Triathlon originated with a request from the eminent saxophonist Timothy McAllister for a new concerto. John Corigliano’s Third Symphony, titled Circus Maximus and scored for wind ensemble (2004), calls for a saxophone quartet, but Triathlon is his first major composition written for a solo saxophone as the protagonist. 

Admiration for McAllister’s “fantastic virtuosity and lyric beauty,” remarks Corigliano, led him to ask for “three feats of high athletic prowess,” each centered around a different member of the saxophone family: soprano, alto, and baritone, respectively. (He omitted tenor sax largely for reasons of practicability: because the baritone is so big, while the soprano and alto instruments can fit into a single case, McAllister would not have had the flexibility needed for touring if he had to travel with three large cases.) 

In Triathlon, virtuosity takes on multiple guises. One is the feat of breaking a perceived barrier—the soloist’s equivalent of the four-minute mile—which can lead to advances in compositional techniques. What was once “impossible” becomes a matter of course. Corigliano’s music publisher initially warned that the last movement of was “too high” for the baritone saxophone’s range, but McAllister reassured him that he could indeed perform as requested. 

Music that is primarily lyrical and slow calls for another kind of virtuosity: “the virtuosity of being able to hold a melodic line until you’re out of breath, as in Mozart’s writing for the clarinet.” This comes to the fore in the central movement (“Lines”). Virtuosity is not merely about playing fast, Corigliano says, “though there is plenty of that in the piece, and plenty of good humor, especially in the last movement.” 

IN THE COMPOSER'S WORDS

Corigliano has provided the following commentary:

“The virtuosic possibilities of the soprano sax—rivaling those of the clarinet—inspired a first movement entitled “Leaps” that is buoyant, acrobatic, and optimistic. An orchestral introduction of jumping woodwinds and a long-lined melody leads to the entrance of the soloist who, after a few virtuosic turns, sings the melody introduced by the orchestra. This melody utilizes the entire lyrical range of the soprano saxophone, and leads to a slower section that extends and develops the melody. But the joyous opening returns, and the movement ends as it began—with a leap.

[“Lines”] features the alto saxophone. Lines, in music, describe the horizontal motion of notes, or, as we know it, melody. And, indeed, this entire movement is totally melodic and serene. The only dynamic climax in it is one of intensity, but it, too, is composed of purely melodic material. 

I have always loved the sassy, gravelly sound of the baritone sax, so it had to lead the last movement of my concerto. “Licks” is a jazz term and means small improvisational moments in a piece. While this is not a jazz movement, the idea of small ornamental turns appealed to me, and provided me with the inspiration for the solo writing. 

The movement starts with an unaccompanied cadenza. In it, the soloist explores many of the remarkably unusual sounds that the saxophone family can produce. At the beginning, we hear soft key clicks, which are done without breathing into the instrument. This soon develops into a technique called ‘slap-tonguing,’ in which the performer literally slaps his tongue against the reed. It is a totally delightful and rude sound, and both these devices alternate in the body of the cadenza.

After the saxophone plays a giant harmonic glissando, the orchestra enters with a soaring dramatic theme totally at odds with the soloist’s strange sounds. The soloist then enters, playing material with slap-tongue technique, which the orchestra constantly interrupts. Finally, the soloist joins the orchestra in some highly ornamented licks, and the movement barrels forward. The soloist, playing in perpetual motion and in extreme registers, leads us to a central dialogue between him and the woodwinds. The dramatic material returns, building to a climax at which the soloist retrieves his soprano saxophone, and leads the orchestra to its spirited conclusion.”

In addition to solo saxophone (soprano, alto, and baritone in each of the three movements, respectively), scored for 2 flutes (2nd doubling piccolo), 2 oboes (2nd doubling English horn), 2 clarinets (2nd doubling bass clarinet), 2 bassoons (2nd doubling contrabassoon), 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, 3 percussionists, piano, harp, and strings

− Thomas May is the Nashville Symphony's program annotator.

Featured on Triathlon + Fountains and Pines of Rome — October 27 & 28, 2023.

Nashville Symphony
Giancarlo Guerrero, conductor 
Timothy McAllister, saxophone

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