Bohemian Fire
What to Listen For
Umoja - Anthem of Unity:
Originally a simple song for women’s voices to celebrate Kwanzaa, Coleman’s Umoja evolved into a signature anthem of unity. Listen for the elegant, folk-like melody that recurs throughout the piece, beginning with sustained passages that float and shift from a bowed vibraphone to the solo violin’s statement of the melody in its simplest form. Listen, too, for rhythmic interplay: the meter dances between written (3/4) and implied (6/8). These shifting, syncopated three-against-two rhythms give Umoja an infectious, lilting feel that captures the beat of the African diaspora.
Coleman uses Call-and-Response to honor traditional African practices, so listen for a “conversational” style of music where different instruments or sections answer each other. Note the sudden, dissonant exchanges between brass and percussion. Can you hear them? Coleman intends these moments to represent the clashes of injustices and racism. They are ultimately resolved by a return to the gentle, unifying anthem.
Cello Concerto:
Jennifer Higdon’s Cello Concerto blends the cellist’s lyrical, singing melodies with adventurous orchestral textures and colors. To get the most out of the piece, listen for its overarching “poetic scaffolding” structure, the soloist’s interplay with unconventional percussion, and the concerto’s overall emotional arc.
Poet
Listen for the sweeping, highly emotional, and melancholy melodies in this opening movement. Poet established the solo cello as an opera singer-poet. Listen for the solo cello’s melodic line.
Dances
Listen for a fast, virtuosic second movement that showcases the soloist’s dancing, technical agility, while pushing the orchestra into highly rhythmic and driving pulses.
Fervent
Listen for the change of tempo and the deep tones of the cello in this highly expressive, contemplative movement that slows the pace to highlight the low, warmer registers of the cello.
Lines
In the athletic finale, Higdon resolves tension with brilliant, continuous motion before the piece takes its quiet, reflective bow.
Symphony No. 7 in D minor:
Dvořák’s conception of Symphony No. 7 was inspired by his friendship with Brahms. Brahms’ symphonies were not structural models for Dvořák, but, in a way, provided a spiritual framework for him.
Allegro maestoso:
Listen for the mysterious opening rumble of the low timpani, horns, and double basses, which critics say mimics an approaching train or a steam engine. (Dvořák was an avid train enthusiast.) A wistful, gentle, and lyrical Brahmsian second subject follows; Dvořák develops it into an intense climax, before letting it trail off with a quieter air of mystery. In this movement, nervous energy and dark, stormy themes predominate.
Poco adagio:
Listen for the sudden, impassioned statements that disturb the calm, lovely dialogue between the woodwinds and French horns.
Scherzo – Vivace:
Dvořák has not written a traditional, lighthearted scherzo; instead, he has provided a sharp, aggressive, and hammering rhythm, reminiscent of the Czech dance, the furiant. What does the composer do to interrupt the tension? Listen for the sweet, pastoral melody that the flute and the oboe introduce in the tranquil central trio section. Its tranquillity breaks the rhythmic tension before returning to the Scherzo’s opening theme.
Finale – Allegro:
The finale is an intense march-like journey, beginning stormily and filled with a sense of menace and Slavic earthiness. Can you hear a resemblance to the first movement? Listen closely as the sweeping, lyrical cello melody grows and takes the orchestra toward the light. The symphony ends triumphantly, with elegant majesty in a spirited conclusion.
Valerie Coleman: Umoja - Anthem of Unity
Born: September 3, 1970, in Louisville, Kentucky
Date of composition: orchestral arrangement: 2019
Premiere: Umoja, in woodwind quintet form: 1997
Orchestration: originally for woodwind quintet: flute, oboe, clarinet, French horn, bassoon, but here performed in its orchestral arrangement.
Valerie Coleman is an iconic artist/composer, Grammy-nominated flutist, and entrepreneur. Highlighted as one of the “Top 35 Women Composers” by The Washington Post, she was also named Performance Today’s 2020 Classical Woman of the Year, an honor bestowed on her for her significant contribution to classical music. She is among the world’s most performed composers living today, and her compositions are easily recognizable for their inspired style. Chamber Music America chose her wind quintet work, Umoja, Anthem for Unity, as one of the “101 Great American Works.” It is now a staple of woodwind literature.
Coleman has served on the faculty of The Juilliard School’s Music Advancement Program and Interschool Orchestras of New York. Currently, she is on the advisory panel of the National Flute Association.
Coleman’s music infuses contemporary orchestration with jazz, Afro-Cuban traditions, various distinct sonorities drawn from across Africa, and inspiration from her African-American musical heritage. In 2024, Revelry was nominated for a Grammy award, her second, for Best Contemporary Classical Composition.
Coleman began her music studies in the third grade. By age 14, she had written three symphonies and had won several local and state competitions. An active composer and educator, she received a double bachelor’s degree in theory/composition and Flute Performance from Boston University and a Master’s Degree in Flute Performance from Mannes College of Music in New York.
Creator and founder of the acclaimed Imani Winds, whose almost 30-year legacy is documented and featured in a dedicated exhibit at the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C., she is the co-founder and flutist of the performer-composer trio Umama Womama.
The success of the world premiere of Coleman’s orchestral arrangement of her work Umoja, commissioned by The Philadelphia Orchestra and first performed in Philadelphia and at Carnegie Hall in September 2019, marked the first time the orchestra performed a classical work by a living female African American composer.
Coleman composed a simple song for the women's choir using Umoja, the Swahili word for Unity, and the first principle of the African Diaspora holiday, Kwanzaa, as its title. It transmitted a sense of ‘tribal unity,’ evoking the feel of a drum circle, transmitting history through the traditional “call and response” form, and anchoring itself in the memorable sing-song melody. Coleman then composed Umoja for woodwind quintet; in that form, the work attained fame.
More than two decades after the original wind quintet, the orchestral version brought an expansion and sophistication to the short, sweet melody. This melody dances through all the instrument families, interrupted by dissonant interjections from the brass and percussion, which represent the clash of racism and hate that threatens to gain a foothold in the world today. Spiky textures turn into an aggressive exchange between upper woodwinds and percussion, before the melody returns as a gentle reminder of kindness and humanity. Through the brass-led ensemble tutti, the journey ends with a bold call of unity that brings back the original anthem. Each of the versions has its own unique voice that is informed by Coleman’s ever-evolving creativity.
Coleman declares, “This version honors the simple melody that ever was but is now a full exploration into the meaning of freedom and unity. Now more than ever, Umoja has to ring as a strong and beautiful anthem for the world we live in today.”
Jennifer Higdon: Cello Concerto
Born: December 31, 1962
Date of Composition: 2026
Premiere: World Premiere: April 19, 2026, performed by Julian Schwarz and the Rochester Philharmonic at the Kodak Hall, Rochester, NY
Orchestration: 3 Flutes (3rd doubling on Piccolo), 3 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, 1 Bass Clarinet, 2 Bassoons, and 1 Contrabassoon, 4 French horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, and 1 tuba, timpani (3 percussionists), 1 harp, 1 piano, 1 celesta, and strings
Jennifer Higdon is one of the most popular contemporary American composers. She ranked second, after John Adams, in a statistical analysis of living American composers whose compositions are most performed. She holds a Ph.D. and an M.A. in Composition from the University of Pennsylvania.
The Cello Concerto has four movements and, in honor of its dedicatee, Julian Schwarz, is preeminently lyrical. “Julian [Schwarz] has an incredible sound,” she says, “and I really wanted to show off his playing.”
Her preparation for composing the work embraced a study of many masterpieces for the cello: “The repertoire has an incredible history, from Bach to the Dvořák concerto, and it all has something to give.” The composer and the soloist emailed each other, maintaining contact through the composing process: “That’s an advantage Beethoven never had!” said Higdon.
Higdon’s concerto showcases the orchestra layers. “Knowing what the RPO players are capable of, I wanted to allow them to show off as well,” she says. For example, listen closely to the percussion section; she frequently incorporates unconventional instruments to add metallic, shimmering, or woody timbres to the background, blending them directly into the traditional strings and brass. In addition, Higdon crafted “many chamber music-like passages where it’s just Julian and a couple of instruments.” There’s a practical aspect to this decision: although the cello can sing a melody like an opera singer, it does not project strongly and is easily drowned out by an orchestra. A successful cello concerto is a balancing act.
Schwarz describes her new work as “kind of a chamber concerto. I often play with soloists within the orchestra. She has a vocal, lyrical approach to the cello, and I love the different tonal colors in her compositions. Higdon is also an excellent painter in music. She lets every orchestral color […] shine. The colors in this work include solo woodwinds and brass, and a percussion section including glass bottles and knitting needles, creating music that strikes a compelling balance between novelty and approachability.”
In her program notes, Higdon wrote, “When getting to know Julian’s playing, I was struck by the lyrical gift that he brings to the cello; I knew immediately that melody would be at the heart of this work.” She continued, “In the initial stages of composing, the first movement’s title of ‘Poet’ inspired the idea that all the movement titles should be related in a way that if those titles were lined up sequentially, I would have a little poem: Poet Dances Fervent Lines. It is an apt description of this piece, and of the magnificent history of this noble instrument, as well as a tribute to the gifted cellist, Julian Schwarz.”
Higdon has received awards from the Guggenheim Foundation, the American Academy of Arts & Letters (two awards), the Pew Fellowship in the Arts, Meet-the-Composer, the National Endowment for the Arts, and ASCAP. In January 2010, Higdon received a GRAMMY for Best Contemporary Classical Composition. She has been a featured composer at the Tanglewood, Vail, Cabrillo, Grand Teton, Norfolk, and Winnipeg festivals. In the summer of 2003, she was the first woman to be named a featured composer at Tanglewood’s Contemporary Music Festival. She currently holds the Milton L. Rock Chair in Composition Studies at The Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia.
Antonín Dvořák: Symphony No. 7 in D minor
Born: September 8, 1841, in Nelahozeves
Died: May 1, 1904, in Prague
Date of Composition: March 1885
Premiere: Dvořák conducted the premiere on April 22, 1885, at a concert of the Philharmonic Society in London
Orchestration: piccolo and 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, and strings
Dvořák’s New World Symphony (Symphony No. 9) has greater popularity, but many critics and historians contend that his Symphony No. 7is his best. Dvořák’s conception of this symphony was inspired by his friendship with Brahms. In 1875, Brahms discovered the remarkably talented younger man, then still a relatively obscure figure; Brahms opened the way to a great career for Dvořák. The two became fast friends. In 1884, Dvořák’s music was hugely successful in London, and when the Royal Philharmonic Society asked him to compose a symphony, he sat down to write something he felt would be comparable to Brahms’s new symphony. He hoped it would increase his reputation in England, but he did not want to compromise his national identity; he wanted the music to illustrate his deep feelings for Czech nationalism. He worked on his Symphony No. 7 from December 1884 to March 1885. On April 22, 1885, at a concert of the Philharmonic Society in London, he conducted its premiere. It was brilliantly successful, and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra soon introduced it in the United States.
Brahms’ symphony was not a structural model for Dvořák, but it provided a spiritual framework. Dvořák said this symphony “must shake the world, and with God’s help, it will.” While Dvořák seems to have consciously avoided using material directly quoting Bohemian folksongs and dances. His themes, as critic Jonathan Kramer says, are “not quite folk tunes, yet they nonetheless share with Bohemian peasant songs certain inflections, certain scales, certain rhythms that come perhaps from the speech patterns in the Czech language. The music does express the spirit of the Czech people.” Early critics who noticed the symphony’s kinship to Brahms’s symphony wrote that they preferred Dvořák’s because its spirit and Bohemian character are so distinctly Dvořák’s.
Dvořák’s regular publisher offered him only a small fee for the symphony with the added condition that Dvořák also deliver a new set of popular (and profitable) Slavonic Dances. Dvořák, outraged, replied angrily that his symphony was worth double what was offered, yet the publisher was adamant; in the end, he paid for the extra Slavonic Dances, Opus 72.
Only five of Dvořák’s nine symphonies were published during his lifetime. This one, the second to appear, was issued as Symphony No. 2. Two more appeared posthumously, shortly before World War 1. Since then, the custom has been to number them more accurately, in chronological order, making this one Symphony No. 7.
© Susan Halpern, 2026