Tulsa Symphony Orchestra: Brahms and Kodaly
Tulsa Performing Arts Center
January 10, 2026
Last Saturday’s Tulsa Symphony Orchestra concert, its first of the new year, featured two works by my favorite composer, Johannes Brahms: his Variations on a Theme by Haydn and his second symphony. Before the show, I gave my date, Mr. Tulsa, a brief on these major-league pieces in the classical canon—how ingeniously Brahms treats the theme and variation form by maintaining the harmonic and structural guardrails and concealing the melody among twisting counterpoint, and how his second symphony follows the classical form to a T, with complex romantic harmonies and dense orchestration.
I didn’t school him on the program’s other piece, Dances of Galánta by Zoltán Kodaly, because to be honest I do not care about Kodaly. This piece was the filler, I assured Mr. Tulsa. If classical music were Thanksgiving dinner, Kodaly would be green bean casserole, at most. Maybe a pickle tray. A tasty yet nutritionally useless side dish. Not to say Kodaly isn’t important. He is, but more as a pedagogue, ethnomusicologist, and theoretician than a composer. You study Kodaly, you don’t listen to him.
As the night began, TSO’s ebullient guest conductor, Brett Mitchell, bounded onstage and swept me away with the Haydn Variations as I’d hoped, incidentally fulfilling all my promises to Mr. Tulsa. I was transported by the woody textures of the opening theme, the orchestra’s perfect tempos and flawless execution. The variations led me through a whole landscape of emotions. The horn solos were lovely, and the piccolo that came in near the end was a drop of mercury on top of that moody texture that tugged at my heartstrings, something piccolos rarely do.
But Mr. Tulsa’s eyelids fluttered. He’s concentrating, I thought.
After the applause, Maestro Mitchell really built up the Kodaly. You’re gonna love it, he promised. And while I might not have been converted into a Kodaly fan on Saturday night, TSO performed these dances with virtuoso flair, highlighted by David Carter’s divine clarinet solos, Rebecca Lorenz’s perfectly executed horn solos, and John Rush’s angelic flute. The string section absolutely tore it up as the piece neared the end, casting visions of Hungarians doing some kind of squatty-leg high kicks. It was the best green bean casserole I ever had.
When the piece ended, all my musical bravado evaporated because the audience ate it up. They clapped and hollered, they whistled and hooted, in true Okie style. Mr. Tulsa pounded his hands together, eyes shining.
“That was great,” he enthused at intermission. “So much better than the Brahms.”
“You didn’t like the Brahms?” I asked, shaken.
“It was okay. Just sounded like Brahms had ADHD and couldn’t decide on a theme. But that Kodaly rocked!”
Apparently, Kodaly spoke to my fellow Tulsans. To each their own.
Hearing the final piece of the evening, Brahms’ Symphony No. 2, was like seeing an old friend. Maestro Mitchell and TSO worked as one to deliver a strong, moving rendition of this great work.
Brahms loved the middle voices of the orchestra, often giving the horns and violas substantial parts. I’d like to give a shout out to the often unsung viola section: My friends, I see you. The way you added depth to the violins when you doubled their melodies, and brightness to the cellos when you doubled theirs, made my heart sing. Trumpets, too: those high, shining bits near the end of the fourth movement made my life flash before my eyes in a good way.
I’ve loved this piece for 40 years. It’s part of my lore, my life’s arc. Mr. Tulsa and I agreed that this symphony was the epitome of what a symphony should be: a classic orchestral sound, a variety of moods, a rousing conclusion.
After intermission, TSO thanked Ron Predl, its outgoing executive director, for his years of service. I was especially touched by his response—that he has been privileged to do what he loves for his profession, for his whole life. That’s a blessing for those of us in his community who have been graced by his work.
I’d also like to commend the TSO audiences, who have apparently been reading my reviews and listening to my nagging. You clapped at all the right times! You waited in breathless silence between movements and cut loose with enthusiasm when the pieces concluded! Kudos, Tulsa.
