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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Symphony review: Zuill Bailey’s artistry creates dual emotions at Masterworks 9, which closes out season with standing ovation for retiring musician Helen Byrne

Spokane Symphony conductor James Lowe, cellist Zuill Bailey and Michael Daughterty, who composed Tales of Hemmingway, stand for a standing ovation after the symphony placed Tales of Hemming on Sunday, May 11, 2025, at the Fox Theater in Spokane.  (Jonathan Brunt/The Spokesman-Review)
By Larry Lapidus For The Spokesman-Review

The past weekend saw the Spokane Symphony and Music Director James Lowe return to the Martin Woldson Theater at the Fox for the ninth and final pair of concerts of the 2024-25 season – the 79th consecutive year in the Masterworks series. Though not billed as a “gala concert,” it certainly would have qualified. The featured soloist was not only an internationally celebrated, but also a local celebrity: Zuill Bailey, who 10 years ago took the reins of the Northwest Bach Festival and transformed it into NW Bachfest – one of the country’s most admired chamber music festivals.

Adding further glamour to the occasion was the presence of Michael Dougherty, one of today’s leading composers. He came to town to attend Masterworks 9, the centerpiece of which was his concerto for cello and orchestra, “Tales from Hemingway,” which he composed 10 years ago specifically for Bailey, and a recording of which went on in 2017 to win an unprecedented three Grammys in the classical section: Best New Composition, Best Instrumental Solo and Best Album.

If that were not enough to ensure that everyone leave the concert feeling that they had been present at something unique and memorable, Maestro Lowe filled out the program with three works that displayed the brilliance of his orchestra and the acoustics of the hall at their best: Sir Edward Elgar’s (1857-1934) masterly symphonic postcard “From the South” (1904), Camille Pepin’s (b. 1990) display of orchestral wizardry “Les Eaux Céleste (Heavenly Waters)” (2022) and, to conclude, the perennial showpiece “The Pines of Rome” of 1924 by Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936).

At Saturday’s preconcert lecture, Lowe brought with him onstage both Bailey and Dougherty to provide some background to the performance of “Tales of Hemingway.” With characteristic modesty, Bailey credited the unique tonal qualities of his Gofriller cello as the reason for Dougherty’s determination that Bailey be his soloist for “Tales of Hemingway.” Yes, it is certainly a great instrument, but others have played it without attracting the acclaim that Bailey excites wherever he goes. There is no doubt that the composer heard in Bailey’s artistry the ability to convey joy tinged with sadness, hope melded with fear, love and loneliness combined. This is life, and this is also art at its greatest.

It is certainly central to the genius of earnest Hemingway. “Tales from Hemingway” comprises four movements, each portraying the central characters in four famous Hemingway works: “The Big Two-Hearted River,” “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” “The Old Man and the Sea” and “The Sun Also Rises,” each of which is seeking to regain the sense of wholeness that earlier traumas have taken from him, and succeeding, if at all, only partially. One can assume that Daugherty, with his penetrating, hyper-sensitive ear and daring aural imagination, heard in Bailey’s playing the ideal voice for each of his four wounded Hemingway anti-heroes. We certainly did.

We also witnessed a display of instrumental virtuosity that few, if any, could equal . If your notion of challenging music for the cello is based on works by Saint Saens, Schumann and Dvorak, rest assured, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. Daugherty asks his soloist to perform feats of agility and stamina both with the bow and on the fingerboard of which earlier composers never dreamed. He places great demands, also, on the orchestra’s discipline and skill, not only to impress, but to extend and amplify the listener’s awareness of Hemingway’s emotional range, from the haunted lyricism of the woodlands of Michigan, to the battlefields and bullrings of fascist Spain, to a lonely confrontation with death on the Caribbean Sea.

The ability of Daugherty’s concerto to transport us to places and times remote from our own was to be found in the other pieces on the program, as well. In her tone-poem, “Les Eaux Céleste,” Camille Pepin employs some highly original instrumental techniques to evoke the sound-world of an antique Chinese myth in which two illicit lovers are punished by the gods to spend eternity as heavenly bodies separated by the whole of the milky way, except for one day each year, during which they can rejoin one another by means of a bridge of cloud. Pepin asks percussionists to bow rather than strike their instruments producing a shimmering lyricism of uncertain pitch. She combines this with gentle, repetitive murmurings in the strings and irregular interjections from winds and brass, all of which conveys to the audience an experience of celestial energy, surging and receding over time.

The orchestral means employed by Elgar to evoke his own robust pleasure at escaping the pressures of stratified English society for the sensual joys of the Italian Riviera could hardly been more different from Pepin’s diaphanous sound-world, yet it is no less compelling. The orchestra employed by Elgar was essentially Wagner’s orchestra, which means it was strongly colored by the chorales of brass and low strings. Shortly before composing In the South, Elgar had shown his mastery of this orchestra in his “Enigma” Variations, which we heard earlier this year as part of the Masterworks 5 program. While In the South shows the same skill at mixing colors and generating compelling rhythmic energy, the flame of melodic invention burns at a much lower level, with one notable exception. Midway through the work, the bustling urgency of the opening section subsides, and Elgar evokes a calm, pastoral scene over which floats the voice of a shepherd intoning a “Canto Popolare (Popular Song)” of Elgar’s own devising.

This song, which Elgar later extracted and published as a separate piece for viola and piano, is also voiced by the viola in “In the South.” It gave us a welcome and too infrequent opportunity to enjoy the immaculate artistry of Nick Carper, principal viola of the orchestra. As always, Carper’s playing was radiantly beautiful, produced by expressing beguiling lyricism with a technique that may serve as a model for anyone attempting to capture the viola’s elusive resources. One was left with an urgent desire to hear more from this wonderful musician. For a few, treasurable measures, Elgar combines the viola in duet with the horn, which was played for us by Principal Clinton Webb, providing us with yet another occasion to feel grateful for his presence in our orchestra.

In other hands, the ingenuity with which Respighi uses the orchestra to evoke a sense of place and its atmosphere can sometimes drown out the music itself, creating an impression of vulgarity. Fortunately, this performance, which closed the program of Masterpiece 9, was safely in the hands of James Lowe, who always managed such attention-grabbing devices as an offstage trumpet or the recorded call of a nightingale (remember, this was premiered in 1924!) with a light hand. Even in the final movement, in which Respighi’s contemplation of the Pines of the Appian Way leads to a depiction of the legions of antiquity marching in triumph into Rome, one had the sense of power being held in reserve until the very climax, allowing the flute of Julia Pyke to retain its sweetness and the oboe of Keith Thomas its roundness, while the very large brass chorale sounded, as it should, not strident, but commanding.

The wild enthusiasm with which the audience greeted the conclusion of Respighi’s “Pines of Rome” was gratifying, but no surprise, given the brilliance of the performance. What was less expected, but no less justified, was the standing ovation that preceded the performance. It was the unsolicited but wholly irresistible response of the audience to Lowe’s announcement from the stage of the impending retirement, after 42 years in the orchestra, of cellist Helen Byrne. As assistant-principal cello of the orchestra, cellist of the Spokane String Quartet, organist at Manito Presbyterian Church and calm but determined spokesperson for musicians’ rights, Byrne epitomizes the strength of character, commitment to community service and devotion to the ennobling power of music that James Lowe listed as the ultimate goals of musical study. Despite Byrne’s determined gestures that we remain seated, we rose as one to express our gratitude for all this extraordinary woman has given to our community.