Circus Suite ('7)

The first movement (Monkey) begins with an unassuming introduction before the ensemble barrels into the Allegretto tempo that governs most of the remaining bars. As the group executes descending chromatic triads one easily gets a sense of the creature scurrying down various apparatuses. As they lunge forward with extreme crescendos, so too does the primate bound into action. The middle section oozes with mischievousness. Clearly this monkey is not a simple organ grinder’s companion. One final set of scampering figures concludes the movement.

Uhm paints another vivid picture with the succeeding movement (Clown). Half-step dissonances and off-beat accents abound as the obvious absurdities of the character are depicted. By bar eighteen one wonders if a “sad clown” has made its way to center stage. Glassy-sounding ponticello in the violin and a plethora of minor triads—many dressed up with grace notes—color the section. Col legno battuto and snap pizzicato are among the percussive devices employed by the composer here. A mini cadenza for the cello temporarily halts the action before a short, but eventful, coda ushers the troupe quickly off stage.

Most of us will never know what it would have felt like to have been one of the Flying Wallendas. Uhm gives us a sense of what it’s like to watch such an event, though, in this effective third movement (Trapeze). It is disconcerting to see the flyers and catchers swing at different speeds, I think. The composer represents this tension and lack-of-togetherness by spreading complicated polyrhythms—three-against-four, four-against-five, etc.—around the ensemble all the while alternating time signatures from bar to bar. When the players do meet it is as unexpected as when the two, off-set human pendulums safely grasp wrists high within the Big Top. It’s an imperfect world, of course, and by bar 22 we hear at least one flyer fall to the safety net; perhaps another one hurtles towards the ground five bars later too. The conclusion is sheepish at best. Perhaps a slightly embarrassed celebration of survival is all that they can muster.