Program Notes: Opening Weekend of the Symphony – Fate, Goblins, and the Mothership

Taken together, Mothership, The Water Goblin, and Symphony No. 4 show us just how versatile orchestral music can be. Bates offers us a futuristic vision full of energy and connectivity, Dvořák takes us to the mysterious and sometimes terrifying world of folklore, and Tchaikovsky reveals his innermost battles with destiny itself.

Mothership is a celebration of modernity and connection—an exhilarating reminder of what we can accomplish when we come together with creativity and openness. Dvořák’s Water Goblin, by contrast, is haunting, pulling us into a darker, cautionary story about the unknown forces of nature, told with vivid imagery and emotional weight. Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony is intimate and deeply human, an exploration of fate that resonates with anyone who has faced a struggle and found the strength to persevere.

Whether it’s the futuristic optimism of Bates, the eerie beauty of Dvořák, or the emotional depth of Tchaikovsky, tonight’s program is a reminder of the power of music to tell our stories—stories of connection, of nature’s mysteries, and of human resilience. Each piece, in its own way, speaks to something essential about who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going.

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Mason Bates: Mothership

Year of Composition: 2011

Duration: 10 minutes

Mason Bates’ Mothership is a thrilling piece that reimagines what an orchestra can be in the 21st century. Imagine a spacecraft, gleaming with possibility, docking to bring together travelers from all corners of the universe. That’s the kind of energy Bates brings to Mothership. Premiered in 2011 with a burst of enthusiasm from the YouTube Symphony Orchestra, it blends classical orchestral instruments with electronic beats and synthesized sounds, making it both familiar and excitingly new.

Bates’ music captures the thrill of connection—of different people and styles converging. It’s an optimistic nod to our era, where technology isn’t just a tool but a gateway to exploration, collaboration, and creativity. As the rhythmic pulses and shimmering orchestral colors intertwine, we get a glimpse of what happens when tradition and innovation collide—something wondrous, forward-looking, and undeniably human.

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Antonín Dvořák: The Water Goblin, Op. 107

Year of Composition: 1896

Duration: 21 minutes

With The Water Goblin, Antonín Dvořák takes us into the depths of folklore—down into dark waters where eerie things lurk. Written in 1896, this symphonic poem paints a vivid picture of a chilling tale, drawn from Czech poet Karel Jaromír Erben’s collection. The story unfolds like a haunting legend: a young girl is lured into the depths by a sinister water goblin, forced to live in his underwater world—a world that’s full of beauty, mystery, and inevitable tragedy.

Dvořák’s music is so descriptive you can almost see the ripples of the lake and hear the unsettling splashes of the goblin emerging from its depths. The restless motifs of the goblin and the melancholy themes of the young girl bring this dark folktale to life. It’s a piece that reminds us of the stories our ancestors told to explain the unknown forces of nature, stories that still resonate because of their raw, timeless power.

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Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36

Year of Composition: 1877-1888

Duration: 43 minutes

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4 is perhaps one of the most personal and heartfelt symphonies of the Romantic era. Composed during one of the most difficult times in his life, Tchaikovsky called this symphony his “fate” symphony—one that deals with destiny’s power to shape our lives. Written between 1877 and 1878, the piece is dedicated to his patron, Nadezhda von Meck, with whom Tchaikovsky shared his deepest thoughts about the work. In those letters, he described Symphony No. 4 as portraying the struggles we all face when fate seems to have the upper hand.

The dramatic opening fanfare, played by the brass, symbolizes the inevitable force of fate—a theme that reappears throughout the symphony as if to remind us of its ever-present influence. From this ominous beginning, the symphony takes us through a range of emotions: moments of despair and resignation, reflective nostalgia, playful diversions, and ultimately an exuberant attempt to overcome fate. The final movement, infused with the spirit of a lively Russian folk dance, is defiant, triumphant, and full of life, as if to say that despite the difficulties fate may throw at us, joy and resilience can still be found.

Program Notes by Joshua Mazur