Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868)
Overture to William Tell
Duration: ca. 12 minutes

What to listen for: Three short sections slowly gain momentum and launch into the final, galloping charge we all know. 

If you could invite any composer from throughout history to a dinner party, a good choice would be Gioachino Rossini. The most popular opera composer in Italy in his day, Rossini was witty, erudite, well-read and an epicurean fond of throwing lavish banquets (the French named tournedos Rossini after him). He also could be biting in his opinion of lesser souls: “I just received a Stilton and a cantata from Cipriani Potter,” he once quipped about the British composer, who was born the same year as Rossini. “The cheese was very good.” 

Rossini wrote operas for theaters in Rome, Naples, Venice and Milan, touring them much like a Broadway musical today. In 1824, he moved to Paris and penned another half-dozen operas (with sizeable royalties), notably the lengthy and demanding William Tell, finished in 1829 and the last of his 39 stage works. Modern productions are almost always abridged, and in concert halls we enjoy it vicariously through its famed overture. Millions of Americans who never set foot in an opera house know it as the Lone Ranger theme from the television series that ran from 1949 to 1957. 

The overture unfolds in connected sections, which Berlioz described as “a symphony in four parts.” The opening prelude for cellos and basses suggests the bucolic 14th-century life in Switzerland, where the action takes place. The kettledrums announce an approaching thunderstorm, followed by tense, trembling passages by violins, violas and woodwinds before the entire orchestra explodes in a fury. A lilting pastoral section depicts the calm after the storm, with elegant solos by English horn and flute. 

Then comes the finale we all know, even if its title – March of the Swiss Soldiers – escapes us. As the forces drive away Austria’s invading army, everyone in the brass section gallops in an exhilarating charge, pulling behind them an orchestra in full volume. Rossini would have been amazed by its lasting power and countless cameos, from the Ranger to Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 15 to Bugs Bunny cartoons to the movie The Princess Diaries. 

Christopher Theofanidis (1967- ) 
The Gift 
Duration: ca. 20 minutes 

What to listen for: Theofanidis tells the story through a conversation between a chorus that voices a social conscience and a simple farmer sung by the tenor. 

The Florida Orchestra continues to embrace the music of the American composer Christopher Theofanidis, having recently performed his Symphony No. 1 and Drum Circles. Now, Music Director Michael Francis brings him back with The Gift, a work written in 2013 for tenor, chorus and orchestra with a libretto by the composer’s partner, Amy Beth Kirsten. 

The Gift is based on a folk tale common in India and Pakistan and tells the story of a farmer, Wali Dad, who wants to be left alone on his land with nature. He works the fields each day, takes produce to market to sell and saves money in a clay pot. Over the years, he gains wealth but has little need or desire for it. 

So, he buys some jewelry and sends it to a young queen named Kaistan. She assumes it came from a prosperous lord and responds by sending him a camel carrying a saddle full of luxurious silk. Wali Dad rejects her gift and passes it on to the young King of Nekabad. In return, the King responds by sending Wali Dad 12 of his finest horses. Annoyed, he ships the animals to the queen. This shuffling of gifts continues with a growing trove of gold, elephants and other largesse.  

The king and queen of the two distant lands become so intrigued by the scale of Wali Dad’s gifts that they decide to meet him. When they arrive from separate journeys, he realizes that his escape from this madness is to broker their marriage, creating a new kingdom that allows him peace and solitude. 

“It’s about the generosity of spirit,” Francis said. “It’s got this fantastic, vibrant musical language that Theofanidis has, and tells this brilliant story. When I first heard it, I thought it would be perfect to do here, and so we are.”

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) 
Wellington’s Victory, Op. 91 
Duration: ca. 15 minutes  

What to listen for: Beethoven inserts musical patriotism into the score with the anthems Rule, Britannia! and God Save the King, and lets loose a salvo of artillery fire.  

If you happened to be in Vienna in 1813 and attended the first performance of Beethoven’s Wellington’s Victory, you’d want to keep any negative opinions to yourself. No, this wasn’t Beethoven at his best, but you didn’t tell him that. One critic did. An indignant Beethoven responded, saying even what he discards “is better than anything you could ever think up.”  

Wellington’s Victory has taken its lumps ever since. In his book Beethoven: Anguish and Triumph, Jan Swafford calls it “a colossal piece of opportunistic, gimmicky, fortissimo hokum.” The New York Times described it as “a sonic assault on the listener,” and in his popular biography, Lewis Lockwood dubs it “a shameless concession to the political wave of the moment.” 

So, why did a composer of such genius and idealism write this potboiler? His “concession” was to the public response to the Napoleonic Wars raging across Europe, making so-called battle music a popular theme. Beethoven got an offer from the opportunist Johann Nepomuk Mälzel (the inventor of the metronome), who suggested that he write for his new contraption, the panharmonicon, a mechanical device that made sounds using keys attached to pins on a revolving drum, like a music box. While intrigued, Beethoven preferred his piece for an orchestra – not a toy – which meant income from ticket sales. 

“There is no reason to question the genuineness of Beethoven’s patriotic feelings or the desire to celebrate the impending conclusion of the Napoleonic Wars,” writes the Beethoven scholar Maynard Solomon. “There is little doubt, however, that the popular acclaim and financial reward reaped by Wellington’s Victory tempted him to mine this vein for all it was worth.” 

The music celebrates the French army’s defeat by the British, Spanish and Portuguese under the Duke of Wellington at Vitoria in Spain. Beethoven sketched it in two parts: the battle and the victory, and wove a popular song into each, Rule, Britannia! and God Save the King, respectively.  

It begins with a snare drum playing a military march, followed by horns announcing the arrival of forces. Soon can be heard the French folk tune Marlborough Has Left for the War (later to be known as For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow) before everything descends into the chaos of battle and the orchestra reappears in celebratory fanfare – and lots of gunfire. Wellington’s Victory holds its place as one of classical music’s great noisemakers, said TFO Music Director Michael Francis. 

“It features two warring orchestras, the French and the British against each other, so it’s antiphonal,” he said. “And there’s the sound of battle so it’s very theatrical, a sort of musical carnage.” 

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) 
1812 Overture, Op. 49 
Duration: ca. 16 minutes 

What to listen for: Tchaikovsky opens the work with a mournful chant using minimal forces – a half dozen cellos and violas – then builds to one of the most explosive climaxes in music.  

Since The Florida Orchestra’s inception in 1968 – then called the Florida Gulf Coast Symphony – Tchaikovsky’s rousing 1812 Overture has been a loud part of its history in parks, pops and classical concerts. Like the Rossini on this program, it begins softly, builds and releases tension, and then pops the cork. 

While the orchestra usually plays the same score, the percussion section had to be inventive in mimicking the sound of 16 cannon shots. On stage in the 1980s at the old McKay Auditorium, this was done by firing blanks from a gun into a 55-gallon drum half filled with sand. But the buildup of smoke forced the orchestra to call a ceasefire on that technique. In open-air park concerts, they used pint-sized cannons with ear-splitting bangs and plenty of smoke – all to the delight of children. 

Today, the orchestra takes a more sophisticated approach, said John Shaw, TFO’s Principal Percussionist who has been with the group for 30 years: “We use actual cannon sounds loaded onto an electronic drum pad and we plug it in and run it through speakers. The pad is sensitive, so when I hit it, I can make it softer or louder.” 

The music’s firepower symbolizes the more than 1,000 cannons the French army used during its invasion of Moscow at the bloody Battle of Borodino in 1812 (not to be confused with the War of 1812 between the United States and Great Britain). The composer didn’t think too highly of his 16-minute work, dismissing it as “very loud and noisy and completely without artistic merit.” 

But its inspiring moments keep it coming back to the concert hall, including the opening Russian lament, O Lord, Save Thy People – played by just four cellos and two violas – and the contrast between the national anthems of the two warring armies, La Marseillaise and God Save the Tsar.  

Kurt Loft is a journalist and music critic who has covered classical music for various publications and arts groups for more than 45 years. A member of the Music Critics Association of North America, he lives in St. Petersburg.