A few days before the Phoenix Symphony’s Saturday evening performance, my travels through Arizona brought me to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. It was with those sprawling, surreal vistas still fresh in memory that I approached their performance of Ferde Grofé’s Grand Canyon Suite. Written almost a century ago – mere seconds in the geologic time of the ancient canyon – it was once a mainstay of American orchestral music, but seems to have somewhat fallen out of vogue in recent years.
Guest conductor Thomas Wilkins and the Phoenix musicians proved that it’s a remarkable work that captures a remarkable landscape. Gentle wisps and flutters in the woodwinds began, burgeoning into a brilliant sunrise. The following Painted Desert movement was almost impressionist in language, with piquant splashes of iridescent colors. Some softer dynamics here might have helped sharpen contrasts.
The central On the Trail began with the unmistakable sounds of the braying mule and the clip-clop of hoofs as one descends to the bottom of the canyon, equine in tow. Concertmaster Rolf Haas offered a sizzling solo passage, and most strikingly, an extended paragraph for celesta alone vividly painted the scene. Sunset was touchingly reflective at the close of day, and following a rich melody in the strings, the concluding Cloudburst evoked the raw power of a storm, drawing to a spectacular climax, fittingly grand.
Each subscription program this season includes a “mystery piece” selected by the conductor and announced from the stage. Wilkins opted for the brief Moon Dusk from William Grant Still’s suite Wood Notes. Enhanced by its lustrous orchestration, this peaceful interlude functioned as a lovely prelude to the Grofé.
The first half of the program explored a panoply of Mexican-American influences, beginning with Copland’s El Salón México. Brassy textures conveyed a bright and coloristic evocation of the titular nightclub, with sultry dance rhythms keeping things lively into the wee hours of the morning. The percussion section was kept quite busy, adding texture and vitality.
The newest piece performed was the 2021 violin concerto Fandango by Mexican composer Arturo Márquez. As the title suggests, the work takes its cue from Spanish dance, but in this case, as it morphed when it migrated to the Americas. Rumblings in the orchestra began the 15-minute opening movement Folia tropical, leading straightaway to an impassioned line for violin soloist Francisco Fullana. Resonant brass underpinned the soundscape, though sometimes the thick orchestration obscured the soloist. Fullana dazzled with a limber, flexible bow technique, playing in nearly continuous motion.
Gentle pulses began the central Plegaria, and a lyrical melody in the violin became increasingly intricate in a rough imitation of a Chaconne. Some particularly touching material for harp concluded the movement. An arresting monologue for violin began the closing Fandanguito, filled with Paganini-like pyrotechnics. Raucous stuff, leading to a thunderous close. Fullana indulged the enthusiastic audience with an encore, a delightfully jazzy set of elaborations on Amazing Grace.
