Nothing like a summer symphony on a volcano in 90-degree weather with a forest fire thrown in as a reminder that life in the Far West can be full of wonder and surprises. I drove up to Crater Lake National Park last weekend with a couple friends to Southern Oregon’s Britt Orchestra live concert at the crater. The orchestra performed six concerts in two days with the world premiere of “Natural History,” composed in honor of the National Parks Service Centennial Celebration.
The 100-person ensemble was lead by Britt Orchestra Music Director Teddy Abrams and included a symphony, a choir, brass and percussion students from Southern Oregon University along with local Klamath Native American drummers and singers. The musicians all joined to perform the latest classical composition by Michael Gordon, a noted avant-garde composer from New York City. In writing Natural History, Gordon spent weeks at Crater Lake to immerse himself in the region’s grand landscapes and reflective views across the two thousand-foot deep lake in its crater, the deepest lake in the United States.
The music was mesmerizing and very unlike any symphony I’ve heard. The orchestra was distributed through the crowd and played in syncopated and echoing phrases that cascaded between players and listeners, creating an almost surround sound effect. Shimmering soundscapes were past between players, the native voices blended with the choir, at times almost like the wind or some river running its course. At the core of the performance was the Britt Orchestra, the choir and native drum circle. Farther out in the peripheries were brass sections and percussionist ensembles.
After the concert we walked along the edge of the crater, took a few photos and had lunch in an old-growth forest on the south rim. Reflecting its own natural history, Crater Lake was formed by a massive explosion of Mt. Mazama, around 5000 years BC. The previously massive mountain fell in on itself spewing its content as far as Wyoming, leaving a deep hollow caldron at its center. Centuries of rain and snow melt have filled the lake as it is today.
There is something timeless about combining the great outdoors and geologic natural history with music, friends and food. As we drove around the crater, we saw national park rangers gathering on the western slope, observing a forest fire that was expanding rapidly, moving up toward the crater. Helicopters and air tankers were starting to drop water on the blaze, which worked its way up the volcanic slope and by Monday had ignited trees inside the caldera. For us, it was a dramatic, beautiful and eventful day. But for the remnants of Mt. Mazama, it was just a quiet day in the life of a dormant volcano.