- Why a Saudi blogger faces a possible death sentence for three tweets
- America's big wealth gap: Is it good, bad, or irrelevant?
- Xi Jinping, future Chinese president, faces test on first White House visit (+video)
- Iran accuses Israel of setting up attacks on its own diplomats
- Valentine's Day: cost of romance rising for flower delivery, 4 other things
- No budget? No problem! The strange politics behind a budgetless America.
Don't Rain on My Tchaikovsky
After I conducted an outdoor Fourth of July concert in Colorado Springs many years ago, I received an effusive letter from a friend who had attended. He called the performance "stirring," "stimulating," "delightful." I appreciated the compliments, but in retrospect I think he was trying to console me. The circumstances surrounding the concert bore an eerie resemblance to a Boston Pops concert on the Esplanade last Fourth of July. Tchaikovsky's "1812" overture was performed at both, and both ended in a deluge.
My friend wrote: "How we felt for you when the rains began to come! It was a welcome note, albeit humorous and tragic at the same time, to hear you call for the Fort Carson cannons without further delay. As we made a dash for our car when the concert was over, I could not help thinking of the great cries to arms over the centuries. During the Indian war in frontier days it was 'Geronimo!' Years later, in Cuba, it was 'Remember the Maine!' You, Walter, in your time have not failed, for in the reenactment of the War of 1812, again and again, we heard the words, 'Barney, the cannon!' "
Being the originator of a famous war cry to be remembered for generations is heady stuff. But I must set the record straight: It was Marty, not Barney. My letter-writer's difficulty in deciphering my words is understandable, if more of the story is told.
THE cannons were four howitzers from Fort Carson, manned by United States Army cannoneers. The "1812" overture is, after all, the musical description of the battle of Borodino between the Russian Army and Napoleon's troops. Although the French withdrew in a strategic retreat, the Russians claimed a victory. The commemorative overture is perhaps the noisiest bit of program music ever written. The Russian national anthem and the Marseillaise weave in and out of the musical fabric, indicating the fortunes of the adversaries as the battle advances.
The music builds in intensity to an enormous climax in which the Russian hymn emerges triumphant, the cannons blaze away, and "church bells" (tubular chimes in the percussion section) ring out as if all the churches in Moscow are joining in celebration. All of this is accompanied by a spectacular fireworks display. This last refinement was added to further rev up the excitement - as if this composer's most flamboyant piece needs any revving-up.
The commandant of Fort Carson gave us not only cannons but also the fort's military band to add to the authenticity (not to mention the volume) of the overture's triumphal ending. Tchaikovsky scored a military band as an option. The composer also specifies the number of rounds of ammunition: 15.
At the meeting to plan the synchronization of music and military, a major presided over a staff that ran down the chain of command from captain, lieutenant, and their aides, to a staff sergeant. Each had clipboard, pens, and marker at the ready. There was much give-and-take, all with military correctness. Lots of "sirs" prefaced remarks.
Page: 1 | 2 


