MADE IN AMERICA PROGRAM NOTES

PROGRAM NOTES

Last summer, I was introduced to Luigi Zaninelli’s stirring setting of our national anthem by the arranger himself by way of a version for band. I was delighted to learn that it was also available for orchestra with optional chorus and knew immediately that it needed to open this program. Luigi is a Southern Miss legend, and for those of you who don’t know this setting, you are in for a wonderful surprise.

Two years into this new venture in Hattiesburg, I consider myself so fortunate to work with amazing students, in a supportive environment, and with world-class colleagues. In late November of 2024, I sat in this very church for a dress rehearsal of our orchestra with the Hattiesburg Choral Union. I was dumbstruck with the quality of singing I was listening to. I am sure the Hattiesburg community knows what a treasure they have with the direction and artistry provided by Greg Fuller and the whole choral area. While the Holiday Choral Spectacular is a beloved tradition that I look forward to continuing for years to come, I am also incredibly excited about a series of collaborations we are cooking up for you over the next two seasons and beyond.

Randall Thompson subtitles Frostiana as “Seven country songs

by Robert Frost.” Thompson’s direct musical language is eminently approachable and a perfect match for this poetry. Written for the bicentennial of Amherst, Massachusetts (a town I grew up about two hours from with strong family connections), Thompson was tasked to write for a chorus that rehearsed the men and women separately.

His solution, only write for the full choir in three songs and only have them sing together in two of them. It is touching, nuanced and as American as apple pie.

Cindy is also steeped in American history. A popular folksong of unknown origin (though surely Southern!), the setting on this evening’s program gets the full Mack Wilberg treatment. The acclaimed conductor of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is a leading voice in all things choral in our country. Large orchestra, interesting rhythms, unexpected plot twists – I think you’ll love it.

Aaron Copland is frequently referred to as the “Dean” of American composers.

Over the span of about 10 years commencing in the late 1930s, he created many of the most beloved works ever written by an American. His music defines an American sound that fit hand in hand with the optimism found at the end of World War II. Works such as Appalachian Spring and Lincoln Portrait, incorporated traditional American melodies, while Rodeo and Billy the Kid painted the picture of an American west that inspired millions. But as I have been explaining to the orchestra, we also must keep in mind that Copland grew up in Brooklyn surrounded by concrete, steel and glass. For all the beauty and majesty to be found in this populist decade, there is a sharper edge that can be found in scores of works from before and after.

Symphony No. 3 was written between 1944 and 1946 under a commission from the Boston Symphony Orchestra and their constant champion of new music, conductor Serge Koussevetsky. One of Copland’s most popular works, 1942’s Fanfare for the Common Man, is borrowed from extensively throughout. Small fragments of this melody can be found in each of the movements, which point to its eventual appearance in the closing movement. While the work serves as a summary of his great Americana period, we also hear the shadow of war that is cast across its pages.

I was a freshman in college when I first heard this symphony. As fate would have it, it was just a few months before Copland would pass. I remember being absolutely captivated by the sound of the opening. A soaring melody based on large intervals (think notes that are far apart on a piano keyboard and, therefore, difficult to sing) with simple chords to accompany epitomize Copland’s language. The first movement builds in tempo and volume, featuring explosive sounds from the low voices. This is music that seems unsure whether we should celebrate or be concerned. After a dramatic peak, it recedes to a delicate close that reminds us of where we began. I think this is a perfect introduction to Copland’s music and an interesting exploration of America’s mindset from a challenging moment in history.

The second movement pays tribute to the ambitious scherzo that became popular as the third movement of symphonies in Beethoven’s time. It is also very reminiscent of the composer’s western-influenced ballet scores. The brass get quite the workout in the fanfare-inspired opening and closing sections. Solo woodwinds and strings provide a delicate contrast in the middles section that some authors call a “western waltz.” A famous example of this can be found as the third movement in Copland’s score to Rodeo. Some of the transitions have very difficult rhythms for all of us to manage together.

The third movement starts with a melody that reminds us a bit of the opening movement, but which now sounds quite ominous. The maturity that our young string players must bring to this task is considerable. Eventually the tension is broken by a gorgeous flute line that ushers in a section inspired by dance. It can be difficult to hear, but Copland spends considerable effort creating variations of the flute’s melody that remind me of the famous Shaker variations in Appalachian Spring. Our goal is to make this charming, and as I say often to our orchestra – nothing is more difficult in music than charming.

The third movement ends as it began, and final string chords bring a sense of peace. Without interruption, the last movement begins with a soft and beautiful statement of the famous fanfare melody in the flutes. This gives way to full force brass and percussion statements that have small but consequential changes in the harmonies. From here, the orchestra is put through a series of serious challenges. Scurrying lines in the strings and woodwinds, difficult rhythms, again, inspired by dance, and violent explosions all appear. It is difficult to know whether we are shouting for joy or crying in anguish. I sense the composer expressing the end of a great war as both triumphant and tragic. As we enter the closing stretch, delicate lines appear in the woodwinds and are picked up by the harps and keyboard instruments. This ushers in a glorious ending that is among the loudest in the entire symphonic repertoire. Big, bold, American – the perfect perspective to end our season.

FROSTIANA LYRICS The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

The Pasture

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring; I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may): I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.

I’m going out to fetch the little calf That’s standing by the mother.

It’s so young It totters when she licks it with her tongue.

I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.

Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods, Thrush music—hark!

Now if it was dusk outside, Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird By sleight of wing To better its perch for the night, Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun That had died in the west Still lived for one song more In a thrush’s breast.

Far in the pillared dark Thrush music went— Almost like a call to come in To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars; I would not come in.

I meant not even if asked; And I hadn’t been.

The Telephone

‘When I was just as far as I could walk From here today, There was an hour All still When leaning with my head against a flower I heard you talk.

Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say— You spoke from that flower on the window sill— Do you remember what it was you said?’

‘First tell me what it was you thought you heard.’

‘Having found the flower and driven a bee away, I leaned my head, And holding by the stalk,

I listened and I thought I caught the word— What was it? Did you call me by my name?

Or did you say— Someone said “Come”— I heard it as I bowed.’

‘I may have thought as much, but not aloud.’

‘Well, so I came.’

A Girl’s Garden

A neighbor of mine in the village Likes to tell how one spring When she was a girl on the farm, she did A childlike thing.

One day she asked her father To give her a garden plot To plant and tend and reap herself, And he said, ‘Why not?’

In casting about for a corner He thought of an idle bit Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood, And he said, ‘Just it.’

And he said, ‘That ought to make you An ideal one-girl farm, And give you a chance to put some strength On your slim-jim arm.’

It was not enough of a garden, Her father said, to plough; So she had to work it all by hand, But she don’t mind now.

She wheeled the dung in the wheelbarrow Along a stretch of road; But she always ran away and left Her not-nice load, And hid from anyone passing.

And then she begged the seed.

She says she thinks she planted one Of all things but weed.

A hill each of potatoes, Radishes, lettuce, peas, Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn And even fruit trees.

And yes, she has long mistrusted That a cider apple tree In bearing there today is hers, Or at least may be.

Her crop was a miscellany When all was said and done, A little bit of everything, A great deal of none.

Now when she sees in the village How village things go, Just when it seems to come in right, She says, ‘I know!

‘It’s as when I was a farmer—’ Oh, never by way of advice!

And she never sins by telling the tale To the same person twice.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Choose Something Like a Star

O Star (the fairest one in sight), We grant your loftiness the right To some obscurity of cloud— It will not do to say of night, Since dark is what brings out your light.

Some mystery becomes the proud.

But to be wholly taciturn In your reserve is not allowed.

Say something to us we can learn By heart and when alone repeat.

Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’

But say with what degree of heat.

Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.

Use language we can comprehend.

Tell us what elements you blend.

It gives us strangely little aid, But does tell something in the end.

And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite, Not even stooping from its sphere, It asks a little of us here.

It asks of us a certain height, So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid.

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ABOUT THE ARTISTS Gregory Fuller is a professor of music and the director of Choral Activities at The University of Southern Mississippi.

He conducts the Southern Chorale and the Hattiesburg Choral Union, teaches graduate conducting courses, and supervises candidates in the master’s and doctoral conducting program. Previously, Professor Fuller held conducting appointments at The University of Missouri in Columbia, Missouri, and Briar Cliff University in Sioux City, Iowa.

Fuller has appeared as a conductor or clinician in many locations around the world. His performance record includes numerous refereed performances, including podium appearances at national conferences of American Choral Directors Association (ACDA), Music Educators National Conference (MENC), and the National Collegiate Choral Organization (NCCO). In addition, Fuller has appeared on many concert series performances and festivals in North America, Central America, Scandinavia, the Baltic States, Western Europe, Japan, Korea, and Russia. He has served the Mississippi Chapter of American Choral Directors Association as college and university chair, convention site coordinator, and president.

Dr. Fuller has remained active as a conductor in orchestral and wind settings. That includes numerous oratorios, orchestral works, and a five-year appointment with the professional Sioux City Municipal Band (formally the Monahan Post Band). He has become known as a champion of new extended works, including many U.S. and world premieres over the last three decades.

Important performances include the works of Tõnu Kõrvits, Richard Burchard, and John Cheetham. Other notable performances include engagements on Japanese National Public Television, Estonian Public Radio, and the ordination of Bishop Daniel DiNardo, now Cardinal DiNardo, retired Archbishop of the Galveston-Houston Diocese.

Gregory Wolynec is in his second year as director of Orchestral Activities at The University of Southern Mississippi. He directs the Symphony Orchestra, oversees the graduate program in orchestral conducting, and conducts performances of the Southern Opera and Musical Theatre Company. He is also the founder and music director emeritus of Middle Tennessee’s acclaimed Gateway Chamber Orchestra (GCO), which he directed for 17 years. Wolynec previously served as director of instrumental ensembles at Austin Peay State University (APSU) in Clarksville, Tenn., from 2003-24.

Wolynec has sought to revolutionize the potential of the 21st century orchestra. His unique programming philosophy received national attention with GCO producer Blanton Alspaugh receiving two GRAMMY nominations and a win as Classical Producer of the Year. Ambitious multi-media family concerts have been recognized by the National Endowment for the Arts and the League of American Orchestras. He spearheaded pandemic projects, including the Magical Music & Timeless Tales video series, the YouTube broadcast of the Beethoven @250: Humanity in 2020 concert, and America’s Haydn Festival in May of 2021, featuring performances by GCO, as well as the St. Lawrence String Quartet, pianist Henry Kramer and hosted by Bill McGlaughlin. In 2021, Wolynec also worked with composer Cristina Spinei to successfully launch the first NFT of a musical work commissioned by an American orchestra. This was profiled on NPR’s Marketplace Money. He also oversaw a multi-year project in collaboration with Nashville Ballet to create a new Nutcracker employing the music of Tchaikovsky, Duke Ellington and Vinico Meza. In 2025, Wolynec oversaw the groundbreaking release of recordings of Osvaldo Golijov’s massive La Pasión según San Marcos in audio, video and virtual reality formats.

Wolynec holds a BM in music education and clarinet performance from SUNY Potsdam’s Crane School of Music, as well as the MM and DMA in instrumental conducting from Michigan State University. He was a recipient of a Fulbright Grant to Prague, Czech Republic, where he studied conducting at the Prague Conservatory. There he also worked with the Karlovy Vary Symphony.