~BERNHARD
HILLILA~
GRANT
PARK
CONCERT
(Chicago, July 25,
1999)
Arriving well before sunset, we compose
part
of the 1st movement—listeners proceeding
accelerando toward the band
shell, resolving
poco a poco to folding chairs
in a familiar
arrangement by the Park Department.
The players gather
allegro,
cradling instruments,
finding their chairs. Highlighted
by banks
of spotlights, they run fingers
and lips over
discordant preludes. Stand-lights
shine on scores
of music anchored by clips against
the wind.
We, a mixed audience, sit still for
the heavy bass
and black chords of Still's Symphony
No. 2:
"Song of a New Race," a major work
in G Minor.
Off-stage, a wren sings in a relative
key,
an O'Hare-bound 727 drones overtones.
At the sun's closing
diminuendo
in the West
and the moon's growing crescendo
in the East,
we hear Liszt's
Piano Concerto
not only
with piano but tintinnabulations
of a triangle!
The 8:15 South Shore makes tracks
with whistles.
As a divertimento, a virtuoso
hummingbird hums
an impromptu cadenza with
its wings, hovers
like a bee, and with a beak longer
than its tail,
sips nectar from petunias at the
edge of the stage.
Unprogrammed Harleys rev up on Columbus
Drive.
Cleaners light nearby office buildings
con
fuoco.
Fireflies glow
animato nearby.
The conductor
evokes the sounds of human feelings
from the finale—
Shostakovich's Symphony No. 10.
We brood
and rejoice, rant and celebrate
in counterpoint.
After applauding
fortissimo,
we disperse andante
into the dark. Conducted leggiero
by bright
street lights to the el or to our
cars, orchestral
encores still ring in our inner
ears among the traffic.
© by Bernhard Hillila