On the afternoon of Nov. 17, I entered the historic Symphony Hall in Boston and immediately reveled in my rich visual surroundings. Symphony Hall is adorned with the inscription of Beethoven’s name high above the stage, three separate floors of seating, and sculptures of gods and goddesses that line the oval walls. Opened on Oct. 15, 1900, it has a rich history, with Harvard physics professor Wallace Clement Sabine even serving as an “acoustical consultant” to determine the precise measurements for the perfect sound—all before the hall even began construction. This performance was particularly special, as the Radcliffe Choral Society joined the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra.
At first sight, the packed hall’s expansiveness and allure were enough to stir my excitement. World-renowned conductor and founder of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra Benjamin Zander acknowledged the hall’s noteworthiness, exclaiming, “Thank goodness for this space. It’s incredible, and what a privilege it is to play here.” This remark was part of a pre-concert speech that Zander provided his audience with; an open-seated, free, and quite intimate conversation, in which he vividly prefaced each of the three pieces we would soon hear.
Zander’s storytelling foreshadowed the next two hours of auditory perfection. His conversation with us, which took place for roughly 45 minutes, was deeply personal; he shared anecdotes, tidbits of musical wisdom, and even riffed melodies on the piano he stood at. When detailing each piece and its relevant movements, he provided carefully chosen descriptions of the composition’s style and history alongside factoids about its composers and its political relevance. Such a speech was highly effective in harnessing the attention of the audience—the buy-in was palpable, with heavy, heartfelt laughter after all his jokes and respectful silences held for his personal quips.
The first two performances were Chacony in G. Minor by Henry Purcell, arranged by Benjamin Britten—a seven-minute, strings-only, gentle introduction into the Hall’s orchestral sound—and Concerto in E Minor for Cello and Orchestra, Op. 85, by Edward Elgar, featuring internationally recognized cello soloist Alexander Baillie. The third performance was English composer Gustav Holst’s infamous, seven-part work titled The Planets.
The Planets was personal to Zander: not only did he conduct Holst’s piece, but he also studied under Imogen Holst, Gustav Holst’s talented daughter. Beyond this legendary mentorship, Zander’s own impact in the field of classical music is innumerable. Beginning his career as a cellist and composer, he came to Boston in 1965, founded the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra in 1978, and then founded the Boston Philharmonic Youth Orchestra in 2012.
Gregory Vitale, the Philharmonic Orchestra’s concertmaster, has had “the experience of sitting in the hot seat,” working as close to Zander as physically possible through the integral role of concertmaster, he recalled in an interview with the Independent. Vitale outlined his responsibility as concertmaster, describing it as “a position that’s steeped in heavy tradition…the right-hand person, next to the conductor.” The concertmaster’s job, put simply, is to interpret what the conductor directs for the rest of the orchestra.
But Vitale’s experience working firsthand with Zander began much earlier than his position as the orchestral lead. He has had the unique perspective of knowing Zander from over four decades ago. “I’ve known Ben for most of my life because I played in his youth orchestra,” said Vitale, who was a student musician at the time. He mentioned that the Youth Philharmonic Orchestra “was called different names over time, and affiliated [then] with the New England Conservatory.”
Vitale, a member of several other prestigious orchestras, said that playing in the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra, specifically under the direction of Zander, is an extraordinary experience. Zander’s curation of the orchestra includes three groups of musicians: professional unionized players, talented conservatory or college students, and enthusiastic volunteers. Such a composition of musicians, beyond solely professionals, is unheard of in orchestras of this caliber; yet, it bodes for a strong orchestral loyalty, mentorship between more and less experienced players, and a “hybrid of musical abilities,” said Vitale.
Most unique of all, Zander’s leadership style is the cherry on top of his tight-knit orchestra. “We’re there because we want to make music with Ben. He’s incredibly inspirational, very sensitive, and he wants to govern through consensus,” described Vitale. Zander follows an interesting method of feedback collection, and from Vitale’s experience across orchestral groups, one unlike any other renowned conductor. “At every rehearsal, we have these blank sheets of paper—the ‘white sheets’—which are for anybody to write constructive comments or criticism,” he said. “He tries to open the music-making process to everyone’s ideas…he will reply or respond to everything.”
Zander’s incomparable expertise shone through in all three works of the afternoon, transporting eager listeners to another universe. He explained Holst’s interest in the planets as heavenly bodies, not so much as scientific phenomena. “He wasn’t interested in outer space. He was interested in inner space, with astrology,” described Zander. “He taught himself astrology and learned to love it.” Though Zander explained that parts of The Planets have been used to visually accompany various space-related cinematography, Holst was inspired by the archetypes of the planets, and Zander then categorized each one.
Mars was the first movement of the seven. Zander recounted a comical story when describing its dissonant, barbaric sound. When Holst first composed this movement, his landlady heard him playing the piece on his piano and told him it was horribly ugly. “Holst said, ‘War is also ugly. Ugly, and also grand,’” said Zander, describing that Holst then declared, “That is the way I hear it, and that is the way I must write it.”
Venus is harmony and artisticness; Mercury, the winged messenger; and then, the most prominent and celebrated movement, Jupiter. The swell of Jupiter’s central and infamous melody, when all the strings transition from a variety of twinklings and harmonies to one sudden, singular sound, was unifying for both the extraordinary players and the now restless audience. Two thousand breaths suddenly became one, syncing with the renowned, coalescent progression of Jupiter’s main refrain, swelling into finality.
“It represents nobility,” said Zander, regarding Jupiter. “The best that we expect from our leaders and politics, commanding a vast empire.” The loud finality that Jupiter ends with is ultimately illusory; it is immediately followed by the regretful, wisdom-filled Saturn, in all its adagio glory, inching its way forward.
Neptune, the ultimate movement, held a special place in the hearts of any Harvard affiliates in the crowd, as it was accompanied by the haunting, siren-like voices of the Radcliffe Choral Society. The Radcliffe Choral Society (RCS) is the soprano and alto chorus of the three Harvard Choruses, alongside the Harvard Glee Club, a tenor and bass chorus, and the Harvard-Radcliffe Collegium Musicum, a mixed voices chorus.
Linda Ye ’28, a member and acappella conductor for the RCS, spoke highly of the partnership between the RCS and the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra. “We’re always so excited for the performance opportunities,” said Ye. “The opportunity to be backstage at Boston Symphony Hall was such an incredible experience.”
Under new leadership this year, the RCS has had a full season of performances. In fact, it’s a choral group on campus that seems to have something for everyone involved—course credit, nonprofit organizational status, and student leadership through learning to manage an arts organization in collaboration with the boards of the other Harvard Choruses. Ye excitedly described her enjoyable experience as part of the organization thus far and its most salient qualities of community and inclusivity across a variety of vocal levels.
The Harvard Chorus brought us to Neptune, the final segment, where they unite with the orchestra in a powerful collaboration. Behind the closed doors of the third-floor balcony, they sang from an invisible nowhere, beckoning the audience to look beyond the visible universe. We craned our necks to hear their “exercise in pianissimo,” as Zander described it, and when we heard it, chills went down our spines.
The Planets was incontestably the highlight, or rather, the star, of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra and Radcliffe Choral Society show.
Gauri Sood ’26 (gaurisood@college.harvard.edu) can’t stop listening to The Planets while studying.
She urges you to attend an orchestral event in Boston—the Boston Ballet Orchestra at The Nutcracker is an upcoming holiday favorite.