Written for the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra. Not to be reprinted without permission.
In August 1957, when Leonard Bernstein signed a contract to become the next conductor of the New York Philharmonic, he was also preparing to open West Side Story. Writing his wife, Felicia, who was in Chile, he reported: “I signed the Philharmonic contract.… Big moment.… Other events—nothing but the show. We ran through today for the first time, and the problems are many, varied, overwhelming; but we’ve got a show there, and just possibly a great one.”
Three-and-a-half years later, in February 1961, the Philharmonic premiered Symphonic Dances from West Side Story on a gala concert called “A Valentine for Leonard Bernstein,” celebrating the extension of his contract with the orchestra. In between, the musical had run 732 performances on Broadway, toured the United States, returned to New York for another 249 performances, had an Original Broadway Cast album released, and begun development into a film. Bernstein, meanwhile, had been promoted from the Philharmonic’s joint principal conductor (alongside outgoing maestro Dimitri Mitropoulos) to its full-fledged music director, and become a television star through the Philharmonic’s Young People’s Concerts.
This was the peak Bernstein era, which began with his November 1943 podium debut with the Philharmonic, stepping in to replace Bruno Walter. As a composer, Bernstein had already created the ballet Fancy Free with choreographer Jerome Robbins, elaborated it into the musical On the Town, written the opera Trouble in Tahiti, scored the Marlon Brando picture On the Waterfront, and begun the operetta Candide. The idea for West Side Story—a musical update of Romeo and Juliet set among New York City gangs—had been simmering for most of a decade, with the concept and choreography by Robbins and a book by Arthur Laurents. Finally, the last piece fell in place when Stephen Sondheim joined as lyricist.
At the 1961 Philharmonic gala, probably the entire Carnegie Hall audience had seen West Side Story, owned the record, and could hum its tunes, from “Jet Song” to “A Boy Like That.” But Bernstein, working with orchestrators Sid Ramin and Irwin Kostal, wanted to do more than a medley of hits for this special concert. Instead, they took dance numbers and just a few lyrical snippets, reordering them “according to alternating high and low levels of emotional intensities,” as Bernstein’s assistant, Jack Gottlieb, observed. The result is seamless—like a blurry memory of the musical.
In his program note for the premiere, later reprinted as a preface to the published score, Gottlieb wrote: “Why are these [dances] called symphonic? Simply because the dance music, even in its original format, is symphonically conceived … This is music on its own terms, music that does not have to depend upon presupposed knowledge of the unfolding events.” He did, however, go on to describe the plot correspondences for those who wanted to know.
The Prologue (Allegro moderato) establishes a recurring interval—the dissonant tritone—which can signal instability and danger, but also yearning (as in “Maria”). In Gottlieb’s description, the introduction shows “the growing rivalry between two teenage street gangs, the Jets and Sharks,” ending with a police whistle.
“Somewhere” (Adagio), with lyrical strings accompanied by lilting harp and piano, is “a visionary dance sequence, [where] the two gangs are united in friendship.” The Scherzo (Vivace e leggiero) turns folksy with pizzicato strings and chirping woodwinds—“In the same dream, they break through the city walls and suddenly find themselves in a world of space, air, and sun.”
The dream is interrupted by drums… brass… and Mambo! “Reality again; competitive dance between the gangs.” The Cha-cha (Andantino con grazia) is lighter and coy, as “the star-crossed lovers see each other for the first time and dance together.” Sugary violins, celesta, and vibraphone score the alluring Meeting Scene (Meno mosso) between Tony and Maria.
The Cool Fugue (Allegretto) swings into a pile-on as “the Jets practice controlling their hostility”—with little success. The Rumble (Molto allegro) is fueled by a propulsive piano riff and squawking brass that all breaks down in a “climactic gang battle during which the two gang leaders are killed.” A mournful flute cadenza surveys the carnage, leading to the Finale (Adagio)—“Love music developing into a procession, which recalls, in tragic reality, the vision of ‘Somewhere.’”
