As anticipated, the piece commences with a screech of strings. A viola finds its voice and rises to a lament before giving way to a waiting woodwind section. Frolicking flutes leap, carefree, from one note to the next, light as laughter, no concerns to convey. Next, percussion crashes in unannounced, crude and comical in this otherwise complex composition.
Nothing is as exciting thereafter: brass brings some brief beauty; the trumpet has moments of triumph. A slow easing now begins, dwindling down to the final notes, all voices fading to whispers.
The very walls hold their breath before the inevitable thunder.
Nothing is as exciting thereafter: brass brings some brief beauty; the trumpet has moments of triumph. A slow easing now begins, dwindling down to the final notes, all voices fading to whispers.
The very walls hold their breath before the inevitable thunder.
