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On a sunny May afternoon at DiMenna Center for Classical Music, the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony, led by Maestro David Bernard, offered more than a typical concert. Spellbinding Strauss, the latest in the Immersions and Explorations series, blended knowledge and pleasure. Bernard’s warm, witty welcome assured listeners that they already knew all they needed to enjoy the afternoon. Instead of a silent, formal group, the audience radiated subtle excitement, more like friends eager for a long-awaited dinner.

Concertmaster Alfheidur Saemundsson (2nd from Left) with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

An Immersive Apotheosis: The InsideOut Concert Experience

Furthermore, the patented InsideOut Concert model—Bernard's unique approach—placed the audience among the musicians. A visiting violinist and singer enjoyed her seat among the strings next to me. This intimacy erases the usual distance between audience and orchestra. Instead, the orchestra surrounds and envelops you. For admirers of Hofmannsthal's poetic inwardness, or Schopenhauer, who saw music as expressing inner reality, the InsideOut format lets you experience being inside the music, not just watching.

A view of the French Horn section with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

Don Juan: Strauss in his Halcyon Youth

Notably, Bernard prefaced each work with eloquent commentary, illuminating Richard Strauss' musical evolution—his apprenticeship with his father, the influential hornist Franz Strauss; his challenges managing the Third Reich; and his shift from classicist restraint to Romantic expressiveness. To clarify, Bernard drew an apt analogy to the visual arts, contrasting the restraint of classicism with Wagner's Romantic imagination—a comparison both illuminating and natural.

A view of the Harp with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

When the orchestra began Don Juan, the room shimmered with its showmanship. Strauss, still in his mid-twenties, showed boldness and remarkable command of inventiveness, chromaticism, and orchestration.

The piece's opening leap conveys Don Juan's swagger and unfolds in a richly chromatic language that still bears traces of Wagner, particularly the world of Tristan und Isolde, and reveals Strauss's deep absorption of Wagnerian style. At times, the love themes bloom into passages of surprising tenderness.

Vulnerable Melody with Rich Color and Calm Control

Notably, Don Juan highlights nearly every principal voice with uncommon individuality. The principal oboe, given one of the score's most exposed and cherished solos—often associated with one of Don Juan's great lyrical encounters—shaped its long, vulnerable melody with rich color and poised control. The concertmaster delivered the work's singing lines with luminous tone, expressive portamenti, and finely sculpted phrasing. The principal flute played Strauss's rapid figurations with exhilarating brilliance, while the principal clarinet added lines of soulful warmth. The trumpets cut through with gleaming vigor. The harps sent their glissandi flashing through the hall like sparks from flint.

A view of the Trombones with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy Moments of Nostalgic Reflection

Above all—and here the emotional center of the score seemed to reside—the French horn section, and its principal especially, proclaimed Don Juan's heroic theme with leonine power. The horn occupies a uniquely personal place in Strauss's musical imagination. His father, Franz Strauss, was among the great horn virtuosos of nineteenth-century Germany and the most formative musical influence on the composer's youth. Throughout Strauss' output, the instrument repeatedly emerges with unusual prominence and affection: far-off calls, heroic fanfares, and moments of nostalgic reflection seem to carry a distinctive emotional affect. The principal horn of this concert met that legacy with majestic utterance, the section behind answering in burnished harmony; one felt the composer's inheritance made momentarily audible.

A view of the Bass Clarinet, Clarinets and Bassoons with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

To be sure, the strings, brass, woodwinds, and percussion together produced the richly blended orchestral sound for which PACS is justly admired. Bravura, it would seem, is simply in their bones.

Richard Strauss (1904). Photograph of Strauss taken in New York during his US tour that year. Public Domain

Death and Transfiguration: A Soul in Sublimation

Tod und Verklärung followed—a profound work about mortality, composed before Strauss turned thirty. Bernard led the orchestra with attention to detail, drawing heavy, foreboding phrases from the musicians. The timpani began with a hesitant beat, often heard as the artist’s failing heartbeat, while woodwinds appeared like memories. The clarinet and bassoon then added their own deep, lyrical lines.

Poignant Human Need

Most strikingly, the violin rose in long arches of yearning, giving voice to the artist's striving soul. The harps, with ascending arpeggios, scattered radiance through the hall. This was music of heightened subjectivity and luminous tone—a performance to remember. At transfiguration, the harps delivered the music's dazzling brilliance. Their ascendant arpeggios scattered luminous notes like points of light.

The audience among the Strings with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy Atmospheric Blend with Psychological Depth

Furthermore, the French horn section conveyed meaning beyond the notes. With solemn clarity, the horns played the transfiguration theme—the rising phrase Strauss later quoted in Im Abendrot—honoring Franz's lasting influence on his son's love for the instrument. Trumpets and trombones finished the C-major climax with depth, confidence, brilliance, and power. Divided strings—shimmering violins, warm violas, breathing cellos, grounding double basses—created an atmospheric blend with psychological depth. Above all, the music was a portrait of the soul ascending toward its own apotheosis.

The Four Last Songs: Sara Beth Pearson's Luminous Denouement

Finally — and, to this listener, most movingly — soprano Sara Beth Pearson took her place in front of the orchestra for Vier letzte Lieder, Strauss's swan song. Composed in his eighty-fourth year, this final cycle can be compared to the late self-portraits of visual artists such as Picasso, Rembrandt, and Andy Warhol—a farewell reflection on a life's journey. Three songs use text from Hermann Hesse: Frühling (Spring), September, and Beim Schlafengehen (Going to Sleep), while the fourth, Im Abendrot (At Sunset), is set to verse by Joseph von Eichendorff.

Sara Beth Pearson, Soprano, singing Richard Strauss's Four Last Songs with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Edward Kliszus The Composer's Tender Farewell

Sara Beth Pearson, a spinto soprano with luminous lucidity and emotional immediacy, was mesmerizing. Her line proceeded with seamless legato and the poise of the bel canto tradition. Her precise diction clarified every word. Singing (in German) phrases like "the garden is in mourning," "the magic circle of the night," and—most piercingly—"how tired we are of traveling, is this perhaps death?" she immersed listeners in the autumnal tenderness and valedictory spirit of Strauss's late style. Passion sprang from restraint. With pensive posture and expressive countenance, she deepened the music's quiet sorrow, drawing listeners to the composer's tender farewell. Bernard led an accompaniment of unusual sensitivity. The orchestra sometimes hushed to a tone; at others, it rose to match Pearson's intensity. Almost unbearably beautiful, Pearson’s performance transcended interpretation and became an experience.

Soprano Sara Beth Pearson with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy The Dying Breath of Summer as a Single Leaf Drifts to Earth

Each of the four songs might be characterized as a diminutive concerto for its featured orchestral voices. As expected, the PACS principals rose to every demand. In Frühling (Spring), the principal flute traced filaments of birdsong over awakening strings. The principal clarinet added dappled chromatic warmth to Strauss's spring landscape — a charming nature painting in miniature. In September came perhaps the most affecting moment of the entire afternoon: the valedictory French horn passage that closes the song, seeming to exhale summer’s final breath as autumn quietly gathers. The French horn, an instrument that remained deeply personal to Strauss throughout his life, perhaps carrying echoes of his father, Franz Strauss, among the nineteenth century’s great horn virtuosi—spoke with haunting tenderness. One could almost feel the room hold its own breath.

David Bernard, Conductor of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Massapequa Philharmonic Orchestra. Courtesy PACS

Then came Beim Schlafengehen (Going to Sleep), which includes one of the most beloved violin solos in orchestral literature. Between the second and third stanzas, the concertmaster emerges in an extended cantilena of tenderness, suggesting the soul’s gradual release from its earthly burden. The PACS concertmaster delivered this passage with eloquence, finish, and virtuosity. The tone was radiant with lines shaped with great sonority and delicate shadings as the music demanded. One absorbed the wondrous portamenti and sonic shaping, projected to the remotest corners of the room.

A view of the Flutes, Oboes, and English Horn with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presenting Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

Finally, Im Abendrot (At Sunset) closes the cycle in twilit grandeur: the horn section again carrying the great chordal tread, the flutes and piccolo seeming to rise and disappear into the gloaming, while Strauss introduces a moving recollection of the transfiguration theme from Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration), composed nearly six decades earlier. The cycle thus closes in an act of self-encirclement and grace, with every section of the orchestra—strings shimmering, woodwinds glowing, brass radiant, percussion whispering, harps gilding—making the moment one of those rare apotheoses that linger in memory long after the final chord has faded.

Maestro Bernard at the Podium: Eloquence and Precision

To be sure, Bernard's conducting was, as always, expressive, precise, and artistically impeccable. His cues — subtle agogic accents here, an unmistakable sforzando there — were communicated with such plasticity that the musicians responded musically in kind, breathing as one. His commentary, moreover, illuminated rather than intruded; he is a peripatetic guide of the highest order, a cicerone for music lovers and aficionados alike. Above all, what struck this listener was the evident love between podium and ensemble, a relationship of mutual artistic trust forged over decades of shared music-making.

Soprano Sara Beth Pearson performs Strauss's Four Last Songs with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Adam Bundy

PACS and Its Legacy of Excellence

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony, founded in 1999, has long earned its place among New York's most beloved cultural institutions. A three-time First Prize winner of The American Prize Competition in Orchestral Performance, the ensemble has been acclaimed by The New York Times, Gramophone, and WQXR, with critics likening its sound to that of the great old-school European orchestras. In partnership with InsideOut Concerts, Inc., PACS continues to build authentic new audiences for classical music through its uniquely intimate format. Saturday's musicians — across the strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion — performed with the depth, fervor, and inimitable sonority that have become the orchestra's signature. This was an evening of solid musicianship and artistry, an InsideOut triumph from first downbeat to final, lingering exhalation.

Sara Beth Pearson, Soprano, standing for extended applause with David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Photo by Edward Kliszus

David Bernard and The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony present Spellbinding Strauss at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC. Courtesy chambersympony.com

Spellbinding Strauss: David Bernard and the PACS

David Bernard, Conductor Sara Beth Pearson, Soprano

THE PROGRAM

Don Juan, Op. 20 (1889)

Death and Transfiguration, Op. 24 (Tod und Verklärung, Op. 24 (1890)

Four Last Songs  (VBier letzte Lieder)(1948)

     Spring (Frühling)      September      Going to Sleep (Beim Schlafengehen)      At Sunset (Im Abendrot)

When the European Classical Music Awards announced that Maestro David Bernard had been named Conductor of the Year and Platinum Prize Winner at its Annual Grand Prix 2025, the news reverberated well beyond the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music and the Massapequa Philharmonic at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts. It was, in the parlance of the concert world, a recognition long overdue — and for the musicians who have played under Bernard's baton season after season, it was nothing short of a confirmation of what they have known for years. Bernard is not merely a conductor. He is a teacher, a collaborator, a keeper of the score's innermost secrets, and — in the word one musician reaches for with unambiguous conviction — an artist of uncommon dedication.

This article draws on two sources of testimony: personal interviews with musicians of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and a series of questions posed directly to Bernard himself, whose answers illuminate the philosophy and craft that underlie every downbeat. Together, these voices compose a portrait as complete as any profile of a conductor can be — one shaped equally from the podium and from the chairs that face it.

Before the First Downbeat: The Annotated Score

The first thing to understand about David Bernard's rehearsal process is that it does not begin at the first rehearsal. Weeks before the orchestra assembles, Bernard sends every musician a marked-up score — a detailed annotated blueprint of his interpretive intentions, complete with tempo indications, articulation adjustments, dynamic clarifications, and sometimes even changes to note values.

Asked what he communicates before raising the baton at that first rehearsal, Bernard explained:

"When I internalize works, I develop a clear view of how I'd like the work to 'go' — its nuances, phrasing, pacing, and rhetoric/syntax that is woven through its layers, much of which goes beyond what is actually written in the score. The very first part of the preparation occurs when I share this with the musicians through an annotated score, way before the first rehearsal. At the first rehearsal, we can begin with a common baseline beyond what it would be with "clean parts."" — David Bernard

David Bernard, selected as Conductor of the Year and Platinum Prize Winner, European Classical Music Awards — Annual Grand Prix 2025. Courtesy PACS

Asked specifically what goes into those markings, he elaborated with characteristic precision:

"Changes and clarifications to articulations, dynamics, note values, and sometimes even changes to notes. A phrase may need to end lifted, requiring a quarter note to be changed to an eighth with an eighth rest. Certain figures or lines may need to be played stronger or softer than marked to bring out a certain layering between the parts. Notating these decisions in ways that are clearest to the musicians helps achieve a specific way of playing a passage. It not only saves rehearsal time — it allows us to focus on deeper aspects of the music making." — David Bernard

The musicians attest to how dramatically this shapes the rehearsal cycle from its opening moments. Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo with PACS since the 2023–2024 season, describes the downstream effect:

"This gives us the ability to get into the musical nuances of a piece much more quickly than we would otherwise, because we're already in sync with what he wants. So the music begins to come together as something beyond the notes on the page from almost the first rehearsal." — Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo

John Yakubik, the orchestra’s Principal Cellist for more than twenty years, confirms that this blueprint shapes the ensemble’s preparation from the first stand: "David circulates an annotated score prior to the start of a cycle. He has the principal strings mark up their parts accordingly, so everyone works from his blueprint."

Davis Erin Anderson, French horn with PACS since spring 2023, underscores the practical consequence of this advance work:

“Before a cycle begins, the orchestra receives a marked score with indications for articulations, note length, directionality of a phrase. These things are added to each player’s part, hopefully in advance of the first rehearsal, so that we are not starting from fifty-plus different approaches.”

Gabrielle Miskovitz, a violinist and PACS member since 2005 who has served as both Concertmaster and Principal Second over the years, speaks to the deeper interpretive purpose this serves:

“David has a commitment to his interpretation and understanding of the music, which, without question, has allowed for the unique success of PACS over the decades. He is meticulously detailed with notations during score preparation, which allows us as musicians to understand his musical goals prior to the first rehearsal.” — Gabrielle Miskovitz, Violin 

Gabrielle Miskovitz, Violin. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy Gabrielle Miskovitz Going Deep: The Rehearsal Cycle

One of the first things a new member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony learns about David Bernard is that his strategy within each rehearsal— distinctive, deliberate, and by all accounts enormously effective — goes deep and often starts at the end of a movement and works backward through the score. Bernard frames the logic as a matter of depth over breadth:

"Given the choice between spending the whole rehearsal going deep on one movement of a symphony as opposed to covering all movements — especially during early rehearsals — I will always opt for going deep. When you go deep, the orchestra retains the experience in high resolution and brings it to the next rehearsal. Going deep involves addressing the music-making and execution with care, not in a taskmaster way, but in a "you can do this, no, that wasn't quite it, let's focus this way.” In this approach, achievement follows achievement, building commitment and enthusiasm in the orchestra." — David Bernard

Patrick Sanguineti, in his second season as a PACS trumpeter, offers a vivid metaphor for what this achieves:

"David's approach to a rehearsal cycle evokes learning to read a complex text in a non-native language. He targets fluency and pattern recognition. The process can frustrate at times, but the payoff is a delayed gratification: suddenly, as the cycle nears its end, the granular work David put into those passages reveals a wider grammar and vocabulary that the orchestra now has to put the whole work together — and in a way that feels natural and intuitive." — Patrick Sanguineti, trumpet

Patrick Sanguineti, Trumpet. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy PACS

Alexander Schulmeister, a violinist who has been with PACS almost since its founding — his first concert was the orchestra's second, in early 2001 — identifies the cumulative architecture that Bernard builds:

"David drills into the music starting with the very first rehearsal, stressing ensemble, balance, articulation, and phrasing. David usually starts rehearsing at the end of a movement, working backwards to the beginning. Full movement run-throughs are done towards the end of the cycle; it is at that time that I feel the pieces coming together and becoming music rather than individual sections and passages." — Alexander Schulmeister, violin

Madeleine Carroll, violist with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Massapequa Philharmonic Orchestra, found the method transformative from her first encounter with it: "It is a brilliant approach that helps us as musicians better understand the inner workings of the movement and recognize key patterns. I can then apply what he has instructed us to do to the rest of the movement. I learn a lot faster this way."

Madeleine Carroll, Viola. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and the Massapequa Philharmonic Orchestra. Courtesy Madeleine Carroll

Davis Erin Anderson, French horn with PACS since spring 2023, offers a complementary image of the process: “A typical rehearsal under the baton of Maestro Bernard typically involves a deep dive into a certain section of music — a playthrough followed by hearing from individual sections or groups of sections. It’s sort of like taking a puzzle apart and putting it back together, with added clarity for just how things fit together.” The payoff, Anderson adds, is evident in the final product: “Maestro Bernard makes really good use of rehearsal time, so that when recording sessions or concerts come along, we’ve all had lots of repetition. Because of that, and because of independent practice and sometimes even sectionals that my fellow horn players and I will take upon ourselves, the final result is really clean.”

The Language of the Podium: Clarity as a Discipline

Every musician interviewed for this article used some variation of the word "clarity" to describe Bernard's communication. But clarity, as Bernard practices it, is not merely a manner of speaking. It is a physical and philosophical commitment — an understanding that the conductor's body and voice must become instruments of pure signal, stripped of noise.

On the subject of his famously understated physical presence on the podium — what I have described as "clear, expressive, compelling, and marvelously understated — no dramatic gesticulations or visual melodrama" — Bernard was direct:

"I am hyper-fixated on giving the musicians what they need to achieve, and in conducting, that requires clarity. It is absolutely a "less is more" kind of thing — to have clarity, you must eliminate "noise." I am the "coach" — not a player, so my signals need to be unquestionably useful and usable for the musicians. To do this, you must quiet your body to the point where your motions become more meaningful and important to the players. When you lead this way, you are drawing the musicians to you — in essence drawing out the best performance in the most expressive and demonstrative way." — David Bernard

The musicians recognize and respond to this economy with precision of their own. Brillson describes what it is like to be on the receiving end:

"Maestro Bernard is probably the clearest conductor I've ever worked with. He frequently uses a combination of precise musical description — for example, "the 16th following the dotted eighth needs just as much emphasis and volume as the eighth note" — as well as spoken rhythmic demonstration. He is incredibly efficient at communicating what he wants, and there is rarely any confusion as to what he's aiming for. Additionally, if he feels you still haven't understood his intention, he'll speak with you during the break and ask if there's anything he can do to help you achieve it." — Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo

Tay Kwak, a violinist in his fourth season with the Massapequa Philharmonic, identifies something beyond the words themselves: "It is not what Maestro Bernard says. It is how he says it. His communication skills are specific, concise, and they are always reinforced with his conducting, markings on the parts, as well as rehearsal notes afterwards."

William Nealon, the orchestra’s double bassist and a twenty-five-year PACS veteran, notes a particular and unusual technique: "He sings often, and he makes us sing our parts often. He does use a lot of metaphors — for example, he often says the beginning of a note should sound like a bell." Schulmeister echoes this with something approaching wonder: "I have never played for a conductor who had the section sing their parts before."

Anderson catalogues the sheer range of Bernard’s rehearsal techniques with an inventory that suggests a conductor of inexhaustible pedagogical resourcefulness: “Rehearsal techniques range from asking strings to play without their bows so as to dial in pitch and rhythm, singing individual lines so as to communicate rhythm or overall style, asking winds and brass to play a passage note by note so we can hear how our individual pitches fit into a chord, and lots of other ways that are so seamless I’m not even sure I can recall each one.”

John Yakubik, Principal Cellist, adds:

"He is a stickler for rhythm and articulation. He will have the orchestra say it a few times and then have us play it. There’s also a lot of singing to demonstrate the phrasing he would like." What accompanies all of this is an atmosphere of consistent patience. Carroll captures it memorably: "He is a teacher, coach, collaborator, and friend. He approaches his instruction with kindness, encouragement, patience, humor, and a solid commitment to achieving his goals. He has a steady and positive temperament that allows me to make mistakes without being too hard on myself, so I can learn quickly from them and improve."

John Yakubik, Principal Cello, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy John Yakubik

Anderson reaches for a single word that encompasses it all: “I’d say Maestro Bernard is a coach more than anything else. My sense is that he fundamentally believes in the capabilities of each player, otherwise we wouldn’t be there. I think he sees his role as one in which he works with us to bring out the best in each of us.” The effect of that coaching, Anderson adds, is cumulative and deeply personal: “Being part of the PACS project has taught me a lot about developing a style to suit the group I’m playing with. The way in which I approach articulation or the length of notes is quite nuanced now, thanks to the way in which Maestro Bernard specifically approaches the pieces we play.” Miskovitz confirms that this communication extends well beyond the verbal, noting that over the course of rehearsals, Bernard “communicates these nuances through repetition of rehearsal as well as shaping gestures in the moment.”

Conducting from Memory: The Necessity of Eyes

Among the disciplines that distinguish Bernard's work on the podium, none is more demanding — or more consequential in performance — than his practice of conducting the major repertoire entirely from memory. Mahler's Ninth. Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. Beethoven cycles. The score is never on the stand.

Asked what this discipline gives him in rehearsal and performance that a score on the stand could not provide, Bernard answered with characteristic economy:

"Yes — I conduct most concerts from memory. The most important benefit is that your body and eyes are free to fully engage with the musicians. When you look down at the score, you break that engagement, and the performance's overall energy suffers. The connection between musicians and the conductor is made and maintained through the eyes. I believe it is a necessity. My goal in preparation is to internalize the score, which not only results in the high-resolution view discussed earlier, but also results in memorization." — David Bernard

Kwak, reflecting on what this means from the musicians' vantage point, speaks to the sheer depth of knowledge it implies: "Maestro Bernard's understanding of each of the pieces is unparalleled, and his passion and work ethic are second to none. He conducts entirely from memory, and his knowledge of classical music is quite intimidating in the most admirable way. All of the training, knowledge, passion, and dedication just come out through his energy — and we just can't help but be sucked into his vortex."

Stripping Tradition: The Score on Its Own Terms

In a previous review of the PACS Mahler Ninth recording, I wrote that it achieves "that most elusive of musical goals: making a well-known work sound freshly minted, as if the ink on Mahler's manuscript had barely dried." That freshness does not arrive by accident. It is the result of a conductor who approaches a score by asking not what tradition demands, but what the music itself requires.

Asked directly how he strips away accumulated interpretive habit to help his musicians hear a familiar score with new ears, Bernard offered his fullest statement of artistic philosophy:

"When I approach a score, I tend to strive to highlight and release the natural flow and line inside the music — it is something of an obsession of mine. This can involve, to some degree, countering traditions of rubato to eliminate headwinds and obstacles to the flow and line that I see as embedded in the music. Mahler's Ninth is a work that carries quite a bit of performance tradition, some of which I stripped away to achieve what I felt was driven by the music itself. The most drastic overall change in character is the opening of the First Movement, which is often played through the lens of tugging at heartstrings in anguish. To me, the music's line demanded a youthful flow — looking back to Mahler's childhood, strolling through the countryside. This fit the music like a glove — a unique and refreshing result." — David Bernard

He went on to describe how the orchestra internalized that transformation in rehearsal:

"In rehearsal, the orchestra adapted beautifully — shifting from drawing espressivo from each note (a more vertical approach) to seeing the flow and line (a more horizontal approach). It is helpful to point out the contrapuntal dimension of this music — to listen to the outer voices and how they support each other. As we continued, the string players managed their sound and vibrato to support the line, and the new sound emerged. This particular transformation was memorable for me." — David Bernard

Jenn Forese, a flutist with both PACS and the Massapequa Philharmonic who wrote her graduate thesis on Mahler, was uniquely positioned to recognize what Bernard was doing — and uniquely grateful for it:

"When we were working on Mahler 9, I really enjoyed the extra highlighting of particular phrases and moments that could have been overlooked. As someone who has studied Mahler intensely in graduate school and wrote my thesis focusing on Mahler, I truly appreciated the highlighting of moments that I already knew were often overlooked. It brought more justice to our performance of Mahler's music." — Jenn Forese, flute — PACS and MPO

Outside, the thermometer had plunged to single digits—the kind of merciless February evening that sends even the heartiest New Yorkers retreating to their radiators. Nevertheless, those who braved the arctic chill and made their way to the DiMenna Center for Classical Music on West 37th Street were rewarded with something far warmer than any furnace could provide. The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony (PACS), under the baton of its visionary Music Director David Bernard, presented “Sublime Schubert,” a program of staggering beauty and intellectual depth that transformed the hall into a sanctuary of tonal radiance and communal warmth. Indeed, by the time the first pianissimo tremolo of the Unfinished Symphony sparkled through the room, every last shiver had been replaced by a quiet, collective gasp of wonder.

Maestro David Bernard describing Franz Schubert's Symphonic Works in a concert entitled "Sublime Schubert' with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music. Photo by Edward Kliszus

Active Inhabitants of the Orchestral Soundscape

Maestro Bernard, with his characteristic geniality and pedagogical flair, opened the evening with warm welcomes and introductions, setting the stage for what would prove to be an extraordinary immersive experience. Moreover, his remarks served as a gentle overture of their own—contextualizing the music, illuminating the genius of Franz Schubert, and, most importantly, inviting the audience to participate not merely as passive listeners but as active inhabitants of the orchestral soundscape. Clearly, the truest engagement with music demands not distance but proximity—and proximity, in every conceivable sense, was precisely what this evening delivered.

Inside the Sound: The InsideOut Concert Experience as the Ultimate Quadraphonic Journey

What distinguishes a PACS concert from virtually any other orchestral event in New York City is the patented InsideOut Concerts® format, pioneered and perfected by Bernard himself. Rather than the conventional proscenium arrangement—with its implicit barrier between performer and listener—the InsideOut model disperses the audience among the musicians of a 100-plus-member orchestra. The result is nothing less than the ultimate quadraphonic stereo experience, a total immersion in orchestral polyphony that renders even the finest home audio system a pale imitation. Consequently, every fortissimo is visceral, every pianissimo intimate, and every harmonic overtone palpable as it travels through the air and, quite literally, through your body.

Music Education and Musical Rapture Need Not Be Adversaries

Bernard encouraged audience members to look around throughout the concert, take photographs, and observe the musicianship unfolding in every direction. Furthermore, he invited individual sections of the orchestra to hold up their instruments for identification. To illuminate key passages, the orchestra performed brief excerpts. This revelatory approach—part master class, part theatrical experience, part sacred ritual—recalls what Leonard Bernstein championed in his legendary Young People’s Concerts: the conviction that music education and musical rapture need not be adversaries but can, in fact, be exquisite allies. Just as cinema devised IMAX to intensify its art form, and theater devised site-specific productions to dissolve the fourth wall, so InsideOut stands as classical music’s answer—its own revolution of intimacy and immersion.

Additionally, Maestro Bernard enriched the immersive tapestry with yet another sensory dimension: a large projection screen displaying evocative scenes, historical imagery, and contextual text throughout the performance. This visual counterpoint served as a luminous companion to the orchestral narrative, offering audiences biographical vignettes of Schubert's world, structural annotations illuminating thematic development, and atmospheric imagery that deepened the emotional resonance of each movement. Far from distracting, these projections functioned as a kind of visual programme note — a silent docent guiding the eye while the ear remained enraptured. The effect was holistic and transporting, transforming the concert into a genuinely multisensory experience that honored both the intellect and the imagination.

Unwavering Devotion to Craft

One of the most arresting aspects of sitting within the orchestra is the opportunity to watch the faces of both musicians and fellow audience members. The musicians, generally appearing dispassionate on the surface, are in truth burning with intense concentration, particularly during the more technically demanding passages. Yet when the music alights into a tender, Romantic venture—a lyrical second theme, a sighing appoggiatura—some musicians gently smile, a quiet acknowledgment of beauty passing through their hands and breath. The audience members, by contrast, are openly expressive, their faces registering wonder, contemplation, and at times a kind of luminous melancholy that only Schubert can provoke. It takes thousands of hours of preparation and an unwavering devotion to craft to perform orchestral music at this level, and those hours were manifest in every phrase the PACS delivered this evening.

A Young Man’s Torso, Perfectly Formed: The Symphony No. 8 in B Minor (“Unfinished”)

The evening began with Schubert’s Symphony No. 8 in B Minor, the celebrated “Unfinished,” and here Bernard made a decision both generous and symbolically resonant. He honored this work—written by a young man overflowing with melodic invention—by placing it in the hands of another young man: his son, James Bernard, who served as guest conductor for the performance. It was a gesture at once paternal and artistic, a passing of the baton (literally) mirroring the essential spirit of Schubertian fellowship and mentorship.

Guest Conductor James Bernard conducting Schubert's "Unfinished" Symphony No. 8 in a concert entitled "Sublime Schubert' with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music. Photo courtesy PACS Thematic Metamorphosis

Before the downbeat, Maestro David Bernard offered illuminating commentary on Schubert’s compositional process. He demonstrated how the melodic and harmonic material from the symphony’s haunting opening theme—that unforgettable pianissimo introduction in the cellos and basses, followed by the sighing oboe-and-clarinet duet—served as the generative seed from which Schubert constructed the entire work. This process of thematic metamorphosis, a hallmark of the Classical-Romantic bridge, was rendered even more vivid when sections of the orchestra performed the germinal motif in isolation, allowing the audience to hear the symphony's DNA before experiencing it in full orchestral bloom.

Luminous Orchestration

James Bernard took the podium with the aplomb of a conductor far beyond his years. His cues were clear and confident; his expression was articulate; his command of dynamics and articulation conveyed the kind of gestural authority that elicited an immediate, musical response from the players. The Allegro moderato first movement unfolded with a brooding tensile strength—the low strings providing a subterranean rumble. At the same time, the woodwinds sang their plaintive cantilena above, a dialogue of shadow and light that Schubert managed with an emotional directness that anticipates the Romantic era’s full flowering. The Andante con moto second movement, meanwhile, arrived like a consolation—its long-breathed melodies and luminous orchestration bathing the room in a glow of serene melancholy.

Guest Conductor James Bernard conducting Schubert's "Unfinished" Symphony No. 8 in a concert entitled "Sublime Schubert' with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music. Photo by Edward Kliszus Rich Orchestral Sonority and Virtuosic Command

David Bernard also noted the poignant historical context: Schubert never heard these works performed live. In his era, orchestral resources were scarce and expensive, and it was Beethoven—towering in reputation and influence—who commanded the forces necessary for premieres of large-scale works. Consequently, Schubert composed in a kind of magnificent isolation, and Bernard opined that this solitude may have emboldened the composer to write passages of exceptional difficulty—passages that only the most accomplished orchestras could realize. It is a bittersweet irony that the PACS, with their inimitable rich orchestral sonority and virtuosic command, were now bringing these works to vibrant, breathing life in exactly the manner Schubert himself never experienced.

Heavenly Length and Earthly Triumph: The Symphony No. 9 in C Major (“The Great”)

Before launching into the second half of the program, David Bernard returned to the podium to share additional insights into Schubert’s life and creative world. He spoke movingly of the Schubertiads—those intimate salon gatherings where the composer and his small circle of devoted admirers made music, recited poetry, and nourished one another’s artistic spirits. These evenings, Bernard explained, were the crucible in which much of Schubert’s chamber music was forged, and they offer an indispensable window into the mind of a composer who died at the devastating age of thirty-one, leaving behind a catalogue of over a thousand works of breathtaking lyrical beauty. As the great critic Harold C. Schonberg once observed in his magisterial survey of the great composers, Schubert possessed an inexhaustible melodic gift that seemed to flow as naturally and continuously as a mountain stream—and the “Great” C Major Symphony represents that stream at full flood.

A Thematic Wellspring

The Symphony No. 9 in C Major is, by any reckoning, a monumental work—Schubert’s capstone orchestral achievement, a composition of what Robert Schumann famously described as “heavenly length.” Bernard introduced the work by having the orchestra perform the celebrated opening horn theme once again, that noble, arching melody that serves as the thematic wellspring for the entire four-movement edifice. This holistic programming approach—showing the audience the architectural blueprint before unveiling the completed cathedral—gave the performance an extraordinary sense of narrative coherence and intellectual transparency.

Maestro David Bernard describing Franz Schubert's Symphonic Works in a concert entitled "Sublime Schubert' with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music. Photo Courtesy PACS A Marvel of Sustained Lyricism

And then the symphony began in earnest, and it was magnificent. David Bernard’s conducting was its usual expressive, precise, and deeply artistic self—a masterclass in orchestral leadership. His rubato was judicious, his accelerandi thrilling, his pianissimi gossamer-thin and achingly beautiful. The first movement’s sonata-form exposition unfolded with grandeur and rhythmic vitality; the Andante con moto second movement was a marvel of sustained lyricism, with the oboe soloists and the strings trading phrases of devastating tenderness; the scherzo blazed with rustic energy and contrapuntal wit; and the finale—that titanic, surging Allegro vivace—built to a peroration of genuine orchestral triumph.

Richly Burnished Sonority

Throughout this demanding work, the PACS musicians prevailed with remarkable aplomb. The woodwind section displayed impeccable intonation and a singing legato. The brass, particularly in the horn passages that are the symphony’s lifeblood, projected with warmth and heroic resonance. The strings—from the shimmering tremolandi of the first violins to the muscular, propulsive eighth-note figures in the cellos and basses—delivered the kind of richly burnished sonority that has become a PACS hallmark. And the timpanist anchored the rhythmic foundations with precision and dramatic flair, particularly in the finale’s electrifying coda. Considering the symphony’s length and formidable technical demands, the orchestra’s sustained concentration and musical cohesion were nothing short of exemplary.

Maestro David Bernard conducting Schubert's "Unfinished" Symphony No. 8 in a concert entitled "Sublime Schubert' with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music. Photo courtesy PACS

A Holistic Vision: Bernard’s Gift for Musical Storytelling

What elevates a PACS InsideOut Concert from mere performance to genuine artistic event is Maestro Bernard’s extraordinary gift for musical storytelling. His spoken commentary throughout the evening was never pedantic or gratuitous; rather, it was illuminating, engaging, and suffused with a palpable love for the music and a sincere desire to share it with everyone in the room. He described his goal as providing the audience with a “holistic” view of Schubert’s music. This approach encompassed not only the sonic experience of the works but also their biographical context, compositional architecture, and emotional depth.

Artist Conversations

This pedagogical generosity recalls the great tradition of musical lecturing that stretches from the 92nd Street Y’s legendary programming—an institution whose decades of pre-concert talks, master classes, and artist conversations have done immeasurable service to music education in New York—to Bernstein’s televised explorations of symphonic form. And now, with its steadfast mission to enrich communal life through the arts, the PACS exemplifies the belief that great music thrives when it is not cloistered but shared, not merely performed but explained, contextualized, and brought into dialogue with its listeners' lives. Bernard’s InsideOut Concerts operate in precisely this spirit, and the results—judging by the rapt attention and audible delight of this evening’s audience—speak for themselves.

The DiMenna Center: A Jewel Box for Immersive Music-Making

A word must be said about the venue itself. The DiMenna Center for Classical Music, located at 450 West 37th Street in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, is New York City’s only acoustically optimized space dedicated exclusively to classical music rehearsal, recording, and performance. Opened in 2011 as the permanent home of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, the Center has since welcomed more than 100,000 visitors and over 400 ensembles. Its warm, resonant acoustics and flexible seating configurations make it an ideal home for the InsideOut format, and the space's intimacy ensures that every nuance of the orchestra’s playing registers with clarity and emotional impact.

Schubert’s Eternal Song: Why This Music Still Matters

Franz Schubert, who died in 1828 at the age of thirty-one, left behind a body of work of astonishing breadth and emotional depth—over six hundred songs, numerous chamber works, piano sonatas, masses, operas, and nine symphonies. He was, as Schumann recognized with prophetic clarity when he unearthed the “Great” C Major Symphony in 1839, a composer whose music bore within it “the core of everlasting youth.” It took roughly four decades after Schubert’s death for the world to recognize his full genius, and his influence ultimately rippled through the work of Brahms, Dvořák, Bruckner, and Mahler. If he was not the first of the Romantics—that distinction belongs more properly to Weber—he was, in the words of the great critics, the first lyric poet of music, a designation that rings truer with every passing generation.

Franz Schubert by Wilhelm August Rieder 1875. Public Domain As Inevitable as Birdsong at Dawn

There is in Schubert’s music a quality of interior luminescence—a way of catching the fleeting impressions of consciousness and fixing them in sound that is akin to the stream-of-consciousness technique in literature. His melodies arrive not as constructed things but as natural phenomena, as inevitable as birdsong at dawn, and yet they carry within them a piercing awareness of transience that gives them their peculiar, aching beauty. To sit inside the orchestra and feel these melodies pass through you—through the vibration of nearby strings, the breath of a neighboring oboist, the resonance of a French horn bell pointed directly at you—is to experience Schubert’s music in the most intimate and revelatory way possible. It is, in a word, transformative.

An Invitation to Experience Music Anew

This was, from first note to last, an evening of solid musicianship and inspired artistry, replete with the PACS’s inimitable rich orchestral sound. Maestro David Bernard, commanding and eloquent at the helm, demonstrated once again why he has been called “the Johnny Appleseed of Classical Music”—a champion and evangelist for an art form that too many have written off as inaccessible or irrelevant. James Bernard, stepping confidently into the spotlight, proved himself a conductor of genuine promise and musical sensitivity. And the men and women of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony played with the kind of devotion, precision, and heartfelt expression that honors not only the composer but the art of music itself.

Single-Composer Deep Dives

If you have not yet experienced an InsideOut Concert, do not wait. The PACS’s 2025–2026 season, “Immersions and Explorations,” promises more evenings of this caliber—programs built around single-composer deep dives that draw audiences into broader, deeper perspectives on the masterworks. Classical music, at its best, is not a museum piece but a living, breathing, communal act of beauty and meaning. The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony, under David Bernard’s inspired leadership, proves this truth anew with every performance.

There are evenings in the concert hall when time loosens its grip—when chronology, obligation, and the ordinary architecture of thought quietly dissolve, yielding to something at once more primal and more elevated. Such a moment unfolded on a December night at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts in Brookville, as the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony joined forces with the Eglevsky Ballet to present Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's immortal The Nutcracker. What emerged was not merely a seasonal tradition faithfully renewed, but an artistic convergence in which music, movement, color, and collective imagination fused into a shared experience of wonder—an experience that lingered long after the final note faded.

David Bernard with musicians and members of the ballet troupe moments before the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Conducted with characteristic élan, structural clarity, and emotional intelligence by David Bernard, the performance affirmed the enduring power of live art to enchant, to console, and to remind us—especially in the depths of winter—why human beings continue to gather in darkened theaters, hearts open, ready to be changed.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Tchaikovsky's Score: Inexhaustible Wonder

As Theodor Adorno observed, truly great music reveals new dimensions with each encounter, and The Nutcracker—despite its familiarity—proved inexhaustible. The celesta's silvery shimmer, the pizzicato delicacy of the Trepak, the sweeping cantabile of the Grand Pas de Deux: all emerged freshly minted, as if heard for the first time.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

The Literary Provenance of an Enchanted Tale

The setting itself contributed immeasurably to the evening's effect. Tilles Center for the Performing Arts, Long Island's premier live entertainment venue, remains a vital cultural beacon, both architecturally imposing and acoustically refined. Its 2,200-seat Concert Hall, nestled on the campus of Long Island University in Brookville, offered an ideal frame for this grand-scale collaboration—intimate enough to preserve detail, expansive enough to accommodate spectacle.

For nearly four decades, Tilles Center has welcomed artists of international distinction while serving as a cultural commons for Nassau and Suffolk counties. Its commitment to accessibility, education, and artistic excellence makes it a natural home for Eglevsky Ballet's annual Nutcracker. This production has become a cherished seasonal ritual for generations of families.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Tilles Center: Long Island's Cultural Jewel

For nearly four decades, Tilles Center, as a nonprofit institution, has welcomed 150,000 visitors annually, presenting world-renowned artists across all genres while serving as a vital cultural hub for Nassau and Suffolk counties. The Center's commitment to making the performing arts accessible to all—from symphonic performances to ballet to children's programming—makes it the natural home for Eglevsky Ballet's annual Nutcracker tradition.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Orchestral Excellence: The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Full Flower

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony, recipient of three First Prize awards from The American Prize Competition in Orchestral Performance, once again justified its reputation for depth, discipline, and expressive generosity. Long admired for its transparent sonority and stylistic integrity, the ensemble played with a refinement that revealed Tchaikovsky's orchestration in all its shimmering detail.

Under David Bernard's direction—a conductor aptly dubbed "the Johnny Appleseed of Classical Music"—the score unfolded with a natural sense of breath and proportion. Tempi felt organic, rubato expressive yet never indulgent, and dynamic contrasts were shaped with architectural care. Soft passages hovered as snowfall while climaxes bloomed without heaviness, allowing the music's inherent lyricism to speak.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org The Winds: A Particular Triumph

Of particular distinction throughout the evening was the ever-powerful wind section, performing exactly as Tchaikovsky intended. The composer, that master orchestrator who understood each instrument's unique voice with almost supernatural prescience, wrote wind parts of uncommon brilliance for The Nutcracker, and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony's principals rose magnificently to the challenge. Principal flutist Kennedy Burgess delivered the Sugar Plum Fairy's celestial melody with an espressivo quality that seemed to float above the orchestra like morning mist over a still pond. The piccolo work throughout sparkled with bravura, while the oboe, clarinet, and bassoon soloists articulated legato phrases of notable elegance.

The famous Waltz of the Flowers unfolded with rubato that breathed naturally, the harp arpeggios of Sophia Shedd rippling beneath the melody like sunlight on water. Indeed, the entire evening showcased solid playing throughout, with the works' colors and moods performed with verve and aplomb—a tour de force of orchestral collaboration.

New York City Ballet principal dancers Miriam Miller as the Sugar Plum Fairy and Tyler Angle as her Cavalier in a scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Dance of the Highest Order: Principal Dancers from the New York City Ballet

The Sugar Plum Fairy and Her Cavalier

The crown jewels of this vast production included, without question, the guest appearances by New York City Ballet principal dancers Miriam Miller as the Sugar Plum Fairy and Tyler Angle as her Cavalier. Their performance of the Pas de Deux from George Balanchine's The Nutcracker®—presented by arrangement with The George Balanchine Trust and produced in accordance with the Balanchine Style® and Balanchine Technique® Service standards—was nothing short of breathtaking.

Ms. Miller, who ascended to the rank of principal dancer at NYCB just this January 2025, brought to the Sugar Plum Fairy a luminous quality that seemed almost otherworldly. Her port de bras flowed with liquid grace, each arabesque held with the kind of serene stillness that speaks to complete mastery of one's instrument. There was, in her dancing, that rare quality which the great ballet critic Arlene Croce once described as the ability to make virtuosity appear effortless—to transform technical mastery into pure poetry.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Mr. Angle, a principal since October 2009 and a veteran of countless Nutcracker performances at Lincoln Center, partnered Ms. Miller with the gallantry and technical assurance that have made him one of NYCB's most valued danseurs nobles. His lifts were secure yet seemingly weightless, his tours en l'air crisp and landed with feline precision. Together, they embodied that Balanchinian ideal of partnership—two individuals moving as one, each enhancing the other's artistry through perfect symbiosis.

A Grand Production: The Eglevsky Ballet's New Vision

Peter LeBreton Merz's Fresh Choreography

The new choreography by Artistic Director Peter LeBreton Merz brought fresh energy to this beloved classic while honoring its traditions. Mr. Merz, whose distinguished career spans the Academy at Ballet West, Point Park University, and the USA International Ballet Competition, has created a production that speaks to contemporary sensibilities while preserving the work's essential enchantment. His reimagining of the Act II divertissements—incorporating global holiday traditions from the Good Luck Grapes of Spain to the Dongzhi celebration of China—demonstrates a thoughtful expansion of the ballet's cultural horizons.

Choreographer and Artistic Director Peter LeBreton Merz and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

The Full Company: A Stage Alive with Movement

The scale of this production must be acknowledged: here was a company of dancers, magnificent scenery, period costuming, and a symphony orchestra—the kind of grand theatrical undertaking that has become all too rare in our economically constrained artistic landscape. The Eglevsky Ballet, founded in 1961 by legendary New York City Ballet principal dancer André Eglevsky, demonstrated throughout the evening why it has remained Long Island's premier ballet company for over sixty years.

The company dancers performed with notable dedication. Bella Radolovic, in her eighth season with Eglevsky, brought youthful wonder to Clara, while Giuliano Ruocco danced the Nutcracker Prince with athletic grace. The supporting cast—including Brett Dalis as both the Harlequin Doll and Rat King, Courtney Jordan as Frau Drosselmeyer, and the luminous Ayne Kim as Dew Drop—contributed performances of consistent quality and commitment.

The Waltz of the Snowflakes in Act I, with its corps of sixteen dancers moving in unison patterns of crystalline precision, demonstrated Répétiteur Courtney Jordan's meticulous rehearsal direction. The Flowers of Act II, led by Claire Higgins and Caroline Jonassen, unfolded with the legato grace that Tchaikovsky's sweeping waltz demands.

Conductor David Barnard in the forefront during curtain calls at the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Tchaikovsky's Masterpiece: A Score of Inexhaustible Riches

Truly great music resists exhaustion. It does not yield its meaning all at once, nor does familiarity diminish its force; rather, each encounter discloses new internal relationships, fresh emotional weather, newly perceived truths. The Nutcracker—despite its omnipresence during the holiday season—proved once again the accuracy of this insight. What lesser works risk becoming background ritual, Tchaikovsky's score continually reclaims as living experience.

Completed in 1892, the music reveals a composer at the height of his imaginative powers, deploying orchestral color with a specificity that feels almost sentient. The celesta's otherworldly shimmer for the Sugar Plum Fairy—an instrument so novel that Tchaikovsky famously concealed its use until the premiere—still sounds like a message from another realm. The pizzicato delicacy of the Trepak, the long-breathed cantabile of the Grand Pas de Deux, the glowing warmth of the waltzes: each passage seems to know precisely how memory works, how wonder forms, how joy takes hold before the mind can interfere.

A scene from the Eglevsky Ballet production of The Nutcracker at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Conductor David Bernard. Courtesy eglevskyballet.org

Adorno warned that art loses its force when it becomes merely consumable. Yet The Nutcracker survives precisely because it does the opposite: it reawakens perception. Heard in the context of live performance—embodied by dancers, shaped by breath, suspended in silence—it restores what modern life so often dulls: attentiveness, emotional openness, and the capacity for unguarded delight.

The original 1892 production, choreographed by Lev Ivanov to Petipa's scenario at the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg, launched a tradition that would eventually conquer the Western world. George Balanchine's 1954 production for New York City Ballet transformed the work into an American institution, and it is fitting that his Pas de Deux graced this Long Island production.

An Evening of Pure Enchantment

There are moments in life where dreams take flight and sugar plums dance upon the air. It is then that music transcends the merely beautiful and achieves something approaching the miraculous—when an orchestra, a conductor, and an audience breathe together in perfect communion. The world beyond the concert hall simply ceases to exist.

Such was the enchantment wrought by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony under the luminous baton of David Bernard in their presentation of The Nutcracker: The Family InsideOut Concerts® Experience at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music in New York City.

David Bernard introducing InsideOut Nutcracker with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music in NYC. Photo by Edward Kliszus

A Conductor's Gift: The Art of Musical Storytelling

Maestro Bernard, that rare amalgam of scholar, showman, and poet, possesses what one might call the pedagogical temperament of Leonard Bernstein combined with the interpretive depth of the great European tradition. Conducting the entire ballet from memory—a feat that speaks to both his formidable intellect and his profound internalization of this beloved score—he moved between podium and audience with the ease of a master storyteller, his introductory remarks preceding each section transforming what could have been mere musical illustration into a genuine Gesamtkunstwerk—Tchaikovsky's total work of art that engaged hearts and minds alike.

A view from the woodwind section of Ballet Dancer Savanah Quiner in a scene from InsideOut Nutcracker with David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music in NYC. Courtesy PACS

The tale itself, as Bernard reminded his rapt audience, springs from darker roots than the confectionery delights of the ballet might suggest. E. T. A. Hoffmann's original 1816 fairy tale, The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, presented a Gothic fantasy of considerable psychological complexity—a Märchen in which the boundaries between waking life and dream dissolve into something strange and wonderful.

Yet the ballet we cherish today emerged from a gentler French adaptation by Alexandre Dumas entitled The Story of a Nutcracker, which softened Hoffmann's shadows while preserving the essential magic. This French confection served as the narrative framework for Marius Petipa and his assistant, Lev Ivanov, to construct their choreographic masterpiece for the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg, where it premiered in December 1892.

Splendid visual art of a scene from The Nutcracker with Conductor David Bernard, Ballet Dancer Savannah Quiner, and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music in NYC. Courtesy PACS

Orchestral Excellence: The Winds Sing, The Strings Soar

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony—three-time First Prize Winner of The American Prize Competition in Orchestral Performance—demonstrated precisely why critics have proclaimed their performances "triumphant, polished, exquisite, with the depth and fervor of the old school European orchestras." Founded in 1999 and nurtured by Bernard's visionary leadership, this ensemble has achieved a remarkable synthesis of technical polish and interpretive vitality.

The orchestral playing throughout the afternoon was nothing short of bravura—solid, assured, and brimming with the colors and moods that Tchaikovsky painted with such orchestral brilliance. The ever-powerful winds, written with that characteristic Tchaikovskian espressivo, sang forth with noble authority. The flute solos possessed an otherworldly shimmer, whilst the piccolo's crystalline arabesques in the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" sparkled like frost upon a winter window. The woodwind choir achieved a pianissimo of gossamer delicacy in the "Waltz of the Snowflakes," creating that sense of frozen enchantment that Tchaikovsky surely envisioned.

Particularly noteworthy was the orchestra's handling of the famous celesta passages—that instrument which Tchaikovsky discovered during a Parisian sojourn and immediately recognized as the perfect "voice" of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The bell-like tones floated above the ensemble with ethereal purity, achieving what might be termed a timbral transcendence.

Tchaikovsky by Reutlinger (1888). Émile Reutlinger, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Terpsichorean Delights: The Dancers Who Enchanted

Ballet and music intertwined most gloriously through the participation of exceptional dance artists who brought visual poetry to Tchaikovsky's sonic canvas. Savannah Quiner, a luminous talent from the American Repertory Ballet, performed the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" and the role of Clara with exquisite legato movement and ethereal grace. Her port de bras possessed that rare quality of seeming to continue infinitely beyond the physical gesture—I might describe it as movement that shimmers and ripples like light upon water.

The dancers from Eglevsky Ballet—that venerable Long Island institution founded by legendary New York City Ballet principal dancer André Eglevsky over fifty years ago—brought professional élan to the "Marzipan/Merlitons" divertissement. Charlotte Jonassen, Josette Gerber, Eleanor Han, Ella Zhu, and Gabriella Renosis performed with disciplined artistry and joyful abandon, their synchronized movements creating visual counterpoint to the flutes' delicate melodies. These young artists embody the finest traditions of classical training, demonstrating that the pedagogical legacy of the great Russian ballet masters continues to flourish on American soil.

Nutcracker. Image by Enrique from Pixabay

The InsideOut Experience: Innovation Meets Tradition

What distinguishes Bernard's approach—indeed, what has earned him recognition as "the Johnny Appleseed of Classical Music"—is his revolutionary InsideOut Concerts® format, in which audiences are seated among the musicians. This patented innovation dissolves the traditional barrier between performer and listener, creating an immersive experience of extraordinary intimacy. As WQXR, Newsday, and Classical World have attested, this format offers "an unsurpassed experience and level of engagement for audiences of all ages."

Featured Dancers assembling pre-performance with InsideOut Nutcracker with David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music in NYC. Courtesy PACS.

The full house—parents and children alike, many of the latter dressed in festive holiday garb—responded to each introduction with enthusiastic warmth. But the true coup de théâtre arrived during the closing "Waltz of the Flowers," when children were invited to the front of the hall. There, at the podium itself, Bernard showed each young aspirant how to conduct the orchestra in this most famous of waltzes. The sight of small arms waving earnestly while the orchestra responded with professional courtesy and genuine affection was enough to melt the most cynical heart. Images from a ballet performance projected on a large screen accompanied the musical journey, creating a multimedia experience that genuinely touched hearts and minds in its delight and sheer enjoyment.

Savannah Quiner, Dancer. Photo by Rachel Neville

A Living Tradition: The Enduring Magic of Tchaikovsky

There was no end to the smiles of children and adults alike. Bernard's animated, inspired introductions created that most precious of musical phenomena: genuine gemütlichkeit, a communal warmth that made strangers into fellow travelers in Tchaikovsky's magical realm. Since the San Francisco Ballet began staging annual performances in America in the 1940s, The Nutcracker has become synonymous with the holiday season. This tradition now accounts for approximately 40% of the yearly ticket revenue of major American ballet companies.

Yet traditions endure not through mere repetition but through constant renewal. In the hands of Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony, Tchaikovsky's score—which the composer himself once disparaged as "infinitely worse than Sleeping Beauty"—achieves its rightful status as one of the supreme achievements of the balletic repertoire. The orchestration glitters; the melodies soar; and for one magical afternoon at the DiMenna Center, the Land of Sweets became as real as the streets of Manhattan beyond its doors.

Maestro David David Bernard engaging with the audience at an InsideOut Concert with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music In New York City. Photo Courtesy Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony Contact Information

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

Website: chambersymphony.com Tickets: Eventbrite Season Events Venue: DiMenna Center for Classical Music, 450 West 37th Street, New York, NY 10018 Email: [email protected]

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An interview with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony's conductor and impresario about the November 22nd concert at DiMenna Center for Classical Music in NYC

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony kicks off its 2025-2025 season at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music on November 22, 2025, with one of the most thrilling works in the orchestral repertoire: Camille Saint-Saëns' Symphony No. 3 in C minor, the "Organ Symphony." I sat down with David Bernard, the ensemble's conductor and impresario, to discuss why this concert promises to be an unforgettable evening.

Saint-Saëns' Third Symphony: A Showcase Masterwork

Edward Kliszus: Maestro Bernard, Saint-Saëns' Third Symphony is incredibly popular—and I think it is one of the greatest symphonies ever written. What are your thoughts on this incredible work?

David Bernard: I completely agree that it is one of the greatest symphonies, and I am often puzzled by the degree to which Saint-Saëns is under-estimated as a composer. He was both an innovator and a craftsman—always writing music that inspires and delights. But with his Third Symphony, we have the pinnacle of his symphonic career. Saint-Saëns called the Third Symphony his “most important work,” having “poured everything he knew” into it.

What makes it extraordinary is how you hear Saint-Saëns crafting every note and every phrase to be his absolute best. I call this kind of work a “Showcase Symphony,” where the composer demonstrates a lifelong artistic arc by presenting the most evolved voice. As you listen to the pacing, contrapuntal skill, beautiful textures, and melodies expertly intertwined and choreographed through one of the most prominent orchestras that can fit in a concert hall, along with a large organ and a grand piano with two players, you vividly experience all that Saint-Saëns has to offer the world.

Camille Saint-Saëns by Eugène Pirou, 1880. Bibliothèque nationale de France, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

EK: It certainly is a "showcase symphony," as you put it—is this what drew you to programming this work?

DB: I seem to be drawn to “showcase symphonies”. Despite each symphony existing in its own artistic world, composers often seek to hone and perfect their voices over the course of their lifetimes. This quest frequently results in a late work that emerges as their last and best artistic expression. There are so many examples of this—in both Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique and Mahler’s Ninth, each movement presents the composer’s most evolved voice across key archetypes. La Mer was Debussy’s “Showcase Symphony”—a work that he continued to perfect and adjust to his final day. And Gershwin, in an homage to Debussy, similarly wrote and perfected “An American in Paris” in a similar way to Debussy and La Mer.

EK: Interesting point about Tchaikovsky Pathetique and Mahler’s Ninth—though these works are seen as “Farewells” not “Showcases” by many. That seems to be contradictory, right?

Yes, that’s true. When studying these works, I felt the energy and creative imperative emanate from each page. I heard a creative voice relentlessly elevating this music to new heights, making it difficult to see them as reflective of composers with one foot in the astral plane. They are clearly showcases of mastery and sophistication.

EK: This piece is commonly known as the "Organ Symphony," but won’t those who know this work from its triumphant Finale be surprised to learn that the organ doesn't play throughout the entire work?

DB: The name “Organ Symphony” didn’t come from Saint-Saëns. For him, it was simply “Symphony No. 3,” and the inclusion of the Organ, along with the virtuosic solo Piano part, is all about Saint-Saëns showcasing his most evolved artistic voice. In this work, you have Saint-Saëns the Organist, and Saint-Saëns the virtuoso pianist, along with Saint-Saëns the symphonist, all seamlessly integrated. And just as Saint-Saëns portrayed all of the facets of this musical life, his use of the Organ showcased everything the instrument brings. Alongside the triumphant organ in the Finale, there are the subtle ethereal organ textures in the Adagio. And yes, there are incredible purely symphonic sections as well.

Digital Organ Technology Meets Classical Performance

From the Space Program to the Concert Hall

EK: I have attended many concerts at the DiMenna Center and have never seen an Organ there. How will you feature the Organ on November 22nd?

DB: We will be bringing in an Allen Dual Manual Digital Organ for this concert. The DiMenna Center is a flexible performance space, and a digital organ allows us to bring an appropriate organ sound to this excellent venue. Digital organs can be voiced and balanced specifically for the space they're in. We can ensure seamless integration between the organ and the orchestra, which is essential for this piece.

EK: Some purists might argue that only a large pipe organ can do justice to this work. What would you say to them?

DB: Large pipe organs are wonderful, with an incredible variety of sounds and range, creating absolutely breathtaking sound worlds. And it is undoubtedly important to remember that this symphony was written with a large pipe organ in mind. However, a symphony alongside a large pipe organ presents significant challenges for presenters and the audience. In most cases, performing or recording this work on a large pipe organ requires using a church that is not well-suited to such performances. While it is possible to address acoustic hurdles in a recording with mic placement, the results vary. In many recordings, including Eugene Ormandy's with E. Power Biggs, the organ is recorded separately from the orchestra and is incorporated in post-production. But in live performances, while the organ is perfectly harmonized with the church's acoustics, the orchestra is not. The clarity and balance of the orchestra within itself and with the organ suffer, with challenges that vary depending on where you are sitting in the pews.

Paolo Bordignon, Harpsichord and Organ. Courtesy paolobordignon.com

In this event, we can create the perfect environment for Saint-Saëns' Symphony No. 3. The Digital Pipe Organ's speakers will be placed to surround the audience, who are seated within the orchestra. This way, the audience experiences the organ and the orchestra from within, fully immersed in Saint-Saëns' incredible sound world, something not possible without the Digital Organ or InsideOut.

And we're absolutely thrilled to have Pablo Bordignon as our organist for this performance. Pablo is not only a magnificent musician but also brings an exceptional pedigree to this project. As Organist and Choirmaster at the Church of St. Bartholomew on Park Avenue—one of New York's most prestigious musical institutions—he works with one of the city's finest pipe organs week in and week out. Pablo intimately understands both the capabilities and the sonic character of great pipe organs, which makes him the ideal artist to realize Saint-Saëns' vision through our digital instrument.

What's remarkable about Pablo is his versatility and his deep understanding of the French Romantic organ tradition that Saint-Saëns was writing for. He knows exactly how to voice the registrations, how to shape those long, sustained lines in the Adagio, and how to unleash the organ's full majesty in that triumphant finale. His sensitivity as a musician means he'll be listening intently to the orchestra, ensuring perfect balance and integration—which is crucial, as I mentioned, because this isn't an organ concerto but a true symphony where organ and orchestra must breathe as one.

Having an organist of Pablo's caliber also means our audiences will hear interpretive choices informed by the highest level of artistry. He brings both technical mastery and profound musicality to everything he plays. The fact that he's equally comfortable with the great pipe organs of New York's churches and with cutting-edge digital technology speaks to his forward-thinking approach to music-making. He understands that what matters most is serving the music and the composer's intentions, regardless of the medium.

What to Listen For in Saint-Saëns' Organ Symphony

EK: What should audiences listen for in this symphony?

DB: Oh, there's so much! First, listen for the motto theme that appears at the beginning—a simple four-note motif that Saint-Saëns transforms throughout the entire symphony. It's like a musical seed that grows into a mighty tree. In the first movement, pay attention to the strings' passionate outpouring and the mysterious atmosphere Saint-Saëns creates. The slow section is achingly beautiful, with some of the most gorgeous string writing you'll ever hear.

In the second movement, the scherzo section features delightful, quicksilver passage work—listen for the interplay between strings and winds. And then there's the finale: when that organ enters with the full orchestra in C major, it's pure, unbridled joy. The final pages build to an overwhelming climax that never fails to raise the hair on the back of your neck. I've conducted this piece several times, and I still get chills.

In our immersive setup, you can also watch these moments unfold. You might see the organist preparing for that massive entrance or observe the wind players preparing for their solos. It adds another layer of anticipation and excitement to the experience.

EK: The final Maestoso of the Third Symphony was included in the film "Babe." How do you feel about that?

DB: I love “Babe”! The soundtrack included not only a portion of the Third Symphony but also the pop song “If I had Words,” a cover of the same music with lyrics by Jonathan Hodge. It is always wonderful when the audience comes to a concert knowing at least a bit of the music in advance.

Featured Soloist: Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto No. 2

EK: Your program also features Saint-Saëns' Piano Concerto No. 2. How did you choose this work to pair with the Third Symphony?

DB: Consistent with each concert during our 2025-2026 IMMERSIONS AND EXPLORATIONS season, I devoted this concert to an expansive exploration of Saint-Saëns. I chose the Second Piano Concerto as an example of the mature elegance, virtuosity, and seamless blend of French refinement and Romantic passion.

It is also innovative. At the opening of the concerto, where most listeners would expect a majestic first movement, Saint-Saëns delivers a cadenza for the lone soloist. The writing, with its superbly crafted voice leading infused through running 16th notes, sounds like an organ prelude. It is shockingly beautiful and brilliant and clearly designed to evoke Saint-Saëns' personal experiences as an organist. As this movement continues to unfold, Saint-Saëns continues to surprise and delight with a fantasia that contains yet another cadenza. The second movement is a delightful perpetual motion, while the finale delivers a driving tarantella imbued with brilliance and gracefulness. In so many ways, it is a perfect concerto.

Maxim Lando, Pianist. Courtesy maximlando.com Maxim Lando: Virtuoso Pianist and Rising Star

EK: You've engaged the young pianist Maxim Lando for this performance. What can you tell us about him?

DB: Maxim Lando is an extraordinarily talented, musical, and accomplished artist—one of the most exciting pianists on the scene today. He's already built an impressive career performing with major orchestras and at prestigious venues worldwide. What I love about Maxim is that he not only combines dazzling technical facility with genuine musical insight, but he always seems to have fun bringing this music to audiences. And this happens to be one of his favorite concertos, which is always important to me when I select soloists.

Maxim represents the best of the new generation of pianists—artists who have prodigious technique but never let virtuosity overshadow musicality. He studied at some of the world's most prestigious conservatories and has won numerous competitions, but what sets him apart is his maturity as an interpreter. When you hear Maxim play, you're not just witnessing finger gymnastics; you're experiencing a deeply thoughtful musical mind at work. He understands the architecture of a piece, the harmonic language, the rhetorical gestures—all the elements that transform notes on a page into compelling storytelling.

For the Saint-Saëns Second Concerto, you need a pianist who can do it all. The opening cadenza requires not just technical command but also a sense of dramatic timing and improvisatory freedom—it must sound spontaneous, almost as if Maxim were composing it on the spot. The scherzo movement demands crystalline clarity and lightning-fast finger work, with delicate passagework that can easily sound mechanical in lesser hands. And the tarantella finale needs both rhythmic drive and infectious energy. Maxim brings all of these qualities to his playing. He has the technical prowess to toss off the most difficult passages with apparent ease. Still, he also has the sensitivity to shape a phrase beautifully, to find the singing line within the virtuosic display.

What's particularly exciting is Maxim's affinity for French repertoire. He has an innate understanding of that French aesthetic—the elegance, the clarity, the subtle shadings of color that distinguish French Romantic music from its German counterpart. Saint-Saëns was himself one of the greatest pianists of his era, and he wrote this concerto knowing precisely what the instrument could do. Maxim plays with that same kind of natural pianism, where everything sounds effortless even when it's fiendishly difficult.

Beyond his artistry, Maxim is an excellent collaborator. In a concerto, the relationship between soloist and orchestra is crucial—it's a conversation, not a competition. Maxim listens, he responds, he shapes his playing to blend with and complement the orchestral texture. That collaborative spirit will be especially evident in our immersive format, where the audience will see and hear that musical dialogue happening in real time.

I also appreciate that Maxim is genuinely passionate about sharing classical music with diverse audiences. He understands that our mission with the InsideOut concerts is to make classical music more accessible and engaging, and he embraces that philosophy wholeheartedly. His joy in performing is palpable, and that enthusiasm is contagious—it draws audiences in and helps them connect with the music on a deeper level.

The fact that this concerto is one of his favorites means he's lived with this music, studied it deeply, and developed a personal relationship with it. That kind of commitment shows in every performance. When an artist loves the music they're playing, it transforms the experience for everyone in the hall. I do not doubt that Maxim's performance will be one of the highlights of our entire season.

Maestro David David Bernard engaging with the audience at an InsideOut Concert with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music In New York City. Photo Courtesy Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

The InsideOut Concerts Experience: Immersive Classical Music

EK: The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony is known for its immersive seating arrangement. Please explain how this works and why you've chosen this format.

DB: The immersive concert experience is something I'm deeply passionate about because it attracts and builds audiences for classical music. Instead of the traditional setup where the audience sits in rows facing the orchestra, we place audience members throughout the ensemble—you might find yourself sitting next to the French horns, behind the cellos, or near the timpani. It's like being inside the music rather than observing it from a distance.

The philosophy behind this approach is simple: music is an experiential, communal, three-dimensional experience. When you're seated among the musicians, you become part of the performance. You can see the violinists' bows moving in perfect synchronization, watch the eye contact between players as they pass melodic lines back and forth, and observe the physical effort and emotion on the musicians' faces. You hear the music from within, experiencing the different instrumental colors as they bloom around you.

For the Third Symphony specifically, this immersive setup is absolutely ideal. Imagine sitting near the strings during that achingly beautiful slow section, feeling the intimacy and vulnerability of their sound. Or being positioned near the brass when they enter with those triumphant fanfares. And when that organ unleashes its full power in the finale—wherever you're sitting in the hall, you'll feel those vibrations resonating through your entire body, but the orchestral response happening all around you creates an almost surround-sound effect. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

EK: How does the immersive seating change the experience for audience members who might be used to traditional concerts?

DB: It's a revelation for most people. In traditional seating, you get a carefully curated, balanced sound—which is terrific, don't get me wrong. But you're essentially hearing what you would typically hear in a recording: a blended orchestral sound. In the immersive setup, you experience the orchestra as the musicians experience it. You might hear the oboe solo more prominently because you're closer to it, or the rich sonority of the cello section might envelop you. But while every seat offers a unique sonic perspective, the room's acoustic enhancement ensures you hear the full experience.

What surprises people most is the visual element. Concertgoers often tell me they had no idea how much communication happens between musicians—the subtle nods, the breathing together, the way a concertmaster might lean into a phrase to lead the section. You witness the choreography of music-making, a form of artistry in its own right. And for a piece like the Saint-Saëns, where there are so many intricate conversations between different instrumental groups, being able to see and hear those dialogues up close is extraordinary.

What emerges when musical theater's most intimate devils meet Stravinsky's most deceptive angel? What happens when this encounter unfolds in the loving embrace of a community that understands, perhaps better than most Manhattan venues, that great art requires not grandeur but truth?

On a sultry August evening in the Shelter Island School Auditorium, something extraordinary transpired. Here, under the auspices of the Shelter Island Friends of Music, David Bernard and his magnificent Park Avenue Chamber Symphony presented Stravinsky's L'histoire du Soldat with such luminous artistry that the work's century-old themes felt urgently, achingly contemporary.

The Devil's Bargain: Context and Creation

The Soldier's Tale emerged from Stravinsky's own pact with necessity. Stranded in wartime Switzerland, financially desperate, and cut off from his usual Russian and Parisian networks, the composer conceived this chamber work as touring entertainment. This piece could survive on sheer creative wit rather than orchestral opulence. The 1918 influenza pandemic ultimately scuttled Stravinsky's modest touring dreams, much as our own recent pandemic reminded us of art's simultaneously fragile and essential natures.

From these constraints emerged what many consider Stravinsky's most perfectly integrated theatrical work—a piece that represents "a complete change of paradigm" following the horrors of the Great War. The work's seven-instrument ensemble, deliberately modeled on American jazz bands while filtered through Stravinsky's revolutionary harmonic language, created something entirely unprecedented in classical music.

Most significantly, The Soldier's Tale "straddles the divide between the competing ideals of reversion to traditionalism and the rejection of tradition." The work's "Grand Chorale" recalls Bach's harmonic procedures, albeit with modern dissonances. In contrast, the “Dance du Diable” and the “Triumphal March” recall the grotesque aggression of The Rite, with their use of the extreme registers of each instrument, their unrelenting dissonance, and their abandonment of tradition.

A scene from A Soldier's Tale performed by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography Maestro Bernard's Revelatory Leadership: Navigating Stravinsky's Technical Labyrinth

Under David Bernard’s direction, the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony musicians made familiar music sound freshly minted while conquering some of the most demanding challenges in the chamber music repertoire. Bernard's interpretation revealed why Gramophone magazine has praised his recordings for their "intensity, spontaneity, propulsive rhythm, textural clarity, dynamic control, and well-judged phrasing." His approach to Stravinsky's challenging score demonstrated the same "dramatic and incisive conducting" that has earned him recognition across four continents.

The technical demands of The Soldier's Tale are formidable. Stravinsky's score reveals his chief technical traits: bitonality (two voices, each in different keys), rhythmic disruption, dislocation and asymmetry, as well as the telltale prevalence of a diversity of short motifs repeated in layered ostinati. These polytonal structures, where competing pitch centers create harmonic tension without resolution, require musicians to maintain absolute intonational integrity while navigating constantly shifting metrical terrain.

Álfheiður Sæmundsson's violin performance proved particularly masterful in confronting the instrument's central dramatic burden. Her violin must serve as the lynchpin of the entire drama: the soldier's violin (complete with little cadenza), a metaphor for the soul that he will ultimately lose. The technical challenges include exposed solo cadenzas and the need to maintain perfect intonational accuracy while navigating Stravinsky's bitonal harmonic structures—particularly treacherous in the "Little Concert" section, where the violin establishes precise tuning relationships with the other instruments.

Trent Firestine appears as the Devil in a scene from A Soldier's Tale performed by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography

Alex Yu's clarinet work demonstrated exceptional command of some of Stravinsky's most demanding woodwind writing. The clarinet's role requires absolute rhythmic precision, particularly through Stravinsky's constant meter changes, while maintaining the jazz influences Stravinsky absorbed from written scores rather than live performances. Yu's performance in the crucial "Pastorale" movement, where the particular challenge of intonation with the clarinet, achieved a delicate balance between technical accuracy and expressive musicality.

James Marshall's bassoon playing navigated some of the instrument's most treacherous passages in the repertoire. The "Pastorale" movement presents specific intonational challenges requiring ultra-careful listening and flexing to match the clarinet, while the "Ragtime" movement—with its tempo marking of 192 to the eighth and constant meter changes can easily become what is sometimes called a "'ragged' ragtime." Marshall's performance demonstrated the technical mastery required to execute extensive passages involving only two notes, high F# and high G#, while maintaining perfect ensemble coordination.

Mario Correa's trumpet work exemplified the brass challenges inherent in Stravinsky's jazz-influenced writing. The score's demands include not only the technical precision required for the rhythmically complex passages but also the stylistic authenticity needed to evoke the tango, waltz, and ragtime idioms that Stravinsky, despite never having heard jazz performed live, incorporated into his harmonic language.

Trent Firestine as the Devil. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography

Bruce Leggett-Flynn: A Tour de Force of Theatrical Virtuosity

The evening's revelation was undoubtedly Bruce Leggett-Flynn, whose solo inhabitation of every speaking role—Narrator, Soldier, Devil, and all the Devil's various disguises—proved nothing short of miraculous. This British actor, whose background spans rugby fields and nightclub stages, brought a specificity and theatrical intelligence to each character that illuminated every corner of Ramuz's text.

Leggett-Flynn's Devil was particularly memorable—not the cartoonish tempter of lesser productions, but rather a figure of genuine menace wrapped in seductive charm. His transitions between characters occurred with such seamless artistry that the audience never questioned the theatrical logic of his multiple personas. His final incarnation as the triumphant Devil possessed a chilling inevitability that left the audience contemplating the work's moral complexities long after the final notes faded.

Visual Splendor: Ariel Adkins' Surrealist Revolution

Ariel Adkins' production design proved a master class in theatrical imagination. As the founder of Artfully Awear, Adkins has spent years transforming clothing into storytelling tools. Her work has been featured in The New York Times, Vogue, and Forbes through collaborations with MoMA, the Guggenheim, and other significant cultural institutions worldwide.

Her surrealist-inspired design concept—layers of translucent chiffon serving as both sculptural environment and projection surface—created a visual language perfectly aligned with Stravinsky's musical modernism. The costumes' emphasis on "illusion and fragmentation" echoed not only the composer's ties to Surrealism but also the work's central themes of identity and transformation. Adkins possesses that rare ability to make art more accessible" through visual storytelling—precisely what this production achieved.

Bruce Leggett-Flynn as the narrator in a scene from A Soldier's Tale performed by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography The Musical Revelation: Seven Players, Infinite Worlds—Stravinsky's Polytonal Architecture

The heart of this performance lay in Bernard's conducting and his musicians' responses to Stravinsky's revolutionary harmonic language. The work's instrumentation creates equal players in the drama—each instrumentalist becomes a character rather than a mere accompanist. What makes this particularly challenging is Stravinsky's use of bi-quintal structures, where two perfect fifth intervals are stabilized and elaborated, creating harmonic tensions between competing pitch centers that require absolute precision from each performer.

Paul Robertson's percussion work proved central to the drama's psychological architecture. Arguably, the percussion has the last word in the whole piece, representing the Devil's ultimate triumph. The technical challenges include navigating multiple editions of the percussion part, as there are differences between each edition, even those approved by Stravinsky, while maintaining the specific timbral colors Stravinsky demanded for his jazz-influenced rhythmic structures.

Ed Matin's trombone and Bill Nealon's double bass provided the harmonic foundation for Stravinsky's bitonal experiments. The double bass faces challenges in the work's use of layered ostinati, which create an iridescent equilibrium—repetitive patterns that must remain rhythmically absolute while supporting the harmonic tensions of Stravinsky's competing tonal centers.

The ensemble's mastery of Stravinsky's metrical complexities proved particularly impressive. The work is rife with changing time signatures, demanding rock-solid steadiness from each player to prevent the ensemble from derailing. The famous "Ragtime" movement presents the ultimate test—a tempo marking of 192 to the eighth note combined with constant meter changes that can destroy lesser ensembles.

Bernard's approach to ensemble building creates immersive music-making that engages contemporary audiences in uniquely meaningful ways. This evening's performance demonstrated precisely why the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony has earned such critical acclaim for transforming classical music experiences through technical mastery wedded to interpretive insight.

A scene from A Soldier's Tale performed by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography Movement, Magic, and Meaning

The contributions of the movement ensemble—Trent Firestine, Ariel Adkins, and nine-year-old Natali Leon—added layers of physical poetry to the musical storytelling. Their presence reminded us that Stravinsky conceived this work as a multimedia theater piece, not concert music with incidental staging.

Young Natali Leon's participation particularly moved the audience, suggesting that great art crosses generational boundaries when presented with authentic artistic commitment. Her involvement embodied the Shelter Island Friends of Music's mission to bring "world-renowned artists and rising stars" together in the service of musical excellence.

Technical Excellence in Service of Art

The production team's contributions proved equally essential. John Kaasik's lighting design created atmospheric support that enhanced rather than overwhelmed the intimate scale. At the same time, James Marshall's direction demonstrated the sophisticated understanding of musical theater that comes from deep experience in both music and drama. Sara Mundy's stage management ensured seamless transitions that maintained the work's essential flow and continuity.

Trent Firestine as the Devil. Photo by Adam Bundy Photography The Deeper Resonances: Why This Soldier's Tale Matters Now

What made this performance extraordinary was its recognition that The Soldier's Tale speaks directly to our contemporary moment. Stravinsky's Faustian tale about a soldier who trades his authentic self for material success resonates with poignancy in our age of digital distraction and commodified culture.

The work's themes of exile, displacement, and the search for authentic human connection resonate powerfully with audiences still processing their own recent experiences of isolation and loss. I propose that the most meaningful artistic experiences often emerge when performers and audiences recognize their shared humanity through the transformative power of great art.

A Community Triumph

This performance exemplified everything that makes Shelter Island Friends of Music such a vital cultural institution. Their commitment to presenting "world-class cultural performances, free of charge" creates precisely the kind of community-centered artmaking that nurtures both artists and audiences. Their partnership with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony demonstrates how musical excellence and community engagement can coexist beautifully.

The Front Row Center has documented that the most memorable musical experiences often occur when "modern life meets a gentler, more connected past"—precisely what transpired in this intimate school auditorium setting.

The Lasting Impact

As the final notes of the "Triumphal March of the Devil" faded and the audience erupted in applause, one sensed that something genuinely special had occurred. This was not merely a successful performance of a challenging work, but rather a reminder of why live music-making remains irreplaceable in our increasingly digital world.

David Bernard's vision of classical music as accessible, immediate, and emotionally transformative found perfect expression in this evening's artmaking. His innovative approaches to audience engagement—evidenced throughout the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony's 25-year history—continue to demonstrate that traditional concert formats need not be abandoned, but rather reimagined with greater humanity and artistic integrity.

The Soldier's Tale, Courtesy PACS The Art of Necessary Magic

This Soldier's Tale succeeded because everyone involved understood that Stravinsky's masterpiece demands not just musical competence but theatrical courage and emotional truthfulness. Opening Night Online has observed that the most remarkable performances achieve that rare synthesis where technical mastery serves emotional authenticity—where tradition and innovation coexist without contradiction.

On this August evening, Bruce Leggett-Flynn, Ariel Adkins, David Bernard, and the extraordinary musicians of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony reminded us why live performance remains essential: it creates shared experiences that no recording, however excellent, can replicate.

They demonstrated that the most profound art often emerges not from abundance but from constraint—from artists who understand that limitations can become sources of creative liberation. They proved that community-based artmaking, when approached with appropriate seriousness and love, can achieve the highest levels of artistic excellence.

Shelter Island Friends of Music and institutions like it represent something precious in our cultural landscape: spaces where art serves community and community nurtures art, where professional excellence meets human warmth, and where the transformative power of great music can touch hearts and change lives. For those fortunate enough to witness this Soldier's Tale, the memory will linger like the best kind of devil's bargain—one where the exchange enriched rather than impoverished the soul, where art's ancient magic proved once again its capacity to make us more fully human.

This is an Interview between writer Edward Kliszus and Maestro David Bernard about an exciting concert by the Massapequa Philharmonic on September 14, 2025, at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts at Long Island University.

Maestro David Bernard conducting the Massapequa Philharmonic. Courtesy Massapequa Philharmonic

EK: “Live to Screen” movie events have become a mainstream part of orchestra programming, and audiences love them.  Why is this such a phenomenon?

DB: Movies in a theater are a spectacle on their own. Still, if you have a full symphony orchestra of 75 to 100 musicians performing the score live right in front of you, that spectacle is amplified significantly, which is a massive draw for audiences.   But on top of this, no matter how advanced a movie theater’s soundtrack reproduction tech is—Dolby Surround, Digital, and Atmos—nothing beats a live orchestra for bringing the layering and sophistication of a great score to the experience of a movie.  Theater sound reproduction often sounds flat in comparison, and with a live orchestra, the music can truly realize its full potential to shape the audience's experience.

EK: Of course, the quality of the score has to be a significant factor, and John Williams is one of the best, if not THE best, film composer.  How does the “Live to Screen” format specifically impact John Williams' film scores?

DB: John Williams is a phenomenal composer, and his brilliance manifests itself in his film scores on multiple levels.  On the surface level, he is a genius at writing melodies that captivate through their simplicity, which audiences love and remember.  But on deeper levels, Williams brings an impressive level of sophistication through motivic development, contrapuntal integrity, and harmonic rhythm, all of which is brought alive by his approach to orchestration.  While film scores are always integral to the overall dramatic and moment-to-moment experience, as every other aspect of the production, Williams takes that to the next level.

EK: Let’s get right to the music and how Williams takes that to the next level.  From the very start, we get that two-note minor second theme that has become synonymous with sharks.

DB: Yes! We all thought Beethoven was brilliant for making the four-note theme iconic, but Williams outdid Beethoven by making a TWO-note theme iconic.  Of all the possible intervals to use, the minor second, the smallest chromatic interval, is the most disorienting.  Add to this how Williams infuses a sense of motion, which he tightly controls through pacing/tempo, as well as legato outbursts accompanied by ominous wind/brass doublings. This immediately conveys the central character of the movie in the first 45 seconds of the film.

John Williams 2006. Nationalparks, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

EK: That is brilliant, and it is only the beginning.  While the most well-known and recognizable music from Jaws is that two-note motive, the score is much more than the “shark theme”-- how do you characterize William’s score?

DB: Williams is particularly effective in the use of leitmotifs, and even more broadly represents the characters of the drama distinctly in the music composed for them.  The shark is actually the most important of these, as its voice is exclusively “spoken” through the orchestra, which is why the orchestra has so much more material in Act 2, where the shark takes center stage.  The music of the town folks is generally quite upbeat and disconnected from what is actually happening.  The first appearance of this music is in the cue named “Promenade”-sometimes called “Tourists on the Menu” – accompanying scenes of tourists arriving at Amity Island completely oblivious to the dangers lurking in the water.  Williams employs a distinctly classical style and even incorporates a Harpsichord, which is intentionally distinct from all other motives and textures, to illustrate the town's disconnection.  This reminds me of the music Lin Manuel Miranda wrote for King George in Hamilton, employing a British invasion pop aesthetic similar to the Beatles to represent the out-of-touch, antiquated monarchy.

EK: As we shift from the terror on the beaches to the high-seas hunt, how does John Williams’ score adapt?

DB: Well, the shift from the cognitive dissonance of the town leadership and the people of Amity Island to Brody, Hooper, and Quint’s quest on the Orca is a complete refocusing of the movie, with an equally distinct impact on the music.  This is essentially the start of Act 2, where the drama is literally “Man against Beast” –  actually, one of the cues in this music literally has this name.  The music depicting the crew is in baroque style, but rather than being used in a disconnected way as the music for the town’s folk, it is written in a minor key and designed to evoke a fugal subject in a complex episode.  This music clearly depicts the complex and challenging work the crew pushes through to attack the shark, maintain the boat, build the cage, and try to stay alive.  This is Williams at his absolutely brilliant best.

And while the use of the shark motives is as expected from Act 1, in Act 2, it is the musical episodes of conflict—where the crew battles the shark—that literally make the movie.  Here, Williams evokes Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring in a brilliant fusion of rhythmic and tonal complexity that amplifies the audience's experience.

The music almost becomes a character in itself, with buoyant orchestrations that capture their camaraderie, the physicality of the hunt, and the sense of adventure. But of course, Williams never lets us forget the lurking threat—the shark’s two-note motif keeps cutting back in, undercutting the crew’s confidence. The interplay between those two musical worlds—the jaunty, human side and the elemental, predatory force of the shark—is what makes the second act so gripping.

Jaws Book Cover, 1975, Roger Kastel, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

EK: John Williams has often spoken of his debt to the great symphonic tradition—from Wagner's leitmotifs to Stravinsky's rhythmic innovations. How do you perceive Williams positioning himself within this lineage, particularly in a score as deceptively profound yet straightforward as Jaws?

DB: The Jaws score is complex and sophisticated, and this sophistication was undoubtedly inspired by the most vivid works by classical composers.  It is not a secret that Williams leaned heavily on Gustav Holst's The Planets for Star Wars. Still, Jaws expands that palette with explicit references to Debussy's La Mer, Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring, and music by Prokofiev.  What I hear is an extraordinary musician infusing the most effective textures from across a broad repertoire, with an eye/ear that goes deep below the surface. For example, when Williams quotes La Mer in Jaws, he is depicting the sea musically with high resolution.  Why not evoke a similar soundworld to Debussy’s “De l'aube à midi sur la mer?”   Williams’ infusion of leitmotifs through his scores is his way of infusing the music into the drama on a granular level, character by character, interaction by interaction.  I don’t think John Williams would see himself in the lineage of Wagner, Stravinsky, Debussy, and Prokofiev—but his work so clearly reflects his love, respect, knowledge, and appreciation for the great composers, and the craft he has honed, amplifying the experience of listeners through his composition and realization through brilliant orchestration.

EK: What are some of the challenges in performing “live to screen”?  Synchronization with the film presumably allows for no interpretive freedom in tempo. Yet surely there are moments where your musical instincts might suggest a different approach. How do you reconcile this?

DB: There is always a tension between perfect synchronization and musical expression. The technology—click tracks, visual streamers—keeps everyone aligned with the film’s timing, but my job is to make sure the orchestra doesn’t sound mechanical. Williams’s music demands flexibility: tiny shifts in phrasing, pacing, and color that give the score its heartbeat. The challenge is to find those opportunities within the grid—to let the music breathe in ways that enhance, rather than interfere with, the film's dramatic timing. When it works, the orchestra feels as alive and responsive as if we were playing a Mahler symphony, and yet every note lands exactly where Spielberg and Williams intended it to. That balance is both the challenge and the thrill of conducting live-to-screen.

EK: How does performing a score like Jaws change the musicians’ relationship to the film itself? DB: Many musicians come in knowing the movie but not the full score. Once they play it, they realize just how integral the orchestra is to the film’s identity. Suddenly, the shark is not just a cinematic villain but a musical one, living in their own instruments. I think it deepens their appreciation for both the craft of Williams and the impact that orchestral music has on storytelling.

EK: What do you think younger audiences—many of whom weren’t even born when Jaws premiered—gain from experiencing this score live? DB: They gain the realization that orchestral music isn’t abstract or academic—it’s visceral. When they hear 75 musicians conjuring terror, suspense, and exhilaration in real time, they experience the orchestra as a living, breathing force. It’s thrilling, and it makes classical music feel immediately relevant.

EK: If you had to distill Williams’s achievement in Jaws into one idea, what would it be? DB: He proved that music could embody fear itself. Not just accompany it, not just illustrate it—but become it. That’s why the two-note motif is instantly recognizable across generations: because Williams didn’t just write for a film, he tapped into something universal and primal.

For tickets and information about this concert on September 14, 2025, go to: https://www.tillescenter.org/event/jaws-in-concert.

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