The program notes for the Lubbock Symphony Orchestra’s May 23, 2026, concert marking America’s 250th birthday are below. Tickets can be purchased here.
American Salute
Composed in 1942 at the height of World War II, American Salute by Morton Gould stands as one of the most exuberant and enduring expressions of American musical patriotism. The work is based on the well-known Civil War tune ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home’. Gould transforms this familiar song into a brilliant orchestral showpiece, combining symphonic craft with popular appeal.
Originally written for orchestra and later adapted for band, American Salute reflects Gould’s unique ability to bridge classical and vernacular traditions. The piece opens with a bold, attention-grabbing statement, quickly establishing a festive and energetic atmosphere. As the music unfolds, Gould subjects the tune to a series of imaginative variations.
Rhythmic vitality is a hallmark of the work. Syncopations, shifting accents, and crisp percussion writing infuse the music with a distinctly American character, evoking jazz and popular idioms of the early 20th century. Gould’s orchestration is deft and sophisticated, allowing different instrumental sections to shine in turn. Brass fanfares, woodwind flourishes, and sweeping string passages all contribute to the work’s vibrant character.
Despite its celebratory surface, American Salute also carries a deeper resonance. Written during a time of global conflict, it can be heard as both a morale-boosting tribute and a reaffirmation of national spirit. The familiar tune, reimagined through Gould’s inventive lens, becomes a symbol of continuity and resilience.
Today, American Salute remains a concert favorite, admired for its brilliance, accessibility, and unmistakable sense of occasion. It captures, in just a few minutes, a vivid portrait of American musical optimism and ingenuity.
Variations on America
Charles Ives’s Variations on America is a quintessential slice of Americana – irreverent, virtuosic, and deeply prophetic. Composed in 1891 when Ives was just 17 years old, the work was originally written for a 4th of July celebration in Brewster, New York. It serves as a vivid window into the mind of a young composer who was already stretching the boundaries of traditional harmony while remaining firmly rooted in the core of American life.
The piece is based on the tune of ‘My Country, ‘Tis of Thee’ (set to the melody of ‘God Save the King’). At its surface, it is a traditional set of variations, showcasing the technical brilliance of the organ – Ives’s primary instrument. Each variation explores a different stylistic texture; some are charmingly Victorian, others display a Mendelssohnian lightness, and some lean into the bombastic show-stopper style typical of late 19th-century organ recitals.
However, it is the two Interludes that reveal the true Ives. In these brief moments, Ives introduced bitonality – playing in two different keys simultaneously – decades before it became a staple of European modernism. Legend has it that his father, George Ives, encouraged these experiments but suggested the young Charles not play them at the official concert, as they might prove too dissonant for the local congregation.
In 1962, William Schuman’s orchestration brought the work to a wider symphonic audience, translating the organ’s registrations into vivid brass fanfares and swirling woodwind lines. Whether heard in its original organ form or Schuman’s brassy arrangement, the Variations remain a brilliant paradox: a respectful tribute to a national anthem and a mischievous subversion of musical expectations. It is a work of youthful exuberance that captures the spirit of an emerging American voice – one that is at once traditional, experimental, and unswervingly bold.
The other parts of Ives’ life are as unique as his music. At Yale, he studied composition with the noted pedagogue Horatio Parker. He was also an outstanding athlete. He and his friend Julian Myrick formed their own insurance agency, Ives & Co (which later became Ives & Myrick), where he remained until he retired. During his career as an insurance executive and actuary, Ives devised creative ways to structure life-insurance packages for people of means, which laid the foundation of modern estate planning.
At the same time he was working as an insurance agent, he composed four numbered symphonies, several works with the word ‘Symphony’ in their titles, as well as The Unanswered Question (1908), written for the unusual combination of trumpet, four flutes, and string quartet. The Unanswered Question was influenced by the New England writers Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. His Symphony #3 won the Pulitzer Prize for music in 1946. He gave the money away saying, “Prizes are for boys, and I’m all grown up.”
Leonard Bernstein championed Ives’ music. He conducted the New York Philharmonic in the world premiere of Ives’s Symphony No. 2 in a broadcast concert in 1951. Ives is one of the most creative and innovative composers in American musical history.,
The Entertainer
When Scott Joplin published The Entertainer in 1902, he subtitled it ‘A Rag Time Two Step’, envisioning it as the height of American classical elegance. However, by the mid-20th century, the nuanced classic ragtime Joplin championed had largely faded into the kitsch of “honky-tonk” saloons. The sophisticated architecture of the piece – its syncopated stop-time patterns and melodic grace – was often buried under out-of-tune upright pianos played at frantic tempos.
The revival of Joplin’s true intent began in earnest with Gunther Schuller, a polymath composer, conductor, and jazz historian. In the early 1970s, Schuller discovered a collection of period arrangements known as the Red Back Book. These were the original orchestrations used by itinerant ragtime orchestras at the turn of the century. Schuller’s realization of The Entertainer for his New England Ragtime Ensemble stripped away decades of stylistic exaggeration, returning the work to its intended chamber-music proportions.
In Schuller’s arrangement, the piano no longer carries the burden alone. Instead, the melody is passed with conversational wit between the flute, clarinet, and cornet, underpinned by the steady oom-pah of the tuba and the crisp rhythmic punctuation of the snare drum. Schuller insisted on Joplin’s own directive: “It is never right to play Ragtime fast.” By adhering to a relaxed, strutting tempo, Schuller allowed the listener to appreciate the harmonic sophistication and the wistful, almost melancholic undercurrents of the “C” section. In ragtime music, the “C” section (often called the Trio) is a formal structural element that provides a distinct shift in mood, key, and texture. While the first two sections of The Entertainer are bright and percussive, the “C” section acts as a melodic heart to the piece.
This specific arrangement became a cultural phenomenon when it was featured in the 1973 film The Sting. Beyond its cinematic fame, however, Schuller’s work serves as a vital bridge between the conservatory and the jazz club. It reminds us that Joplin was not merely a songwriter, but a meticulous architect of sound, who remains a cornerstone of the American musical identity.
An American in Paris
George Gershwin was born in 1898 in Brooklyn to Jewish immigrant parents from the Russian Empire. He grew up in Manhattan, where he spent most of his life. His birth certificate identified him as Jacob Gershwine. His family name had transitioned from Gershovitz to Gershwine after his older brother Ira was born. Yiddish was his first language. He soon became known as George. He changed the spelling of his name to “Gershwin” around the time he became a professional musician. Ira followed his example and became one of the best lyricists of the 20th century.
George’s first interest in music occurred when he was 10 years old. His family bought a piano, and he started to play it. He studied with various piano teachers for about two years (circa 1911) before finally being introduced to Charles Hambitzer, the pianist in the Beethoven Symphony Orchestra. Until he died in 1918, Hambitzer remained Gershwin’s musical mentor, taught him conventional piano technique, introduced him to music of the European classical tradition, and encouraged him to attend orchestral concerts.
In 1913, Gershwin left school at the age of 15 to work as a song plugger on New York City’s Tin Pan Alley. He soon began writing songs, some of which appeared on Broadway. His first big success was Swanee, with words by Irving Caesar. Al Jolson heard it and added it to one of his shows.
In 1924, Gershwin composed his first major work, Rhapsody in Blue, for orchestra and piano. It was orchestrated by Ferde Grofé and premiered by Paul Whiteman’s Concert Band in New York. It subsequently became his most popular work and established Gershwin’s signature style of blending vastly different musical styles, including jazz and classical music, in unique ways. In the same year, he began to collaborate with his brother Ira on a musical comedy, Lady Be Good. The show included such future standards as ‘Fascinating Rhythm’ and ‘Oh, Lady Be Good!’ From this year forward Gershwin was a world famous composer.
Eager to expand the scope of his work, he went to Paris in 1926, where he asked to study composition with Nadia Boulanger, who, along with several other prospective tutors such as Maurice Ravel, turned him down, afraid that rigorous classical study would ruin his jazz-influenced style. When Ravel heard how much money Gershwin earned in a year, he said he should study with Gershwin rather than the other way around.
During this visit, he began to sketch his An American in Paris. He returned to Paris in early 1928 to continue composing the piece. The work was largely inspired by his experiences in the city and was premiered in December 1928, at Carnegie Hall, conducted by Walter Damrosch.
“My purpose here is to portray the impressions of an American visitor in Paris as he strolls about the city, listens to the various street noises, and absorbs the French atmosphere.” – George Gershwin
This was the first piece that Gershwin orchestrated himself. Perhaps the most famous technical aspect of the score is Gershwin’s use of real taxi horns. During his second stay in Paris, Gershwin scoured automotive shops to find horns with just the right pitches – specifically tuned to A, B, C, and D. He brought them back to New York for the premiere, ensuring that the din of the city was not merely a musical approximation, but a literal slice of Parisian life. These horns punctuate the opening section, creating a playful, chaotic energy that mirrors the bustling traffic of the 1920s.
The second section represents a sudden wave of le mal du pays – homesickness. The solo trumpet wails a quintessential American blues, reminding the listener that no matter how beautiful the Seine may be, the protagonist is still a stranger. It is a moment of profound vulnerability, bridged by a violin solo that suggests a romantic encounter or perhaps a fleeting conversation with a fellow traveler.
The finale of the work is a brilliant technical feat. Gershwin doesn’t leave his traveler in a state of melancholy; instead, the blues theme is transformed. It is sped up, infused with the syncopation of the Charleston, and married to the bustling energy of the opening walking themes.
The structure of the work is a large-scale A-B-A form, but it functions more like a cinematic montage. Gershwin utilizes the full palette of the orchestra, from the lush strings to the exuberant woodwinds, to illustrate a final, vibrant celebration of the city. The American has found his footing. He has embraced the Gallic spirit without losing his American identity.
Gershwin’s premature death at 38 from a malignant brain tumor was a blow to American music from which it has yet to recover. Irving Berlin, another American musical great who, like Gershwin’s parents, emigrated from Russia to America, summed up Gershwin’s career: “George is a composer, the rest of us are songwriters.” Gershwin should have been the American Verdi had not fate decided otherwise.
Copland’s Variations and Hoe-Down
Aaron Copland’s music has long been synonymous with an idealized American sound. Two of his most performed works, Variations on a Shaker Melody and the exuberant Hoe-Down from Rodeo, reveal opposite sides of his style: one contemplative and lyrical, the other rhythmic and electrifying.
The Variations on a Shaker Melody is drawn from Copland’s ballet Appalachian Spring (1944), composed for choreographer Martha Graham. Copland uses the Shaker hymn ‘Simple Gifts’ in Section 7 of the Appalachian Spring Suite, which he made from the ballet. The section follows a theme-and-variation structure that builds from a single solo to a powerful, full-orchestral climax. Even as the orchestration broadens and the music swells, there remains a sense of openness, as though the vast American landscape were being translated into sound.
If Appalachian Spring represents Copland at his most serene, Rodeo (1942) captures his flair for energy, humor, and rhythmic vitality. Commissioned for the choreographer Agnes de Mille, the ballet depicts scenes of ranch life in the American West. Its final section, the ‘Hoe-Down’, has become one of Copland’s most recognizable pieces, often performed independently in the concert hall.
The ‘Hoe-Down’ is built on traditional American fiddle tunes, most notably ‘Bonaparte’s Retreat’. Copland transforms these folk materials into a dazzling orchestral showpiece, marked by driving rhythms, sharp accents, and brilliant instrumental color. Syncopations snap with percussive force, while the orchestra alternates between lean, transparent textures and full-bodied climaxes. The music’s infectious momentum evokes the energy of a frontier dance, complete with stomping feet and exuberant celebration.
Together, these works demonstrate Copland’s unique ability to elevate vernacular materials into art of great sophistication. Whether in the quiet unfolding of a Shaker hymn or the raucous excitement of a Western dance, his music speaks with a distinctly American voice, direct, expressive, and unmistakably his own.
Tchaikovsky 1812 Overture
The 1812 Overture (full title: The Year 1812, Solemn Overture, Op. 49) was composed in 1880 by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. He was commissioned to write a grand piece for the All-Russian Arts and Industry Exhibition. The work was intended to serve three purposes: The completion of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour (built to commemorate Russia’s victory over Napoleon), the silver jubilee of Tsar Alexander II, and the opening of the exhibition itself.
Tchaikovsky’s friend and mentor, Nikolai Rubinstein, suggested he write something “on a grand scale.” Tchaikovsky obliged, though he complained in letters that he was “not a conductor of festivals” and felt the task lacked “warmth and love.”
Tchaikovsky conceived the piece as a programmatic spectacle, not a symphonic poem. He wove into it the Russian hymn God Save the Tsar, French references like La Marseillaise, Orthodox liturgical chants, and cannon fire and bells for the climactic effect.
The overture is programmatic; it tells a specific story through sound – specifically, the 1812 French invasion of Russia and the subsequent retreat of Napoleon’s Grande Armée. Tchaikovsky uses specific musical motifs to represent the opposing forces.
The Russian People are represented as the piece opens with the somber Eastern Orthodox chant God Preserve Thy People, played by four cellos and two violas. This represents the Russian prayer for divine intervention. As the battle begins, Tchaikovsky introduces the French national anthem, La Marseillaise. It sounds aggressive and dominant at its first appearance. Folk melodies represent the Russian spirit, which begins to clash with the French anthem. As the piece nears its end, the music depicts the Battle of Borodino. The La Marseillaise begins to fragment and falter.
Then come the effects that made the piece famous. Tchaikovsky wrote 16 literal cannon shots into the score. A chaotic peal of church bells symbolizes the liberation of Moscow. The piece concludes with a thunderous rendition of God Save the Tsar!, completely drowning out the French theme.
Tchaikovsky held a remarkably low opinion of the 1812 Overture. In a letter to his patroness, Nadezhda von Meck, he wrote: “The overture will be very loud and noisy, but I wrote it without any feeling of love, and so it will probably be of no artistic merit.” He viewed it as a “hack job” written for a paycheck and a public spectacle rather than a piece of high art like his symphonies or his ballets. He was genuinely surprised (and perhaps a bit annoyed) when it became one of his most successful works.
Giuseppe Verdi (opera’s greatest composer ) decisively declared that the only critic whose opinion counts is the audience. The audience has decided. They love the “hack job”.
Why has music depicting the victory of one European emperor over another become a staple of the 4th of July? American orchestras (notably the Boston Pops Orchestra under Arthur Fiedler) began pairing it with fireworks and cannon blasts. Spectacle and its patriotic tone (even if Russian) cemented the tradition of performing the piece on America’s Independence Day.
The 1812 Overture endures not because of structural brilliance, but because it is immediately intelligible, emotionally direct, and perfectly suited to large-scale public celebration. It is a triumph of spectacle over self-criticism – a piece its composer doubted, but the public never stopped loving.
Armed Forces Salute
Bob Lowden’s Armed Forces Salute is one of the most familiar patriotic medleys in the American band repertoire. Written in 1980 and lasting about 4 minutes, it was conceived as a compact tribute to the nation’s military services. The medley incorporates the official or long-associated songs of the armed services in succession: “The Caisson Song” for the Army, “Semper Paratus” for the Coast Guard, “The Marines’ Hymn” for the Marine Corps, “The U.S. Air Force”(“Wild Blue Yonder”), and “Anchors Aweigh” for the Navy. There are also a few bars of “America”, “When “Johnny Comes Marching Home”, and the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”. They are used to frame the brief piece and as connective tissue.
The Stars and Stripes Forever
Few works in the American orchestral repertoire are as instantly recognizable – or as enduringly beloved – as The Stars and Stripes Forever by John Philip Sousa. Composed in 1896, shortly after Sousa learned of the death of his longtime manager David Blakely, the march is often said to have come to him fully formed during a transatlantic voyage back to the United States.
The Stars and Stripes Forever exemplifies Sousa’s mastery of the march form. It follows the traditional structure: an opening fanfare-like introduction, followed by contrasting strains that balance lyrical grace with rhythmic precision. Yet it is the final section – the famous trio – that elevates the piece to iconic status. Here, the piccolo obbligato soars brilliantly above the ensemble, while the brass introduces a bold countermelody, creating a thrilling interplay of textures that builds to a rousing conclusion.
Sousa once remarked that this march was about the “onward march of destiny.” Since its first performance in Philadelphia in 1897, it has transcended its origins as a patriotic rally cry to become a masterpiece of orchestration. In 1987, it was officially designated by Congress as the National March of the United States. Some have even suggested that it become the National Anthem. More than a century after its creation, The Stars and Stripes Forever continues to stir audiences and characterize the American spirit.
