I saw my first Colorado Springs Philharmonic concert of this season on Saturday night and a flood of musings and reflections came pouring into in my head as a result. First and foremost: Wow! How is it possible that this community doesn’t go mad for these offerings every time they happen? Those who took the easy leap of faith and ventured downtown on this gorgeous evening will all say the same. It looked to be three-fifths of a house, so there were plenty of seats to be had.
The product we beheld was absolutely stunning: The Pikes Peak Center remains the best place within 1,000 miles to hear an orchestral or opera performance. The sound is rich and reverberant, and its visual setting is equally engaging. The stage was packed with more than 80 professionals … that’s right — musicians with degrees and on-the-job experience that would make your finest physician or attorney blush with inadequacy.
Conductor Lawrence Leighton Smith looked to be dragging on his way to the podium — an impression instantly dispelled when he gave the downbeat on this two-plus hours of music.
The concert began with the mushy but sonically stimulating “Death and Transfiguration” of Richard Strauss but was transformed by American music — the First Symphony of Samuel Barber. Defying conventional wisdom, the second and far more strident and edgy of the opening works, swept the crowd away through its undeniable intensity, rhythmic relentlessness and soul-searching aura — even though few had heard it before. The Orchestra feasted on the challenge, and it showed.
After an intermission that gave everyone a chance to share the excitement of the moment, cellist Daniel Lee from the St. Louis Symphony gave an almost perfect and emotionally charged reading of one of the repertoire’s great challenges — the Elgar Cello Concerto — with the orchestra matching his intensity and commitment. Although we already had had our fair share of musical magic, there was still the raucous “Rumanian Rhapsody No. 1” by Georges Enescu to come.
After an evening of intense explorations of the human condition, its meaningless orgy of symphonic sounds and folk melodies was the perfect prescription to send us all home strutting and humming.
So here’s the deal: anybody, regardless of their musical inclination, would have loved this concert. Classical music in these parts remains some sort of sacred cow that everyone admires but far too few deem worth the worship. The press certainly doesn’t help much. Our TV stations gave lots of airtime to the orchestra when it was teetering on extinction back in 2003, but barely acknowledge its existence now that normalcy has ensued. The product is just not hip enough for The Independent, which seems to truly know what really is good art and what is just your grandfather’s embarrassing excesses.
I still can never understand how The Gazette can let an event that more than 2,000 attend and could accommodate close to 4,000 not get marquee coverage every time — sorry folks, there’s just nothing of this kind of consistent quality that comes close around here. This concert received but a blurb on Page 3 of this section; albeit a long overdue and pleasant profile of Nathan Newbrough, the Philharmonic’s new executive director, appeared in the Gazette’s Life section on the day of this concert. (I can’t help but mention that almost two months ago my far more hard-hitting interview with this man, who is trying to rescue this organization from spinning out of orbit, graced the pages of Springs Magazine.)
The Arts Summit held the previous weekend inspired me to conjure up an image (perhaps you’ve heard it before) of what the arts are for this community: a pig with lipstick on it. We who live in and love the arts know this couldn’t be further from the truth. But that’s how it occurs for 99 percent of the people in the Pikes Peak region. Peakradar.com has done a fine makeover on our prized possessions, but the phone’s just not ringing like it should.
Trust me on this one — there’s nothing “sausagey” about the symphony. You can’t count on this message coming to you from the media. Just plop down twenty bucks and go to a concert. Wear what you like, bring your grandmother — she’ll be mightily impressed with you. I know it’s not “Dancing with the Stars” — but it is communing with the gods.
David Sckolnik



