First Symphonies are many times the most daunting tasks a composer can undertake. Composers are no different than us: they have fears, self-consciousness, and doubts about putting something new into the world.

Beginnings are also very exciting. The uncertainty of untapped possibility can lead to extraordinary things. It is in the context of creation that we explore the idea of the “Three B’s” (traditionally know as Bach, Beethoven, & Brahms).

To open the first official Symphony of the Rockies concert, I wanted to take tradition and create the foundation for another 70 years of symphonic innovation and excellence. Starting with Brittany J. Green who is known for sonic world building and for exploring the construction, displacement, and rupture of systems, In the Beginning tracks the creation of a possibility, its destruction, and what remains.

Devin Patrick Hughes credit his father with sparking his love of classical and orchestral music from an early age.

Rising up in Springfield, Sick., Hughes stated his father, who died at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, traveled to Chicago steadily to “see all the good symphonies.”

“Two of his favourite items had been Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’ and (Bruch’s) ‘Scottish Fantasy,’” Hughes stated.

When Hughes, a Colorado-based orchestral and operatic conductor of Irish and Guatemalan descent, was given the chance to conduct these two symphonic works for his upcoming live performance for the Salina Symphony, “that sealed the deal for me.”

“It’s a very cool, uplifting program to carry to the neighborhood,” he stated. “I consider symphonic music has significance in all of our lives, that an orchestra is the guts and soul of a neighborhood. I really feel that music binds us all collectively.”

Hughes is extremely regarded for his music rating interpretations, advocacy for music accessibility, ardor for music of all genres and entrepreneurial vigor. He at the moment serves as music director and conductor of the Boulder Symphony and Arapahoe Philharmonic, each situated within the Denver metro space.

Arapahoe Philharmonics composer in residence Edgar Girtain sits down with conductor Devin Patrick Hughes:

One of the things I notice, you’re kind of like a romantic composer out of place and out of time, living in the year 2021. Because there’s Mahler and Wagner in a lot of your music, there’s also some Brahmsian qualities.

I remember once you made a comment to me that it seemed like I was still finding my voice. And I think that that’s continued, that path. Like, I really don’t think much about if I’m romantic or tried to place myself in any kind of way. If I write music that sounds out of place, it’s because in a lot of ways my life is not so different from those historical composers. I work in a church. I’m like a little kapellmeister down here, you know? That’s my job. And what is the music that we play? Every week I play a Brahms Sonata or songs, and it’s mostly that kind of music. And I love that music so it comes through when I write. But I would say more than romantic, I’d say that I have a polyglot language because really I listen to all kinds of music. I love contemporary music as well. I take what I can and it’s just tools that go into the tool bag and as I go, I just take them out as I need them.

Conductor: Devin Patrick Hughes

• Music: Ginastera: Four Dances from “Estancia;” Kodály: Dances of Galánta; Harbach: Lilia Polka; Beethoven: Symphony No. 7

It’s great to be able of course to do an orchestral premiere, a world premiere, with string orchestra but when you get to merge different genres like this and create something out of some classic pop or rock tunes, I think that’s really exciting, not only for the orchestra and performers but for the audience. It brings new audiences with different interests into the concert venues.

Essentially a conductor is using every tool at his or her disposal, whether it be physical or emotional, to communicate the music not only with the musicians but ultimately the audience. I think music is the most amazing thing that God ever created. It’s the thing that binds all of us. We can communicate with each other, we can laugh, we can cry, we can experience a great drama as one.

I think some people would just assume if you’ve got a creative individual, a composer, a writer, that the wonderful thing about these people is that they can create, they can produce something out of nothing. I would argue, most of us folks who consider ourselves creative, are sculpting down from something that already exists virtually in our imagination. And I mentioned that now because in a sense that took that to a logical extreme. You cut away all these things. It's all about what you don't want: you cut away, cut away, cut away. And then what you have left is your art.

I believe that the reason great art can be so moving and powerful is that it does illuminate some sort of truth. What that truth is is unique to the person experiencing it. I think we have to separate the artist and their intentions from the art itself. Experiencing art and music is subjective; every listener brings their own set of experiences, memories, and expectations. If a hundred people hear a piece of mine, there’ll be a hundred different interpretations of it, all of which are valid. Even when a composer tries to prescribe meaning to a work through a title or program note, the piece still ultimately belongs to the listener. Sometimes communities will latch onto a piece and it does become a vehicle for change in society, but that’s completely outside the composer’s control.

Einstein said "All great achievements of science start from intuitive knowledge.” He also said "After a certain high level of technical skill is achieved, science and art tend to coalesce in esthetics, plasticity, and form. The greatest scientists are always artists as well.”

I think we could turn that sentence around and say that "The greatest artists are always scientists as well.” 

I would like my music to communicate an integrated approach between spontaneity and formalism, subjectivity and objectivity, heart and brain, art and science. In fact, I think music is moving toward (or back to) a place of balance between these necessary opposites.