Pops concert brings the Downey community together

Carolyn Osborn in her father’s stovepipe hat. Photo by Lorine Parks

What a nostalgic treat to see Concert Master Carolyn Osborn don the red, white and blue stovepipe hat her dad, Tom Osborn, always wore to conduct the Sousa marches. Sousa gets close to Dr. Seuss with this confection.

In a tradition Dr. Tom, our music director for 20 years, started in the ‘80’s, children take turns at leading the Orchestra in the family finale for the Downey Symphony Orchestra’s annual visit to the City of Downey’s Twilight Concert Series.

It was clear skies, green grass. a gentle breeze and the fifth longest day of the year, as the Downey Symphony came to Furman Park. Tiara-crowned Miss Downey and her court greeted everyone, and the Downey Rose Float Association grilled their juicy hot dogs and sold home-made berry pies a la mode to the thousand or so who come to relax, listen and applaud.

This free concert is the gift of the Downey Symphonic Society to the people of Downey. The Board and the Symphony Guild raise the money to put it on, as they do for the three subscription concerts in the Downey Theatre. As President Don Marshall told the audience ranged out on the grass in front of the bandstand, “These symphony concerts are where Downey comes together and enjoys themselves together.”

“This year,” said Don, “we will celebrate Happy 250th Birthday Beethoven in January. We will hear the thrilling Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony in October, and exciting 21st Century composers in April.

“As always,” added Don, “with your contributions, we will continue our mission to bring music to the schools in Downey, with a live concert in the theatre for third-graders and another for fifth grade. Our quintet will visit each K-5 and Middle school with a fun and educational program, in the spring.”

With a thunderous drum roll, a snappy snare drum’s rat-a-tat-tat, and a booming set of timpani, the National Anthem always quickens the blood. There’s nothing like a symphony orchestra’s percussion section for starting off a concert right.

“We’re going to celebrate Christmas six months early,” said Sharon Lavery, Music Director of the Downey Symphony Orchestra. “We’re starting with an Irving Berlin Tribute, beginning with Alexander’s Ragtime band. And we’ll end with I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.”

An elaborate tower of chimes played throughout the piece, climaxing, as Sharon warned us, with Berlin’s, “May all your Christmases be white.”

Joanne and Bob Earl. Photo by Lorine Parks

The Orchestra did their best to sound like chicken and geese and ducks, scurrying out of the way as “The Surry with The Fringe On the Top” came clip-clopping along, to introduce a tribute to Roger and Hammerstein’s “Oklahoma.” Top-hatted Carolyn Osborn and her violin shone in LeRoy Anderson’s “Fiddle Faddle.”

Symphonic Society Board member Ryan Keene brought his whippet, Eliot, who is normally laid back even in crowds. But Ryan says Eliot got agitated when he heard the piccolos, placed right beside a microphone. Do dogs hear siren songs at high frequencies, that we mere human will never know?

The Armed Forces Medley always brings a thrill and a rueful shake of the head as active and former service members, and anyone with a service person in the family, stand during the tribute to the Armed Forces medley. The man sitting in front of me with the walker decorated with the American flag and a bicycle bell, stood for his service song.

“He was in the Navy,” said his companion. His hat read, “World War II Vet,” and when I applauded him, he saluted me.

On the other side, a man was helped to rise by his daughter. “Army, World War II,” she said.

Board member Joanne Gronly also stood for the Army’s “Caissons Go Marching Along.” After the Marines and the Coast Guard got their due, the last song was the Navy’s Anchor’s Aweigh, and Symphony President Don Marshall stood for that.

For all those who stood, there were no smiles, no bows. Just a silent moment of memory, till the music changed.

For the traditional finale, Maestro Sharon called for all the children in the audience to “come and help me conduct. I’m so tired I can’t raise my arms,” she said. “I need some help.”

At least 50 tiny and not-so-tiny tots ran to the side of the stage, for their 30 seconds with the baton. Even a dog (not Eliot) conducted, held in Sharon’s not-really-tired arms.

The fife whistled, trumpets sang their martial siren song, drums rattled, and the Orchestra played on.