Here is entered the last remains
of Issac A. Spofford
son of Deacon Eleazar & Mrs. Mary Spofford,
a brand plucked from the ashes
of Rev. Laban Ainsworth’s house.
[…]

The music resonates with the mournful texts, acting as a gateway to another time and plane. But beyond setting colonial lamentations to music, The Old Burying Ground uses spoken poetry to create a programmatic exploration of graveyard verses’ underlying sentiments. The work begins with a poem accompanied by orchestra. It describes the The Old Burying Ground’s atmosphere and invites listeners to “take the chain from the gate” and “walk in.” Read by their authors, the poems reflect on the nature of life and death specific to the messages on old headstones. The poetry’s elaboration on these inscriptions creates cohesion within the cycle and allows the listener a wider window through which to peer at lives gone by. On “O Say Grim Death,” Poet Thomas Lynch writes:

No doubt the Reverend Ainsworth read from Job
Over the charred corpse of the deacon’s boy
To wit: “Blessed be the name of the Lord”
Or some such comfortless dose of holy writ
[…]

The soloists express The Old Burying Ground’s somber character with the same care and insight the orchestra maintains throughout the work. Folk singer Tim Eriksen brings a rustic sensitivity to his performance, and tenor Nicholas Phan demonstrates a keen responsiveness to both text and ensemble. Likewise, soprano Anne-Carolyn Bird brings depth to the text through masterful richness and control. Soloists and ensemble alike embrace the tranquil, mournful
context in a performance which details
this macabre exploration with poignant clarity.

On his encounters with gravestones, Chambers writes that they “are an opportunity to […] grow in understanding of one of the central truths of our lives: we die.” Likely founded in graveside contemplation, this perspective permeates the texts taken from the headstones of an Old Country cemetery, and it details not only the inherent brevity of the human condition but also the tragedy of short lives cut shorter.

The Old Burying Ground aspires to bring life to the dead and give a voice to words not uttered for centuries. The University of Michigan Symphony Orchestra and Kenneth Kiesler embrace this opportunity and create a recording rich with history and color through its mournful sentiments.

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Once, when Liszt was beginning a performance of the "Kreutzer" Sonata with the violinist Lambert Massart, listeners began calling out "Robert le Diable!"—meaning that they wished to hear instead Liszt’s fantasy on themes from the Meyerbeer opera.

Apparently, Liszt obliged. While perhaps not as raucous, a similar concert atmosphere was the trend at the time. But with the French Revolution came the decline of aristocracy and the rise of the Bourgeoise—a new middle class who wanted unique ways to feel elite. And so modern concert tradition was born. Ross argues that the public’s “elite” new concert etiquette combined with more daring performers gave way to the traditions which solidified into modern practice. He quotes pianists Liszt and Clara Wieck (who would later become Clara Schumann) as having “ventured” to play all the movements of the “Hammerklavier” and “Appassionata” Sonatas respectively. Two performances which provoked, he cites author Kenneth Hamilton as saying, “intense debate.”

As the mood of both audience and performer became more formal, it laid the cobble-stoned road for the works of composers like Debussy and Mahler, who were able to compose lengthier, more homogeneous works. By the turn of the 20th century, symphonies were being played in full by professional orchestras of unprecedented caliber. Of course, an organization could not program a single movement of a Mahler symphony, as it would sever the programmatic and emotional themes therein.

Ross also comments on the programming tendencies of today: a halved concert where the focal symphony or concerto occurs after an intermission preceded by a tone poem or overture. He claims this monotony is starting to crumble as new conductors mount podiums around the world, renewing audience vigor and interest in classical performances. His only remaining lament is that concerts today restrict rather than “unleash” the classics—that they might not sparkle quite as much as those of a bygone era.