Few pieces in the choral-orchestral repertoire have achieved the global popularity of Carmina Burana. Often used in movies and television today, Carl Orff’s vivid and visceral cantata, drawn from a set of medieval secular poems, explodes with rhythmic vitality, bold harmonies, and unforgettable melodic contours.
Though written and premiered in the early 20th century, the source material for Carmina Burana is actually a medieval manuscript discovered in a Bavarian monastery, with texts dating from the 11th to 13th centuries. It contains Latin, Middle High German, and Old French texts that satirize and celebrate the caprices of fortune, the pleasures of spring, drinking, gluttony, lust, and the transient nature of life. Orff selected 24 poems and organized them into a dramatic arc framed by two invocations of the wheel of Fortune, beginning and ending with the thunderous “O Fortuna.”
Musically, Orff employs a language that is at once archaic and modern. He eschews complex counterpoint in favor of driving ostinatos, clear modal melodies, and powerful rhythmic repetition, all of which give the music an almost primal energy. His orchestration, particularly the prominent use of percussion, creates a ritualistic energy that pulses through every movement, whether evoking rustic dance, courtly song, or bawdy revelry.
The work’s central sections are divided into three parts: Primo vere and Uf dem Anger evoke the renewal of spring and youthful vitality; In taberna paints a rowdy scene of tavern life, including the famous solo of a roasted swan; and Cour d’amours explores the delicate and ecstatic expressions of romantic desire. The cantata culminates in a reprise of the iconic “O Fortuna,” reinforcing the cyclical, inexplicable nature of fate.
Orff considered Carmina Burana the cornerstone of his artistic output, famously stating to his publisher after its completion, “Everything I have written to date… can be destroyed. With Carmina Burana, my collected works begin.” This declaration underscores the work’s significance in his oeuvre and its lasting impact on choral and orchestral repertoire.

Gustav Mahler’s Second Symphony is a monumental work that explores themes of life, death, and spiritual renewal. Composed between 1888 and 1894, it is one of his most dramatic and emotionally powerful symphonies. Spanning five movements, the piece begins with a funeral march and gradually ascends to a triumphant vision of resurrection and eternal life. Featuring large orchestral forces, vocal soloists, and a full chorus, the symphony culminates in a breathtaking finale that affirms hope and transcendence. It remains a cornerstone of the symphonic repertoire and a profound musical journey through the human experience.

New concert halls deserve new music, for they are both expressions of the spirit of their time. Often, and for a good reason, inaugural music is an overture, as in the two above-mentioned cases. In some other cases, e.g. if the house is not a concert hall or if something else, such as a festival, is being opened, it also can be a fanfare. Before Wing on Wing Salonen had composed one other inaugural piece that was a fanfare. He wrote it for the first Suvisoitto (Summer Sounds) festival in Porvoo, Finland, in 1986. In this two-and-a-half minute piece, scored for a small ensemble of woodwind and brass players, the contrabass clarinet had a prominent role. When I heard Wing on Wing for the first time, I had a déjà vu (or actually a déjà entendu) experience: there it is, in the first five bars of the piece already, murmuring together with cousin contrabassoon in the midst of lush string harmonies.

Wing on Wing is neither a fanfare nor an overture. It cannot be easily assigned to any other established category of orchestral music either. The instrumentation is very peculiar. Add two high sopranos void of text and some sampled speech to a large symphony orchestra and mix. Does it make a cantata? Not quite. But it evokes rich associations with earlier music by Debussy, Sibelius, Berio, Stockhausen, Saariaho, Lindberg, Salonen, and others, in which the human voice has been used in a variety of ways. A lot of other musical images cross the mind, too. Maritime associations, fauxbourdon technique, and some scales, such as the octatonic scale with alternating whole tones and semitones, strongly point towards the French connection (Debussy, Messiaen). Introducing Porichthys notatus (Plainfin Midshipman) in the 'Cadenza' adds a new paragraph, next to George Crumb's Vox Balaenae, to the fish chapter of zoomusicology. Long pedal points, violin tremolos, and sudden brass chords in the section immediately following the 'Cadenza' strongly evoke Sibelius, as do, on the other hand, the 'storm' sections. There are few pieces in recent orchestral music that conduct a dialog with the music of the 20th century on so many levels at the same time as Wing on Wing.

Formally, Wing on Wing is something that comes close to a symphonic fantasy. In his own program notes, Esa-Pekka Salonen dissects its form in ten sections. In a more synoptic view one could say that it consists of four movements: Introduction, Scherzo I, Slow movement with Cadenza, and Finale (Scherzo II) with Coda (Stretto).

For gorgeous melody, spellbinding coloratura, and virtuoso vocal fireworks, I Puritani has few equals. On New Year’s Eve, the curtain goes up on the first new Met production of Bellini’s final masterpiece in nearly 50 years—a striking staging by Charles Edwards, who makes his company directorial debut after many successes as a set designer. The Met has assembled a world-beating quartet of stars, conducted by Marco Armiliato, for the demanding principal roles. Soprano Lisette Oropesa and tenor Lawrence Brownlee are Elvira and Arturo, brought together by love and torn apart by the political rifts of the English Civil War, with baritone Artur Ruciński as Riccardo, betrothed to Elvira against her will, and bass-baritone Christian Van Horn as Elvira’s sympathetic uncle, Giorgio.

Since the iconic Philadelphia Orchestra recording led by Eugene Ormandy was released in 1962, these joyous concerts have become an annual tradition treasured by fans.

Summoned by Fate. Guided by Faith.

The Knights of the Holy Grail are in decline. Their ruler, Amfortas, is ailing from an unhealable wound. While the knight Gurnemanz wistfully recalls the prophecy of a guileless youth who will restore the order, he refuses to believe that the naive, young man before him could be that savior. And so the youth, Parsifal, leaves on what will become a journey that will bring him full circle back to the knights.

For the first time in 25 years, Wagner’s final opera returns in a brand-new San Francisco Opera production. Matthew Ozawa— whose work was last seen in the acclaimed Orpheus and Eurydice—directs this meditation on compassion, focusing on the intersection of Eastern and Western spiritual traditions in a mythical world of knights and sorcerers.

Music Director Eun Sun Kim continues her exploration of Wagner’s works through this sublime score, brought to life with a cast of Wagnerian superstars joined by the San Francisco Opera Orchestra, Chorus, and Dancers.