Frank LaRocca

Program Note for Crossing the Rubicon (1992/94)
for orchestra


When Aaron Copland took stock of the changes in the musical landscape of the late 1930's wrought by the spread of the radio and phonograph, and made his decision to "see if I couldn't say what I wanted to say in the simplest possible terms" (subsequently earning universal public acclaim and a Pulitzer Prize for Appalachian Spring), he could not have known that he was, at the same time, earning himself the scorn of the coming generation of post-war, university-trained composers in the United States.

With his populist orientation and clearly stated intent to reach out to the broadest possible audience, he could not have known that he would be violating the prime directive of mid-century musical aesthetics: Copland's disarmingly honest statement would be held up as evidence that he had "sold out". This post-war generation, led by such figures as Boulez and Babbitt was, after all, the one that made 'popular' the opposite of 'serious' in music, as if popular appeal and intellectual and structural interest had suddenly become incompatible qualities.

For nearly three decades this assumption went unchallenged in the conservatories and music departments where recent generations of composers, including myself, have sought their training. And I, too, unwilling to suffer the disdain of my teachers or the smirks of my peers, convinced myself of this axiom.

About six years ago I reached a point where my creative impulse ceased to be stimulated by the predominantly atonal, ametrical language I had developed in response to the unsubtle pressures of my student days to conform to my teachers' ideas of style. Torn between what was "acceptable" and my growing conviction that this approach was, at least for me, a creative dead end, I stopped composing for two years. During this time, I began to search through my early musical experiences and influences ­ an eclectic melange of classical, jazz and rock n'roll ­ in an attempt to rediscover the magic and mystery of music that inspired me to become a composer in the first place. Crossing the Rubicon is the fruit of this effort. In choosing this title, I refer not to Caesar's historic crossing into Italy to wage civil war with the forces in Pompeii, but to its more popular connotation: "to start on a course of action from which there is no turning back, to take a final, irrevocable step."

Crossing the Rubicon was premiered in April of 1994 by the California Symphony, Barry Jekowsy conducting.