Williamson takes the spotlight as a clarinet concerto makes its belated debut

Photo: Todd Rosenberg
The Chicago Symphony Orchestra commissioned Christopher Theofanidis to write a work for his longtime friend Stephen Williamson, which was originally scheduled to be unveiled in November of 2023. That event had to be postponed with Williamson recuperating from quadruple bypass surgery.
Happily, Williamson is healthy and fully recovered, and the orchestra’s popular principal clarinetist gave the premiere of Theofanidis’s Indigo Heaven Thursday night with Gustavo Gimeno conducting.
Indigo Heaven is a clarinet concerto in all but name, laid out in three movements running 27 minutes. The work is inspired by the open Western vistas described in Mark Warren’s novel of the same title. Theofanidis was born in Texas and Williamson in Denver, with a childhood spent in Wyoming. Yet if one was expecting something akin to the wide-prairies style of Aaron Copland—whose Clarinet Concerto Williamson played with the CSO two years ago—think again.
An amiable opening theme for orchestra opens the extended first movement (“Hypnotic, easy”) and the clarinet soon leaps in with a bluesy solo with trills. The ambling music continues in the orchestra and soon a contrast develops between soloist and ensemble as the clarinet becomes increasingly florid and virtuosic against longer lines in the winds and strings. The tempo and bravura writing for the soloist increase and the first movement ends on a keening clarinet note.
The second movement (“Vast, patient”) begins with quiet, impressionistic music in strings, followed by a more angular theme for cellos. The soloist enters with a lyrical line but, again segues into more overtly virtuosic passages. Brief cadenzas end the second movement and begin the finale (“Brilliant”) where the tempo accelerates into the kind of fast, colorful music characteristic of Theofanidis’s style. The solo passages grow ever faster with more fireworks against the ramped-up orchestra until a clarinet phrase abruptly ends the work.
While the ensemble writing is spare and largely lyrical, the clarinet is centered on mostly driven and animated activity, reflected in Williamson’s restless stage presence. Over time this contrast begins to feel not just contrasted but disjointed, with something of a stylistic canyon between the soloist and orchestra, who often seem to be operating in parallel universes.
Ultimately, Indigo Heaven offers music that is agreeable without ever quite being memorable. There is a herky-jerky quality in the score and much of the hyperactive clarinet bravura starts to sound the same after a while. Paradoxically, the clarinet solos often seem too showy for the music.
More problematic for a piece written for Williamson—a personality-plus musician who makes every orchestral solo compelling—the ceaseless busyness doesn’t provide room for him to display his characterful musical persona or individual way with turning a phrase.
Of course, Williamson gave Indigo Heaven his considerable all, playing with rich tone, dazzling virtuosity and faultless technical command even in the score’s most improbable demands. Gimeno directed alertly and the clarinetist’s colleagues gave him full-blooded support. Soloist, conductor and composer were rewarded with generous applause and ovations for their efforts.

The concerto was preceded by Samuel Barber’s Second Essay for Orchestra. Like all three of Barber’s Essays, the Second is a concise gem, managing to pack a lot of incident and closely argued music into 11 minutes.
Sadly, no one would get an idea of this work’s quality by Thursday night’s under-rehearsed performance. From the bland opening wind solos, Gimeno led an impatient, overloud reading that failed to allow space for Barber’s taut elemental drama to slowly build and make a cumulative impact.
There may be a good reason to program two Ravel showpieces, each scored for large forces, back to back— but I can’t imagine what it could be.
Still, the Spanish conductor, making his downtown debut, seemed more in his element with Ravel’s Franco-Iberian music after intermission, at least with the showier sections.
In Rapsodie espagnole, there was little atmosphere or nocturnal languor in the opening “Prélude à la nuit” with dynamics never descending below a hardy mezzo-forte; likewise in the “Habanera” mystery and allure were distinctly missing in action under Gimeno’s metrical direction. The flashier dances went better, with a lively “Malagueña” and closing “Feria”; Gimeno found a subversive irony in the contrasted middle section of the latter and the rambunctious percussion was unleashed as the whirling carnival was thrown off in duly spectacular fashion.
The same applied to the evening’s concluding work, the Suite No. 2 from Ravel’s Daphnis and Chloe ballet. The sense of nature and forest life slowly awakening in the opening Dawn (“Lever du jour”) was largely missing in action in this hurried and unevocative rendering, though Gimeno built the music to a resplendent, shimmering climax. Flute solos were more literal than sensuous in the central Pantomime, while the concluding General Dance rounded off the performance and the evening in a suitably Dionysian frenzy.
The program will be repeated 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday. cso.org
Posted in Performances
Posted Mar 07, 2025 at 2:27 pm by L.
I think you’ve really missed the mark with this review. I agree that the second half of the program was a tad odd, and that the Daphnis was underwhelming, but I think Theofanidis’ premiere was fantastic.
Contrast is the crux of the concerto as form–the contrast between solo and ensemble, small and large, loud and soft, weak and powerful. Theofanidis understands this concept and applies it well throughout Indigo Heaven. All three movements are creatively orchestrated and engaging; the second is especially stunning.
This work may not push the envelope as far as other contemporary commissions, but it is nonetheless a remarkable contribution to the repertoire.
Posted Mar 07, 2025 at 3:25 pm by GCMP
Presumably the two Ravel pieces are to celebrate his 150th anniversary. Of course they could have done other Ravel, but we should be happy with these (and the piece on Jane Glover’s concert earlier).