When Genres Combine: A Symphony of Vulnerability at Red Rocks
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.” — Brené Brown
On July 6th, under the vast Colorado sky at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, I witnessed something remarkable—an evening that wasn’t just a musical performance but a masterclass in artistic vulnerability. The Colorado Symphony Orchestra, in all its precision and discipline, took the stage with a group of sensational rock musicians—Tom Hamilton, Oteil Burbridge, Duane Trucks, with Melvin Seals on keys and vocalists Jacklyn LaBranch and Lady Chi—to perform a tribute to the late Jerry Garcia’s music. The show was as bold as it was beautiful. Jerry died nearly 30 years ago at the age of 53, but his music was brought to life at Red Rocks on this gorgeous evening.
What struck me most wasn’t just the blending of two musical worlds, but the quiet courage it took to make it work. Classical musicians are trained in a structured tradition, where notes are adhered to with almost mathematical discipline. Rock, on the other hand, thrives on improvisation, feel, and flow. In fact, Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead were the original jam band, their extended shows featuring complex musical excursions and plenty of give and take. For many in the symphony orchestra, my guess is that playing Garcia’s music meant stepping into uncharted territory. It required more than technical skill—it called for openness, adaptability, and a willingness to risk not getting it right the first time.
There was vulnerability, too, on the part of the rock musicians listed above. Sharing the stage with an orchestra means surrendering some spontaneity in favor of arrangement and structure. They had to trust the symphony’s interpretations of music that, for some, lives and breathes in looser, more unpredictable forms, and Jerry Garcia was the master of improvisation. Yet what emerged was neither rigid nor chaotic—it was deeply moving, a testament to the power of collaboration and the mutual respect that grows when artists stretch themselves in the presence of top-end talent.
Vulnerability in this context wasn’t weakness—it was the glue that made this musical fusion possible. Both groups of musicians showed up not just to perform, but to listen, adapt, and complement one another. In doing so, they honored the spirit of Jerry Garcia, who himself defied musical boundaries and welcomed cross-genre experimentation. For example, one of the songs performed was a Grateful Dead tune called Terrapin Station, written by Garcia, and it featured in the original recording—you guessed it—a symphony orchestra.
As the final notes echoed off the red sandstone walls of the remarkable Red Rocks venue, I was reminded that true artistry isn’t about staying in your lane—it’s about having the humility to venture into someone else’s. What unfolded at Red Rocks that night wasn’t just music; it was vulnerable leadership in harmony, and a lesson for all of us who sometimes hesitate to step into the unfamiliar.



I bet that Terrapin was fantastic!