Overview
Introduction
Guan Xia’s epic Symphony No. 2 ‘Hope’ was composed in 1999 (his First Symphony having been written in the mid-1980s). Writing about his new work, Guan reflected upon the coexistence of agony and hope, good and evil, in mankind, and the importance of struggle and persistence to push mankind forward. ‘There would be no driving force in life without hope,’ he observed, ‘and it is hard to imagine what life would be like without it… I have written this Symphony for those who are sincerely in pursuit of their dreams.’
The Symphony consists of three movements, each with its own title. We begin with Expectation and Quest, the most expansive movement of the three. A lone trumpet announces the beginning of the piece, recalling decisive fanfare figurations, but woven into a musical line that carries with it a sense of uncertainty. The rest of the brass comes to join this opening declaration, before the music subsides into a gentle, sustained string texture and solo lines for various wind players. This slow music continues for some time, interrupted by another attempt on the part of the brass to assert a new direction before subsiding again into a softer sound world. The central section of the piece, an allegro, is given energy and impetus through an insistent snare drum rhythm—there is a sense of moving towards new horizons with a busier orchestral texture. Eventually we are returned to the sweeping musical landscape of the opening, with moments of almost chamber-like scoring as the mood becomes more contemplative. Although the movement ends with a sense of building energy and determination, its final chord does not fully resolve what has gone before. This is still only the beginning of the journey.
The decisive narrative of this opening movement is followed by Warmth, an adagio movement with a long-breathed, lyrical melody first presented in the strings, and then passed to other members of the orchestra as the music progresses, the accompanying forces offering variety and elaboration upon the main theme. Guan has explored the ‘warmest’ sounds of instrumental combinations here, not only through rich string writing, but by making use of horn solos above a wind and brass accompaniment, and the low and somewhat mournful tone of the cor anglais. A solo violin is used as a foil to these individual wind and brass players, the music building to full orchestra and dropping back into chamber textures, and coming to an end in peaceful repose.
Finally the third movement, The Light, is a passionate, energetic allegro. We begin once again with fanfares, but this time there is a sense of triumph and arrival—we have come a long way since the questing solo trumpet of the work’s opening. There is a great sense of space and landscape throughout the symphony, and here the swelling and falling shape of the movement, in which long melodic phrases seem to sweep over a swirling, energetic accompaniment, seems almost to conjure the power of the sea. The brass plays a prominent rôle throughout, and we reach the end of the Symphony in a blaze of glory, arriving in the home key at last. As Guan himself explains, ‘It is because of hope that the world becomes warm and humans become resilient.’ This was his vision of hope and the future, on the eve of the new millennium.
