SEATTLE — The Seattle Symphony pulled out all the proverbial stops for its Spring Welcome at Benaroya Hall. In the first program conducted by Xian Zhang since she was announced in September 2024 as music director (starting with the 2025-26 season), she led the orchestra in three performances of Billy Childs‘ Diaspora (Concerto for Saxophone and Orchestra) and Gustav Holst’s The Planets.
As much as Childs’ 20-minute concerto included glorious solos by Steven Banks, the superb saxophonist for whom it was composed, it was for the novelty of “seeing” Holst’s most famous work accompanied by high-definition imagery sourced from NASA that most audience members attended on March 27. Zhang seemed determined not to disappoint. Appearing to take as her motto, “If it’s a blockbuster they want, it’s a blockbuster they’ll get,” she threw all of the orchestra’s collective power and might into her Planets.
Entering to a loud burst of applause and cheers, which she graciously accepted with a huge smile, Zhang projected joy and confidence. To fascinating full-color projections of Mars up close and from afar, she brought an equal amount of orchestral color and impact. For percussive wallop and a full peacock display, her “Mars” rivaled the best recorded stereo and multi-channel recordings. A goodly number of audience members applauded after this and every subsequent movement.
“Venus,” by contrast, entered veiled in diaphanous clouds. Concertmaster Noah Geller’s solo personified beauty and sweetness, and the overall impression was one of loveliness. “Mercury” followed suit, with entrancingly bubbly winds and marvelous colors and textures.
As the orchestra traveled to “Jupiter,” however, it became clear that one of Zhang’s primary motivations was to dazzle. Rather than occasionally playing softly to make the most of dynamic contrasts, her focus seemed to be on loud, louder, louder still. Heard from an ideal distance, orchestra row K on the near edge of the side section, the bass foundation was all but drowned out by Zhang’s high-octane emphasis on brass, violins, and percussion.
As breathtaking as the effect was — creatively displayed visuals, sometimes projected in multiple strips that moved in opposite directions, only added to the music’s visceral impact — the knock-your-socks-off performance eventually became as wearing as trying to follow all of Saturn’s 274 moons simultaneously. Parts of the concluding “Neptune” movement sounded gorgeous. The upper voices of the Seattle Symphony Chorale, hidden backstage to enhance the sense of distance from earth, were excellent save for one misjudged break for breath, but the manner in which Zhang tapered off at the end was far too abrupt and disappointingly anti-climactic.
The three movements of Childs’ Diaspora are based on three poems: “Africa’s Lament” by Nayyirah Waheed, “If We Must Die” by Claude McKay, and “And Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou. The wordless music begins by depicting Africans’ journey from well-being and security in the motherland to enslavement, suffering, and rebellion in the “New World.” The last movement ends in a place of hope, self-worth, and determination.
Most significantly, Black empowerment is linked to the role of the church, with a most lovely, hymn-like melody (with its echoes of Copland) paving the way to a finale of resistance and victory. At times so literal as to border on the cartoonish — an enlightened team of animators could have a field day with the score — Diaspora succeeds in no small part thanks to the astonishing impact of Banks’ glowing musicianship and the affirmation of the work’s message.
