash the previous year.

But Asia cast his symphony in the traditional four-movements familiar from the symphonies of Haydn and Beethoven. And, as in the symphonies of Haydn and Beethoven, Asia left room for a wide range of emotions – including humor. So, in addition to a slow, elegiac movement, Asia’s Symphony has a second movement Scherzo, with a traditional, but jaunty and very American-sounding trio section.

“In this piece,” writes Asia, “I was rediscovering old formal ideas ... The second movement is a true scherzo. There are refractions of Beethoven scherzos, but sometimes a beat is chopped off, creating a skipping effect. Everything is in threes in the trio-section; the harmony is three-voiced, and the instrumentation is also in threesomes.”

As both composer and conductor, Daniel Asia has worked with American orchestras for coast-to-coast performances of his orchestral works, ranging from his hometown Seattle Symphony to the American Composers Orchestra in New York.

Daniel Asia (b. 1953) — Symphony No. 4 (New Zealand Symphony; James Sedares, cond.) Summit 256

On today’s date in 1930, “The Age of Gold,” a new ballet by the Soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich opened in Leningrad. At that time, it was trendy for Soviet Art to extol sporting events, and contrast the wholesome values of the new Soviet society with those of the decadent, bourgeois West.

And so, the plot of this new Soviet ballet ran as follows: a Russian soccer team arrives in a Western city to play a match during an industrial exposition, only to find their heroic endeavors thwarted by a hostile hotel staff, a seductive Western opera diva, and, of course, corrupt police and city officials.

Dutifully following the Party line, Shostakovich wrote: “Throwing into contrast the two cultures was my main aim. The dances for the Europeans breathe the decadent spirit of … contemporary bourgeois culture, but I tried to imbue the Soviet dances with the wholesome elements of sport and physical culture.”

One of the lasting hits of his ballet score was a sardonic little Polka.

Despite all this political subtext, Shostakovich seemed to be having a whale of a time, as if he rather enjoyed spending a little time – if only musically – in the decadent West.”

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906 –1975) — Polka, from The Age of Gold (Moscow Chamber Orchestra; Constantine Orbelian, cond.) Delos 3257

The REAL story behind Richard Strauss’ decision to use a chamber orchestra for his opera “Ariadne on Naxos” – which premiered in Stuttgart on today’s date in 1912 – is complicated and a little mundane. We prefer a more “colorful” version that some in Stuttgart have proffered.

When a new opera house was being planned for that city, Strauss was asked how large the orchestral pit should be. “Oh, it should hold about 100 players,” he suggested. So, to determine the size required, the architects rather naively asked the local military band to assemble 100 players, have them stand at attention, and measured the amount of space they occupied.

Now, soldiers standing at attention take up a LOT less space than an equal number of seated symphonic musicians. And so, the resulting space in the new theater could only accommodate a CHAMBER orchestra.

The Stuttgart Opera also wanted to launch their new theater with a brand-new opera commissioned from Strauss. When he learned what had happened, being the eminently practical sort he was, simply wrote his new opera for chamber ensemble of about 40 players.

Fact or fantasy, that’s how some like to tell it in Stuttgart.

Richard Strauss (1861 – 1949) — Ariadne auf Naxos (Vienna Philharmonic; James Levine, cond.) DG 419 225

On today’s date in 1930,  Howard Hanson led the premiere performance of the full orchestral version of William Grant Still’s symphonic poem, “Africa” at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New York.

Still had originally conceived “Africa” as a chamber work, dedicated to and premiered by the great French flutist Georges Barrère earlier that same year.

In a letter to Barrère, Still said that his new work depicted “the Africa of my imagination,” explaining “An American Negro has formed a concept of the land of his ancestors based largely on its folklore, and influenced by his contact with American civilization. He beholds in his mind’s eye not the Africa of reality, but an Africa mirrored in fancy, and radiantly ideal.”

That said, the Africa of Still’s imagination included not only serene, pastorale moments, but also – according to Still’s wife – the surfacing of “unspoken fears and lurking terrors.”

In its revised full symphonic version, Still’s “Africa” proved successful recalls the exotic colors of Rimksy-Korsakov’s reimagined pagan Russia, and as an orchestral showpiece proved successful in subsequent performances in Europe, but, for some reason known only to Still himself, his tone poem “Africa” remained unpublished during his lifetime.

William Grant Still (1895-1978): "Land of Romance" and "Land of Superstition," fr "Africa (Fort Smith ASym; John Jeter, cond.) Naxos 8.559174

On today's date in 1959, the Detroit Symphony under the eminent French conductor Paul Paray gave the first performance of some brand-new music by the eminent American composer Walter Piston.  Piston had studied in Paris with the famous French composition teacher Nadia Boulanger and the great French composer Paul Dukas, so perhaps this was a very astute paring of composer and conductor.

In any case, to help celebrate the 100th Worcester Festival, Paray and the Detroit orchestra were on hand in Massachusetts for the premiere of Piston's "Three New England Sketches," an orchestral suite whose movements were entitled: "Seaside," "Summer Evening," and "Mountains."

Piston didn't intend these titles to be taken literally: "[They] serve in a broad sense to tell the source of the inspirations, reminiscences, even dreams that pervaded the otherwise musical thoughts of one New England composer," he noted.

Piston certainly qualified as a bonafide "New England" composer. He was born in Rockland, Maine, in 1894, taught at Harvard, had a vacation home in Vermont, and died in Belmont, Massachusetts in 1976.

Even so, the most striking hallmark of Piston's music remains its quite cosmopolitan style and neo-classical form – the lasting influence, perhaps, of his two famous French teachers.

Walter Piston (1894 – 1976) — Three New England Sketches (Seattle Symphony; Gerard Schwarz, cond.) Delos 3106

Handel is the composer credited with “inventing” the organ concerto back in the 18th century. Handel was a virtuoso performer on the organ, and, as a special added attraction during the London performances of some of his oratorios, one of Handel’s concertos would be featured as a kind of intermission feature. This served to showcase Handel’s skill as an organist – and perhaps to give his singers a chance to catch their breath between sections of the full-length oratorio.

Since then, a number of composers have added to the organ concerto repertory started by Handel.

On today’s date in 1990, on a CBC radio broadcast from the Calgary Organ Festival Competition, a brand-new organ concerto by the American composer Michael Colgrass had its premiere performance. Colgrass’ concerto was entitled “Snow Walker,” and is cast as an impressionistic musical picture of the Far North and the fortitude, humor, and spirituality of Canada’s native Inuit peoples. The work is dedicated to Farley Mowat, the author of a true-life story of life in the Far North, “Never Cry Wolf,” familiar from a popular Disney movie. The Colgrass concerto provides musical evocations of a polar landscape, Inuit throat singing, and a rambunctious dance-finale.

George Frederic Handel (1685 – 1757) — Organ Concerto, Op.4, no. 4 (Simon Preston, organ; Festival Orchestra; Yehudi Menuhin, cond.) EMI 72626

Michael Colgrass (b. 1932) — Snow Walker (David Schrader, organ; Grant Park Orchestra; Carlos Kalmar, cond.) Cedille 90000 063

Let’s face it. Brevity and wit are not always qualities one associates with new music.

But today we offer a sample: this comic overture is less than 5 minutes long, and opens, as you just heard, with a Fellini-esque duet for piccolo and contrabassoon.

The overture is entitled “Quantum Quirks of a Quick Quaint Quark,” and is a rather burlesque celebration of modern theoretical physics. Its alliterative title evokes those subatomic particles known as “quarks” that, we’re told, make up our universe. And, since this music changes time signature so often, perhaps Heisenberg’s “uncertainty principle” is thrown in for good measure.

The music is by Marga Richter, who was born on this date in 1926 in Reedsburg, Wisconsin. Richter received her early music training in Minneapolis, and then moved to New York’s Juilliard School. By the time of her death in 2020, she had composed over 75 works including an opera and two ballets, as well as two piano concertos and a variety of solo, chamber and symphonic works.

"Composing,” said Richter,” is my response to a constant desire to transform my perceptions and emotions into music … Music is the way I speak to the silence of the universe."

Marga Richter (b. 1926) — Quantum Quirks of a Quick Quaint Quark (Czech Radio Orchestra; Gerard Schwarz) MMC 2006

On today’s date in 1950, the famous oboist Marcel Tabuteau gave the premiere performance of this “Pastorale” for solo oboe, harp, and strings, with his colleagues from the Philadelphia Orchestra.

The music was by Howard Hanson, who dedicated the piece to his wife Peggy.

Hanson was born in Wahoo, Nebraska in 1896. As a talented teenager, Hanson recalls a German-born musician in New York asking him: “Well, now, Hanson, why do you waste your time at futile efforts in composition when you could became a great concert pianist?” This, said Hanson, from someone who had never heard one note he had written. “In the true German tradition,” Hanson recalled, “he figured that nobody from Nebraska could possibly write good music. It took 40 years to get rid of that kind of thinking in the U.S. – and we’re not over it yet.”

Hanson was a successful composer, conductor, and educator in his early 80s when he made those comments, but retained his sense of humor, as evidence by this comment from the octogenarian: “Peggy will say to me, ‘What are you going to do now?’ and I’ll say, ‘I’m going upstairs to waste my time in futile efforts at composition.’”

Howard Hanson (1896 – 1981) — Pastorale (Randall Ellis, oboe; Susan Jolles, harp; Seattle Symphony; Gerard Schwarz, cond.) Delos 3105

According to Wikipedia, an art song is “a vocal music composition, usually written for one voice with piano accompaniment … often a musical setting of an independent poem or text intended for the concert repertory as part of a recital.”

The 600-plus art songs of the Viennese composer Franz Schubert are the most familiar examples of the genre and rank among the greatest achievements of the Romantic Era in music.

On today’s date in 1814, Schubert was just 17 years old when he finished one of the most famous of them, “Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel,” a remarkably empathetic setting of a scene from Goethe’s “Faust” in which the naïve young Gretchen confesses being both terrified and thrilled by falling passionately in love.

The British pianist Graham Johnson has recorded all 600 plus Schubert songs with some of the greatest singers of our day, and says, “The most amazing thing is that a 17-year-old boy can somehow enter into the female psyche with such an incredible amount of understanding as if he himself had experienced such feelings … There is a real distinct feeling of Schubert blown away by the drama and the story he has read."

Franz Schubert (1797 - 1828) — Gretchen am Spinnrade, D118 (Elly Ameling, soprano; Dalton Baldwin, piano) Phillips 420870

In 1958, the state of Minnesota was celebrating its centennial, and decided to commission a symphony in honor of the occasion.

Just about everyone these days knows there are a lot of Norwegians in Minnesota, but even back in 1958, that was still fairly obvious, and so it seemed a good idea to ask a Norwegian composer to write a “Minnesota Symphony.”

And who better than Harald Saeverud, one of the most distinguished composers of that day, and a composer who had just been granted Norwegian knighthood in the order of Saint Olaf, no less.

Nor was Saeverud new to the symphony-writing game. His “Minnesota Symphony” was his Symphony No. 8. Its premiere performance occurred at Northrop Auditorium in Minneapolis on today’s date in 1958, with the Minneapolis Symphony led by Antal Dorati. The capacity audience of 4000 gave Saeverud and his symphony a warm welcome.

For his part, Saeverud was equally gracious, writing: “With the map of Minnesota above my desk and with my thoughts and feelings concentrated on Minnesota’s history, I dove into the work, which proved increasingly fascinating as I became aware that it was simultaneously growing into a history of mankind.”

Harald Saeverud (1897 – 1992) — Symphony No. 8 (Minnesota) (Stavanger Symphony; Ole Kristian Ruud, cond.) BIS 972