There are moments when you step out looking for a quiet respite from your own daily obsessions, only to collide headfirst with the very thing that inspires you most. I often pass through Cedar City on the familiar, winding road up to Cedar Breaks National Monument—a gorgeous, red-rock stone amphitheater carved by time itself—yet yesterday offered a different kind of spectacular beauty altogether.
Yesterday afternoon, my wife and I made the short drive up to Cedar City for the Utah Symphony’s open-air concert—a magnificent gathering woven into the broader fabric of the America250 and Freedom 250 programming. After living and breathing the Revolutionary era through my music for months, I was genuinely looking forward to a change of pace. I just wanted to sit under the Utah sky and lose myself in a melodious canopy of classical masterworks resonating in the open air.
In particular, I was eager to witness the brilliance of virtuoso violin soloist Aubree Oliverson. Having spent time studying compilation footage of her performances—marveling at the sheer technical command and emotional depth she brings to the fingerboard—I knew her contribution to the evening would be something special. Given that roughly half of the arrangements in my own catalog lean heavily on the voice of violin, cello, or traditional fiddle, I have a deep, working appreciation for how these stringed instruments speak.
We arrived at the outdoor venue hours before the concert to stake out our spot on the lawn, setting our camp chairs in a place that provided a good vantage of the stage. We had no way of knowing that our little plot of grass happened to be right next to where two very proud parents would sit: Aubree’s mom and dad.
What followed before the first bow touched a string was an entirely unexpected, delightful conversation. We talked shop, shared perspectives on the state of contemporary and classical music and touched on the deeper meaning of the semiquincentennial we are all commemorating this year. It is rare and refreshing to cross paths with people who carry a deep appreciation of and dedication to the arts that her family clearly embodies.
When the performance finally commenced, the orchestra did not disappoint. Their delivery of The Star-Spangled Banner brought what appeared to be thousands of attendees to their feet, and John Williams’s Liberty soared across the greensward with the cinematic weight and emotional resonance it demands.
And soon after came Aubree.
To say her playing was brilliant feels almost reductive. The absolute control, tone, and vitality she brought to the stage were mesmerizing. I count myself fortunate to have captured on video what she mentioned was one of her favorite violin pieces of all time—a performance that completely illuminated the stage and left the audience spellbound.
Watching a master at work always brings a sobering moment of introspection. Sitting there, listening to the impossible agility of her runs and the rich resonance of her instrument, I had to admit feeling more than a bit inadequate about my own musical pursuits. It is humbling to witness the intense, lifelong dedication required to master a classical instrument at that tier of virtuosity.
Yet, life is not a zero-sum game of comparison. We each carry our own distinct, imperfect, but necessary and often beautiful talents to share with the people around us. When our individual contributions are combined in appreciative and collaborative ways, they cease to be isolated efforts. They weave themselves into a larger, enduring fabric of beauty that enriches us all, long after the initial efforts are expended. It is a profound honor to celebrate freedom, creativity, and diversity this anniversary year in ways that build upon our deepest shared values. It makes for a magnificent foundation—one well worth building upon for the years to come.
