A Sample of Circus Maximus

I recorded this sampling of the John Corigliano piece that Cara performed in Napa Valley, CA this summer. Cara plays throughout the piece but her solo begins with 2 minutes remaining at the end of this part. The entire piece is over 30 minutes in length. Turn up your speakers to get the full effect of the music. There is no video only audio.
Concert Review from "Napa Valley Register"

Leonine sound of 'Circus Maximus' blasts Festival into artistic stratosphere

By L. PIERCE CARSON
Register Staff Writer
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Commissioned and performed by the University of Texas at Austin Wind Ensemble, John Corigliano's "Circus Maximus" underscores the nature of spectacle by presenting one.

Both earsplitting assault and swipe at our current hedonistic times, Corigliano's third symphony was the featured work on an impressive Festival del Sole program staged at Yountville's Lincoln Theater Sunday afternoon.

Written for woodwinds, brass and percussion instruments, Corigliano's incredible opus is best described by the composer himself. Although he was ill and not able to attend Sunday's concert, the composer explained in program notes that he was "influenced by a desire to write a piece in which the entire work is conceived spatially. But I started simply wondering what dramatic premise would justify the encirclement of the audience by musicians, so that they were in the center of an arena. This started my imagination going, and quite suddenly a title appeared in my mind: Circus Maximus.

"The Latin words, understandable in English, convey an energy and power by themselves. But the Circus Maximus of ancient Rome was a real place — the largest arena in the world — 300,000 spectators were entertained by chariot races, hunts and battles. The Roman need for grander and wilder amusement grew as its empire declined."
Corigliano feels that "parallels between the high decadence of Romeand our present time are obvious. Entertainment dominates our reality, and ever-more-extreme 'reality' shows dominate our entertainment. Many of us have become as bemused by the violence and humiliation that flood the 500-plus channels of our television screens as the mobs of imperial Rome, who considered the devouring of human beings by starving lions just another Sunday show.

"The shape of my Circus Maximus was built both to embody and to comment on this massive and glamorous barbarity."

And that it did, in glorious surround-sound that had saxophones serenading the audience from the balcony, trumpets sounding alarms from strategic points along the outer walls of the auditorium, even a marching band prancing up and down the aisles as the larger ensemble held forth on stage.

Before he gave the initial downbeat, conductor Jerry F. Junkin termed the work "a warning as much as it is a piece of music." He did inform us that loud passages might make our pulses race and a surprise ending might shock.

Then, as cleverly arranged by the composer, Junkin and company set in motion a dazzling performance of a work that demands to be heard. I was impressed with the stationing of brass among the aisles, allowing for blasts of sound across the seats, and then calling on the trumpeters to play intricate parts without flaw. As one might expect, the Texans performed gloriously — and flawlessly.

In fact, so did the entire 75-member ensemble, whether it was saxophones playing a siren song from on high or percussion and winds conjuring up music of the night from both urban and outback settings, brass and drums heralding a new dawn, or all 75 musicians revving up to imitate an errant channel surfer flirting with white noise. If there was a disappointment, it was that the "shocking" final sound didn't sound like a shotgun blast at all.

Nevertheless, Corigliano's "Circus Maximus" got its point across in sometimes joyous, sometimes sinister fashion. Nobody slept through this work.

As if this wasn't enough, Sunday's concert was more than just the gargantuan Corigliano work. It included a work that Igor Stravinsky composed for piano and wind orchestra. Throughout the 20th century, Stravinsky also embraced a new world of sound. Whatever he came up with was original, surprising and challenging.

A taxing work to be sure, Stravinsky's "Concerto for Piano and Wind" received an impeccable performance fromJohannesburg native Anton Nel and members of the University of Texas at Austin Wind Ensemble.

Maestro Junkin's meticulous lead allowed for an ideal partnership with the soloist. It was the central Largo that stood out, wonderfully cool and reflective, immediately offset by the brilliance of the finale. This was an ideal marriage of soloist and orchestra, an ideal reading.

Also pleasing was the program opener, selected works from a collection of 38 dances by 16th century composer Tielman Susato, called "The Danserye."

This was music for sackbuts and timbrels, with bassoons belching, triangles ringing, brass singing, plus maidens fair and lords a' leaping. Very medieval — or was that a Renaissance-style galliard they were hopping to?

And the lights stayed on. Although I bet all hell would have broken loose if they'd gone out like they did last Friday night — and we'd have thought Corigliano had written it into his score.