Heather Phillips, last year's Southeastern winner. (Photo courtesy HeatherPhillips-soprano.com)

Lawson Anderson is a 25-year-old management consultant at PricewaterhouseCoopers. That’s his day job; on weekends he sings opera arias.

As a high school athlete at the Westminster Schools in Atlanta, Anderson joined the school choir, where Scott Morris, then director of choral music, encouraged him to think more seriously about singing. “My mentors helped me to understand that there’s something special about singing, and I began to think more critically about how music affects the audience,” he says.

So he decided to double-major in music and economics at the University of Virginia and participated in the student-run opera company, singing lead roles in productions of “Die Fledermaus,” “Don Giovanni” and “Orpheus in the Underworld.”

Lawson Anderson

These days Anderson travels for PwC from Monday through Friday and, while he’s on the road, finds time to practice after hours in his hotel room, despite occasional noise complaints. On weekends he takes voice lessons with Bradley Howard, visiting director of vocal studies at Emory University.

It’s Anderson’s sports background, as a baseball player and wrestler, that gives him the discipline to study singing seriously, he says. “The same principles apply. If you don’t run every day, you’re not going to stay in shape.”

Anderson, a lyric baritone, in January entered the first opera competition of his life — the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions for the state of Georgia — and won. The Met auditions are designed to discover exceptional young talents across the United States and to assist in development of those with the greatest potential.

Anderson returned to the competition Sunday as Clayton State University’s Spivey Hall showcased 12 finalists from the Southeast. Those winners were selected from among 150 competitors in Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Florida.

High-profile opera professionals George Darden, Gianna Rolandi and Brad Woolbright judged the contest. Each singer brought five well-practiced arias and had the opportunity to sing two selections, the first of his or her choosing and the second picked by the panel of judges.

Anderson — one of only two baritones in a sea of sopranos — offered “Hai già vinta la causa” from Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro.” Predictably, the judges couldn’t resist asking for the one Wagner aria on Anderson’s list, the haunting “O du mein holder Abendstern” (“Hymn to the Evening Star”), Wolfram’s aria from Act III of “Tannhäuser.” It consists of an extended recitative and a sustained air. It’s difficult to execute, but also a popular aria that highlighted Anderson’s beautiful timbre and commendable sostenuto singing.

As the judges deliberated, Heather Phillips, winner of the 2010 Southeastern competition, gave a mini-recital.

First prize went to lyric soprano Samantha Barnes, 29, of Florida, who brought the audience nearly to tears with her rendition of Rusalka’s “Song to the Moon.” As a regional finalist, she will join 13 other soloists from across the country to vie for a $15,000 grand prize.

Second place went to baritone Kenneth Stavert and third place to soprano Emily Duncan-Brown. The judges honored tenor David Blalock, lyric coloratura Sidney Mancasola and lyric soprano Melinda Whittington with $500 “encouragement awards” for their performances.

In a few short weeks, Samantha Barnes will be standing at the semi-finals on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. And when Monday morning comes, Lawson Anderson will most likely be back on a plane, opera scores packed in his bag, off to visit one of his PwC clients. But that is work that he says complements his passion for music. “I don’t ever want music to feel like a day job,” he says. “For me, it’s an escape.”

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra violinist Juan Ramírez (Photos by Nick Arroyo)

The musical journey of Juan Ramírez began in Mexico. He arrived in Atlanta in 1974 to join the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra as a violinist, and in the years since his reputation as a champion of the city’s Hispanic community and its cultural heritage has grown to large proportions. A versatile musician, he also plays guitar and marimba, is a conductor of several local orchestras and is an active composer.

Ramírez’ latest composition, a string trio called “Targetas Latinas (Latin American Post Cards),” will premiere this Sunday at 3 p.m. in a performance by violinist Olga Shpitko, violist Yang-Yoon Kim and cellist Jennifer Humphreys. The concert is part of the “Music on the Hill” series, held regularly in the chapel of Northside Drive Baptist Church. Beethoven’s String Trio No. 5 in C minor (Opus 9, No. 3) and Ernst von Dohnanyi’s Serenade in C major for String Trio are also on the program.

“Targetas Latinas” was originally commissioned for the 2011 season by the Leaf Peepers Chamber Series in Chatham, N.Y. The music director there, violinist Sanford Allen, is a friend of Ramírez’s.

“Two years ago I started writing some sketches,” Ramírez says. “A few months later I heard from Sanford that their board of directors had surprised him for [his 15th anniversary as music director] with a new commissioned trio composed by Tania Leon. Sanford asked me if I can wait to finish the trio for 2012.”

In the meantime, Ramírez had mentioned the work-in-progress to fellow Atlanta Symphony violinist Shpitko, who asked whether her own trio could play it at one of their concerts in Atlanta. “I said yes. So I finished the first movement and then the second movement.”

Juan Ramírez

“All three of us have a long history of collaborating with Juan on our own,” Shpitko says of her trio. “Besides playing with Juan in the ASO, we all were involved in a number of chamber projects featuring his pieces.”

Ramírez worked things out with his friend in New York to add two more movements to the trio and extend it to almost 20 minutes for the full premiere later this year with the Leaf Peepers series.

Like much of Ramírez’ music, the two movements being performed Sunday — “Danzas (Dances)” and “Canción de Cuna (Song of Cradle)” — reflect his Hispanic heritage. But, “although deeply rooted in the everyday music of Juan’s childhood, ['Targetas Latinas'] is still unmistakably modern, with lots of brain and soul teasers added by the composer, which will keep every member of the audience engaged,” Shpitko says.

As for engaging the local Latino community, one of Ramírez’ new educational projects is the Casa de la Cultura-Atlanta (Institute of Culture), launched last year. In residence at Peachtree Presbyterian Church in Buckhead, the institute works to interest the Latino community in music. “We give music classes to many Mexican and Latino children who have never played an instrument or are not familiar with their cultural legacy,” Ramírez explains. “We did our first performance at the [Atlanta] History Center, and now we are enrolling many children in choir, instrumental discipline and folk dance from Mexico.”

He also had several meetings with ASO administrators before the 2011-12 season to try to find ways for the orchestra to reach out to the Latino community. As a result, he formed an ensemble for that purpose. Since its debut in the Fox Theatre’s Egyptian Ballroom on September 16 to celebrate Mexican Independence Day, the group has performed four times, in concerts that included Ramírez’s own compositions and arrangements of traditional Latin music. Its next concert will be intended for children; the venue and date are expected to be announced within the week.

The musicians rehearse for Sunday's performance. (Photo by Mark Gresham)

In the beginning was the Sound. The big bang. From that event more than 13 billion years ago, science tells us, the universe rapidly expanded and cooled enough that its white noise of energy could change into subatomic particles. Those particles later joined to form atoms, and those atoms combined to form molecules, eventually leading to the emergence of life. Biochemists are researching what harmonious chemical conditions might have led to the emergence of life.

Science isn’t the only field to speculate about the origins of the universe and of life. Explorations of the relationship of music to the fundamental nature of the cosmos go far back in history, from the teachings of Pythagoras and the ancient Chinese “yellow bell,” which served as a foundation of not just music but of all physical measurements, to the medieval European concept of musica universalis, the “music of the spheres.” The poet John Dryden wrote in 1687:

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,

This universal frame began:

When nature underneath a heap

Of jarring atoms lay,

And could not heave her head,

The tuneful voice was heard from high,

“Arise, ye more than dead.”

Not entirely unlike the aftermath of the big bang, from an artistic perspective.

Dwight Andrews

These origins of life and music were thematically tackled Sunday afternoon in a concert at Emory University’s Schwartz Center, presented jointly by the Emory Chamber Music Society of Atlanta and the university’s Center for Chemical Evolution. A dialogue between David Lynn, Emory professor of biomolecular chemistry, and Dwight Andrews, associate professor of music theory and African-American music, formed the first half of the program.

Each acknowledged to me afterward that the subject is much too broad and complex to have covered adequately in the short available time. But from their dialogue, I derived the non-technical gist of the analogy they were trying draw.

First, a community of chemicals, whether in a pond of primordial slime or a laboratory flask, requires sufficient diversity in its makeup for its elemental molecules to combine de novo into more complex, lifelike forms, and enough stability to sustain them. Some lifelike biochemical forms survive; some don’t. But research has led to the realization that in the right chemical environment, complex biochemical structures seem remarkably, almost magically, to self-assemble.

David Lynn

Second, a community of humans requires sufficient cultural context for elemental sounds to evolve de novo into a musical idiom, and enough cultural stability to sustain it over time. Cultural differences produce different idioms from similar musical materials. Cultural changes, including exposure to a diversity of other cultures, can transform a complex musical syntax and evolve it in remarkable ways.

After intermission, the musical part of the program began with an Adagio and Fugue by J.S. Bach, from his Sonata in C Major for solo violin, performed by Domenec Salerni of the Vega String Quartet, Emory’s professional string quartet in residence. Programmed as an allegory of evolution, the Adagio opens with a patient layering of notes leading up to the complex fugue with a subject based on the chorale “Komm, heiliger Geist, Herre Gott.” Salerni brought a noble approach to the piece, but he appeared at the end to have expected more from himself.

The entire Vega Quartet followed with the dense and emotionally heated String Quartet No. 3 by Béla Bartók, the most tightly constructed of Bartók’s six quartets. The Vegas played it with vigorous enthusiasm.

But the best illustration of the opening dialogue’s analogy was the concluding piece, Darius Milhaud’s “The Creation of the World.” Completed in 1923, it was written for a 20-minute ballet based on African folk creation mythology, at a time when things African and Afro-American were all the rage in Paris. It was the 30-year-old Milhaud’s first attempt to incorporate American jazz into his modern French aesthetic. Eighteen professional musicians, gathered by the Emory Chamber Music Society for the performance, were led by Emory’s orchestral director, Richard Prior. Though not a perfect performance, Milhaud’s energetic score, with its jazzy rhythms and bluesy colors, closed the concert with a wallop of fun.

Donald Runnicles conducts the “Resurrection” Symphony by Gustav Mahler, a composer performed much too seldom by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. (Photos by J.D. Scott)

Gustav Mahler made one of his rare appearances at the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra on Thursday, when the orchestra performed his Symphony No. 2 in C minor (the “Resurrection” Symphony).

The program, and its repeat performance Saturday, had been planned as a sort of farewell for Donald Runnicles, who was scheduled to leave his position as the ASO’s principal guest conductor. But last week the symphony renewed his contract, so there was more “resurrection” going on than originally contemplated.

Strangely enough, that jibes with Runnicles’ interpretation of the piece. This is, very specifically, a work about death, a subject about which Mahler was quite conflicted. An agnostic whose background was Jewish, he converted to Catholicism, but this apparently was done in an attempt to avoid anti-Semitic prejudice.

Death looms over much of Mahler’s work, and the mood can get quite dark. The “Resurrection” offers opportunities for this, but Runnicles’ approach to it is almost Brucknerian. Anton Bruckner, whose works are often compared with Mahler’s, was a devout Catholic, and his symphonies reflect an optimism and confidence that eluded Mahler. Mahler was neurotic and obsessed with death.

To some extent, his symphonies, and especially this one, work only when a conductor has found a formula for getting the audience inside Mahler’s morbid head. Runnicles’ approach to the first few movements is self-consciously restrained and subtle. He offers introspection rather than craziness. It might not be the most obvious way to get Mahler across, but it provides considerable illumination along the way.

The massive opening movement is subtitled “Totenfeier” (“Funeral Rites”). Gentle beginnings soon give way to violent outbursts, and Mahler’s instructions were that they were to be played “with ferocity.” It’s not as though Runnicles ignored those instructions, but it must be said that he held back a considerable amount of the power at his disposal in the immense orchestra specified by Mahler.

Throughout the work, these dark forces alternate with sounds of the most profound sweetness, and it is on the latter that Runnicles places his emphasis. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more refined string tone from the ASO. Runnicles’ light texture created a palpable sense of optimism that seemed to win out over the darker assaults, subdued in volume yet given a sort of power by the conductor’s usual emphasis on the lower strings. His pace was sometimes brisk, and even his slow passages were quicker than is perhaps standard, but he made them feel correct and inevitable. The orchestra negotiated the movement’s rapid-fire switchbacks with dispatch.

The genteel approach proceeded through the nostalgic second and third movements, which can be viewed as a look back at the life of the deceased, complete with dancing. What was impressive here was the unflagging focus of conductor and orchestra; every moment of the score was lucid, the sections well defined, and the playing virtuosic.

The fourth movement is where things change. The whole focus here is on death, and looking back becomes an obsession with heaven and eternity. And the music changes from a purely orchestral score to a sung text, with an alto soloist. We got Kelley O’Connor, who possesses a supple, dark-hued voice and an ability to telegraph feelings directly to the listener’s soul. Mahler wrote into the score a five-minute pause between the third and fourth movements, and although Runnicles didn’t go quite that far, he did stop for a bit of reflection.

Nicole Cabell (left) and Kelley O'Connor of the ASO Chorus.

The last of the five movements is where the “resurrection” takes place, abetted by the main orchestra, an offstage ensemble, a chorus, the alto and a soprano. The ASO Chorus was at its best here, whisper-quiet at first, then negotiating every passage with wondrous finesse. Rarely will one hear lower basses singing with such a clean, clear line. Judgment day is portrayed with a massive outburst, and here Runnicles finally unleashed his forces, their power made vivid by the previous restraint. The soprano was Nicole Cabell, and her voice soared effectively over the armies massed behind her.

Runnicles seems clearly able to transport us to judgment day and the resurrection. Whether his approach to the rest of the work is too simplistic, avoiding the conflicts inherent in Mahler and shunning the power of the composer’s darker side, is a question that the listener must answer for himself. Runnicles’ is an intelligent, forceful reading, but a measured and introspective one. With Leonard Bernstein, the great champion of Mahler and especially of this symphony, one left the concert hall drained of emotion and headed to the nearest bar for a drink. With Runnicles, the aftermath is more likely to be a cup of tea.

It must be said that the world of Mahler and Bruckner is one that the ASO visits much too rarely. The Second is perhaps the greatest of Mahler’s 10 symphonies, and it is the one most performed here. One reason is that, like the Eighth (another candidate for greatness), it uses a large chorus, which is the ASO’s great strength. But there is reason to perform the others. They are among the great tests of an orchestra’s mettle. And they are arguably the pinnacle of the entire orchestral repertoire in terms of intellectual heft.

Robert Spano, the ASO’s music director, seems interested in other things, especially modern works, which are a worthy enterprise. Then there are the warhorses, some of which seem to pop up virtually every season, which is a bit patronizing. A vast amount of the ASO’s energy is devoted to pop music, movie scores and the like. These are pleasant enough, but hardly challenging for orchestra or audience.

The people who decide such things have decided that this is what Atlanta wants, and it’s probably futile to argue for change on a major scale. But it would be nice if we could get a Mahler cycle someday, or even just a mini-cycle of a few symphonies. Runnicles brings much to Atlanta in his role as principal guest conductor, and one overlooked aspect is his championing of just this sort of material. Here’s to his success.

Susan Graham in Salzburg, Austria.

In the American song recital tradition, a singer will typically begin with music from the 17th or 18th century and proceed chronologically, in order to warm up her audience’s ears. Graham whet our appetites with an aperitif of Purcell, singing his scena “The Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation,” which reveals Mary’s thoughts when Jesus has gone missing during the holy family’s pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Graham’s declamatory and full-voiced depiction of Mary’s remembrances — a wondrous birth and the ensuing flight to Egypt — was rousing in conjunction with the easy fioratura that followed.

Graham’s style in recital is refined and pure, which made the opening scena very fitting. Dressed in a stunning white gown, our hostess was unpretentious and gracious, essentially allowing herself to be a vessel from which flowed German lieder and French mélodies. And while many opera singers will indulge their audiences with operatic fare, Graham and Martineau instead offered an extended song by Berlioz, “La Mort d’Ophélie,” and a thoughtful song group based on Goethe’s tale “Wilhelm Meister.” We heard six songs by various composers — Schubert, Schumann, Liszt, Tchaikovsky, Duparc and Wolf — that portrayed the laments of the Gypsy girl called Mignon.

The singer incorporated tasteful ornamentation within the young Schubert’s “Heiss mich nicht reden” and infused heartfelt conviction into Schumann’s “So lasst mich scheinen, bis ich werde,” a song often criticized for its halting melody and interruptive piano interludes. Perhaps Goethe interceded to show his disapproval of Schumann’s text setting, for the hall went completely dark after the last note of the song. (Later the power outage was blamed on the Sturm und Drang outside.)

The song recital is an art, and Graham proved that she has mastered it, defying cultural tell-all trends and denying the audience witty interjections between song groups. She merely sang, with a vibrant and sumptuous timbre that seems to come naturally. Even within the stunning “Lady Macbeth” by contemporary composer Joseph Horowitz, she sang through clenched teeth and spat out the wordy text, “Infirm of purpose … give me the daggers!” She held nothing back vocally or dramatically.

Yet, as musical styles progress, audiences hope for a more personal connection with artists, and Graham remained modest. Her performance was a paradox in that way … until dessert.

Fancy French desserts are indulgent and rich, as was her rendition of Poulenc’s “Fiançailles pour rire.” Here we were at last (a nod to Etta James) granted access to Graham herself, and it was evident that every sigh, every portamento that she offered was for our delight. “Il vole” was positively operatic.

In 1997, I saw Graham sing in Tim Abery’s Munich production of “Ariadne auf Naxos”; she sang the aria precariously hanging off of a ladder, holding on with one hand. To my mind, her Poulenc at Spivey Hall was the emotional equivalent of that risky staging, Martineau’s supple piano sustaining every vocal maneuver. “Violon” stood out in particular. Graham’s throaty mezzo truly evoked a smoky Paris café and enabled her to play the part of an elegant lady who is taken by the Gypsy violinist nearby.

The singer’s comedic side showed itself during the encore pieces at the end. Each was delightful in its own way, but her singing of Stephen Sondheim’s bossa nova — “The boy from…” — really took the cake.

Branford Marsalis (left) and Joey Calderazzo

Saxophonist Branford Marsalis takes his time. During his Saturday concert with pianist Joey Calderazzo at Spivey Hall, Marsalis’ downshifted speed applied to both the programming — languid ballads peppered with occasional spunkier numbers — and his solos, careful expressions of storytelling that progressed not in a haste of notes but by deliberate syncopations and thoughtful sequences. Marsalis, of course, adapts his style on the soprano and tenor saxophones to each performance situation, and in this setting, Calderazzo’s light hand and rubato playing usually called for a restrained attack.

While Calderazzo played a walking bass line with his left hand most of the time, performing without a true time-keeping bass player allowed the duo to bleed tempo out of the tunes, to stop and start, and generally to stretch out musically. Such tunes as “La Valse Kendall” and “The Bard Lachrymose” set the tone for the evening, but hints of the pair’s raw power came forward in “One Way,” with a bubbly, R&B piano accompaniment under an aggressive saxophone melody.

Marsalis’ rise as part of one of the most storied families in jazz has been well documented. The lesser-known Calderazzo got his first big gig as part of the late tenor saxophonist Michael Brecker’s quintet — toward the end of the night, the duo played Calderazzo’s “Hope,” written for Brecker as he battled cancer — but the pianist and Marsalis have been friends since Calderazzo was 14. After the death of Marsalis’ longtime pianist Kenny Kirkland in 1998, Calderazzo joined the Branford Marsalis Quartet. The piano-saxophone pairing came about slowly and was unveiled to the world at the 2009 Newport Jazz Festival. Last year, Marsalis and Calderazzo released the superb CD “Songs of Mirth and Melancholy” on Marsalis Music.

Nearly 15 years of performing together in a group, and experiences playing together that go back to 1990, have helped form a strong musical and personal bond between Marsalis and Calderazzo. Throughout the 90-minute set, they exhibited such comfort that they always played in perfect lockstep, even on tunes such as the out-of-time “Endymion,” parts of which sounded like an unmetered dialogue between piano and saxophone.

Marsalis is not a flashy player, at least in this setting. Contemporary saxophonists such as Joshua Redman tend to explore the altissimo range of their instruments, constantly playing notes far beyond the traditional range by changing their embouchure and using alternative fingerings. Marsalis stayed away from such fireworks for most of the evening, making a carefully placed ascension to the stratosphere, or a slow escalation to a double-forte barrage of vertiginous notes, all the more powerful.

Marsalis kept his soprano sax close, using the smaller instrument for most of the introspective numbers. The saxophonist, who like his brother Wynton has also recorded classical repertoire, has a short, quick soprano vibrato, but his sound is open and warm; the notes get a little more pointed as he ascends the instrument, but his bottom and middle ranges are rich and comforting.

Because of his jazz cachet, it was Marsalis who got people into the seats, but the evening felt like a true collaboration. Calderazzo played a large role, not only as the anchor of each number but as a savvy and compelling improviser. After such a long musical and personal friendship, the connection between the two shone through in the music — which, while it was usually beautifully subdued rather than fiery, was incredible all the same.

ASO Principal Guest Conductor Donald Runnicles with Canadian violinist James Ehnes.

Thursday’s Atlanta Symphony Orchestra concert featured Canadian violinist James Ehnes, appearing here for the second time. His chosen work, Benjamin Britten’s Violin Concerto, seems a rather brave choice. Probably unfamiliar to the vast majority of the audience, it is demanding without the opportunities for flamboyant display that abound elsewhere in the repertoire. Perhaps this suits Ehnes. He comes across as a bit low key. Hey, he’s Canadian! But he brings along a solid technique and impressive musicality.

He plays with a dark, rich tone and easily navigates the switches from the gentlest pizzicato to fortissimo attacks. He is equally at home with the sweet singing lines of the melodious passage as with the Gypsy-like interludes. As for the concerto itself, it seems a mixed bag. There are occasional stretches that seem a bit mundane, but much of the work has a truly original sound, pitting the soloist, playing in Romantic style, against a modernist counterpoint from the orchestra.

The Britten piece isn’t really “Britten-esque.” In the final movement, though, some trademark chords arrive, as if the composer decided that the piece needed a signature. This was a nice introduction to a neglected work by one of the great masters of the 20th century, and it helps to hear it played so impeccably. Donald Runnicles, who conducted, seemed content to give Ehnes free rein without subduing his orchestra.

Encores apparently are scheduled in advance at the ASO these days, and they seem to be getting rarer. Perhaps this is a reaction to the uniformity of the audience reaction, standing ovations having become a ritual rather than an honor. For whatever reason, this talented performer didn’t get one (an encore, that is). That’s unfortunate. He seemed to have earned a bit of extra stage time by bringing us something new and rare, and by playing with such finesse. Those extra minutes are often the best part of an entire evening.

The performance was marred by the jarring melody of a cell phone during one of the more delicate passages. Because the offending patron was seated near the front, right under the noses of Ehnes and Runnicles, it was surprising that they were able to maintain their concentration. A very similar incident occurred a few weeks ago at a New York Philharmonic concert, where Alan Gilbert, the conductor, was so distracted that he had to stop the performance until the phone was turned off. Here, somehow, Ehnes and Runnicles soldiered on.

Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 in E-flat Major, a.k.a. the “Eroica,” seems to be appearing almost every season at the ASO (this is the third time in four years). Some might question the need to revisit popular warhorses at this pace when there are important gaps in the orchestra’s repertoire, but it’s hard to question the importance of the “Eroica,” or its power. It also serves to deliver an audience when less popular works are programmed, and it was no coincidence that the Britten was placed first, to prevent flight into the night at intermission.

At least this performance of the “Eroica” was an opportunity to contrast the approaches of ASO Music Director Robert Spano, who conducted it in 2008, and that of Runnicles. It gives a window into the value brought by Runnicles, whose contract as principal guest conductor has just been renewed.

For one thing, Runnicles gets a very different sound from the orchestra. Balance is very important to him. There were times in the “Eroica” when you could feel him subduing the brass just a bit, whereas Spano, going for dramatic punch, would do the opposite. Runnicles’ pacing is quite brisk and his textures are light, both characteristics of the period instruments movement, whereas Spano takes a more Romantic approach.

The most interesting feature of the Runnicles sound is an emphasis on the lower strings. His placement of basses and cellos on the audience’s left, reversing the usual ASO plan, makes this more noticeable. Because the sound is in a different ear, it is, in fact, hard to determine how much is actually a change in the sound itself and how much is just the effect of this repositioning on the brain.

In any case, with this “Eroica,” we got a performance with less sturm und drang than we’d get from Spano. Runnicles’ “Funeral March” didn’t pack the same punch. But this more subdued reading might be the one for the more cerebral listener. The fleet tempi elsewhere and the dark string texture made Runnicles’ “Funeral March” sadder and more personal, but also, because of his strong emphasis on the beat, more of a march.

The briskness of his approach was most daring in the final movement, as it rushed toward the final coda. If the performance lacked the shattering impact of a Spano reading, it was nevertheless more introspective. Having listened to the two very different interpretations, it’s easier to understand the value brought by a regular guest conductor: we get to have it both ways. “Eroica” is a great vehicle for showing off the orchestra, and on this occasion the brasses and woodwinds were impeccable.

The concert will be repeated at 8 p.m. Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday. Next week, Runnicles will return with Mahler’s “Resurrection” Symphony.

ASO Music Director Robert Spano (left) with Donald Runnicles.

(Photos courtesy Atlanta Symphony Orchestra)

On the same day that conductor Donald Runnicles makes his first appearance on the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra podium this season, ASO President Stanley Romanstein made a surprise announcement that Runnicles has agreed to extend his appointment as principal guest conductor through the 2013-14 season.

“Robert Spano and Donald Runnicles have a superb artistic partnership here at the Atlanta Symphony,” Romanstein said. “Together, they have created a bond with not only the musicians of this orchestra but with our community — the people of Atlanta.”

Spano, the ASO’s music director, and Runnicles are currently in the 11th year of that artistic partnership, part of a groundbreaking collaborative leadership model that the orchestra adopted and has since proven an exemplar for other orchestras.

In memo sent to the ASO staff yesterday, Romanstein recalled that when he arrived in May 2010, he was posed the question of what the orchestra would do when Runnicles’ current appointment concludes in 2012. “I talked with Robert at some length about Donald’s many contributions and about the unique nature of our artistic partnership, and the answer seemed obvious: persuade Donald to stay!” Romanstein said. “I’m thrilled, as are Robert and our musicians.”

The ASO announcement echoes the BBC Scottish Symphony, which opened its season four months ago with an announcement that Runnicles will continue as its  chief conductor through 2015. He has held that post since 2009.

But Atlanta has become close to Runnicles’ heart. “The excitement and fulfillment of working with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra deepens for me each year,” he said. “I have such confidence in both this orchestra and Robert’s leadership, and look forward to continuing our musical partnership.”

Runnicles will post large frequent-flier miles. Aside from his positions in Atlanta and Glasgow, he’s also general music director of the Deutsche Oper Berlin and music director of the Grand Teton Music Festival in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Runnicles has recorded four CDs with the ASO, three of them with the ASO Chorus, which has also traveled with him three times to Germany to perform with the Berlin Philharmonic.

In tonight’s concert with the ASO in Symphony Hall, which will be repeated Saturday and Sunday, Runnicles will conduct Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 and Benjamin Britten’s Violin Concerto, with violinist James Ehnes as soloist.

Runnicles will return again the following week to lead the orchestra in Mahler’s monumental “Resurrection” Symphony on Thursday and Saturday, with soprano Nicole Cabell, mezzo-soprano Kelley O’Connor and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus.

The performances will take place at 7 p.m. Saturday, January 21, at the Atlanta Opera Center, 1575 Northside Drive, Building 300, Suite 350. Attendance is free, or you can tune in to a live webcast at www.atlantaopera.org. You can vote then for your favorite team via Twitter (@TheAtlantaOpera) or Facebook.

A moment from last year's "24-Hour Opera Project Showcase" at the Atlanta Opera.

The composers competing in the project are Jason Barabba, Timothy Brown, Sarah Hersh, Jennifer Jolley and Jonathan Stinson. Hersh is from Atlanta and the others from around the country. The lyricists, all from the Atlanta area, are Brad Fairchild, Meghan Fitzgerald, Chadwick Hagan, Curtis Krick and Vynnie Meli. Five stage directors, 15 singers and five accompanists will also participate.

The judges will be Stephanie Adrian, voice professor at Emory University; Andrew Alexander, who writes for ArtsCriticATL and Creative Loafing; John Lemley, host and assistant program director at WABE radio; and Ann Owens, former executive director of the Houston Grand Opera.

Renowned countertenor David Daniels relishes his role as Prospero in the Met's production of "The Enchanted Island," which he calls "fluffy, fun gorgeousness." It will be broadcast live to movie theaters on January 21. (Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera)

The production, Daniels says, came about as a way to showcase the music of early opera for modern audiences. Recognizing the popularity of recent Baroque productions, the Met’s general director, Peter Gelb, wanted to produce a show that would make the form more accessible. (Baroque operas can run into the four- and even five-hour range and often use staging conventions, such as singers exiting after each aria, that make them challenging for contemporary viewers.)

“Enchanted Island” is a pastiche, itself a Baroque tradition, in which a new show is created by taking plot elements, characters and arias from a number of pre-existing sources. “Island” tells the back story of Prospero from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” using selections from more than 30 operas, cantatas and oratorios by Handel, Vivaldi, Rameau and other masters of the Baroque period. Daniels’ co-stars include Joyce diDonato as the witch Sycorax, Danielle de Niese as Ariel, Luca Pisaroni as Caliban and, in a cameo, Plácido Domingo in the deus ex machina role of Neptune. Early-music specialist William Christie will conduct.

As in the Baroque era, the arias in “Island” were chosen to match the singers’ strengths, and the singers themselves were consulted as to what would become part of the show. A favorite aria for Daniels is “Pena, tiranna” from Handel’s “Amadigi,” which becomes “Chaos, Confusion” in “The Enchanted Island.” Lyrics are not translations from the original French or Italian. As in the pastiche tradition, new lyrics — in this case English ones by librettist Jeremy Sams — have been substituted. “We were part of the whole process,” Daniels says of the unusual way the opera was created. “Each of us as individuals was able to put forth some arias that we like, that we think work well for us as singers, that have worked well for us as singers in other productions.”

He says he has enjoyed the unusual opportunity to participate in creating a new work, but in the end he feels that it lacks the heft and drama of the genuine article. “It’s Walt Disney meets 18th century,” Daniels says. “It’s charming, entertaining, beautiful, magical. It is what it is. This is fluffy, fun gorgeousness…. But if one brings a real human approach to the intact, complete operas — like this person is a real human being with real feelings, even if the story is kind of wack — it’s just a more moving night of theater. Handel was a master dramatist. He made characters that pull at your heartstrings.”

Producers need to lose their fear of scheduling complete Baroque operas, the singer argues. Such shows are still seen as a risk, in spite of their recent surge in popularity. “I see it over and over,” he says. “They’re always scared to death to schedule too many performances of a Baroque opera because they don’t want to lose money. They think of it as a risk. But what happens is it’s the only one that sells out, it’s the only one that everyone wants to see. And then they end up saying, ‘We should have done two or three more performances.’ ”

A scene from the opera, with Placido Domingo as Neptune, David Daniels as Prospero, Luca Pisaroni as Caliban and Joyce DiDonato as Sycorax. (Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera)

The countertenor grew up in Spartanburg, S.C., and moved to Atlanta about six years ago. He and his partner also maintain homes in New York and Ann Arbor, Mich., and Daniels spends most of his time traveling and performing. “I’ve always loved Atlanta,” he says of the city, where he maintains a base in a loft building in Midtown, where Robert Spano is a neighbor and friend. “I have a lot of friends in Atlanta that sing in the symphony chorus,” Daniels says. “I’m a huge Braves fan. I’m a huge sports fan in general, but I’m just passionate about the Braves. I followed them when they used to lose 100 games in a season in the ’70s.”

David Daniels moved to Atlanta about six years ago. (Photo by Robert Recker)

Although appearing in a world premiere in a role tailored to match him is unusual for an early-music specialist such as Daniels, this won’t be the last time. He’ll appear in another world premiere, being specifically written for him by composer Theodore Morrison and librettist John Cox. “Oscar,” which will premiere in Santa Fe, N.M., in 2013, tells the story of the trials of Oscar Wilde, with Daniels in the lead. “I’m so thrilled at the subject matter,” he says. “The way this man was persecuted… It’s horrible what this man had to suffer. I’m thrilled to sing the role. It’s a great piece of music. Having a piece written for me: that’s been a dream of mine, and it’s finally coming true.”

Daniels says that being an openly gay man in the world of opera is not difficult, but it does present some challenges. “Instead of being a singer, I was ‘the gay singer’ for a while. But it’s not hard to be out in the world of opera. Especially not as a countertenor…. It’s not as if it’s going to be a shock to someone! The irony is that the majority of my countertenor friends who sing at these houses are all heterosexual.”

He adds: “There are a lot of gay people in this business that don’t find it as important as I do to talk about. But with the amount of suicides that are happening every day of young gay boys and girls, I find it ridiculously important.”