Michael Daugherty (b. 1954)
Metropolis Symphony • Deus ex Machina
I began composing Metropolis Symphony in 1988,
inspired by the celebration in Cleveland of the fiftieth
anniversary of Superman’s first appearance in the
comics. When I completed the score in 1993, I
dedicated it to the conductor David Zinman, who had
encouraged me to compose the work, and to the
Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, who gave its world
première at Carnegie Hall in January 1994. Metropolis
Symphony evokes an American mythology that I
discovered as an avid reader of comic books in the
1950s and 1960s. Each movement of the symphony,
which may be performed separately, is a musical
response to the myth of Superman. I have used
Superman as a compositional metaphor in order to
create an independent musical world that appeals to the
imagination. The symphony is a rigorously structured,
non-programmatic work, expressing the energies,
ambiguities, paradoxes, and wit of American popular
culture.
I. Lex derives its title from one of Superman’s most
vexing foes, the super-villain Lex Luthor. Marked
“Diabolical” in the score, this movement features a
virtuoso violin soloist (Lex) who plays a fiendishly
difficult fast triplet motive in perpetual motion, pursued
by the orchestra and a percussion section that includes
four referee whistles placed quadraphonically on stage.
II. Krypton refers to the exploding planet from which
the infant Superman escaped. A dark, microtonal sound
world is created by glissandi in the strings, trombone,
and siren. Two percussionists play antiphonal fire bells
throughout the movement, as it evolves from a recurring
solo motive in the cellos into ominous calls from the
brass section. Gradually the movement builds toward an
apocalyptic conclusion.
III. MXYZPTLK is named after a mischievous imp from
the fifth dimension who regularly wreaks havoc in
Superman’s Metropolis. This brightly orchestrated
movement is the scherzo of the symphony, emphasizing
the upper register of the orchestra. It features two
dueling flute soloists who are positioned
stereophonically on either side of the conductor.
Rapidly descending and ascending flute runs are echoed
throughout the orchestra, while open-stringed pizzicato
patterns, moving strobe-like throughout the orchestra,
are precisely choreographed to create a spatial effect.
IV. Oh, Lois! invokes Lois Lane, news reporter at the
Daily Planet alongside Clark Kent (alias Superman).
Marked with the tempo “faster than a speeding bullet”,
this five-minute concerto for orchestra uses flexatone
and whip to provide a lively polyrhythmic counterpoint
that suggests a cartoon history of mishaps, screams,
dialogue, crashes, and disasters, all in rapid motion.
V. Red Cape Tango was composed after Superman’s
fight to the death with Doomsday, and is my final
musical work based on the Superman mythology. The
principal melody, first heard in the bassoon, is derived
from the Medieval Latin death chant Dies irae. This
dance of death is conceived as a tango, presented at
times like a concertino comprising string quintet,
bassoon, chimes, and castanets. The tango rhythm,
introduced by the castanets and heard later in the finger
cymbals, undergoes a gradual timbral transformation,
concluding dramatically with crash cymbals, brake
drum, and timpani. The orchestra alternates between
legato and staccato sections to suggest a musical
bullfight. Deus ex Machina (2007) for Piano and Orchestra was
commissioned by a consortium of the Charlotte,
Nashville, New Jersey, and Syracuse Symphony
Orchestras and Rochester Philharmonic. The title Deus
ex Machina refers to the Latin phrase, “god from the
machine”. Each of the three movements of the piano
concerto is a musical response to the world of trains.
I. Fast Forward (Di andata veloce)
The first movement departs from the Manifesto of
Futurism (1909), in which the Italian futurist F.T.
Marinetti declared that machine technologies would
propel the world toward a universal culture. The image
of a speeding locomotive became an icon in modernist
art of European painters in the early twentieth century.
Two important paintings I had in mind were “States of
Mind” (1911), the Cubist trilogy of a noisy and
dissonant train arriving and departing at a modern
railroad station, painted by the Italian Futurist Umberto
Boccioni, and “Time Transfixed” (1936), the strange
image of a steam locomotive emerging from a dining
room fireplace, painted by the Belgian Surrealist René
Magritte. I synthesize these various avant-garde
perspectives on trains in motion and commotion,
creating my own musical manifesto. Abstract musical
lines, mechanical velocities, contrary vectors,
polyrhythmic vibrations, and fragmented reverberations
all move “fast forward” to arrive at a modernist utopian
future.
II. Train of Tears
From April to May of 1865, a “lonesome train on a
lonesome track” with “seven coaches painted black”
carried the body of the assassinated American Civil War
President Abraham Lincoln from Washington, D.C. to
his home in Springfield, Illinois for burial. During the
1,650-mile journey through seven states, this slow-moving
funeral train passed through American cities
and towns where memorials were held for millions of mourners who lined the railroad tracks to give their final
farewell to “Abe” Lincoln. The second movement,
Train of Tears, is music for a slow-moving funeral train.
First we hear a “ghost” melody that I have composed,
performed con passione by the strings and accompanied
by a lonely bass drum. Metal wind chimes and bowed
suspended cymbal echo the piano soloist, who plays a
funeral dirge in a minor key. Over the dirge, a distant
trumpet and English horn play “Taps”. I incorporate
“Taps” (also known as “Gone to Sleep”) because this
simple but emotionally charged melody has been used
since the Civil War in America as a military bugle call,
sounded at soldiers’ funerals. During the journey of the
second movement, I intertwine the “ghost” melody and
“Taps” in various guises, counterpoints, transpositions,
and orchestrations.
III. Night Steam
By the 1950s, trains in America were powered by
electricity or diesel fuel. The only remaining coal-burning
steam locomotives were those of the Norfolk
and Western railroad line, operating in the states of
Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Maryland,
where coal was still plentiful. Aware of the impending
loss of these gigantic and beautiful steam locomotives,
the photographer O. Winston Link documented the last
days of the Norfolk and Western trains from 1955 to
1960 and the people who lived alongside them. Using
complex banks of flashbulbs and timers that he
invented, Link frequently photographed the trains in
action during the night, in black and white. Like O.
Winston Link’s photographs, I have composed music
that sonically captures the final journeys of trains from a
bygone era. In Night Steam, we hear majestic fire-eating
steam locomotives rumble and whistle their way
through the small towns and lonely back roads of the
Shenandoah Valley into extinction.
Michael Daugherty