The tuba is an essential in the modern symphonic orchestra—and in the popular imagination, forever associated with bands and jazz. But, in the orchestra, there is no good substitute for its ability to serve as the bass of the brass section, and to blend equally well with the string section. But, it was not always sitting back there. It really didn’t exist until around the middle of the nineteenth century, when technology in the form of valves finally caught up with musical needs. Before that, various instruments were tried as the bass for all the winds. These experiments were miserable failures. The contrabassoon really didn’t have the volume or suitable color for the job. The bizarre serpent was said to be only usable for the “rituals of the bloody Druids,” and the ophicleide’s sound (think of a baritone sax played with a bass trombone mouthpiece) was deemed a combination of a “roar and a splatter.” So, the advent of tuba was hailed universally by all, and soon employed magnificently in the operas of Wagner (the Italians were slower to adopt it). Thus, the tuba began a long, important life of servitude, providing the bass in the back of the ensemble.
However–in contrast to the nineteenth century and the early twentieth century–today, no instrument is content to take its place humbly in the background. Now, every instrument, including the tuba, is the focus of serious artists, who are capable of astounding virtuosity. And, accordingly, composers of every ilk are keen on providing sophisticated compositions that display, not only the artistry of the performers, but the inherent, nuanced musical capabilities of the instruments, as well. Consequently, there is no dearth of fine concertos for the tuba. The days of “Tubby the Tuba” are long gone. And that is pellucidly in evidence in the concerto by the eminent composer, Lalo Schifrin.
Schifrin, of course, is familiar as the composer of the iconic “Mission: Impossible” theme, with its intoxicating 5/4 meter. Active until his death in summer 2025 at the age of 93, he was among the foremost of Hollywood composers, arrangers, and conductors. Born in Argentina, after studies in Paris at the Conservatoire, he returned to Argentina to lead a jazz big band before heading to New York to further his career. In 1963 Schifrin moved to Los Angeles, and there began his outstanding career composing for TV and the movies. His musical compositions for those media are legion, and familiar to every American—to name just few: Cool Hand Luke, Enter the Dragon, Bullitt, Coogan’s Bluff, Dirty Harry, Mannix, The Amityville Horror, and the Cincinnati Kid.
His Tuba Concerto was composed in 2016 for Eugene Pokorny, well-known tubaist with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and given its première in 2018 with Pokorny and the Redlands Symphony Orchestra. A fun and entertaining piece, to be sure, it contains a variety of musical styles, from Baroque to jazz. The accompaniment includes not only a large percussion section, but harpsichord, as well. It’s cast in the usual three movements of a concerto.
The first movement, Andante animato, is a beautiful tribute to the style of a Baroque, Italianate operatic aria—of which the soaring vocal lyricism Bach so adroitly folded into his own inimitable style. Its pliable melodic lines require the utmost in mastery of sustaining cantabile lines in the difficult highest register of the tuba. And here and there, is a bit of the added florid ornamentation requisite of operatic singers of the time.
The Andante of the second movement brings us more exquisite lyricism, but rather in a twentieth-century mode. It’s a true “andante,” in the sense that the main idea is a simple little tune that just “walks” along. Harmonies, somewhat angular melodic lines, and a rather whimsical cadenza all combine to create a more contemporary, casual style. It ends with a low register “blat” that pays homage to the tuba’s popular reputation, and a beautiful high register final gesture leads to the last movement.
The finale, an Allegro molto, is a jazz-inflected, rousing scamper up and down the tuba’s range, replete with bebop inspired scales and arpeggios. It begins with a simple statement of more or less the main idea before plunging in with implied variations thereon. Schifrin gives the soloist no quarter in the technical demands, as the tuba zips through material that we all associate perhaps more with Dizzy Gillespie. A welter of “dizzying” notes leads us to the blistering end—marked by a last allusion to the opening theme.
Wm. E. Runyan
©William E. Runyan 2026