Nashville, Tennessee: Friday, January 9, 2026: 7:30 p.m.
Schermerhorn Symphony Center
The Nashville Symphony
Gemma New, Conductor
Conrad Tao, Piano
PROGRAM:
- Beethoven’s Egmont Overture
- John Coolidge Adams’ Century Rolls: Piano Concerto in 3 Movements
- Intermission
- Mozart’s “Jupiter” Symphony No. 41 in C Major (K: 551)
When writing these reviews, I’d like to make them as spontaneous as possible. By that, I mean I want them to be entertaining to read, because, you know, reviews can be kind of dry. So I’m writing this Saturday morning following the concert, and it’s early in the morning, so I’m a little rusty and just wondering exactly how I’m going to make this interesting.
First of all, one of the negatives for me about going to the Nashville Symphony—being from Bowling Green—is the drive to Nashville, along with the parking and all that sort of thing. But last night was a different experience because of several factors, the first being that it wasn’t a very popular evening to be in Nashville. I 65 is getting closer and closer to being completed and this helps the drive a lot. I experienced no rowdies on the road, which is very rare. It was absolutely gorgeous, warm weather, it wasn’t crowded at all, and it wasn’t crazy like it usually is. I mean, other than the fact that Broadway is just a couple of blocks away and you can hear the honky-tonks in the distance.
I parked in the Pinnacle parking lot across the street from the Schermerhorn Center, and that was easy to do using ParkWhiz. When you get there early, as I did, it’s pretty easy to find a parking place at that time of day in Nashville. I arrived around 5:30. The gate system at that parking lot isn’t very efficient, and it took a long time for cars to exit after the concert, but I just waited for a bit, and it was fine. The drive home was super easy with only a couple of drag races along the way.
So I went for a little walk around a couple of blocks, and then I found a place to eat. It’s called Farm Table, I think, and it’s really just around the corner from the Schermerhorn. It was pretty good. I had rigatoni, and it had some garlic in it—or a lot of garlic in it—so I was definitely tasting that and trying to be careful about who I talked to so as not to be offensive.
When I arrived at the Nashville Symphony, there was piano music coming from somewhere. At first, it was difficult to locate, but it turned out to be in one of the beautiful areas on either side of the auditorium. Two students were playing the piano, and the audience gathered around them was very polite and appreciative. As the crowd grew, people started moving around and coming in and out. Toward the end of that part of the evening, it was about twenty minutes past the hour when they finished, so it was time to head to our seats.
Beethoven’s Egmont Overture is about nine minutes long and is, in many ways, a typical Beethoven piece. Beethoven was an architect of music. His writing has a strong structural feel, and his orchestrations can be somewhat blocky, but they are always ingenious. I believe one of the main things Beethoven was always thinking about while composing was: How am I going to move people? How am I going to inspire them?
The Egmont Overture was written as incidental music for the play Egmont by Goethe, and the overture is essentially what remains of that score. I don’t believe much of the other music survives. In that sense, it functions much like a soundtrack—an overture or lead-in for a theatrical production or even a film. The thematic material is handled in a very traditional Beethovenian way, building gradually and becoming increasingly inspiring to listen to. It’s not his most complicated piece, and it’s certainly not one of his most graceful, but it is sturdy, solid, and enjoyable. And, of course, it’s Beethoven—so it’s a great way to start an evening.
The John Adams piece, Century Rolls, is in three movements: 1st Movement, Manny’s Gym, and Hail Bop. Manny’s Gym refers to Emanuel Ax. Interestingly, Ax soloed in a Mozart piano concerto with the Nashville Symphony last year, and in that performance, he played cadenzas composed by Beethoven.
The second movement, Manny’s Gym, is slower and extremely beautiful, filled with rich, colorful textures. It’s very contemplative. The first and third movements, like most concertos, are more lively and energetic, with greater rhythmic drive and color. When I first began listening, I wasn’t quite sure what to listen for or how to approach it. To be honest, there aren’t really distinct themes you can latch onto in the traditional sense. Instead, the piece is about flashes of color and sound, about showcasing the pianist, and about exploring the texture of piano and orchestra playing together—sometimes in dialogue, sometimes layered.
The orchestration includes a significant percussion presence: marimba, xylophone, vibraphone, celesta, harp, and the full symphony. That entire corner of the orchestra produced a wide array of sparkling, shimmering sounds, all played extremely well. The woodwinds, in particular, had many short, sharply articulated notes that required precise ensemble playing, and they were absolutely on point.
This is a piece where the best approach is simply to lean back and ask, What does this sound like? rather than trying to analyze or “understand” it in a traditional way. Let the sound wash over you. It’s an interesting work that I would highly recommend. And for music like this, especially, I truly believe in live performance—you need the space of the hall, real instruments, and real people making these sounds in real time to fully understand what it’s meant to be.
Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony is his 41st and final symphony. It is a very mature work, and what you immediately sense is that Mozart didn’t waste much time in composing it. The music is very straightforward, almost schematic in nature.
This is a piece I know, but not one I know particularly well, so I can’t really make detailed judgments about the performance in terms of what might have been missing or emphasized. What I can say is that in that hall, the definition of the different sections of the orchestra, the articulations, and the full score came through with great clarity. You really do hear all of the music being played.
In Mozart symphonies—and in Mozart’s music in general, and probably much of the orchestral literature—when the strings are all playing together in block textures, there can sometimes be an overlay effect where you lose some definition. I occasionally wonder whether there is a way to make that clearer, because that full sound can slightly blur the orchestra. That said, I don’t know enough about it to make a definitive judgment.
The overall effect of the evening, and of the Mozart symphony itself, is simply brilliance—because Mozart is brilliant. There’s a reason his music continues to be performed, and I think part of that reason is that orchestras don’t want to forget how to play Mozart. It’s similar to not wanting to forget how to play Bach. I once had a voice teacher who said that no matter what repertoire you’re singing, you should always sing Mozart and Bach—always keep that music in your voice—because it keeps you in shape.
When you hear a Mozart symphony, you’re not just hearing a work of art. You’re hearing an attitude: a kind of study, a test of skill, and a test of transparency that you might not encounter in other repertoire, simply because Mozart’s writing is so exposed and so clear.
The Conductor and Piano Soloist
(Added on 1/11/2026) I realized I didn’t mention the conductor or the piano soloist in my review so I am adding it here.
What do I look for in a conductor? Someone who serves the music, the players, and the performance. I also look for someone who is clear and unassuming in their demeanor but leads with a quiet confidence. A certain amount of energy is necessary without being frenetic. Most importantly, someone who genuinely loves the music and it shows.
It is difficult to know all of these things from the back row of the auditorium and know nothing about the performers on a personal level. All I have to go by is what I see and hear in the performance. I am not impressed by resumes. But, there is a feeling you get when you attend a performance that are clues to a performer’s disposition.
My take on Gemma New is that she is a person of good taste, a high sense of elegance, and a conductor who is there to help the orchestra play the music and bring out the score so that we can hear all of it. Her conducting is both clear and elegant, her demeanor passionate but not fanatical, and her ability to shape phrases and the ‘arc’ over an entire movement is all present. From where I was sitting, I thought her outfit, because I’m not sure what it was exactly, was the most elegant and tasteful I had ever seen. She seemed to have a good rapport with the musicians and was generous in her appreciation of them and the audience as well. The orchestra played with precision and reacted to her cues. The separation of sounds in the orchestrations was perceptible and appreciated. Probably the most important factor to me personally is that nothing got on my nerves, which often can happen when a conductor is egotistical and has the “follow me” type of attitude. She had none of that. To me, she’s excellent.
The piano soloist Conrad Tao is a youthful and energetic artist. His style is trendy, and his ability is unquestionably at the highest level. His command of the Century Rolls concerto by John Adams was complete. That kind of musicianship and the ability to command his hands to do his bidding is something that has always amazed me in pianists. The music is his, not borrowed, not trying to be correct, but his to interpret. I couldn’t hear what he said before he played his solo encore. I have a guess, but whatever it was was phenomenal. I will try and find out what it was…. At any rate, he is a compelling musician who is someone to remember.
With all of this, I realize that practically everyone who is performing today is a lot younger than I am. What I think of is how generations come and go. How everyone is on the conveyor belt of time. When I was just starting out I thought that the ‘greats’ in music would always be there, that they had control over the entire world of music. What I didn’t take into account is that they were all on the same inevitable path I am on, and that if I just stayed in the game, stayed fit, and waited my turn, then I could be in their place. This is something young people need to remember. Do not compare yourself with anyone because nobody can compare to you. Be the best you can be, and don’t worry about all of the other distractions. How does a girl from New Zealand get to conduct the Nashville Symphony? How does a son of Chinese immigrants, born in Urbana, Illinois, become such an accomplished pianist? There are many factors, but the main factor is that they worked hard and stayed focused. Well done!
Coda
In closing, I would say it was a very successful evening. It was elegant, peaceful, and sane—very much in the spirit of the Age of Reason and the Classical period. It fits perfectly with the building itself, with its Greek Revival architecture and columns. Being there simply makes you feel good. It pulls you out of a world that feels full of chaos right now and offers a welcome break—almost a haven for reason, enlightenment, and good feeling.
The last thing I want to mention is that I paid $20 for admission to this performance, which is honestly ridiculous—in the best possible way. Everything else you do in an evening costs more than the ticket to the concert. Now, not all symphony tickets are that inexpensive, and I sat in the cheap seats, as I usually do. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it to support musicians who work hard to play beautifully. It’s worth it to sit in that hall, to experience the space, and to share it with other people who are, frankly, sane.
For that price, there’s really no excuse.
Have a nice day.
