blue cathedral

American composer Jennifer Higdon was a classical music “late bloomer.” Born in Brooklyn and raised in Tennessee, her earliest musical influences came not from Mozart and Beethoven, but rather from the Beatles and bluegrass. She taught herself to play the flute at age 15, and played both flute and percussion in high school band. When she entered Bowling Green State University as a music major however, she quickly learned that she had had far less classical training than the average music student. Undeterred by the amount of catching up she had to do, Higdon persevered, eventually beginning to study composition at the age of 21. She went on to earn both a Master of Arts and a PhD in composition from the University of Pennsylvania, and an Artist’s Diploma from the prestigious Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. She has become one of America’s most frequently performed composers.

Higdon received the 2010 Pulitzer Prize in Music for her Violin Concerto, and has won three GRAMMY Awards for Best Contemporary Classical Composition - in 2010 for her Percussion Concerto, in 2018 for her Viola Concerto, and in 2020 for her Harp Concerto. She has received commissions from major symphony orchestras, including the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Cleveland Orchestra, the Chicago Symphony, the Atlanta Symphony, the National Symphony, the Minnesota Orchestra, the Pittsburgh Symphony, the Indianapolis Symphony, and the Dallas Symphony, and has composed two operas. More than 70 recordings have been made of her compositions.

Her most popular orchestral work is blue cathedral, composed in 2000 in memory of her brother. Since its premiere, blue cathedral has been performed by more than 400 orchestras worldwide. The composer has provided the following program notes:

“Blue…like the sky. Where all possibilities soar. Cathedrals…a place of thought, growth, spiritual expression…serving as a symbolic doorway in to and out of this world. Blue represents all potential and the progression of journeys. Cathedrals represent a place of beginnings, endings, solitude, fellowship, contemplation, knowledge, and growth. As I was writing this piece, I found myself imagining a journey through a glass cathedral in the sky. Because the walls would be transparent, I saw the image of clouds and blueness permeating from the outside of this church. In my mind's eye the listener would enter from the back of the sanctuary, floating along the corridor amongst giant crystal pillars, moving in a contemplative stance. The stained-glass windows' figures would start moving with song, singing a heavenly music. The listener would float down the aisle, slowly moving upward at first and then progressing at a quicker pace, rising towards an immense ceiling which would open to the sky…as this journey progressed, the speed of the traveler would increase, rushing forward and upward. I wanted to create the sensation of contemplation and quiet peace at the beginning, moving towards the feeling of celebration and ecstatic expansion of the soul, all the while singing along with that heavenly music.

These were my thoughts when The Curtis Institute of Music commissioned me to write a work to commemorate its 75th anniversary. Curtis is a house of knowledge--a place to reach towards that beautiful expression of the soul which comes through music. I began writing this piece at a unique juncture in my life and found myself pondering the question of what makes a life. The recent loss of my younger brother, Andrew Blue, made me reflect on the amazing journeys that we all make in our lives, crossing paths with so many individuals singularly and collectively, learning and growing each step of the way. This piece represents the expression of the individual and the group…our inner travels and the places our souls carry us, the lessons we learn, and the growth we experience. In tribute to my brother, I feature solos for the clarinet (the instrument he played) and the flute (the instrument I play). Because I am the older sibling, it is the flute that appears first in this dialog. At the end of the work, the two instruments continue their dialogue, but it is the flute that drops out and the clarinet that continues on in the upward progressing journey. This is a story that commemorates living and passing through places of knowledge and of sharing and of that song called life.

This work was commissioned and premiered in 2000 by The Curtis Institute of Music.”

—Jennifer Higdon