Touching Lives for Fifty Years

The Bettendorf Park Band in warmer times.

Our country has always been a nation of immigrants. From the earliest settlers to those seeking a better life, all have contributed to this great melting pot of humanity. And all have brought to this land the cultural wealth that has enriched us all. This is what the Bettendorf Park Band will celebrate in its 50th Anniversary Season Opening Concert, Friday, November 3.

Many Italian-Americans came to Iowa to work in the coal mines and settled in southern parts of the state. The Societa Stemma D’Italia, Mutuo Soccorso (Mutual Assistance), established in 1898, included in its articles of incorporation, “The particular and principal objects of the said Society are for the benevolent and charitable purposes to aid and secure the members in case of need and practice benevolent and charity work to all.” The organization exists to this day as Des Moines's Society of Italian Americans. Our tribute to these pioneers is Eduardo Boccalari's Il Bersagliere, the "Italian Riflemen."

Danza Espagnola, by Rosario Carcione pays homage to the large Hispanic communities in the nation and in Iowa. Immigrants from Central and South America have brought their own unique heritage and ethic to make this land a better place. Currently, two men of Hispanic roots serve on the City Council of Dubuque.

Inside St. Wenceslaus Church
Spillville, Iowa

Among the most well known of Iowa's immigrant populations are the Bohemians. Early Czech immigrants to Iowa settled in farming communities, most notably at Spillville in the northeast corner of the state. In 1893 the famous Czech composer, Antonin Dvorak, who was living in New York City, spent a summer in Spillville where he was able to work on his music surrounded by his fellow Czechs. A large community would spring forth in Cedar Rapids, now the home of the National Czech and Slovak Museum. Albert Oliver Davis's Bohemian Scene, is a brief three-movement setting of folk pieces, including on reminiscent of the dance music of Dvorak.

Nordic Fest, Decorah
(Is that really a marching orchestra?)

Decorah is renowned as Iowa's center of Norwegian heritage. Luther College, an institution of Norwegian-American descent, is among the highly regarded colleges in the country. The Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum is the national Norwegian-American museum and heritage center, with over 24,000 artifacts, 12 historic buildings, a Folk Art School, and a library and archives. Arlin Snesrud's Norwegian Folk Rhapsody uses six folk songs and dance tunes to create a delightful panoply of the sights and sounds of Scandinavia.

Warren Barker' Ireland is a "true Irish medley" with arrangements of "Saint Patrick's Day," "Donnybrook," "The Irish Washerwoman," "I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen," and "The Kerry Dance."

Other stops on our musical tour and tribute include:

• March Suite Britannia by John Cacavas, a stirring martial suite (Great Britain.)

• John Tatgenhorst's arrangement of Scottish folk songs, Gary Owen and Scotland, the Brave.

• A three-movement suite entitled Bartok for Band (Hungary.)

• The finale from Hector Berlioz's monumental symphony for band, the Marche Triomphale (France.)

• Rimsky-Korsakov's stirring Coronation Scene from "Ivan the Terrible" (Russia.)

• A return "home" with a march by euphonium virtuoso Russell Alexander, From Tropic to Tropic. (Nearly all of Alexander's compositions are published by Iowa's own C. L. Barnhouse Co., in Oskaloosa.)

The concert takes place at the Herbert T. Goettsch Community Center, 2204 Grant Street in Bettendorf. THIS FRIDAY, November 3 at 7:30 PM. Admission is free. Come and enjoy.

WOW! Thou shalt not perform transcriptions

I have had a number of mentors in my conducting training. As a whole, they could be broken down into a few different groups:

• Those who refuse to perform transcriptions. "There's too much great original literature written for the wind band; why play a transcription of an orchestral work?" These are usually the wind ensemble guys, and they really don't like marches either.

• Those who play transcriptions, transcriptions, and more transcriptions, with a march tossed in for variety. "These are the warhorses that I grew up with; if they are good enough for me, they're good enough for my students! Hrumph!"

• Those who fall somewhere in-between. The transcriptions are not "bread and butter" of programming, but are included for reasons to be discussed below.

As conductors, we are products of our education and those teachers who encouraged us to rise up to challenges of the repertoire and to the students in our care. I have been fortunate to study with some of our finest pedagogues in both the short and long terms. Suffice to say, nearly all have been extremely opinionated about one or more facets of our art. That's not necessarily a bad thing, as long as the advice does not force exclusionary tactics into our own teaching and repertoire choices.

Lest I drift away from the point, here is a program of a concert by the John Philip Sousa band:

           

What fun! Sousa concerts often included overtures that were well-known orchestral works (Berlioz's Roman Carnival was a favorite) or other pieces that had fallen by the wayside. Soloists always appeared: this concert had three(!): the usual cornetist, sometimes a violinist, and always, one of Sousa's "ladies in white" singing a tune or two. Here we have works by Chopin, Sarasate, Percy Grainger, and the "well-known composer," Preston Ware Orem. Sprinkled throughout were a large number of encores, almost always a Sousa march. These were introduced by a lovely young woman who placed a large placard containing the title on an easel. Needless to say, this is much different than standard concert fare.

The Bill Revelli everyone "knew and loved."
He and Kruschev probably got along well.

The University of Michigan Symphony Band, as noted in programs from its groundbreaking tour of the Soviet Union in 1961, performed a large number of transcriptions. Just a handful include:

• Rimsky-Korsakov: Procession of the Nobles (almost unheard of in orchestra halls)

• Respighi: The Pines of Rome

• Wagner: "Elsa's Procession to the Cathedral," from Lohengrin
• Kabalevsky: Comedian's Galop

The transcription is part of the heritage of the wind band. Audiences in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries couldn't hear the "masterworks" unless they lived near a city large enough to support a symphony orchestra. That left it up to the great touring bands, as well as the burgeoning community band movement, to provide a vital part of America's musical education (and lots of entertainment. Compare the Sousa program above with a typical university band concert:

(from November 2016):

George Friderich (sic) Handel: Music for the Royal Fireworks

D. J. Sparr: Cloud of Witnesses

Michael Daugherty: Reflections on the Mississippi (tuba and wind ensemble)

Henry Brant: Whoopee in D for a very fine orchestra

Morton Gould: Symphony No. 4, West Point

All original works for the contemporary wind band (except Handel). Individually, some excellent moments I am sure, but collectively? I'm trying to figure out if I'd want to shell out money to hear this? And the sacrilege: not a march to be heard.

I have few negatives to offer about the playing of transcriptions unless they sound downright silly. Once I listened to a very talented ensemble perform 1812 Overture about as well as a band probably could. It sounded ridiculous. Berlioz is hard to pull off but Wagner is made for the wind band, and so are works by composers who have been lost to time:

Giuseppe Verdi was composing "marches by the hundreds" long before he aspired to write an opera. Rimsky-Korsakov held a civilian post as Inspector of Naval Bands. There are many more.

It all boils down to one main point. For whom are we playing? Our own egos? Or the (often) paying public? I'm not even suggesting trying to pander to an audience; rather, my axiom is to educate them without knowing it. Fans will show their support in many ways: boisterous applause, stunned silence during which no one wants to break "the moment," and with their feet. It's almost as easy to run them out of the hall if all they hear is esoteric programming. BUT, on the other hand, if you build it, they will come.