Theme and Variations

Brahms and the Clarinet Part 1

2011-04-20T18:26:00.004-04:00

The next installment about Brahms takes place near the end of his life, after he had declared he had retired from composing in 1890. However, during a trip to Meiningen in 1891, he was enthralled with the talents of a clarinet player named Richard Muhlfeld. What followed was a trio, quintet, and some sonatas.

Of the two, it seems that the quintet is the more popular, though I personally prefer the trio. I have a handful of recordings of these works, which were part of CDs I acquired for other works on the albums. Having spent some time with these works, however, I've come to really like them. I'll start with the quintet.

One version of this work I have is that of the Tokyo String Quartet featuring JE Lluna on clarinet. On first listen, it seemed to me that the quartet was attacking the music, rather than playing it. Of the three versions I have, I like this one the least, and I think I'm even going to put it on eBay or something. It includes the clarinet trio, which I didn't give much of a listen, based on my displeasure with the quintet. Looking back at my listening notes, I read "Another deep listen of the Tokyo Quartet version does not strike me as harsh...A very workman-like performance that isn't bad per se; just not as likable as the other two."

The Berlin Philharmonic Octet performs on the Philips 2-CD set Brahms: The Complete Quintets. Aside from the clarinet quintet, the piano and two string quintets are on this collection. To my taste the Berlin Octet (members of the octet, actually) performed the work much more romantically, rather than in attack mode as by the Tokyo Quartet. It seemed much more pleasant at the outset. From my notes: "I find this version the most pleasing. While the other two are good, at the end of the [Berlin Octet version] I feel as if I've been present at a sublime experience."

The third recording features the Brahms Double Concerto, but also has the Capucon Quartet with Paul Meyer on the clarinet. This recording has amazing sound; every note is played to its fullest (fullest what? sound quality, failing to find a better word), with a bit of filigree. Their third movement reminds me of frolic through a meadow. The last movement returns to minor mode, ending in a bittersweet chord. This movement taught me a lot about how much sound can be produced from just a few instruments.

(Clarinet Trio to follow)

Top 10 Composers

2011-02-04T16:27:00.003-05:00

New York Times music critic Anthony Tommasini has put together his list of the Top 10 classical composers of all time to cap off a two-week series of articles and interactive features on the Times' web site. Tommasini invited readers to participate by taking a poll of their own choices and by leaving comments.
Here is his final list:

1. Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
2. Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
3. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 – 91)
4. Franz Peter Schubert (1797-1828)
5. Claude Achille Debussy (1862 – 1918)
6. Igor Stravinsky (1882 – 1971)
7. Johannes Brahms (1833 – 97)
8. Giuseppe Verdi (1813 – 1901)
9. Richard Wagner (1813 – 83)
10. Bela Bartok (1881 – 1945)

The first thing that struck me about the list was the absence of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky. That just floored me. I had always just assumed that Tchaikovsky was right up there with the Big 3. In fact, I figured picking the Top 5 would be easy - Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Brahms and Tchaikovsky. It was picking the second group of five that I thought would be a problem.
But Tommasini drops Brahms downs to No. 7 and doesn't even give Tchaikovsky so much as an honorable mention in his article.
But I get where Tommasini is coming from. He is a "Modernist" which accounts for the high ranking of Debussy and Stravinski as well as the inclusion of Bartok over such choices as Haydn or Chopin.
Also, he is clearly a big fan of Opera, whereas I have still not given that medium the full attention it deserves and am thus not wedded to choices such as Wagner and Verdi at this time.
What Tommasini's list reminds me of is when I was in college and Rolling Stone magazine came out with its list of the Top 100 Rock Albums and then preceded to fill up many of the slots with critically acclaimed, but awful (in my opinion) Punk albums. For instance, they gave the No. 2 slot (right after the Beatles) to the unlistenable Sex Pistols album.
But to be fair, I don't really think it is right to compare Debussy and Stravinski to Punk bands. Nevertheless, my choice for the Top 10 is considerably different (Plus I have to have a second Top 10 for all the runner-ups.)
So here is my list:

Beethoven
Mozart
Bach
Brahms
Tchaikovsky

Schubert
Chopin
Haydn
Schumann
Mahler

Mendelssohn
Dvorak
Rachmaninoff
Handel
Liszt

Shostakovich
Saint-Saens
Prokofiev
Greig
Debussy

Of course, my list will change and evolve as I continue to absorb and experience more and more music. But it is a fun exercise anyway.

Central Vermont Chamber Music Festival - 18th Season Saturday, August 28th, 2010. Chandler Music Hall, Randolph, Vermont.

2010-10-13T22:21:00.000-04:00

Dvorak String Quintet in G Major, Op. 77, 1st mvmt.

Brahms' Sonatas for Viola and Piano

2010-06-12T13:32:00.003-04:00

Starting with this CD, I've decided to keep a listener's record, to remind me of my thoughts at the time of listening. (I've also ordered a more detailed notebook, which I'll use once the cahier journals run out.) I put my jazz thoughts on the left side, and the classical thoughts on the right side.

The CD on which I've worked is the second of a two CD set which features Pinchas Zukerman (playing the violin and viola) and Daniel Barenboim (on piano).

The viola with piano sonatas are numbered 1 and 2 of opus 120, late in the composer's career. The first is in F minor. The opening movement of the first sonata is a combination of loud drama and beautiful lyricism. The second movement is very sweet, annotated "Andante un poco adagio." Movement 3 is full of happy-go-lucky music, almost dancelike. The final fourth movement is fast and lively. There is so much sound of full music that I had to remind myself that I was listening to only two instruments.

Sonata No. 2 opens lyrically; a pretty first movement. The second movement opens with a fast tempo, followed by a slower, wonderful theme.

It was at this point in my note-taking that I realized I can't break down the two works. Every time I listen I hear something that I missed before. At this rate, I could go through multiple notebooks and still not tire of hearing the music. I only wish there were more than two of them.

As an introduction, here is the first movement of sonata No. 2.

Keiko Matsui Part Two

2010-05-22T17:04:00.004-04:00

Let's start with a bit of music from her Deep Blue CD:

Rather than copy someone, and get charged with plagiarism, I instead provide a link to a great rundown of her life and career from Answers.com.

Starting with the next two CDs I'll be covering (pun intended) I've decided to keep listening notes. I have a fancy, shmancy notebook for this on order, but I'm starting with a small Moleskine notebook, where I put my jazz notes on the left page of the open book, and classical notes on the right (which currently has some notes on Brahms' sonatas for piano and viola).

These aforementioned CD's of Keiko's are her Night Waltz recording, and her Cherry Blossom CD.

Night Waltz is the earlier of the two recordings, and I found a nice video of her performing the title work.

This work is truly in three-quarter time, if my counting is correct, but a bit fast for a ballroom-style dance. It starts off the album, and might be considered a "fusion" work with her inclusion of a rockin' electric guitar.

The CD itself is short by today's standards, lasting only 41 minutes and fifteen seconds through nine works. When I listen, it is even shorter, as I usually skip over the two songs "Eyes Were Made to Cry" and "Where Wildflowers Grow." Again, the music is OK, but the lyrics turn me off.

If I were to pick a favorite track, it would have to be "Hope." I can't say exactly why; just one of those things, I guess.

I read in her bio (from the link I provided above) that Rachmaninoff is one of her influences, and maybe that is why feel drawn to her music. I can't say exactly why; just one of those things, I guess.

The next album, Cherry Blossom, is copyright 1992. In my notes, I noticed that, overall, the CD has the beginnings of her current smooth jazz sound. For example, there is a lot more sax, of which we'll hear quite a bit. The first track is entitled "Rainy Season" and it gets you in the listening mood. But I can't determine the link between the work and its name. I found this to be true on much of the collection. The CD title work, "Cherry Blossoms," sounds more Irish than Japanese. We know how important cherry blossoms are in Japanese art (Japan gave the US a gift of cherry trees, which can be found in the mall area in Washington, D.C.).

It's probably ignorance on my part, not recognizing the significance of the title. But, on the last two, I think I get it. The next-to-last work is called "Foot Steps" and you hear what sounds like sneaking around music. The last work is entitled "Dawn Opener," which starts out quietly like early predawn and finishes with the day in full swing. I've thought before that a Vermont morning would sound like that, and here she thought of it years ago.

I skip around "She Prays to the Wind," another vocal. Who knows? One day maybe I'll like these songs. I do generally like the music. I once despised opera, and I love it, now. So there may be hope for me yet.

Keiko Matsui - Part One

2010-05-19T10:07:00.005-04:00

I'm taking a little side trip (as I warned you I would do) to talk about Keiko Matsui's recordings. I'm doing concentrated listening to the CD's I have, starting with the ones with the earliest copyright dates to the latest (this won't work all that well, as a bunch of them have the same date). I start with Under Northern Lights and No Borders.

I should state up front that my first experience with her was with the White Owl CD, and I was hooked by the end of the first work. So, for the early recordings, I may refer to that CD.

Under Northern Lights is the title of the first track on the CD so named, and it has some nice stuff, but the only works that stick out are the ones I don't like. On many of her early CDs she included one or two vocal works, and, except for one, I really don't like them. Generally, the lyrics are too schmaltzy. There are two such vocal works on this CD: "As Far as the Eye Can See" and "High Brow Country Affair," the latter of which I really, truly don't like.

No Borders has one of the best cover photos of her entire set of recordings. I don't know why, but she usually seems kinda sad on most of her covers. This one, though, is a great close up in black and white and she is actually, sorta smiling. The other photos in the notes look great as well. The CD has the only vocal I've liked, "Mover." From the notes I see that the vocals are sung by Greg Walker, with chorus by Maxi Anderson. Another name pops out at me, Nathan East. He plays bass for the jazz quartet Fourplay, as well as adds occasional vocals. So, East gets around in the smooth jazz world.

Two works on the CD are "Kappa (Water Elf)," and "The Wind and the Wolf," with the latter featuring her husband Kazu on the Shakuhachi, a sort of flute. I mention these, as they are on the White Owl CD as well.

As a sidebar, I find concentrated listening on a smooth jazz album is easier than on a classical album. Since the works are shorter, I can listen in the car without getting interrupted in the middle of a longer work.

Sonata for Violin and Piano

2010-05-16T22:01:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure where it started, but at least from Classical era compositions, a work named "Violin Sonata" would include a continuo, such as a keyboard, that was the accompaniment to the violin. In Brahms' three sonatas, the composer made a point of calling them "Sonata for Violin and Piano." This seems to me proper nomenclature, as both instruments play important roles, neither of which is accompaniment. In fact one of the CD liner notes refers to one of the pieces as (my paraphrasing) works for two orchestras. It is true that these works have a marvelous, full sound. With each repeated playing of the sonatas, I hear a new bit of music that adds to the beauty of the work.

(Incidentally, I recently saw a PBS special about Charles Schultz, the cartoonist who drew Peanuts. One of the characters in the strip was a piano player named Schroeder. Though Schultz preferred the music of Brahms, the name "Beethoven" sounded funnier, so that is what he had Schroeder play.)

Due to enthusiasm on my part, I have three recordings of Brahms' three sonatas for violin and piano. One of them is a two CD collection (which also contains the viola and piano sonatas, hence the second CD) performed by Pinchas Zukerman and Daniel Barenboim. The second recording comes from the EMI Classics Great Recordings of the Century, with Itzhak Perlman on violin and Vladimir Ashkenazy on piano. The third recording also comes from the EMI Classics label, and features Anne-Sophie Mutter on violin and Alexis Weissenberg on piano.

The first sonata, well...what can I say? All three of these sonatas are fantastic. I guess rather than blathering on about how great these works are to hear, or their history, but I'll just put links for Sonata No. 1 Op. 78, Sonata No. 2, Op.100, and Sonata No. 3, Op. 108.

I guess the best way to go would be to write about my favorite performers for each sonata. First, I have to admit right up front that I didn't care for the Mutter/Weissenberg performance. (I'm not sure why I put this CD here, it should be with the rest of Ms. Mutter's recordings.) I mostly had a problem with the piano playing. The pianist sounded stiff, almost mechanical, especially when played side-by-side with Mutter's (as usual) superb performance. So, while I find the CD OK, it isn't as pleasant to my ear as are the other two.

For the first work, Sonata No. 1 in G Major, Op. 78, I give the nod to Zukerman and Barenboim. Their performance reached out of the stereo and grabbed me by the ears, as if to say, "Hear this! Have you ever heard anything like it!?" How can you fail to appreciate such a work?

For Sonata No. 2 in A Major, Op. 100, I liked the Perlman/Ashkenazy performance the best. Their choice of dynamics and tempi try to out-Romanticize this Romantic music, and it works pretty well. Small wonder it was chosen as one of EMI Classics' Great Recordings of the Century.

Finally, for Sonata No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 108, I go back to Zukerman/Barenboim. It's a close call, and in fact I think the third sonata was the best for each of the three recordings. But while I liked the dynamics of Perlman/Ashkenazy in the second sonata, it was too much for the third sonata.

I haven't given the viola sonatas as much playing time as I'd like, so I'll devote more time to them and report back soonest.

What is a "Klavierstucke?"

2010-05-03T10:32:00.006-04:00

The last of my solo Brahms piano recordings are entitled "Klavierstucke." Aside from this, I had to learn the definitions of some compositional form Brahms used in his solo piano works.

A Klavierstucke is a collection of works, some of which can stand on their own outside the collection.

The first CD is disc five in the collection of solo works. It consists of Ops. 10, 79, and 76. Op. 10 is a set of four "Ballades." Here is a video of the second ballade in the work.

According to Wikipedia, "A ballade (French for "ballad") refers to a one-movement musical piece with lyrical and dramatic narrative qualities." These early Op. 10 works must have been written around the time Brahms was staying with the Schumann's. There is also a ballade in his Op. 118 works, about which I will talk later.

I have two sets of recordings for the ballades, (as well as the Op. 79 rhapsodies coming up). The first, from the big collection, is played by Hakon Austbo (he is the performer of both discs five and six). In all of Austbo's performances I found the works played in what I would call a very workman-like way. It's not that they aren't played well, but they seem to lack a depth of feeling that is to be found in these works.

On the other hand, the second performer (who plays most of the same works as discs five and six of the big collection), Nicholas Angelich, puts the emotion into his playing that I imagine Brahms intended. Here's a sample of him performing the first ballade of Op. 10.

The next Brahms work I studied was Op. 79, "Rhapsodies." According to Wikipedia, "A rhapsody in music is a one-movement work that is episodic yet integrated, free-flowing in structure, featuring a range of highly contrasted moods, color and tonality." Both of these rhapsodies are in a minor mode (B minor and G minor), and exhibit the kind of free moving music and emotion for which this form is known.

I don't have a recording of Angelich playing the Klavierstucke Op. 76, just one performed by Austbo. For this work, I had to learn the definition of a "capriccio", which (again, from Wikipedia) "...is a piece of music, usually fairly free in form and of a lively character. The typical capriccio is one that is fast, intense, and often virtuosic in nature.." Op. 76 starts with two of these, followed by two "intermezzi," (I suggest you read the wikipedia link for this one). In all there are four capricci and four intermezzi in Op. 76.

Finally, we get to later works Brahms wrote near the end of his life. These consist of a Fantasien, Op. 116, an Intermezzi, Op. 117, and Klavierstucke Ops. 118-119. A new term for me came from Op. 118, which contained a "Romanze." I was lucky to find a video of Evgeny Kissin performing the romanze.

The Op. 119 consists of three intermezzi, and an ending rhapsody. As the last solo piano works written by Brahms, these works are simply beautiful. Here is the second movement played by Irena Koblar, Brahms Op. 119, Intermezzo in E minor.

I had a hard time getting into these pieces, which is why it took so long to write this entry. To fully appreciate the music, I had to simply sit and listen. I think that may be at the heart of many Brahms' pieces, which might be why Brahms had so many detractors in his lifetime. While some of his music grabs you at first listening (take his second piano concerto, for example), some requires multiple plays before you "get it." It's a little easier now, as we have instant access to the music (just play the CD again), whereas in Brahms time, to hear a piece you had to either hear it in concert, or play it yourself. As for the latter, his solo works could sometimes be too virtuosic for the average amateur pianist. So, if you find yourself paying for a seat at a concert, you want to hear music you will like and understand. I think this is as true today as it was in the 19th century. Some of Brahms' works (some, perhaps much of the classical music repertoire as well) requires the listener to work in order to understand the music.

So, on to some chamber works.

Brahms Piano Variations

2010-04-20T21:03:00.003-04:00

As I had indicated in an earlier post, I have been listening to the solo piano works of Brahms. I've gotten to the two CD's that feature his theme and variations work.

What I've really enjoyed are the two books of variations based on a theme of Paganini. This is partially because one of my favorite classical works is Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. This latter work is one of his most popular and well-known works, and the theme that is used by Rachmaninoff was earlier used by Brahms.

There are twenty-eight variations in all, divided into two books, each with the theme followed by fourteen variations. Each variation is relatively short, the longest lasting a bit over two minutes. Apparently these are quite challenging works to perform. I found them very enjoyable.

Also on this disc are the Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel, Op. 24.

Classical Connect - Free classical music online

There are some twenty variations on this theme.

The second disc of variations (the fourth in the CD collection) contains two sets of variations (Op. 21, No. 1 and 2) on an original theme. I found these to be uninspiring. I simply could not get into them at all. I suspect more time with them would help alleviate my ambivalence, but I will admit that while Brahms is one of my favorite composers, not everything he composed floats my boat.

Finally, on this CD is Brahms Op. 9, Variations on a Theme of Robert Schumann. These I like much better, so I often would just skip ahead to these. There are sixteen variations in this work, again rather short, the longest being a little over two minutes.

Both CD's are recordings of Wolfram Schmitt-Leonardy. I haven't heard these works performed by anyone else, but I can't find anything but brilliant playing of these works. There are several YouTube videos of his recordings, which are more artistic than the average video. I close with one of them, some of the Paganini variations.

Brahms Solo Piano Works

2010-03-17T12:27:00.004-04:00

I've reached Johannes Brahms (1833-1897), one of my favorite composers. There are many CD's of Brahms' music in my collection, so I will have quite a few entries on him and his compositions.

Born in Hamburg, Germany, the son of a musician, Brahms showed early talent on the piano. In his teens he got work as a piano player in dockside brothels. It is thought that these settings gave him his lifelong aversion to women, although there were a few who stole his heart. One of those was Clara (Wieck) Schumann, about whom we will have more to say in the Brahms entries.

At the age of twenty, Brahms went on a tour as accompanist to Eduard Remenyi, a Hungarian violinist a few years older. Several months after the tour began Brahms was introduced to Joseph Joachim, a world renowned violinist, and the two hit it off. When Brahms left Joachim to continue the tour, he was encouraged to meet Robert Schumann when he reached Dusseldorf. However, at that time Brahms was resentful of Schumann, as during a concert tour which took Robert to Hamburg, Brahms had sent an envelop to Schumann to obtain his thoughts on the works. Schumann returned the envelop unopened.

After leaving Joachim, Brahms and Remenyi went to Wiemar, where Franz Liszt held court. The meeting with Liszt did not go well, prompting a split with Remenyi. Brahms went back to Joachim for a while, before setting out on a walk along the Rhine, visiting friends and relatives. He had a letter of introduction to Schumann in his pocket, though he still had sour feelings for Robert. Everywhere Brahms went, he was encouraged to pay a visit to Schumann. It wasn't until he visited someone with a collection of Schumann's scores that he had a change of heart. He found Schumann's music to be very much to his liking.

Brahms finally did visit Schumann and his wife, Clara, and the couple were amazed at the solo piano works of Brahms. He was invited to stay with them for a few weeks (an invitation he nearly turned down - it wasn't until Clara went on a search of Brahms did he realize that the Schumanns were sincere). It was during this time that Schumann wrote The Article, sometimes referred to as The Curse. Schumann a former editor and creator of periodicals dedicated to music, wrote in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik that a new prodigious talent was afoot, a new Beethoven who was "destined to give ideal expression to the times." While this spread the word throughout Europe about Brahms, the article put a lot of pressure on Brahms, which is why it took so long for him to write his first symphony.

At a San Antonio shop selling overstock books, CDs, and other media that I obtained a collection of six CDs of Brahms solo piano works. I have been listening to the first two CD's of the set, which contain the some of the works Brahms played for Schumann on the day they met. CD 1 contains the Piano Sonata No. 1 in C Major, Op. 1, a Scherzo in E Flat Minor, Op. 4, and a set of Waltzes, Op. 39. CD 2 contains Piano Sonata No. 2 in F Sharp Minor, Op. 2, and Piano Sonata No. 3 in F Minor, Op. 5.

The Op. 1 sonata is an amazing work, and it is no small wonder that it impressed Robert Schumann. The first movement (an allegro) sets the stage for the entire collection, a powerful opening theme as memorable as the beginning of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5. There are some wonderfully lyric passages throughout the sonata, as well as in the scherzo. The twenty-one waltzes of Op. 39 are each very short (only one of which is over two minutes long) but are really fun, too.

The second CD's sonatas are performed by Helene Grimaud. I don't have another recording with which to compare, but it seems to me that the tempi Grimaud plays are too fast in some sections, and too slow in others. Though she is undoubtedly a very talented player, her speeds take away from the performance, and the works. I may someday find another recording, to see if I am right or not.

For the works by Brahms, I plan to start with the simpler works, work up through the chamber works, then on to the symphonic works; the two serenades, the concerti, and the symphonies. I'm really looking forward to add my experiences to the blog.

Chopin's 'Soul and Heart'

2010-03-09T22:27:00.002-05:00

From the Wall Street Journal

By BYRON JANIS
March 1 was the 200th anniversary of the birth of the great composer and pianist Frédéric François Chopin. Or was it? Not according to his sister Ludwika, Franz Liszt and Chopin's close friend Jules Fontana. They all said, at one time or another, that he was born on March 1, 1 809, despite Chopin's insisting his birthday was a year later. To add to the mystery, there is a birth certificate issued by the parish church in Brochów, Poland (and on display there to this day)—near Zelazowa Wola, the small town outside Warsaw where Chopin was born. It gives us still another date: Feb. 22, 1810, the same date inscribed on Polish monuments and on his burial site at Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris.

Chopin was born of a French father and a Polish mother, and though he lived half his life in Paris, his heart and soul were always with Poland. His passion for music showed itself early—even at age 3 he would cry whenever he heard it. His mother, an amateur pianist, decided to give him lessons and taught him what little she knew. Fortunately, both his later piano teachers recognized the boy's genius and did not try to force the conventional methods of playing on him. They let him go his own way, freeing him to become the unique, great pianist he was.

.At age 7 he wrote his first composition and gave his first public recital—to tremendous acclaim. He continued studying piano and composition at the Warsaw Lyceum and gave highly successful concerts that made him the toast of Warsaw.

In 1831 Chopin moved to Paris, where he spent his time performing and teaching piano. It was there that he met George Sand, who became his lover. The two spent many summers at Sand's country home in Nohant, where Chopin composed some of his greatest music.

After their eight-year love affair ended in 1847, Chopin was never the same. He died less than two years later. The cause was thought to be tuberculosis, but the autopsy stated "cause unknown." His close friends agreed that he died of a broken heart.

In 39 brief years Chopin managed to compose over 180 works for piano, and except for three piano sonatas and two concertos, most of them last no more than three to five minutes. Chopin's mastery of the genre shows itself in his magical preludes and mazurkas. His 24 études, which are basically technically challenging exercises, have been transformed into beautiful music by Chopin's genius.

The ballade, full of dramatic intensity, mainly inspired by Polish epic poems, was a new musical form invented by Chopin. He converted the scherzo, originally a musical jest, into a work of a completely different nature. "How is gravity to clothe itself if humor wears such dark veils?" Robert Schumann once observed of these works. Chopin also transformed the polonaise, a dance that predated him, into a Polish processional march. One Chopin polonaise even gave us the popular song "Till the End of Time."

Chopin was born just as the Romantic Period started—in fact, he was one of its initiators. But in his outlook he also harked back to the Classical Period of Bach and Mozart—the only two composers he really loved. He blended classical restraint with romantic feeling, detesting any exaggeration that would turn sentiment into sentimentality. To recognize that is to play Chopin's music the way he wanted it played—the way he himself played it. Yet there's more to it than that. To play his music as he felt it (as we learn from his writings) is to free it of all earthly bonds. As artists, that is our greatest challenge.

Chopin's physical strength was limited not only by his delicate physique, but by his battle with tuberculosis. As a result, many who heard him perform in public auditoriums complained that his tone was almost inaudible. Yet genius that he was, he found a way to handle and transcend his limitations. He devised a tonal palette scaled down to the softest sound possible, increasing to a mezzo forte (half-loud) that sounded like a fortissimo by way of contrast.

Like the man, Chopin's music was a mystery. Nothing like it had ever been heard before, nor has it been since. Liszt would introduce Chopin to friends with words that captured that otherworldly quality: "I want you to meet a man who comes from another planet."

No word is more important in describing the playing of Chopin's music than rubato. It comes from the Italian word robare, to rob, but in music it means "give and take." If you steal a little time here, you've got to give it back. For example, in playing a melodic phrase, if you go forward in the first two bars, you must pull back in the next two so that the freedom you took does not break the rhythmical pulse. The classic feeling will come from the left hand, which Chopin insisted should be played as evenly as possible. Then the right hand can have its romance and play as freely as the left hand will allow. Every performer will use that freedom differently, and that is the beauty of the "disciplined freedom" that makes Chopin Chopin.

Chopin said the Polish word zal—a "bittersweet melancholy"—best described much of his music. Paradoxically, it can also mean anger, even rage, an emotion also found in Chopin's musical vocabulary. Schumann agreed, describing Chopin's music as "cannons buried in flowers." For example, listen to the Ballade in G-minor and the Scherzo in C-sharp minor.

When I was 7 and first "met" Chopin, his music touched a special place in me that nothing else had. I wanted to know more about the man. I discovered he was, like his music, filled with intense emotions and tender poetry.

It was not only playing his music that brought me close to Chopin. In 1955 I visited Nohant, and had the thrill of unexpectedly meeting George Sand's granddaughter, Aurore Lauth Sand. She was 11 when her grandmother died in 1876 and remembered her vividly. To have played a Chopin nocturne for her, in the very room where it was written, was one of my life's most unforgettable moments.

Then in 1990 Andrew Borey, the great-great-grandson of Chopin's sister Ludwika, walked into my life. This charming, elegant Polish gentleman and I became very special friends. When I recorded an all-Chopin CD in 1996, you can imagine how moving it was for me to have Andrew and his son George sitting on the stage with me.

Chopin's own words perhaps best describe him: "Bach is like an astronomer who, with the help of ciphers, finds the most wonderful stars. Beethoven infuses the universe with the power of his spirit. I do not climb so high. A long time ago, I decided my universe would be the soul and heart of man."

Chopin knew that climbing higher was not the only way to reach heaven.

Mr. Janis is a world-renowned concert pianist particularly known for his interpretations of Chopin. PBS will air a documentary about his life in October and J. Wiley will publish his memoirs in the fall.

William Boyce (1711-1779)

2010-03-06T21:42:00.003-05:00

The CD player has been serenading me with the symphonies of William Boyce, or, at least the eight symphonies of his Op. 2.

Something mentioned in the Wikipedia link (isn't that a great source of info?) not written in the CD liner notes is that Boyce, like Beethoven, went deaf. Unlike Beethoven, however, he did not continue to compose, but did go on to complete works of his teachers.

Generally speaking, the Baroque era is said to run from 1600 to 1750. These eight symphonies are each partially inspired or borrowed from some of Boyce's earlier works; the symphonies themselves were published in 1760. Musicologists will warn us not to take era dates as hardbound boundaries, and in this case it is good not to do so. These symphonies definitely have late or High Baroque styles. Except for the sixth of the set (which has two), the symphonies have three movements each. These are short works, with the longest being the eighth which is a little under eleven minutes long.

Most of the works have a French Overture for the first movement, followed by dance-like movements. They do not always follow the Haydnesque formula of the second movement being slow, and the third movement a minuet-and-trio form. As might be expected from the practice of borrowing from other works to make new ones, the eight symphonies have a hodge-podge of movement structure.

Listening to the CD, the works remind me of Handel's Water Music, which is also in the French Overture form. These are light works. I don't recall ever hearing them on classical music radio. Were it not for Robert Greenberg's course on the symphony, I doubt I would have heard of them at all. That would be a shame; though lately I've not been in a mode to listen to much Baroque era music, I have enjoyed these. It is also interesting to hear pre-classical era symphonies.

A YouTube search brings up several examples/movements of these works.

Alexander Borodin (1833-1887), Another of the Mighty Handful

2010-03-04T16:22:00.002-05:00

I've discussed members of the Russian Mighty Five, five mostly self-taught composers from the Romantic Period who turned away from German music in favor of a more Russian form of great music. One of them was Balakirev, about whom I wrote earlier. Borodin remained an amateur for most of his career, teaching science and chemistry in order to pay for his musical hobbies. In my collection I have two of his symphonies (one, the third, was only a sketch, and was orchestrated by Alexander Glazunov, another of The Five), some music from his opera Prince Igor, and his two string quartets.

His Symphony No. 2 in B Minor wasn't a smashing success at its premiere, but a reworked version with changes suggested by another member of The Five, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, did win some acclaim for Borodin. I've found in listening to it personally that I have trouble finding something to hook onto structurally. I suspect it will take more listening in order to find my own way into the work. From an auditory distance, I like the symphony, with its exotic sounds and conversations between orchestral sections.

I find the quartets a little easier to understand, perhaps because they seem to stick closer to Western structure, though, with them, too, I can't seem to find my way into the works.

Borodin's most famous works come from his opera Prince Igor, with music from the Polovtsian Dances used in the musical Kismet. The most recognizable part is the "Stranger in Paradise" theme, as well as other dances from the opera. Sarah Brightman has recorded a version with lyrics, as has Tony Bennett and numerous others.

Wikipedia has an explanation of who the Polovtsians were.

I find it hard to say much more about the music, especially given the citations I've given for Borodin's biography as well as his small output of music. There's none of the music I don't like, and I look forward to spending more time with it. I suspect such Russian Nationalist music is an acquired taste, and what little I do get out of it makes me want more.

Taking the Scenic Route

2010-03-04T13:45:00.002-05:00

While listening to Keiko Matsui's CD White Owl it occurred to me that I am not as familiar with her other recordings as I am with that one. So, as a sort of side trip, I will be listening and learning about her and her music on occasion, writing about what I've heard on this blog, along with the classical music.

I'll probably do the same for my Bob James collection, as well, at some point. In any event, I appreciate that you read the blog, and hope for more comments!

Bond Reclassified

2010-03-03T20:02:00.004-05:00

Fans of the string quartet Bond will get the pun in the title.

I'm not sure where I first learned of the group. I used to belong to the now gone BMG Music Club (which has turned things over to yourmusic.com, a sad situation, as yourmusic.com just doesn't do the job as well as BMG did - in their sales e-mails, they push groups or performers of whom I've never heard, and none of them classical music artists), which picked them as Selected Recordings on occasion. I seem to recall my Mom telling me about them, too. At any rate, I added their "Best of" recording, Explosive, to my collection last year. It's a DualDisc that has the CD on one side and a DVD on the other. The DVD includes the entire CD in Surround Sound, plus has their music videos. And for Christmas I was thrilled to get their performance DVD from 2001, Bond - Live at the Royal Albert Hall.

For those not in the know about Bond, checking out the links I've included will reveal that the quartet consists of four very hot babes playing the string instruments of a string quartet (two violins, a viola, and a 'cello). Their web site claims that they are the "MOST POPULAR STRING QUARTET IN THE HISTORY OF THE MUSIC INDUSTRY." Problem is, they aren't a string quartet. The lead performers are a quartet, but they have keyboard players, a small string ensemble, guitar and bass players, plus percussion and drummers as part of the group.

Their repertoire consists of original works, plus arrangements of classical music gone electric. At first, I just thought that they might be controversial, but didn't really question their classical music classification. But it was brought up in an interview included on the Royal Albert Hall DVD that, in Britain, they had been "banned" from the classical charts. My knee-jerk reaction was what is typical of me when I hear of art work being banned, which was a mild case of outrage. It wasn't until I went back to the CD in preparation for this entry that I realized that, not only are they not a quartet, they aren't classical performers, either.

That's not to say that they aren't a blast to hear, and even more of one to watch. I like them, a lot, and I like what I suspect are the disturbances the group causes classical music snobs. I'm sure they have the talent to play classical string quartet repertoire; they even have some tracks played using acoustic instruments.

But the CD is not going back into the classical music bookcase; nor are the ones I have on order (by the way, I have got to stop this blog from leading me to buy more music!).

The thing is, even though they use classical music in some of their performances, that doesn't make them classicists. An analogy would go like this: I drive a vehicle made by GM. I'm sure there are common parts (nut, bolts, paint, adhesives) among their various offerings, but that doesn't make what I drive a Cadillac.

By all means, I recommend their recordings. It's fun stuff, very inspired, and a far sight better than the disco versions of some classical works that bubbled up during the '70s. Their original works are great. And, finally, they are, well, four very hot babes, along with being talented musicians. But their CDs belong on the shelf with the pop-rock recordings.

Peter and the Wolf

2010-02-26T17:37:00.004-05:00

I have been listening to Peter and the Wolf alot lately as it has become one of my kids' favorites everytime they get in the car with me.
Peter in the Wolf is a musical composition for children composed by Sergei Prokofiev in 1936. It has a prominent role for a narrator who tells a Russian folk tale about a young boy who goes against his grandfather's wishes and manages to capture a wolf. There is a musical theme for each of the characters in the story using a different instrument from the orchestra.
The theme for Peter is played by the strings and is the best known of the piece. It is very catchy. In fact, it is playing in my head right now.
As for the other characters, there is a bird represented by a flute; a duck represented by an oboe; a cat represented by a clarinet; the grandfather represented by the bassoon; the wolf represented by the horns; the hunters represented by the woodwinds; and gunshots represented by the timpani.
There have been many recordings made of Peter and the Wolf over the years with a wide assortment of famous people taking the role of the narrator. Here are a few examples from the Wikipedia entry:
Arthur Godfrey
Sir John Gielgud
Leonard Bernstein
Basil Rathbone
Boris Karloff
Christopher Lee
Sean Connery
Peter Ustinov
Dudley Moore
Captain Kangaroo
David Bowie
Mia Farrow
Itzhak Perlman
Lorne Greene
Sir Alec Guiness
Jonathan Winters
Patrick Stewart
Ben Kingsley
Carol Channing
David Attenborough
Sharon Stone
William F. Buckley Jr.

And of course there was the animated Disney version that came out in 1946 and was narrated by Sterling Holloway, better know as the voice of Winnie the Pooh.

But the version I have was narrated by Sting, the former lead singer of The Police, one of my all-time favorite bands. It was recorded sometime in 1991 by Deutsche Grammophon with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe conducted by Claudio Abbado.
While I have not listened to all the other versions, I think that Sting does an exceptionally good job. He certainly holds my kids' attention. At first, the kids were indifferent to the music and wanted me to scoot up to the story-telling, but I insisted we listen to the whole piece and now they recognize the themes of the different characters and enjoy it as a whole.

Luigi Boccherini (February 19, 1743 – May 28, 1805)

2010-02-18T19:07:00.002-05:00

Luigi Boccherini belongs to that sad, long list of artists who die poor and then become extremely popular. He started life as the son of a cellist, become a cellist like his father, with a public debut at the age of thirteen. He was born in Lucca, Italy, where his remains were moved in 1927 when he was "rediscovered" in the twentieth century.

Music critic Charles Burney, in 1776, wrote of Boccherini, "There is perhaps no instrumental music more ingenious, elegant, and pleasing, than his quintets: in which invention, grace, modulation, and good taste conspire to render them, when well executed, a treat for the most refined hearers and critical judges of musical composition." The quintets on which Burney heaps praise consist of a regular string quartet (two violins, viola, and cello) with an extra cello (no surprise there, since he was a cellist). These were among the first of their kind, however another chamber ensemble he pioneered was the piano quintet (piano plus string quartet).

Boccherini's guitar quintets were most likely derived from piano quintets; apparently such a practice was common, given the demand for chamber music. These works have a definite Classical Era sound. Despite the name "guitar quintet" these works do not universally feature the guitar. One of the quintets, No. 4 in D, is nicknamed "Fandango" and includes the addition of a sistrum (interesting in and of itself, check it out) and castanets. While his trips and stays in Madrid may have colored some of his works, mostly he is a composer of Italian-style music.

I have two symphonies by Boccherini, one in D Major and one in A Major, both only three movements long. It comes as no surprise that they remind me of symphonies of Haydn, as both composers are from the same era. The CD I have comes from one of those low-cost box collections, this series called The Greatest Symphonies. The CD also contains a performance of Haydn's Symphony No. 99, but I will cover that when I got to Haydn.

There sure seems to be a lot of performers and composers who begin with the letter "B" in my collection, doesn't it? I'm not even up to Brahms yet! Borodin is next...)

Georges Bizet (1838 - 1875)

2010-02-06T12:12:00.003-05:00

Bizet was born on October 25, 1838, the only child of musician parents. His parents nurtured his talent, and he entered the Paris Conservatoire in 1848, at the age of ten. Among his talents was a musical memory similar to that of Mozart.

At seventeen, Bizet wrote his Symphony in C, of which I have a copy that shares disc space with Mendelssohn's excerpts from his incidental music for A Midsummer Night's Dream, along with Smetana's The Moldau. If you haven't heard the latter work (or you have, but just don't recognize the name) you are in for a real treat. Though this is an entry for Bizet, I can't help but include a YouTube performance of The Moldau, in two parts.

Part One

Part Two

Bizet's symphony sounds like something Mozart or Haydn might have written. It is a charming piece, but it resembles music from the Classical era more than the Romantic era in which Bizet lived. It was never performed in his lifetime, and he tucked it away with other works from his youth. It was eighty years later when the piece was discovered by music historian Douglas Parker, who in turn drew the attention of conductor Felix Weingartner. It received its first performance in Basle, Switzerland in February 1935.

Bizet is best known for his opera Carmen, one of the most popular operas of all time. I have a recording of excerpts from the two Carmen suites, but not the entire two suites. The CD also has his Petite Suite for Orchestra and the L'Arlesienne Suite Nos. 1 & 2.

Though the recording does not include both Carmen suites, what it does include is a lot of fun, especially if you have seen the opera. Bizet didn't actually arrange the two suites, as he died just three months from the opera's premiere. This first performance, shown in Paris, was not much of a success. However, it was a blockbuster smash hit in Vienna. By this time, Bizet had died at the young age of 36. A couple of years ago I did a "Carmenathon" by watching all the DVD versions I could find at Borders, as well as through NetFlix. I thought I posted it here, but apparently did not. In any event, it was fun to do. I read that Brahms went to the opera some twenty times. Hopefully one day I'll see the opera live.

More Beriot

2010-01-13T12:11:00.004-05:00

Two other CDs have been playing for me lately, one of solo violin works, and another of violin duets.

The solo works include his 12 Scenes ou Caprices pour le violon, Op. 109, plus Nine Studies, and his Prelude ou Improvisation, Op. Post., performed by Bella Hristova. The scenes are given titles that indicate the mood of the music. For example, the first one, La Separation, begins with a sad largo followed by a con moto section, both of which return to end the scene. La Fougue (The Spirit, The Fire) is a vivace con fuoco with a martial section of double stops.

The Nine Studies are said to be "vintage Beriot study material that rises to the level of artistry in the hands of a master," according to the CD liner notes.

The last work, the Prelude ou Improvisation has few bar lines, and alternates between quiet and energetic, lyrical and virtuosic playing. Before the work is done, the performer will have used a number of violinist's tricks.

By far, though, my favorite has been the recording of violin duets. There are three Duo Concertants, Op. 57, each of them consisting of three movements. These are great works, with some beautiful lyric sections. They have been very comforting to me during my migraine attacks, as I listen to them in the dark. The recording also includes Six Characteristic Duos, Op. 113, based on themes from a Prince Yusupov's Ballet Espagnol. These are a set of fun works, the violins "imitating" guitars, playing various themes, including a fandango and a bolero.

I found a YouTube video of the artists, Christine Sohn and John Marcus, making their Naxos recording of the duets.

These Beriot recordings have been a great discovery for me, and I'll be on the watch for more of his works (I have already ordered a recording of piano trios). I highly recommend these works for anyone's collection. Since many of them are on the Naxos label, the CD's are not costly, and are indeed a bargain.

Charles-Auguste de Beriot

2010-01-10T15:18:00.006-05:00

ArkivMusic is a great source for classical music recordings. They also have a weekly e-mail which advertises weekend specials, and introduces some new, sometimes off the beaten path, musical recordings. It was through one of those that I learned about Charles-Auguste de Beriot. So, as with Balakirev, I'm going backwards a little bit in the alphabet, this time with three CD's of violin concerti.

Some of the sources on Beriot indicate that he is familiar to many violinists, though more for practice pieces than for concert works. Beriot wrote ten violin concerti in all, and I was able to find recordings of concerti 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, and 9. Two of the recordings come from the Naxos label, while the third is a German label CPO.

I love it when I discover a new Romantic-era composer, and Beriot, who lived from 1802 to 1870, lands right into that period. His works reflect the time as well. His Concerto No. 1 in D, Op. 16, is a one movement work subtitled "Military." And the piece does sound like it could be arranged for a marching or military band. He was influenced by Nicolo Paganini, as indicated by the virtuosic second and third concerti.

The sources say that Beriot was the father of the so-called Franco-Belgian school of violin playing; I didn't know there was such a thing. But in a neat case of serendipity, the school is mentioned in the interview with Hilary Hahn I linked in the entry below.

My method for writing these entries involves spending time with the recording(s) of interest, in alphabetical order as they are arranged in my collection. Sometimes, the pieces don't hold my interest, and I find my mind wandering away from the music and onto something else. I didn't find that with the Beriot recordings. I was able to play and listen to them time and again. I suspect that for many people music, particularly classical music, is something to occupy the background as they do something else unrelated. When I work with these recordings (and at other times, too) I just sit (or, during a migraine attack, lay in the dark) and listen, as I would at a concert. I find this to be an excellent way to spend time, and sometimes I come away from hearing a recording and feeling as if I have just experienced something very special. That is how I have felt with these concerti.

I also have a CD of solo violin works, plus a neat recording of works for two violins. I'll be spending my time with them next.

Hilary Hahn Interview

2010-01-10T15:16:00.000-05:00

A Q&A interview with Hilary Hahn by Opera Today has been posted on the web. Read it here.

More Balakirev

2009-12-31T16:31:00.005-05:00

This business of exploring composers in my collection is getting expensive; I usually find out about more works from a composer or performer which ends up as a purchase to expand said collection. Such has happened with Balakirev, but thanks goodness for Naxos, so it's not too bad.

I suspect Naxos gets a bad rap because its catalog consists of little known performers, often playing little known or niche works, and at a very low price as well. I confess I was a bit of a classical snob (a term coined by a former roommate), buying only known works by the big symphony orchestras, and famous soloists for concerti. However, Naxos has made a believer of me. Many of their recordings get recommendations from such periodicals as Gramophone, plus Grammy nominations. Snobbery would have me miss these Balakirev symphonies, plus some additional works, so I'm glad I'm over that!

The first symphony, Symphony No. 1 in C Major, also includes an orchestrated version of his piano work Islamey, plus the tone poem Tamara. It is performed by the Russian State Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Igor Golovschin.

The Russian State Symphony Orchestra began in 1936, and was been under the direction of Evgeny Svetlanov from 1965 to 2000. His Assistant Conductor was Golovschin. The orchestra has played all over the world, specializing in Russian classical and contemporary works, "...from Glinka to Shostakovich, Khachaturian and Sviridov."

The symphony sounds great. Balakirev started work on the symphony in 1864, but did not complete it until 1897. In between a religious conversion kept him briefly out of the music world between 1871 and 1874. He rejoined the musical world in 1881 as director of the Free School of Music, so at least part of those 33 years he was a busy man.

I love it. There are themes that come from Russian folk songs (which are not familiar to me, I'm only going by the CD notes), what sounds like time shifts, perhaps in and out of 5/4 time, in the style that inspired Dave Brubeck's Take Five. True to the composer's intentions, this is a Russian, not German work. However, it is still a Romantic work, and folks who like the orchestral works of Rachmaninov will like those of Balakirev.

Islamey was originally a work for piano, and it's a knuckle-buster. (The Piano Society has notes and an online version here.) It is mostly based on themes from music Balakirev heard from the Caucasus and Armenian region. The orchestral version here was orchestrated by Sergei Liapunov.

The symphonic tone poem Tamara is about a beautiful but evil princess who lives in a palace in a wild countryside. Weary (and unwary) travelers are lured to the tower seeking shelter. The traveler has a wild, erotic night, but continues his journey in the morning as a corpse floating down a river.

The Symphony No. 2 in D Minor is performed by the same orchestra and conductor as on the first symphony CD. Balakirev worked much faster on this work, starting in 1900 and finishing in 1908. It was first performed under the baton of his protege Liapunov at the Free School of Music.

Finally, this second CD contains the symphonic poem Rus. This work went through several versions starting in the 1860's, changing names a few times, until he completed it in the 1880's.

These have been wonderful discoveries for me. It has led me to search for other works of The Mighty Five (even Cesar Cui; I've liked the little that I have heard). As I listen to them, I'll write them up here. But another new discovery for me has been Charles de Bériot, a composer of violin works. That's who will be in my CD player next.

Mily Alexeyevich Balakirev

2009-12-27T15:21:00.002-05:00

I'm going backwards in the order a bit, as I just discovered a CD by Mily Alexeyevich Balakirev. He is best known as a member of the Russian "Mighty Handful," or, sometimes referred to as "The Mighty Five." This group, mostly self taught, was determined to promote what they believed was true Russian music. They believed that the Russian music world was too heavily influenced by German musical ideas, thus they sought to define and encourage the development of Russian musical arts.

The free music site Classical Cat has a list of a few of his works available online.

The works I have are two piano concerti, plus a Grand Fantaisie on Russian Folksongs. The first concerto has only one movement lasting a little over fourteen minutes long. The second concerto in E flat major was not completed by composer, though the sketches for it were composed so that another Russian composer, Sergey Lyapunov, could complete the last movement with Balakirev's blessing.

Balakirev's primary instrument was the piano, and apparently he was a good one. That, to me, is reflected in these concerti, which seem technical but still enjoyable to the ear. I tend to like Russian music in the Romantic style, and Balakirev's music fits the bill. Though his biographies indicate that he was an unpleasant fellow at times, I think he did accomplish what he set out to do, and that is define and promote a Russian style of music. I think his works do not get the recognition they deserve, nor the playing of which they are worthy. I'm glad that Naxos is dedicated to bringing out little known gems of classical music.

Leonard Bernstein

2009-12-20T15:01:00.003-05:00

I order my collection alphabetically by either composer or performer, but not by conductor. If I did order by the latter, I suspect that my collection of Leonard Bernstein CD's would have the largest number. This man was a prolific recording conductor with many, if not all, of the major symphony orchestras in the world. I find that I like recordings that he conducts most, and when faced with a number of conductors and ensembles for a particular work, I'll choose the Bernstein recording first.

A short biography can be found here.

However, he did more than just conduct; he also composed, and his works blur the line between opera and Broadway musical. I suppose his best known work was the music for West Side Story (which, sadly, I have not seen, though it is in the DVD queue). The closest he gets to opera is in Candide, the theatrical version of Voltaire's book of the same name. One of the CD's I have is entitled Bernstein: The Best of All Possible Worlds, a reference to a character of the story, Dr. Pangloss, who maintains that we live in "The best of all possible worlds," an assertion that causes the impressionable young Candide no end of trouble. Bernstein's overture is one of the composer's most loved works.

The CD I mention is a double disc set, which is organized in a rather clever way. One of the discs contain original composed works, while the second disc contains works that Bernstein conducted.

The second disc set I have is entitled Essential Leonard Bernstein, which highlights his compositions from West Side Story, Candide, On the Town, Fancy Free, Wonderful Town, and On the Waterfront. There are additional concert works, such as Prelude, Fugue and Riffs.

I'm also lucky to have found some Bernstein videos. One is a special set of nine DVD's from his Young People's Concerts with the New York Philharmonic. I've watched a few of these black-and-white shows, which aired on CBS from the late 1950's, and they are entertaining, as well as informative. The other set I have not watched, and are entitled The Unanswered Question, six lectures he gave at Harvard.

As usual, Wikipedia has a great entry on Leonard Bernstein that I'd rather reference than repeat.

To close, I found a YouTube entry of Bernstein conducting his Candide Overture.

(If it doesn't show, you can find it here.)

Rach music

2009-12-05T01:07:00.000-05:00

Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique

2009-10-28T13:07:00.003-04:00

I have only one recording of Hector Berlioz (1803-1869), his most famous work the Symphonie Fantastique. It is one of the many re-releases of the RCA Victor "Living Stereo" recordings, this one featuring the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Charles Munch.

The work is a bit autobiographical. It seems that Berlioz had what for a while was a one-sided love affair with an Irish actress, Harriet Smithson. The symphony is a program work (for which he provided a script at its premiere). The first movement, entitled "Reveries; Passions" introduce the theme, an idee fixe, that represents throughout the symphony a beautiful woman loved by a lonely musician. In anguish over his own one-sided love, takes opium. What follows is a series of dreams. The dreams, in order of their appearance in the work, are as follows: "A Ball"; "Scene in the Country"; "March to the Scaffold"; and "Dream of a Witches' Sabbath."

The anguish felt by the artist must have also been felt by Berlioz, as for the longest time he knew only her face and name; they did not talk, nor even meet, for quite sometime. The work was completed before Berlioz and Smithson met. Those of us with a romantic streak would be happy to know that Hector did finally meet Harriet, and they fell in love and were even married. Those same romanticists would be disappointed to know that the marriage was a failure.

Composer vs. Performer

2009-10-22T22:33:00.000-04:00

Which is more important – the composer or the performer?
Put another way, would you rather listen to a song that you really like sung by someone you don’t like? Or would you rather hear a singer that you like sing a song that you don’t like? Which is worse?
When putting together a classical music collection, should the emphasis be on the composers or the performers? Ideally, of course, you would like to have the best of both worlds. But that is not always going to be the case and everyone has different tastes.
Right now, I am putting most of my focus on the composers simply because I am not all that familiar with who the good performers are. I am beginning to recognize some names through sheer repetition – Vladimir Horowitz, Isaac Stern, Itschak Perlman, Yo Yo Ma, and so forth. And so if I am looking for a piece by Brahms and it is played by someone I recognize, I consider it a bonus.
I wonder if in the beginning people look to the composer first and as they become more experienced with the music they begin to favor certain performers and follow them regardless of who or what they are playing.
I think this is a phenomenon that is rather unique to classical music because it has so much of its history outside of the recording era.
Imagine for a minute that the Beatles had composed all of their songs before the recording era. What if we had all their songs, but none of their performances and had to rely on other people to play their songs for us. Does Elton John do the best version of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? Does Aerosmith do the best version of Come Together?
That is what it is like with Beethoven, Mozart and most of the other classical icons. We have their music but no recording of them playing it. That used to be the norm, even when they were alive. But now we expect to hear the composer perform their own work in most cases. “Cover” versions are almost always considered inferior.
But in classical music we rely on cover versions of almost everything. So we make up for that by demanding that the performers adhere to the composition exactly like it was written and, in some cases, even use period instruments to recreate the sound that would have been made when the composer was alive.
Still, you can always hear subtle differences between performances. I got used to listening to one version of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony and then when I ran out and bought a copy on CD years later was disappointed to find that it did not sound the same as I remembered. So I have acquired several more versions looking for just the right one.

Collecting Classical Music Part 2

2009-10-03T23:49:00.001-04:00

After listening to the lecture course mentioned below, the first thing I had to do was go out and buy Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. I had a copy somewhere on cassette, but could no longer play cassettes anywhere. I couldn't find a copy at the library or at Half-Price Books and so was forced to go to Barnes and Noble and buy a copy on some cheap label for $6. It's by the Orchestra "New Philharmony" of St. Petersburg by Alexander Titov. It seems decent enough.
Next, at Half-Price Books I found Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto and Capriccio Italien performed by Vladimir Spivakov and the Berliner Philharmoniker after it was highly recommended by Professor Greenberg on the lecture series. Wow. I'd probably still be listening to it over and over again except that I then found Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 at the library. OMG. I almost can't stop listening to it because it is so good.
But I've got so much more music to listen to. I was forced to empty my iPod of anything but classical music and just a few choice jazz selections (I need a bigger iPod).
In Houston at another Half-Price Books store I found Hector Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique by Vladimir Golschmann and Vienna State Opera Orchestra and Mozart Symphonies 40 and 41 by James Levine and the Wiener Philharmoniker.
Now everytime I go into a library or bookstore I come out with a few more prizes for my collection - 24 Caprices by Paganini performed by Itshak Perlman; Carnival of the Animals by Saint Saens; Greig Piano Concerto in A Minor and Peer Gynt Suite; Haydn Symphonies 94, 96, 100, 101, 103 and 104; Mahler Symphonies 1,2 and 6; and Stravinsky's Rite of Spring and Firebird Suite.

Collecting classical music Part 1

2009-10-03T23:09:00.004-04:00

Just finished listening to The Teaching Company course "How to Listen to and Understand Great Music" which was lent to me by Robert.
So naturally I'm on a classical music kick. I've been raiding the local libraries and Half-Price Bookstores to try and round out my classical music collection on CD.
Fortunately, when Susan and I first got married in 1990 I joined the BMG Music Club and for about the first year and a half got their classical music selection every month. In retrospect, I wish I'd kept it up longer. But it gave me a pretty decent collection to start off with. The selections were all high quality recording labels of top artists performing works by the classical masters.
Here is a rundown of the CDs that I got in that manner:

Bach: The Goldberg Variations by Glenn Gould
Beethoven*Schumann Piano Quartets with James Laredo, YoYo Ma, Isaac Stern and Emanuel Ax
Ode to Freedom - Bernstein in Berlin - Beethoven Symphony No. 9
Bernstein the Final Concert - Beethoven Symphony No. 7; Britten Four Sea Interludes
Brahms Violin Concerto - Nigel Kennedy and the London Philharmonic - Klaus Tennstedt
Brahms Symphony No. 4 - Wiener Philharmoniker with Carlos Kleiber
YoYo Ma Concertos from the New World - Dvorak * Herbert: New York Philharmonic, Kurt Masur
Handel: Watermusic and Royal Fireworks by Orpheus Chamber Orchestra
Holst: The Planets / Varese: Arcana - Leonard Slatkin, Philharmonia Orchestra
Debussy: Prelude a l'apres-midi d' un faune / Rhapsody for Saxophone / La Mer and Ravel: La Valse / Bolero - New York Philharmonic with Kurt Masur
Mozart: Concerto and Sonata for Two Pianos - Alicia DeLarrocha, Andre Previn The Orchestra of St. Lukes
Rachmaninoff * Prokofiev Cello Sonatas by Emanuel Ax and YoYo Ma
Rimsky Korsakov: Scheherazade - Royal Conertgebouw Orchestra with Riccardo Chailly
Saint Saens: Symphonie No. 3 "Organ" / Cypres et Lauriers - Michel Plasson and the Orchestra du Capitole de Toulouse
Schubert: Symphony No. 9 in C - San Francisco Symphony with Herbert Blomstedt
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 / Romeo and Juliet - Chicago Symphony Orchestra Daniel Barenboim
Verdi Ballet Music - The MET Orchestra James Levine
Schumann: Complete works for Piano and Orchestra - Murray Perahia and Berlin Philharmonic with Claudio Abbado

Not bad for having no clue about classical music and getting random stuff shipped to me every month about 15 years ago.

New Mozart Works Found

2009-07-24T20:19:00.000-04:00

Read about it here.

Nicola Benedetti

2009-07-19T18:26:00.002-04:00

I have a couple of CD's by the Scottish violinist Nicola Benedetti (I know, sounds Italian, she looks it, too).

Benedetti's 2007 release starts with a favorite violin work of mine, Vaughn Williams The Lark Ascending. It's a pretty work, but I get the feeling not just anyone can pull off a clean performance the way Benedetti does. The rest of the recording is given over to works of composer Sir John Tavener, who has done all sorts of works, including a recessional for Princess Diana's funeral. One of the works, entitled Dhyana, was written especially for Benedetti. Also included is a five-part work, Lalishri, which is inspired by the 14th-century Hindu saint Lalla Yogishwari.

Tavener also composed a work entitled Fragment for the Virgin for her 2005 release. This earlier CD starts out with a violin concerto (No. 1, Op. 35) of Karol Szymanowski, which has a taste of the atonal music that has come to be associated with the music of the 20th century. The rest of the CD is really nice, including the "Meditation" from the opera Thais by Jules Massenet. In fact, the last track of the CD is a performance track, without the solo violin part. I guess this is so you can play along; supposedly you can download the sheet music from her web site (www.nicolabenedetti.com), but, at the time of this writing, I could not access the site.

With all due respect for Sir Tavener, I prefer her earlier CD hands down. There are more lyrical pieces and Benedetti plays them beautifully. She has a 2006 release which I do not have, but which looks pretty good!

Beethoven's Choral Works

2009-07-17T15:22:00.002-04:00

Not much to say here...I'm not really into choral music. So why did I get it? Well, it was a bargain collection, and, well, I didn't used to like opera, but now I do, so my tastes sometimes change.

The first work of the collection is a funeral cantata on the death of Emperor Joseph II, followed by a cantata on the Accession of Emperor Leopold II. Neither of these pieces were published in Beethoven's lifetime.

I wrote about the evening of the premier of Herr Ludwig's Fifth and Sixth symphonies, and this collection includes the Choral Fantasy that ended that busy night.

Well, that covers Beethoven, and, in fact, I will be posting my next artist soon.

Beethoven, the Violin, and the Orchestra

2009-06-14T16:46:00.002-04:00

I'm coming down to the end of my Beethoven collection, with the Missa Solemnis the last to study and to follow here. But I want to touch briefly on his two Romances for Violin and Orchestra (Ops. 40 & 50), and talk about his (sadly) only violin concerto.

I can't seem to find too much about the Romances (found on Vol. 9 of this collection), except that they were written sometime around 1800. According to the liner notes, they resemble studies of the slow movement of the violin concerto. They are pretty works, and have been recorded by a number of people.

The Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D, Op. 61, is a fantastic and beautiful piece of music. More than half of it is taken up by the first movement, nearly twenty-five minutes long. It starts out with an odd, quiet five beats on the timpani, and then the orchestra introduces the first theme. This five beat motive returns a number of times throughout the first movement as dissonant notes. These notes are used to modulate to other keys at various places in the movement.

The second movement is a lyrical Larghetto, which transitions straight to the third movement Rondo Allegro. The rondo has a dance-like theme, but the transition is not jarring as one might expect.

Along with the Platinum Collection version, I also have a version on a SACD featuring Jascha Heifetz and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, as well as a CD featuring Hilary Hahn that I will write about when I get to her CD's.

The history of the concerto is that it was a commission to Beethoven from the violinist and concertmaster Franz Clement. Ten years younger than Beethoven, the composer was quite taken with young prodigy. Clement requested that the concert show off his playing proficiency, and Beethoven obliged, finishing the work just two days before Clement's academy concert on December 23, 1806.

After Clement, the work wasn't performed, as it was considered unplayable. But, in 1844 (some seventeen years after Beethoven's death) a thirteen-year-old Joseph Joachim played it in London, composing his own cadenzas for the work. Joachim's cadenzas are often played with the concerto now, and a number of modern performers have found that the piece is, indeed, playable.

Beethoven: Piano Sonatas and Concerti

2009-05-31T14:20:00.004-04:00

With the help of The Teaching Company, I have surveyed all thirty-two piano sonatas composed by Beethoven. I've also been listening to his five piano concerti, with performances by Alfred Brendel, Leon Fleisher, and Martha Argerich. I've accumulated enough of Argerich's CD's so that I will have to collect them together and review them as I go through them. That will mean backtracking a bit, but she is such a fantastic pianist that I don't mind.

But, let's start with the piano sonatas. I listened to the entire set as performed by Claude Frank in a CD reissue of a twelve LP collection from 1971. These are the same performances Greenberg used in his Teaching Company course.

Like a lot of the finer things in life, I find the piano sonata an acquired taste. I have yet to really acquire a taste for solo instrument music in general. A problem with listening to all thirty-two works is that they begin to sound alike, even though there is a lot of variety in the sonatas which track with Beethoven's growth as a composer. My favorite of the set is No. 15 in D, Op. 28, nicknamed the "Pastoral." I also like the "Hammerklavier" sonata (No. 29 in B-flat, Op. 106). One of the best-known works is No. 14 in C-sharp Minor, Op. 27 No. 2, named the "Moonlight" sonata. I have heard this work a lot over the years on radio and on collection CD's. I've never liked it. Even after a in-depth study of the work, I still just don't care for it.

Other than that, I don't have much to say about the sonatas; there are so many of them (which has given me a taste for what's to come when I survey all of Mozart's symphonies) that you'd think I'd come up with more to write about. But, that's the way it is. I'm sure that as I listen to more solo piano I'll want to come back and listen to them again. To be honest, I'm not totally opposed to solo piano works; examples of composers I've liked include Chopin, Rachmaninov, and Marsha Webb (who is even now writing more works).

Beethoven wrote five piano concerti, and you have to be careful about the relative ages of each work. This is because the concerto numbered 1 was actually composed after number 2. However, since the numbers reflect the order in which they are published, and number 2 was the first one he composed, you can't always rely on the the numbers (or even the opus numbers, as they are, too, enumerated in order of publication) to determine composition age or order. I have two collections of all five concerti, one featuring Leon Fleisher, and the other Alfred Brendel. I can't say I prefer one over the other - they are both excellent performers. The Fleisher collection includes the so-called "Triple Concerto" (in C, Op. 56), while the Brendel set includes the "Choral Fantasy" (in C Minor, Op. 80). These extras were included, I guess, because there was a lot of space on the CD with the fifth concerto, which suits me fine.

The first three concerti were composed during his "early" period (i.e. before his "Heroic" period began with his third symphony). They are closer in style to the classical sound he inherited from Mozart. Nothing about them particularly sticks out about them (and this includes the performances of Nos. 2 & 3 by Argerich), but they are really nice works, and I've enjoyed my time with them.

The last two concerti are big works from his "Heroic" period. The fifth concerto, nicknamed the "Emperor," has some orchestral dance parts to it which makes a lot of the work memorable after just one hearing. It is the longest work, dating from the years 1808 to 1810. (If you include an unpublished concerto from his youth, this is actually his sixth piano concerto.) The name is misleading, as some have thought it refers to Napoleon, but in fact at the time of composition Austria was at war with France. What sounds to me like dance is actually inspired by military marches, and trumpet fanfares.

I'm coming to the end of Beethoven works in my collection; there are a few choral works (which I'm saving for last) as well as violin works (which I'm studying next), which include a pair of Romances and a violin concerto.

Beethoven Trios, Plus a Bit More on Quartets

2009-04-24T18:43:00.002-04:00

Even early in Beethoven's compositional years, (from his move to Vienna in 1792 he was known less as a composer and more as a piano virtuoso, where he sometimes wrecked the poor mostly wood pianos of the days with his thunderous playing) he was able to pull in some nice money with his compositions. For example, his Op. 9 string trios, numbered 1-3, pulled down an advance of 50 ducats from the publisher, Johan Traeg. For comparison, this was about the cost of a grand piano at that time.

The CD in my collection of these trios is performed by the Kandinsky Trio. I've found the combo of string trio to be easier to follow and understand that the quartet (at least, Beethoven's, especially his late ones), even though these trios were composed just a bit before the first Op. 18 quartets. My favorite of the three is the third trio in C minor - which tracks evenly with my preference for minor mode compositions (Hey Mom, do we have gypsy blood in our pedigree?).

Listening again to Robert Greenberg's Great Masters:Beethoven - His Life and Music from The Teaching Company, I was reminded of the pressure Beethoven faced when composing his first quartets. The string quartet was considered a very serious compositional challenge, and was to chamber music what the symphony was for orchestral music. In addition, he had the long shadows of Mozart and the still living creator of the string quartet, Joseph Haydn, looming over his back. His quartets would be compared to these two greats. How would the avante-garde Beethoven assert his style, and yet stay at least somewhat close to the form laid down for all time by Haydn? With various compositional details throughout all these first "Early" quartets Beethoven's style shows up to those who look beneath the surface - for, on the surface, these sound Haydnesque. However, on the sixth quartet, Beethoven stuck in an "extra" movement, entitled La Malinconia.

So, with the understanding that the string quartet has the highest standing in the classical era oeuvre of chamber music, some other combos were composed for amateur. One such combo was the piano trio. The first works that Beethoven had published, his Opus 1, was a set of piano trios. They were debuted at a private salon, with Haydn in the audience. These were not trios for amateurs, unless they were very accomplished players. Haydn was said to be pleased with them, though he thought such complexity should be saved for a string quartet.

Sadly, I don't have a copy of those first piano trios. But they have moved to the top of my "wish" list.

The recording I do have of piano trios is a re-release a 1970 recording, and it features Daniel Barenboim on piano, Pinchas Zukerman on violin, and Jacqueline du Pre on cello. The published work of two trios were labeled Op. 70, but they were the fourth and fifth piano trios Beethoven wrote (again among published works). (The first three were Op. 1). No. 4 in D is subtitled "Ghost", apparently a reference to a phrase in the second movement Beethoven contemplated for setting the Witches' scene from Macbeth. In three movements, the first leaps out at you at the beginning of the opening movement. These bursts are interlaced with some wonderfully lyric music coming from all three instruments. Trio No. 5 has four movements, and I need to spend some time with it to get it into my musical memory databank.

There is also a piano trio from around 1791, predating Beethoven's move to Vienna, that is listed as WoO. 38, where WoO stands for Werk ahne Opuszahl or "Work without an opus number." It is thus designated because it was not published during Beethoven's lifetime. Perhaps this would really be piano trio number one?

Tacked on to the second CD, which leads off with WoO. 38, are two cello sonatas recorded in 1965, with Stephan Kovacevich on piano and Jacqueline du Pre on cello. These are beautiful pieces, with which I want to spend more time as well. du Pre has a special place in my collection which contains her recordings (so what is this recording doing in the Beethoven section? gotta think about that), and though I don't know much about her, there is apparently a special story to her life, which has led to a movie, books, and the like.

Next up are Beethoven's five piano concerti. I'm a bit jazzed at the idea of moving over to some orchestral music.

Incidentally, you've heard me carry on about Robert Greenberg on this blog. If you'd like to spend a pleasant hour, he gave a talk to the Chautauqua Institution, and fora.tv has posted it here. He's really great, and this talk is typical of his teaching style.

Beethoven's String Quartets Part 3

2009-04-15T09:18:00.006-04:00

Rounding out my exploration of Beethoven's string quartets, I've been listening to the last two CD's in the collection of Late String Quartets performed by the Guarneri Quartet. This includes (in order of the recording) Opp. 131, 127, 130, 135.

Op. 131 in C-sharp Minor is seven movements long, busting the standard number of Mozart and Haydn of four. I don't know how many times I tried to listen to this quartet, but it must have been dozens. Like an earlier quartet, it just put me to sleep. I did get one full listen-through and found that I did like it, especially the second movement, but, otherwise, it just didn't stick.

In fact, none of them really stuck in my head.

I did find Op. 127 pretty uplifting. Makes pretty nice patterns in my Windows Media Player, too. It contains only four movements, with the last movement recorded on the third and last CD (seven movements take up a lot of space).

Next is Op. 130, which is six movements long. The Grosse Fugue (Op. 133, written about in the last entry) was originally the last movement of Op. 130 (Quartet No. 13). This is another work which has a full sound, which appeals to symphony lovers like myself.

Finally, there's Op. 135, Quartet No. 16. At only four movements, we find Beethoven coming back to the standard number of movements. This is probably my favorite of the Late Quartets. With my limited knowledge of chamber music, this work sounds more like I expect to hear from a string quartet. I've found it on YouTube, performed by the Hagen Quartet, and embedded it below.

I've begun listening to trios:piano trios and string trios. This should prove to be a nice warm-up for tackling Beethoven's 32 piano sonatas. For that, at least, I'll have Robert Greenberg to help me.

Beethoven's String Quartets, Part 2

2009-04-03T12:02:00.006-04:00

After the Razumovsky quartets, there are two more that are considered as "middle" quartets.

The "Harp" quartet, Op. 74 in E flat major, is so named due to the use of pizzicato throughout the piece. Pizzicato is a technique where a string player, rather than bow the instrument, plucks the strings instead. I have to be very honest about this work: my experience of it is quite low, as it always puts me to sleep. I'm not sure what it is about this work that has such an effect on me, but it occurs in every movement. In trying to get to know it, I've tried starting each movement separately, but I go to night-night land each time. Sorry, but the blog is about experiences in encountering the music. This quartet puts me to sleep.

The last of the "middle" quartets is Op. 95, the so-called "Quartetto Serioso." As implied by the name, this quartet starts off in a very serious tone in F-minor. The notes that come with the CD collection calls these phrases "violent abruptions." In between these (in the first movement) there are explorations of themes, an occasional silence, and quiet, sometimes major mode variations. The second movement is more lyric. The third movement is a bit more agitated (marked serioso). The fourth begins with a "larghetto expressivo" that transitions to another agitated section that jumps into an ending allegro.

What's interesting about this quartet is how, at times, it seems like there are more than four performers. Beethoven is able to get a full sound, a kind of sound you would expect from a larger ensemble.

The "late"quartets consists of Ops. 127, 130, 131-133, and 135. The CD collection I've got is performances by the Guarneri Quartet.So far I've had a chance to really hear only Op. 132, a quartet in A minor, and the single movement Grosse Fugue. I found a performance of the quartet by the Alban Berg Quartet on YouTube in two parts, embedded below.

If you have listened to the Grosse Fugue performances, you've probably noticed the many dissonant passages. Many of Beethoven's contemporaries were very critical of the piece. To me, it sounds like the music that was written a century later.

The CD collection I have does not have the works played in numerical order, and the first CD contains the Op. 132 Quartet in A minor (as well as the Grosse Fugue). What struck me about the Opus 132 is the beautiful third movement.

The last two CD's contain the rest of the quartets, on which I will next concentrate.

Beethoven's String Quartets, Part 1

2009-01-29T15:52:00.004-05:00

I've heard it is bad form to start a presentation (so, by extension, a blog entry) with a caveat, but in this case it is part of the info, so I'm just going to go for it. When it comes to Beethoven's music, some musicologists divide his works into three periods. These are named, simply enough, Early, Middle, and Late periods.

I've seen this designation only in reference to his string quartets, but there are doubtless other places where it is used. The caveat, here, is that the dividing lines between these periods have works crossing over from one to the other. The periods have to do with Beethoven's growth and development, which seems to align with the musical styles of the various periods' works.

The difference between the Early and Middle compositional styles is quite stark and unmistakable.

The early quartets consist of one opus, Op. 18, but it contains six quartets. Only this, and his next set, the Razumovsky Quartets of Op. 59, contain multiple works published under one number. The remaining works, which are quite complex, are single works under a single opus number.

First, let me address the Early work, Op. 18, Nos. 1-6. The recording I have is of the Tokyo String Quartet. The quartets, on the surface, sound much like works of Mozart or Haydn, though I have seen references to how these quartets "stretch" the boundaries of Classical form. They are quite pleasant in much the same way as those of Classical composers, with emotional restraint and sticking to recognized forms.

The Op. 59 quartets were commissioned by a Count Razumovsky, who was the Russian ambassador to Austria and a patron of Beethoven. These three quartets sound like they come from a different composer in a different era. It is said that when the Count's standing quartet first played them, they thought Beethoven was playing a joke. These quartets completely abandon the Classical style, with an expression of emotion that sounds pre-Romantic. For example, the first movement of the first quartet have a sense of motion to them, motion that serves as a dialog amongst the strings. There was probably nothing that sounded like them anywhere up to that time, and must have been considered avante-garde, if not somewhat confusing.

The difference between these two sets of quartets is striking, though not shocking to modern ears two hundred years later. Between the two sets, I prefer the Op. 59, though I admit fondness for both.

There are two more quartets that are considered "middle" quartets, followed by a handful of "late" quartets, which I will cover next.

Beethoven's Symphony 9 in D Minor (Choral) Op. 125

2009-01-18T15:53:00.003-05:00

I've written how Beethoven brought to western music the idea that musical compositions should be vehicles of self-expression. Musical forms are used when they serve that purpose, or altered when they did not.

Called the most important and significant musical work of the 19th century, Beethoven completed his ninth symphony more than a decade after his popular eighth symphony. By this time, he was completely deaf in one ear, and was clinically deaf. But the genesis of this work went back all the way to the late 18th century, when he toyed with the idea of setting the poem An die Freude ("Ode to Joy"). The poem shows up from time to time in his journals. These dates come from Robert Greenberg, who tells us that it was the 1803 version of the poem that is finally used.

But, to start off, the first three movements portray the conflict between the tragic key of D minor, and the heroic theme of B-flat major. D major will also play a role as well. Beethoven will use themes from earlier movements as part of the the development section of later movements. This is especially true for the fourth movement.

While it is the fourth movement is the most famous, an appreciation of the earlier movements enhance enjoyment of the last. The first movement is a very large piece of music. It begins with the playing of two notes that could be the notes to either a major or minor chord, hence there's an ambiguity asto what key is being played. Soon, however, the key conflicts begin between major and minor keys. During this movement, a hint of the Ode to Joy will be played.

The second movement begins as the first one ends, in D minor. In this scherzo, the time signature will change in the trio section.

The third movement has some of the most beautiful, lyrical music in all of Beethoven's symphonies. It just gets shadowed by the fourth movement.

The fourth movement has a bit of drama. A loud, crashing dissonance is followed by a "hero" who comes in on the low strings. A series of themes from earlier movements follow, interspersed by rejection of the "hero". It isn't until the orchestra suggests the Ode to Joy (in German, Freude) that the hero finds a desirable theme. But the hero gets cut off by the repeat of the opening crash. Once played, there's a brief pause until a baritone barks out "Freude!, and begins to sing part of the poem. The theme gets a lot of play, as Beethoven sets nine of the eighteen stanzas of the ode. There is a chorus, which from here on out sings along with the orchestra.

Having a chorus in a symphony was new to western music, and forever cemented the principle that music should be self-expressive. If a chorus is needed to make a musical statement, then one is included. (Later composers, such as Gustav Mahler, would also use a chorus).

Listening to this work over the last week, I finally found myself understanding just what Beethoven was trying to put to music. What started out as a back-and-forth winds and low strings in the last movement became an expression of emotion that I can't quite name. Perhaps one part is the struggle Beethoven suffered having lost his hearing, while having his life-role being a composer. But a complex piece like this lends itself to discovery with each playing.

At the end of the premier of the symphony, the audience jumped to its feet and roared its approval. As Beethoven had been sitting in a part of the theater with his back to the audience, he had no idea of the ovation for his work. Someone had to turn him around so he could see the crowd.

Beethoven in "Peanuts"

2009-01-14T23:53:00.003-05:00

Since we are on a Beethoven theme, I thought this article in the New York Times would be appropriate.

SANTA ROSA, Calif. — In a “Peanuts” strip from the mid-1950s, Charlie Brown walks through the first panel and finds Schroeder sitting in front of an adult-size hi-fi, his ear to the speaker. “Shh,” Schroeder says, “I’m listening to Beethoven’s Ninth.” Charlie Brown inspects Schroeder’s outfit. “In an overcoat?” he asks. Schroeder leans even closer to the speaker and responds, “The first movement was so beautiful it gave me the chills!”

In the world of “Peanuts,” of course, Schroeder was the Beethoven-obsessed music nerd who lost patience when Lucy interrupted his practice and who called time-outs as a baseball catcher to share composer trivia with the pitcher. Yet musicologists and art curators have learned that there was much more than a punch line to Charles Schulz’s invocation of Beethoven’s music.

“If you don’t read music and you can’t identify the music in the strips, then you lose out on some of the meaning,” said William Meredith, the director of the Ira F. Brilliant Center for Beethoven Studies at San Jose State University, who has studied hundreds of Beethoven-themed “Peanuts” strips.

When Schroeder pounded on his piano, his eyes clenched in a trance, the notes floating above his head were no random ink spots dropped into the key of G. Schulz carefully chose each snatch of music he drew and transcribed the notes from the score. More than an illustration, the music was a soundtrack to the strip, introducing the characters’ state of emotion, prompting one of them to ask a question or punctuating an interaction.

“The music is a character in the strip as much as the people are, because the music sets the tone,” Mr. Meredith said. To understand what gave Schroeder chills, he said, you have to listen to the musical passage. “When you actually hear the symphony, the whole thing feels completely different.”

That linkage is the central theme of “Schulz’s Beethoven: Schroeder’s Muse,” an exhibition at the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center here, which was jointly organized with the Beethoven center. (It continues through Jan. 26 at the museum and will reopen on May 1 at the center in San Jose.)

Mr. Meredith spent more than a year identifying the compositions, gathering recordings and reinterpreting the strips; Jane O’Cain, the museum’s curator, researched Schulz’s artistic process and music-listening habits.

In the resulting show visitors can gaze upon the Beethoven strips, then tap a number into their audio guide and hear the music Schroeder is playing.

In a strip from 1953 Schroeder embarks on an intensive workout. He does push-ups, jumps rope, lifts weights, touches his toes, does sit-ups (“Puff, Puff”), boxes, runs (“Pant, Pant”) and finally eats (“Chomp! Chomp!”). In the last two panels he walks to his piano with determination and begins playing furiously, sweat springing from his brow.

The eighth notes above Schroeder’s head are from the opening bars of Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier” Sonata (Op. 106), a piece so long, artistically complex and technically difficult that it is referred to as the “Giant” Sonata. When Beethoven delivered it to the publisher in 1819, he is believed to have said, “Now you will have a sonata that will keep the pianists busy when it is played 50 years from now.”

According to the exhibition notes, classical music was as much a priority for Mr. Schulz as drawing was when he attended art school in the 1940s. He once said of his classmates, “We all collected classical albums, which we frequently shared on evenings when we got together to listen to music and challenge each other in wild games of hearts.”

Sue Broadwell, who worked as Schulz’s secretary from 1963 to 1967, said he played classical and other records — “he had a weakness for country western,” she said — in his studio while he worked. “He encouraged me to take a music appreciation course, which I did,” she said. “Every once in a while, as I was learning different pieces, he’d whistle some for me and I had to guess them.”

Mr. Schulz also regularly attended classical music concerts here with his family.

“He could sit almost perfectly still the whole time, without squirming, without crossing his legs,” said Jeannie Schulz, the cartoonist’s widow, who helped found the museum and serves as president of its board.

During concerts, she said, “he would pull a notebook out of his breast pocket and write something down,” adding: “Later in the car, he would say, ‘How would it be if Marcie and Peppermint Patty were at a concert, and ...’ He was always thinking about his characters.”

Although Schulz greatly admired Beethoven, his favorite composer was actually Brahms. He simply found that the name Beethoven — the way it sounded and the way it looked on the page — was funnier, the exhibition notes remark.

Accuracy and authenticity are hallmarks of the strips, whether they deal with music, sports or medical conditions, Ms. O’Cain, the museum’s curator, said. “With figure skating, he would carefully study books to make sure the jumps or spins that he had characters portraying, that they were correct,” she said. He would add subtle twists or inside jokes for readers familiar with skating or surfing or shorthand.

Mr. Schulz also mined Beethoven’s life for material. He had numerous books in which he underlined details about Beethoven’s love life, clothing, even his favorite recipe (macaroni with cheese).

“I have read several biographies of Beethoven — being strangely fascinated by the lives of composers, much more so than the lives of painters,” he said in 1975. As a result, Schulz fans like to point out, the strips are as educational as they are entertaining.

“What you thought was a funny tagline was an absolutely true story out of Beethoven’s life,” said Karen Johnson, the Schulz museum’s director.

Beethoven’s birthday was a perennial “Peanuts” event. Schroeder appeared in “Peanuts” for 49 years, and the composer’s birthday was acknowledged in 27 of them. Sometime in the 1960s Mr. Schulz hosted a real-life birthday party for Beethoven in his home in Northern California, according to Ms. O’Cain’s curatorial research. He drew Beethoven sweatshirts for each of the guests, two of which have been tracked down. One with the composer’s portrait is in the show.

The other, owned by Lee Mendelson, the producer of the Peanuts animated specials, features a full-body drawing of Beethoven — in a Schroeder sweatshirt.

Beethoven Symphonies Nos. 7 & 8

2009-01-10T19:27:00.002-05:00

While Beethoven's life was in an emotionally downward spiral, 1813-1814 saw him see his greatest popularity, due to some patriotic music.

The piece is entitled Wellington's Victory. In the work, you can hear the British troops marching to a drum cadence and patriotic music. Then, the French army follows suit. What follows is a lot of booming and banging which is supposed to represent the cannon and gunfire.

What made this such a hip piece was that Wellington beat the French in Spanish Victoria, and the French, under Napoleon, had been a bit of a bother to the Austrians. Everybody who was anybody played in the orchestra and percussion, and apparently a great time was had by all.

That same evening saw the premiere of Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92. Perhaps because the seventh is such a movin'-and-groovin' work, it came to be associated with Wellington's Victory.

Robert Greenberg, who has been my guide through Beethoven's symphonies, posits that this is a dance symphony, and after dozens of time listening to it, I found myself tapping my foot every time. There is, however, a slower movement, movement two. This movement became so popular that it was occasionally inserted into his other symphonies in performance.

Symphony No. 8 has its own bit of fun. It seems that a certain Johann Nepomuk Malzel (who was a sort of co-writer of Wellington's Victory) invented the pendulum powered metronome and presented Beethoven with one. Though I've played a few instruments in my past, I've never used a metronome. However, Greenberg insists it is a kind of torture vehicle. In any event, the second movement of the eighth symphony is a play on this device, where we hear the device being wound up, ticking, and then coming to a stop; wound again, and, hmm, it seems to be broken. In the end we hear the poor device destroyed, tossed, pounce upon, folded, spindled, and mutilated.

The Eighth also includes a minuet and trio, something he hasn't really composed since his first symphony. This occurs as the third movement.

I've heard from a number of music lovers that Beethoven's Eighth is their particular favorite, and it is a great work. For Beethoven, he didn't write another symphony for a very long time. That work, Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125, would turn out to be a doozy, which Greenberg states is the most important work since Monteverdi's Orfeo, of the entire 19th century, and with nothing being as altering of the art form as Stravinsky's Rite of Spring in 1912. It's a long work, and that's what I'll be working on next.

Beethoven Symphony No. 4 in B-flat Major, Op. 60

2009-01-04T17:08:00.002-05:00

As Beethoven was putting the final touches to his Symphony No. 5 at the country estate of a patron, he received a commission to compose a symphony "in the style of Symphony No. 2." He considered just dedicating his fifth to his new patron, but he had already shown much of it to his host. So, he decided to halt his work on the fifth and start a new work for Count Oppersdorff. Essentially, the fourth and fifth symphonies were composed concurrently, with the bulk of the fifth completed before work on the fourth began.

Robert Greenberg dedicates a full four lectures to this symphony, claiming it does not get the performance or air play that it deserves. After spending a few weeks with the work, as well as his lectures, I have to agree.

The symphony starts with a quiet, mysterious introduction that gives no hint to what is about to follow. Theme one then comes out like a shot, starting with a "masculine" melody followed by a less enthusiastic, "feminine" scale, a combination often heard in the classical works of Mozart and Haydn. This is followed by a "theme group" which is essentially two additional themes, the second of which I find the most pleasing. There are also measures featuring clarinet and bassoon. Greenberg finds the bassoon part to be a bit humorous, but he seems to feel that way about the bassoon in general.

The trio in the third movement evokes the sounds of a rustic, village band, much like the one heard in his sixth symphony.

There are other Classical period-style passages to the symphony, however Beethoven twists and bends them to fit the self-expression mantra he began in his third symphony. Other Romantic era composers, such as Brahms, will follow in Beethoven's tracks, using Classical forms and techniques to the extent they serve the purpose of the composer's intent.

It's a great symphony, and Greenberg points out that, had anyone else written it, it would be considered one of that composer's masterworks. But it gets overshadowed by the fifth, sixth, and ninth symphonies to a great extent, as well as to a minor extent of the post-third symphony era. There's a lot in the symphony, which is why I've spent so much time with it before blogging.

Speaking of which, if I keep going at the rate I'm going I'll never get through the collection. I hope to speed things up in the future. In the meantime, search out a copy of Beethoven's Fourth; it is a fun work. I'm sure Count Oppersdorff was pleased.

Beethoven Symphonies Nos. 2 & 3

2008-12-03T19:12:00.005-05:00

(I've finished this entry...scroll down to read the rest)

It's fairly well known that Beethoven was deaf. However, total deafness did not hit the composer until at least after 1812, as has been attested by people who knew him at the time. Until that, his deafness was not an every day affair, as some days he would be able to hear well, and some not at all. However, by 1802, it was becoming clear that he was gradually losing his hearing, and there seemed to be nothing anyone could do about it.

In that year, along with Symphony No.2 in D Major Op., Op 36, Beethoven also composed a complex letter that has become known as the Heiligenstatd Testament. (A little more can be learned here.) In the document, which was a sort of last will, suicide note, and rave against God, Beethoven begins, "O you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me, you do not know the secret causes of my seeming, from childhood my heart and mind were disposed to the gentle feelings of good will, I was even ever eager to accomplish great deeds, but reflect now that for six years I have been a hopeless case, aggravated by senseless physicians, cheated year after year in the hope of improvement, finally compelled to face the prospect of a lasting malady (whose cure will take years or, perhaps, be impossible), born with an ardent and lively temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was compelled early to isolate myself, to live in loneliness, when I at times tried to forget all this, O how harshly was I repulsed by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing, and yet it was impossible for me to say to men speak louder, shout, for I am deaf." The document was found among his papers after he died in 1827, so he managed to keep it secret during that time. (The links above provide a full translation of the letter).

Though Beethoven was expressing his grief and rage, the letter may have served as a kind of catharsis, for it was also in 1802 when he composed is Second Symphony. Having spent some time with this work lately, I wonder if Beethoven was one of those people who suffer from terrible depression and yet create cutting and hilarious comedy. The symphony is bright, joyful, and even a bit playful.

According to Robert Greenberg, it has been fairly well accepted that the fourth movement is a musical depiction of Beethoven's gastrointestinal maladies. There are themes which take on the cadence of belches, burps, growls, and flatulence. Once you understand this, the movement (pardon the pun) is pretty funny.

It takes a strong personality to rave against God and yet turn your tummy sounds into an enjoyable piece of art.

The Third Symphony in E Flat Major, Op. 55, according to Greenberg, was initially entitled "Bonaparte", however, Beethoven removed the dedication in disgust when Napoleon declared himself emperor. Further, the same source tells us that it was this symphony was a breakaway piece, not only for Beethoven but for the Western music repertoire.

The music of the Classical Period (think Haydn and Mozart) emphasized clean, clear melodies with emotional restraint. The forms of this period (the string quartet was born, and the symphony's form was "finalized") dictated the music. Not to disparage the music of this time, but a concert-goer could usually rely on following the music with a knowledge of these musical forms.

With the third, Beethoven broke the mold, on many levels. Nicknamed the "Eroica" (for Heroic, not Erotic as I first thought), the symphony opens with themes which describe the struggles of the hero (Beethoven himself, battling deafness?), with the first movement ending in triumph. The second movement is a funeral march. The third movement is meant as a rebirth. The fourth and final movement...well, it is a bit of an enigma. It contains a fair amount of humor, sweetness, and light that doesn't seem to fit the title "Eroica".

But as to those broken molds; with this symphony, Beethoven ushers in the beginnings of the Romantic era, stressing that music should be about self-expression (and hoping the audience shares the emotions). Now, form can be bent and molded to fit the needs of the composer. The work is a bit longer than was the custom of the time, though Beethoven will write even longer symphonies in the future.

For another example, in the Classical symphonic form, the first movement would be the longest and most complex, the second movement slow and lyrical, the third movement a dance form (minuet and trio, so actually a couple of dances), and then finally a fast fourth movement to send the audience home humming closing themes. Beethoven has replaced the minuet and trio with a scherzo (something he actually did in his Second Symphony). Most of his symphonies will no longer have a slow movement, though he will have one in his Ninth (which breaks down so many walls anyway).

All this was written at a time when Beethoven was suffering depression and anger over his impending hearing loss. It seems that, when the going gets rough, Beethoven gets bright in his compositions.

(Note: Monday, December 22 of this year marks the bicentennial of the debut of Beethoven's Fifth and Sixth Symphonies (along with a handful of other works). So, pull out those CD's and give them a listen. I've already written about that evening and those two symphonies, check that out. Also, since I've already blogged about them, I will write about the Fourth and then skip to the Seventh.)

Beethoven Symphony No. 1

2008-11-28T19:00:00.002-05:00

Along with using Robert Greenberg's course Symphonies of Beethoven, I will be using a boxed set of Beethoven's symphonies conducted by Leonard Bernstein (unless other wise noted).

In Beethoven's first symphony, No. 1 in C major Op. 21, you have to look under the surface elements of the work to detect original, new-to-the-classical-style motives and construction of themes. If you didn't have a guide to show you these hidden elements (as Greenberg does) you would think of the symphony as imitative of Haydn and Mozart. Certainly these two great symphonists cast a long shadow, under which Beethoven had to work in 1800, when he wrote his first.

Greenberg points this out in his two lectures on the first symphony. He makes comparisons between the introduction of Beethoven's First with Haydn's 88th, pointing out that these are example of French Overture, a style from the Baroque. The second movements of the First and of Mozart's 40th in G minor, K.550 are also compared.

On the other hand, Beethoven shows his talents for making big thematic statements with little motives of just a few notes. While this is heard blatantly in Beethoven's Fifth, it is an aspect of Beethoven's compositional style that it returns in other works, as well. In addition, he will also bring back, to some extent, motives and themes from earlier movements and transform them to new material in later movements. An example would be the way the second theme of movement one is built from motives heard in theme one.

I confess that I've paid little attention to Beethoven's First and Second symphonies, as from the Third onward his symphonies have more of a Romantic flavor, which is more to my own tastes. But I have enjoyed spending time listening to the First, as well as the Second, which I have just begun and will blog on next time.

Amy Beach

2008-11-25T13:49:00.005-05:00

Amy Marcy Cheney Beach (1867-1944) is the only woman composer in my collection. For some reason, women have not been considered composers of classical music. Even today, when symphonic music is written for movies, the composers seem to be predominately men. I ran across one of her recordings at a big box book/CD/DVD store, part of the American Classics series from recording label Naxos.

Reading from the DK Eyewitness Companions book entitled Classical Music, I find that she was quite the pianist. Having been listening to her Piano Concerto Op. 45, I'm remind of her contemporary pianist/composer Sergei Rachmaninov. In some ways the virtuosic playing distracts from the more lyrical themes, as in Rachmaninov's third piano concerto. According to the DK book, she could have made a living as a concert pianist, but her husband preferred that she stay home and compose. Her composition skills were self taught, reading Berlioz and copying out fugues from Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier.

DK also states that her key works were as follows: Gaelic Symphony, Op. 32; Piano Concerto, Op. 45; and Three Browning Songs, Op. 44. The Naxos recording I have includes the first two of these.

The first work, a piano concerto in C sharp minor, has some exciting passages, not the least of which when the piano first bursts from the first movement. There follows a series of rapid up-and-down-the-keyboard playing while the orchestra accompanies. The third movement, Largo, is where the listener will find the more lyric, beautiful music.

The second work, the so-called Gaelic Symphony in E minor (Op. 32), takes themes from Celtic folk music to weave a wonderful orchestral masterpiece. Written between 1894 and 1896, it premiered with the Boston Orchestra in 1896. The symphony, with its Celtic themes (and original themes that sound Irish), established Beach as the first woman composer of major orchestral works in the United States. It was with this symphony as well that she turned the attention of European to American music in general, and her work in particular.

A search for Beach's music on Amazon.com returns 111 entries, including solo piano, songs, sacred music, and chamber music.

Though not well known, she was a prolific composer. Many of her works can be found on modern recordings.

(Next comes Beethoven, and I will be starting with his symphonies. Along with concentrated listening, I will also be following Robert Greenberg's course Symphonies of Beethoven. I also have the course Beethoven's Piano Sonatas, also by Greenberg, which covers all 32 of those compositions. When I get to those, I will be following Greenberg as well.)

Baroque Guitar

2008-11-13T17:17:00.002-05:00

Record (or, more accurately CD) companies make recordings featuring artists and composers in a collection using performances that were made years, even decades ago. The Universal Music Group consists of the the labels Phillips, Decca, and Deutsche Grammophon. The Universal Classics pick and choose from among many recordings, and put them together with a unifying theme. Such a CD is the next in my collection, entitled Baroque Guitar.

With recordings going back as far as 1958, this collection includes works by Bach, Albinoni, Gaspar Sanz, Scarlatti, Handel, Ludovico Roncalli, Sylvius Leopold Weiss, and Vivaldi. It features a star-studded lineup of performers, including Andres Segovia, Pepe Romero, Narciso Yepes, John Williams, and more.

Segovia also arranged many of these works for guitar; he is particularly known for his arrangements of Bach. All but the last two works are for guitar solo or duet. These last two, a Guitar Concerto in D and a Mandolin Concerto in C - both composed by Vivaldi - are paired with the English Chamber Orchestra (for the guitar concerto) and the Pro Arte Chamber Orchestra.

As I was listening to this CD, I found track 8 to sound vaguely familiar. This work was composed by Gaspar Sanz, entitled Canarios from Suite Espanola. Doing a little digging, I discovered that the themes were used by Joaquín Rodrigo when he composed his Fantasia para un Gentihombre, in the fourth movement entitled, appropriately, Canario. Sanz created an guitar instruction book, from which Rodrigo apparently took inspiration on a number of Rodrigo's works.

One of the nice things about Universal Classics is that they are inexpensive. With low overhead in the use of previously recorded material, Universal is able to bring the works of famous performers to the market. They also provide a nice bundle for the occasional classical music listener. As shown in this CD, a person who just wants a recording of classical guitar music finds just the right thing at a very reasonable price.

Bela Bartok

2008-11-06T19:47:00.002-05:00

I'm skipping ahead slightly to cover two recordings in my collection of composer Bela Bartok. This will be a short entry, so I thought I'd write them up now while the music is still fresh in my ears.

The first CD features the Concerto for Orchestra along with Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta. Though I like the idea of a concerto for the entire orchestra, I can't say that Bartok's composition is to my taste. Atonal, dissonant music is really beyond my comprehension, despite Robert Greenberg's attempts at explaining it in his Teaching Company course How to Listen to and Understand Great Music. I can't distinguish between the themes and the bridges and the cadence material.

The second Bartok CD in my collection has piano concerti nos. 2 and 3, as well as Romanian Folkdances for Piano. There are some lyric passages in the adagio of the third concerto I like, and the folkdances are somewhat enjoyable. But overall, as in the first CD, the music leaves me cold and bewildered.

My wife would ask me, "Well, if you don't like the CD's, why do you keep them?" I remember a time when I hated (as well as failed to understand) opera, which is now among one of my favorite musical pastimes. I keep hoping that someone or something will explain music such as Bartok's in a way that I will appreciate it. So far, however, it's beyond my musical comprehension.

Balakirev and Rimsky-Korsakov Piano Concerti

2008-11-04T14:52:00.002-05:00

Taking a break from the Bach recordings, my next study has been of the piano concerti of Mili Balakirev and Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. The recording is part of a series entitled The Romantic Piano Concerto produced by Hyperion Records.

Balakirev was the leader of a group of self-taught composers known, in translation, as The Five or The Mighty Handful. Their purpose was to develop a distinctly Russian sounding music, apart from the German-based style which had dominated the 19th century.

Since Balakirev's name comes before Rimsky-Korsakov's, I filed this CD under "B" in my collection.

The recording, however, begins with Rimsky-Korsakov's Piano Concerto in C Sharp Minor, op. 30. This is a relative short concerto in three parts, taking just less than 14 1/2 minutes in length. This concerto takes its primary theme from a folksong collection published by Balakirev in 1866. The concerto itself was written in the 1882 to 1883 time frame. There is no separation between movements in this work; the next movement begins immediately at the end of the preceding movement. You can hear the change in the music, but I found I had to look at the CD player to determine where I was in my listening. This is a very lyrical work, with the piano and orchestra working together. The folksong theme is varied throughout the piece.

According to the liner notes, this concerto was influential to Rachmaninov when he wrote his first piano concerto less than ten years later.

There are actually two concerti by Balakirev on the CD. The first one is his first published, Op. 1, in F Sharp Minor. Coming in a 13 and 1/2 minutes, it consists of a single movement. It premiered in 1856, just one year after he was brought to St. Petersburg (where The Five resided) by a patron. Balakirev was influenced by Chopin, naming the latter's E minor concerto as a favorite. He never got around to add a second and third movement, as his attention was turned elsewhere. It wasn't until 1861 that he began work on another concerto, his number 2 in E Flat Major. This work also started out as a single movement; it wasn't until the 20th century that a second movement was added, beginning in 1906. Upon his death, only the first two movements were complete; a close associate, Sergei Liapunov, completed the concerto with a finale that was written along the lines of the composers wishes.

I would not say that this is among my favorite recordings. Though by and large I like the works of The Five (Borodin being my favorite), there aren't any great themes that reach out of the stereo and grab me. I would recommend the CD to anyone who collects the music of The Five, but, for myself, this is music in which I need to be in the mood.

Bach's Violin Concerti

2008-10-14T23:33:00.002-04:00

Since my last post I have been spending some time with Bach's Violin Concerti. So far, this music has taught me the importance of listening to a music work multiple times. This is especially true with Bach. There are some many things going on with those pieces that I think you would have to read a score or two in order to catch all the goodies.

I may have overdone it, however, because my ears are quite tired of listening to Bach. I go through phases of personal musical taste, and right now High Baroque isn't high on my list. I don't think this will affect my judgment of the recording, but, in case it does, or you don't agree, you can assume my attitude may be part of my problem.

The CD I have comes from the EMI Classics "Encore" collection, and features Itzhak Perlman and Pinchas Zukerman, with the English Chamber Orchestra conducted by Daniel Barenboim. I have another CD featuring the same works, with Hilary Hahn as the soloist, but I will cover that when I get to her set of recordings.

The reason there are two violinists for a recording of concerti is that one concerto is the Concerto in D Minor for Two Violins (on which Zuckerman performs).

After having gone through Greenberg's course on the High Baroque I'm beginning to understand peoples' love of Bach, and have had a glimpse into the intricacy of Bach's music. There's just more there each time we listen. What's more, to really appreciated to have to sit and listen, not have it on while doing the laundry. Having someone like Greenberg point out the special parts on the pieces helps tremendously.

For example, in one of the concerti (perhaps in all of them) the main theme is played, and repeated, with the soloist and orchestra performing the theme. In the development section, the orchestra starts to play the theme when the solo violin interrupts to play an embellishment, then hands the music back to the orchestra, which picks up the theme from where it was at the time it was interrupted. After playing part of the theme, in comes the violinist again, and entire movements are played this way.

With the help of Greenberg I can at least hear some of the alchemy Bach has conjured up in these concerti (for some reason, Bach wrote only three violin concerti - is that right? someone correct me in the comments if need be). So I guess I'll be coming back to these again and again, as I hear more each time I listen. Isn't that a sign that a music is exceptional? Because you have to listen, rather than wash dishes, to really understand Bach,at least in some of his pieces, like these concerti.

Though I have more Bach to explore, I'm going to skip ahead to another composer for awhile. But I still have the Well Tempered Clavier to listen through, which is quite a lot of material. But, not to worry, I get back to Bach soon.

Goldberg Variations - Part 2

2008-09-15T11:48:00.002-04:00

Next up is a harpsichord recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations. I blogged a bit on them in my last post.

To my surprise, I found that the harpsichord version is more soothing. I can easily imagine someone whiling away their insomniac hours listening to these. This isn't meant as a put-down of Gould's interpretation; it's just I find, in this case (and it isn't the usual case), the harpsichord more relaxing.

Part of that comes from understanding the music and its structure. Without that, it's just a stream of keyboard music.

The version I heard is from Forces of Virtue Records, a recording by David Schrader. Forces of Virtue appears to be a small label that specializes in early and experimental music.

As I said, I'm not generally a fan of the harpsichord, but I really do like this CD. After hearing Gould's two interpretations (fast in 1955 and slower and 1981), I find that Schrader takes the middle ground in tempo, which I feel must be closer to what Bach intended. Since Gould's recordings are considered standard for collectors, I think that Schrader's version should also be included, to round out interpretations of these variations.

Goldberg Variations: A State of Wonder

2008-08-27T17:27:00.005-04:00

Next on the list is the Goldberg Variations of Johann Sebastian Bach. I want to emphasize the recordings on piano of this work by Glenn Gould, on a set of discs entitled Glenn Gould: A State of Wonder. This set includes Gould's original recording of 1955 as well as his later recoding of 1981. The set also includes an additional disc which has an interview with Gould conducted by music critic Tim Page, plus some studio outtakes.

According to Robert Greenberg in his Teaching Company course Bach and the High Baroque, the variations were written for a nobleman who employed a harpsichord player named Theophilius Goldberg. This gentleman suffered from illness and insomnia, and would have Goldberg play for him when he couldn't sleep. As payment, Bach was given a golden goblet filled with a hundred "Louis d'Or" worth around $200,000 in today's currency.

The set includes two "arias" as Bach called them, which are identical movements which introduce the theme to be developed in the thirty other movements, so that there are thirty variations and thirty-two movements in all. The thirty variations are collected in a set of ten cycles or "Trinities." Each cycle, except the last one, has first a movement called by Greenberg "character" pieces, usually a dance of some sort, movements intended for the body. The second movements are toccatas, fast movements for the fingers. For cycles 2 through 9, the third movements are canons (similar to a round, as in "Row, Row, Row Your Boat"), with the voices that follow the lead begin on different intervals. On the tenth cycle, the third movement (variation 30) a quodlibet is played, rather than a canon. This is a medley of popular songs, which were a standard at Bach family gatherings.

The 1955 recording is considered a masterpiece, as is the 1981. They are different, however, in performance, with the later recording taking almost twenty minutes longer than the former. Each variation includes repeats of the themes, however in the 1955 performance Gould did not play the repeats. In addition, the 1955 recordings were played much, much faster than they were in 1981. Also, in 1981 Gould played the repeats, and thus the performance takes longer.

While piano recordings of Bach's works are not unusual, Bach himself wrote mostly for the organ and the harpsichord, and you can find recordings of his works using these instruments. In fact, a recording of the Goldbergs played on harpsichord is what I plan to study next.

As I've indicated in earlier entries, I often play bits of classical music to ease me to sleep at night. However, on Gould's recordings, at least, some of the variations are too fast and too loud to be comforting enough to play the role of the lullaby. I'm not sure this was the intent of Bach when he wrote them. I should learn more when I listen to a harpsichord recording of the variations.

I should point out that I don't own a lot of Bach. I think my ears are just too unwashed to gush over Bach as his followers do. For over seventy years after Bach's death, his music wasn't played all that much, as the style we now call Classical was in vogue. In the book Classical Music by Phil G. Goulding, the author puts Bach at the top of a list of the fifty greatest composers, and lists him as one of only three "Immortals" (the other two being, in order, Mozart and Beethoven). My tastes tend more towards the Romantics, but I've found the Goldbergs to be intellectually stimulating, with the cycles within cycles (I've left a bunch of stuff out here).

Bach's Brandenburg Concerti

2008-08-02T15:26:00.002-04:00

Not as much of a delay as usual for this post; when building my CD classical music library, Johann Sebastian Bach's Brandenburg Concerti were among the first acquired.

Since the Wikipedia entry for the pieces does such a good job of providing a simple, concise history (and even sound files) I will just mention that the recording I have features the Bath Festival Orchestra under the direction of Yehudi Menuhin.

My personal experience with the Brandenburgs began with my earliest explorations of classical music, during my years in college. The notion of various styles occurring during certain periods was not yet clear for me; mostly I heard one of the concerti on the radio, and went to a Half Priced Bookstore in Corpus Christi and found a copy featuring Wendy Carlos playing a synthesizer (a roommate later told me she used to be Walter Carlos). Though I couldn't say why, I liked the album very much.

Over the years, my affinity for Baroque music cycles from waxing to waning and then back again, and it is the Brandenburgs that typically lead the way.

I might add that the beginning of the first movement of the Fifth Concerto is the music that introduces lectures in the audio versions of Teaching Company courses.

C.P.E. Bach - Two Recordings

2008-07-28T14:57:00.002-04:00

I've been listening to two recordings of symphonies and concerti by Carl Phillip Emanuel Bach, son of the more famous Johann Sebastian Bach.

These are the next two CD's in my collection, though I have added some more music of the Amadeus Guitar Duo which will have to wait awhile. Starting with C.P.E. Bach, I begin what will be a large portion of my collection, as I now enter the "B's"; this includes well known folks like Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, but also composers Bruckner, Bruch, and others.

But, onwards to CPE Bach.

The recording I've liked the best is performed by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment under the direction of Gustav Leonhardt, and features Anner Bylsma (Anner is a guy) on solo cello. This is a two CD collection, with five symphonies on CD 1 and three cello concerti on CD 2. This is but a small sampling of the works of CPE Bach (when you play and compose for Frederick the Great, I guess you are motivated). Each of the symphonies consist of three movements, rather than four which became the standard in later years.

I read somewhere that the younger Bach was a specialist in the pause, where, for a brief moment, the music just stops, right in the middle of the movement. This is pretty evident in these symphonies and concerti, and on a first listening, they come as a surprise (Hey, what happened? you say, thinking your CD player just died). Aside from getting your attention, it also serves as a neat and quick way to change keys.

The other recording consists of four flute concerti, two oboe concerti, and one solo for harp. This two CD set has a list of performers I leave for you to read at the Amazon site (cited here). It also includes a "solo" for oboe and continuo, carrying on the tradition that the continuo, (piano, harpsichord, even guitar or lute) is pretty much assumed and not worthy of mention. Each of the works here are three movement works, as on the previous recording.

This second recording has become a favorite nap or bedtime music, though some of the first movements start off with a bang. Here, too, you will find clever uses of rests.

It's been fun spending time with these recordings, but next up is CPE's daddy.

(For those of you in the know, should I include my PDQ Bach anthology in the blog? Leave a comment with your thoughts.)

Amadeus Guitar Duo

2008-06-22T13:14:00.002-04:00

I've been spending time listening to three recordings by the ensemble Amadeus Guitar Duo. This means there has been a lot of Spanish classical music wafting from my speakers lately. While I am a fan of such music, the review here is a result of the alphabet, as I'm going through my collection in alphabetical order.

The first two CD's I've had for awhile: Baroque Moments, and Images from the South. I just recently added Spanish Night, which is a recording of works by Joaquin Rodrigo.

The duo, based in Germany, consists of Dale Kavanagh from Canada and Thomas Kirchoff of Germany. They have been playing together since 1991. They live in Iserlohn, Germany (with a daughter, Melissa-Rachel) and teach at the Musikhochschule in Detmold (for those of you who understand German).

There aren't a lot of guitar duos out there, and music written especially for the ensemble doesn't seem too numerous. The duo handles this by making transcriptions of concerti and works originally written for other instruments.

Baroque Moments weighs in with the usual cast of Baroque composers: Handel, Vivaldi, and Bach. A short piece that ends the recording is a Choral written by Hans-Leo Hassler, who lived from 1564 to 1612, which gets him in under the wire of the year 1600, generally considered to be the beginning of the era. However, there is also a Prelude, Fugue and Variations composed by Cesar Franck, who lived from 1822 to 1890, thus placing him in almost the entire Romantic age.

Being somewhat of a fan of Romantic music, it come as no surprise that that the Franck work is my favorite of the collection. However, the duo has such a great, full sound that there isn't a wasted track to be found on this CD.

Images from the South refers to the music from the south of Europe, although the South American countries of Brazil and Venezuela are also featured. One piece is written by British composer Gerald Garcia, but it is based on Spanish melodies and so it counts as a "southern" composition. One work, entitled Surama, was composed by Alfonso Montes at the request of the duo. The CD notes say this is a play on words; Surama - Amasur, the Amadeus Guitar Duo goes south.

My most recent acquisition to the collection is the duo's Spanish Night. Along with Amadeus, the Eden-Stell Guitar Duo performs on the album. All of the works recorded are composed by Joaquin Rodrigo. They include the well known Concerto de Aranjuez with Dale Kavanagh as the soloist; Concerto Andaluz, which features both duos; and the Concerto Madrigal, featuring Amadeus. The orchestra for the recording is Internationale Philharmonie under the direction of Horst-Hans Backer.

Though I enjoy the multitude of voices that can be played on the classical guitar, my favorite of the three recordings has to be Spanish Night. I have to admit he is one of my favorite 20th century composers.

However, there is much to be said for the guitar ensemble.

Tomaso Albinoni (1671-1750)

2008-04-06T16:29:00.005-04:00

The next two CDs in my collection are recordings of concerti by Tomaso Albinoni. One is a two CD set containing the complete Op. 9 concerti, while the other contains one from Op. 9 and a handful from Op. 7. Both contain his most famous work, the Adagio in G minor for Organ and Strings.

The best info I could find on Albinoni in my text library comes from the DK Eyewitness Companions: Classical Music. Born just seven years before Vivaldi in Venice, Albinoni was a freelance composer and occasional performer and singer. His family owned a business manufacturing playing cards, which he inherited. However, to pursue a career in music, he left management of the family business in care of two younger brothers.

In all, he composed 55 operas and 59 concerti, in which he was the first to use the three movement format (fast-slow-fast) consistently. This became, for the most part, the standard format for concerti.

The Op. 9 concerti are composed of four sections of three works each; there are twelve in all. Each section begins with a concerto for violin, strings, and continuo, followed by a concerto for oboe, strings, and continuo. The final concerto is a work for two oboes, strings, and continuo.

From the CD I have, it appears that the Op. 7 concerti follow a similar pattern, though not exactly the same. It is difficult to tell, as not all of the Op. 7 works are included.

In living with this music over the last week, I've found that while all the works are lively and enjoyable, the repeated format and instrument combinations begin to blend into each other, and it becomes hard to separate one from the other in my mind. One notable exception in the Op. 9, No. 8 in G minor. Up to this point, there has been only one concerto in a minor mode (No. 2 in D minor), so No. 8 kinda jumps out at you. There's a fullness to the continuo that carries the work, above which the single oboe has an almost mezzo vocal sound to it.

Both recordings contain the famous Adagio for organ that I really, really dislike. After one pass through the recordings, I just skipped over it. While it certainly stands out from the concerti, it's more so like an elephant in the sitting room, awkward, and after a few hearings you wish it would just go away. I was pleased to learn that, though the work is attributed to Albinoni, it was in fact composed by Remo Giazotto in - are you ready for this? 1945! Only the baseline is Albinoni's.

Albeniz and Granados

2008-03-29T14:49:00.003-04:00

The first two CD's in my cabinet contain a suite of music entitled Iberia by the Spanish composer and pianist Isaac Albeniz. One of the CDs is a recording by Trio Campanella, a Scandanavian guitar trio, of Iberia transcribed for three guitars by Christophe Dejour, one of the members. The second CD is a two disc collection containing both Iberia as well as the Goyescas of Enrique Granados, both played on the piano (the original instrument for these works) by the famed pianist Alicia De Larrocha. Trio Campanella has also recorded the Goyescas, and so I'm going to talk about that disc as well.

Isaac Manuel Francisco Albeniz was born in 1860 in the northern Spanish town of Camprodon (according the the disc notes). A bit of a child prodigy, he performed in public for the first time at the age of four. As the years went by, he bounced around various conservatories, and in 1883 came under the tutelage of Felipe Pedrell, a specialist in Spanish music. Pedrell instilled in Albeniz the importance of writing Spanish music, based on native folk music and dances.

Albeniz toured Europe as a successful pianist, though his last years found him in Paris, where he composed Iberia in the years before his death in 1909.

Iberia is composed of four "books" of movements, twelve in all. Each is a kind of tone poem depicting Spanish locales (most in Andalusia). Taken as a whole, the suite is considered a masterwork of Spanish piano music. However, the transcription into a work for three guitars works quite well, and, for my own taste, this is the form which I prefer (not taking anything away from Ms. De Larrocha). I was surprised to learn that most of Albeniz music was written on and for the piano, as I have most often encountered it played on guitar (by such masters as Andres Segovia). Apparently guitar transcriptions of his music are not rare, and they play so well due to the music idiom and style associated with Spanish music.

(Incidently, Albeniz wrote an opera entitled Merlin, which has a very modern sound and I couldn't finish it.)

I suppose I could list all twelve movements and explain their contents, but I've found that, ignorant as I am of Spanish geography, not to mention Spanish culture, the explanations don't add to my enjoyment of the music; so, I'll only mention one or two.

I'm particularly drawn to the opening movement, "Evocacion." It has a dreamy, slightly dissonant sound, over which a melody which evokes the Spanish guitar (and hence sounds pretty neat when played by the trio). "El Corpus Christi en Sevilla" depicts a celebrational procession, starting out low, building to a frenzy, and then gets quiet in the distance as the procession passes. "Malaga" is a malaguena, written about an old Spanish town in the south.

The piano collection includes an additional work, entitled Navarra, that was to be the last movement in the suite, but Albeniz replaced it with "Jerez" (the town known as the center of sherry wine-making. Navarra was not complete when Albeniz died, so the last twenty-six bars were added by a friend, the composer Deodat de Severac.

Like one domino downing its neighbor in a long chain of clacks and stacks, I came upon Iberia through the Trio Campanella's recording of Goyescas by Enrique Granados (1867-1916). This recording was recommended by the fine folks at ArkivMusic.com, a great source for classical music recordings and DVDs. (If Arkiv doesn't have it, it probably doesn't exist.) In any event, the Goyescas led me to their recording of Iberia, which in turn led me De Larrocha's disc set. As luck would have it, Goyescas is also on that disc set.

Goyescas, subtitled "Los majos enamorados" (Young Men in Love), is inspired by the paintings of Francisco Goya (1746-1828). A quick Google did not net me any of the pictures on which the music is based (if a reader finds them, a comment with the location would be appreciated). What Granados found interesting was the way the paintings depicted the character of Spanish life.

This suite consists of two sets of movements. The first set consists of the sections entitled Flattery; Dialog at the Window; Fandango by Candlelight; and Lament, or the Young Man and the Nightingale. This last movement Granados dedicated to his wife.

The second set has two movements, entitled Love and Death; and Epilogue: The Ghost's Serenade.

Granados wrote other Goyescas not grouped or entitled such. Trio Campanella included one, El Pelele, as the final work on the disc. El pelele is a life-sized "straw man", and an image of women throwing a him up in the air from a bedsheet trampoline is on the cover of the CD.

Girl From Ipanema

2008-03-22T00:32:00.002-04:00

This song never gets old.

Night Music Collections

2007-12-17T16:16:00.000-05:00

Before diving into the music cabinet, I thought I'd start with an overview of some of the CD's that live on the night stand, and are used for late-night relaxing music.

The first CD I picked up for this purpose is entitled *Meditation - Music for Relaxation and Dreaming*. This is a Decca release, featuring such artists as Vladimir Ashkenazy, Sir Neville Marriner, Zubin Mehta, and others. It includes some of the more common pieces you find on this type of collection, such as Pachelbel's *Canon*, Barber's *Adagio for strings*, and the *Adagio* from Mozart's *Clarinet Concert in A major, K622* (as well as Mozart's *Andante* from his "Elvira Madigan" Piano Concerto No. 21).

A new work for me is entitled *Meditation*, from Jules Massenet's opera *Thais*. This is such a pretty piece that I had to find a DVD of the entire opera, which I'll discuss here someday (perhaps).

Naxos is a record label known for recordings of lesser-known works by lesser-known - but still talented! - artists and ensembles. The CD's tend to be a lot lower priced than those of the major labels. However, this has not stopped Naxos from winning Grammy's and similar awards. At one time they had a series entitled *Night Music*, a twenty CD set of "classical favorites for relaxing and dreaming." The series has changed titles, so that now they are named after music forms, such as "Prelude" and "Pastoral." I have two of the series, "Liebesleid" and "Rhapsody". The former contains an oft-recorded work of Rachmaninov's, *Vocalise*, this version recorded on piano and cello. The second CD has a part of his *Rhapsody on a Theme by Pagainini*, Variation 18, probably the best known of all the variations.

Naxos also has a wonderful CD entitled *Andante Cantabile - Romantic Music for Cello and Orchestra*. It opens with the Romance of Carl Stamitz's Cello Concerto No. 1. This recording, too, has a recording of *Vocalise*, this time with an orchestra. Not surprising, there is a movement from Antonin Dvorak's Cello Concerto in B minor. What does seem out of place is "Flight of the Bumblebee" by Rimsky-Korsakov. This has never struck me as a particularly romantic piece.

EMI has a series of "The Most Relaxing Piano/Guitar/etc. Album in the World...Ever!" These are two-CD sets. I often listen to the Piano recording, as well as the guitar recording when wanting to hear something different. For piano, Beethoven weighs in with the "Moonlight" and "Pathetique" sonatas, as well as "Fur Elise," and the adagio from the "Emperor" concerto. The Guitar recording starts the second CD off with Rodrigo's "Concerto de Aranjuez," the adagio second movement. This is a particular favorite of mine.

Aside from these anthologies, there are also recordings featuring individual performers or composers. I'll review these in my next entry.

Sing Sing Sing

2007-11-09T17:33:00.000-05:00

One of the best examples of Big Band Jazz. This is a shortened version of the tune for the movie. At full length it is a regular jam session. Gene Krupa on the drums gives the tune its drive and its energy. At the end he just goes full out and it is exciting to watch as well as to hear.

Art Blakey drum solo

2007-11-01T11:21:00.001-04:00

Wow! Isn’t YouTube great!?! For years I’ve wanted to be able to post actual music to this site and now I find that it is sooooo easy. Perhaps too easy. I’ll try not to overdo it.
But in the meantime, I thought this Art Blakey drum solo would be a good kickoff for this new video era at T&V. Enjoy!

Collection Project

2007-08-21T20:13:00.000-04:00

A lot of folks end up owning a lot of CDs, and I am one of them. If I was to listen to them one after the other, I don't know how long it would take, but I'm guessing months.

At some point I became more of a music collector than a music listener. I have a cabinet full of recordings I've only heard once (some not at all). There are perhaps a few CDs I enjoy now and again, so I'm more aware of them.

Nevertheless, I've got this big collection. Rather than add to it, my plan is to take them one at a time (in a sort of alphabetical order by artist/composer), spend some time with each of them to listen, really listen, and write blog entries about the music. I'll refer to outside sources (Teaching Company, books, internet) from time to time and share my findings there, too.

My first entry will be about the small bedroom collection for late night snoozing, both permanent members, and those CDs that are on temporary assignment.

Hilary Hahn and D Major Violin Concerti

2006-10-04T11:40:00.000-04:00

Recently I finished The Teaching Company's course The Concerto, taught by Robert Greenberg. In one of the lectures, (I wish I could remember which one) he mentioned that there are a lot of violin concerti written in the key of D major because that key has the most notes with open strings (not fingered) on the violin. Hence, those notes are the most resonant, and sound best. This got me looking through my music library, and, sure enough, D major shows up often.

This led me to sample the recordings of Hilary Hahn. I'd seen the recordings here and there, and I can't really say why I had not sampled them before. Maybe I had some sort of bias against teen phenoms. In any event, she has all grown up (I think she is 26 or 27 at this writing), and is a graceful as well as gorgeous figure on her CD pictures. She is also amazingly talented.

Because I love the music of Brahms so much, I started with her recording of his Opus 77, which also has a performance of Stravinsky's violin concerto, both in D major. For a few weeks I virtually lived listening to the Brahms, usually multiple times a day. It is an amazing piece, and has an interesting story about how it was composed. Hahn relates the story of how Brahms, at the age of 45, began composing the work, sending bits of it to his good friend Joseph Joachim, one of the most famous violinists of the 19th century. Over time, the two men worked on it, with Joachim offering suggestions to Brahms.

I need to point out that, in many (if not most) concerti, the composer leaves a space for a cadenza, which allows the performer to insert solo music that showcases his or her talents. In some cases, the cadenza is an improvisation. Mozart, when he performed his piano concerti, often improvised in his own works, and so we do not have his cadenzas (sadly). In other cases, the performer will compose a cadenza, sometimes working with the conductor of the orchestra with whom he will play the piece. These are written down, and modern performers have the option of choosing among them for a particular performance.

For this recording, Hahn has chosen to play Joachim's cadenza, which appears in the first movement and is quite enjoyable.

I'm not much of a fan of the dissonant sound that characterizes so much of 20th century music, but Igor Stravinsky wrote in various styles throughout his life (including scores for movies). His Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D is a quirky but charming work that does some interesting things with counterpoint along the lines of the music of Bach (but not as subtle). You hear a lot of brass as you do in a lot of Baroque music. Each movement starts with the same chord (it doesn't sound like a major chord to me), and goes on from there.

Next, I found myself listening to Hahn's recording of Beethoven's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major, Op. 61. I believe this is the only violin concerto that Beethoven wrote, and it was a commissioned work. Also on this recording is a work by Leonard Bernstein, Serenade for Solo Violin, Strings, Harp, and Percussion.

Apparently, this is a characteristic of Hahn's recordings; she couples two seemingly unrelated works, which turn out to be not so unrelated after all. She explains her selections on the CD liner notes, so we get an idea of why she chose a particular pairing.

Though not in D major, I want to point out her recording of Edward Elgar's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in B minor, Op. 61, which she pairs with Ralph Vaughan Williams The Lark Ascending. The Elgar concerto is just a few second shy of 50 minutes long! The first time I listened, I kept wondering, "When does the first movement end?" By the time I reached the third movement, I picked up the CD case and saw how long this work is (and the third movement is the longest of all!). Hahn did not write the liner notes for this recording, though she does include an open verse poem she wrote expressing her feelings towards the music.

Her website makes for fun reading, with occasional entries in a journal, personal tidbits (how to keep yourself from going crazy in your hotel room), biographical info and performance schedule.

This morning I received an e-mail that Hahn has a new album soon to be released, with performances of Paganini's Violin Concerto No. 1 (in D major, of course), coupled with Louis Spohr's eighth violin concerto, this one in the key of A minor. Hahn is so talented that it will be interesting to hear her playing Paganini, perhaps the greatest violinist of all time. With such a long career in front of her, Hahn just might give Paganini a run for that distinction.

New Jazz Masters Announced

2006-01-15T16:55:00.000-05:00

Read all about it.

Mozart's Mitridate, Re Di Ponto

2005-12-31T18:11:00.000-05:00

The following was submitted today to Yahoo's Opera Study group (with some modification in the post)

One of the neat things about this group is that, as we follow each month's focus, we get exposed to operas that we might otherwise not see. I know this has been true for me. For each composer, I search through the DVD opera offerings in the Netflix service. Some I like (and sometimes actually purchase), and some I don't. If I don't like a production, I don't feel like I've spent too much money, just time. Either way, I pop the DVD back in the mail, Netflix pops the top DVD off my queue, and it arrives in my mailbox. It turns out that the nearest Netflix mailing facility is in White River Junction (about a 80-90 minute drive away), so DVD's are turned around pretty quickly.

(I don't work for Netflix and receive nothing from them I don't pay for, so I'm carrying on about them because I'm a very satisfied customer. Since the available opera recordings and videos at my library are few in number, Netflix does the trick.)

So this afternoon, I watched Mitridate, Re Di Ponto. This was written when Mozart was 14, during a trip through Italy. According to Charles Osborne, Mozart was given the commission to set the opera by the city of Milan (or some ruler thereof? I need to go back and read that part again). This was in 1769. Apparently the libretto had been set at least once previously, in 1767.

The production I saw was produced by the London Royal Opera House in 1991, as part of a Mozart Bicentennial Celebration (that would make it 200 years after his death, but I guess you get your bicentennials where you can). The DVD shows the parts and players during the opening overture. The sets were pretty simple, a lot of red lighting, with various centerpieces brought up through the stage floor. This included a small torch flush with the floor in the middle of the stage, which appeared as the opera opened. With the flowing cloth of the players, I began to have this morbid fascination about whether one or more of the players would have their costume catch on fire.

While I'm on the subject of costumes...I haven't seen a lot of theater productions of any type, so take the following with a grain of salt...these were the most outlandish, garish, and just plain ugly costumes I have ever seen anywhere. Mitridate and his sons wore shiny chrome armor over flowing tunics and...well, there's no other way to describe them...skirts under which it appeared they were trying to hide bongos, or some sort of drum, on each hip. But the most ridiculous of the bunch were Aspasia's outfits. These were drop bodice dresses, and it looked like, under her skirt, she was trying to hide a full bed mattress. While the other players were able, on occasion, to shed their bongos, poor Aspasia had to drag around that mattress, even kneeling on the floor now and then, and then getting up. It looked painful.

And then there were Mitridates' guards, who first appeared wearing Chinese (?) masks and weilding swords. The masks had a red cloth toungue hanging out of the mask. At the end of Mitridates entrance aria (and it was really, really good, sung by Bruce Ford), each of the half-dozen or so guards pulled on these tongues, and then commenced to pull foot after foot of cloth out of the mouth, as I'm sure we've all seen clowns and magicians do.

All the players had a lot of makeup, with their faces painted white and their lips painted black, as well as various features around the eyes. I'm wondering if this was the practice in Mozart's day.

The opera has a smarmy, slimy villain in Farnace, who has designs on his father's throne, as well as his father's main squeeze. Farnace has also been collaborating with the Romans, who are trying to unseat Mitridates. The king discovers the machinations of his son, and tosses him into the dungeon. Just before being taken into custody, he reveals that the "good" son, Sifari, has also carried on with Aspasia, who has returned the favor. This gets both sons in hot water. However, before Mitridates can execute anyone, the Roman rout his troops and lay seige to the city. Sifari goes to fight by his father's side. But, the Romans win the day, and release Farnace from the dungeon, with a promise he can have the throne and the babe both if he chooses. The Romans leave, and Farnace has this big change of heart, for which he needs a rather lengthy aria to explain.

In the finale, Mitridates, rather than submit to the Romans, has fatally stabbed himself. Before he dies, Farnace and Sifari beg their father's forgiveness, which he grants before dropping dead. Thus ends the opera.

The work takes nearly three hours to complete, and while I enjoyed a few of the arias, I found myself wondering how much longer there was until the end. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I watched it, as it provides an opportunity to compare Mozart's early work with his later work. I felt there were too many parts for castrati, but I guess that was the style of the day. Osborne indicates that Mozart did not write any of the arias until he had met the players, so the arias were written for specific singers. This, too, I've learned through Greenberg was a common practice, at least for Mozart.

Sleigh Rides

2005-12-24T09:37:00.000-05:00

Looking out the window at the snow this winter, I was reminded of something I became aware of a few years back. Nearly everyone is familiar with Leroy Anderson's "Sleigh Ride"; it was played 17,361 times from December 12-19, 2005 topping the charts for the week. This classic was composed during a July heat wave while Anderson lived in Woodbury, Connecticut. It is energetic, witty, unpretentious and distinctly American. However, there are many more "Sleigh Rides" that may not be as well known. I happened to hear one of these many recordings on the radio a few years back, which the announcer reported as the Divertimento for orchestra in F major "Musical Sleigh Ride" by Leopold Mozart, father of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I later discovered that Tchaikovsky had written a “Sleigh Ride” as part of the Seasons Op. 37a.

These are all very different pieces. Anderson's "Sleigh Ride" conjures visions of horses trotting briskly, bells jingling merrily and snow flying behind the sleigh. Leopold Mozart's sleigh ride is more of a promenade, perhaps a larger, more majestic sleigh. The other (seldom performed) by Tchaikovsky is a magical romantic version of a sleigh ride in a Russian wonderland of snow and ice.
But wait, there are more. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote his own “Sleigh Ride” as part of German Dances. It is a short piece, as is the one written by Prokofiev called “Troika”(a sleigh pulled by 3 horses abreast). The Prokofiev version was written for the film "Lieutenant Kije. Prokofiev wrote two versions of this piece an instrumental one, and another for orchestra and baritone, both very short.And Norwegian composer Frederick Delius, as part of Three Small Tone Poems, wrote the “#2 Sleigh Ride” It was written originally as a piano piece but was orchestrated shortly thereafter and starts as a dance punctuated by sleigh bells but quickly changes to the full, rich orchestral sound that characterizes the work of Delius. Are there others? I suspect that there are-this is by no means a complete list. Many of the great composers lived in Russia, Germany and Austria at a time when the sleigh (or troika) was very common. Living in the land of snow and ice myself (Vermont), I am often tempted by the sleighs for rent locally. Perhaps I will take a sleigh ride of my own this winter.

Abduction, Cosi, Tito

2005-12-23T19:32:00.000-05:00

The following is a post I contributed to the Yahoo Opera Study e-mail group.

I've got three more (well, two and a third) Mozart operas under my belt.

The *Abduction from the Seraglio* I watched was performed by Maggio Musicale Fiorentino under the direction of Zubin Mehta. Stealing the show (I suspect this happens a lot) were Osmin, played by Kurt Rydl, and Blonde played by Patrizia Ciofi. (Now I know where "Blondie" comes from in *The Abduction of Figaro*...maybe this opera is the source for the pirate, but I doubt that). The stage used some simple but colorful backdrops, mostly stained-glass windows and sliding doors, with each different scene having a different configuration. I must say I've come to appreciate these more simple sets.

This Abduction has Belmonte arriving on a little row boat, hardly big enough for travel on the high seas, though we learn later he has a bigger boat waiting. Added to this production is a large crocodile, which appears to be a pet of Osmin's. Osmin enters with his part in the opening duet with a bucket from which he feeds the croc. It's a neat touch.

All of the singers were attractive and had wonderful voices. The extended scene between Osmin and Blonde is lots of fun, where the tough blowhard Osmin is turned into a child in a tantrum. The Pasha is a serious but courteous gentleman.

I got through about the first third of the Peter Sellars' *Cosi fan tutte*, with it's modern setting at the cafe named "Despinas." This was my second Cosi, having done the La Scala version months ago. About 15 minutes into it, I started to feel kinda foolish. I don't know why, but I was relieved nobody saw me watching it. I don't mind old operas and plays and such being translated into modern settings, but with the angst and the groping and Despina crying and so on, I just couldn't finish it. Luckily this was a Netflix rental, so it wasn't much of a monetary loss. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll be able to appreciate it better, but this production was just too jarring visually for me.

So next, I kinda skipped ahead and watched the Glyndebourne production of *La Clemenza Do Tito*. I did a little reading in Charles Osborne's book *The Complete Operas of Mozart* (Greenberg quotes this book in some of his lectures - I found it in a Half-Price Books store in San Antonio this last spring), and Osborne doesn't seem to think much of it. It was written while Mozart was also working on *The Magic Flute*. Two of the main characters, Sextus and Annius, are soprano roles written for castrati; these are now, of course, pants roles (the women wore body armor but it was hard to pretend they were really men - and -uh oh! - there was some same sex kissing going on [not that there's anything wrong with that]). Titus is really a swell guy, always expecting the best of folks, and is surprised and torn to learn that Sextus tried to kill him.

This production, too, used pretty minimal sets, basic shapes (well, except for maybe the flying saucer), and lighting that reminded me of film noir movies with its shadows and light. I really like the music, though I can't say any one part of it stands out. I suppose being sandwiched in between Cosi and Flute that, by comparison, it doesn't shine as bright as its neighbors in time. But I liked it, and would pay to see it live.

Pretty fun stuff, these Mozart operas.

Jelly Roll Morton collection

2005-12-07T01:04:00.000-05:00

Terry Treachout had a good review of The Complete Library of Congress Recordings of jazz legend Jelly Roll Morton in the Wall Street Journal on Nov. 23. Unfortunately, it is not available online.

Here is an excerpt:
"When I was down on the Gulf Coast, in nineteen-four, I missed goin' to the St. Louis Exposition to get in a piano contest...."

To the jazz aficionado, those prefatory words, spoken in a careworn Creole accent, are as evocative of a lost world as "You don't know about me, without you have read a book by the name of 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,' but that ain't no matter." Jelly Roll Morton said them on May 23, 1938, sitting at a grand piano in the Coolidge Auditorium of the Library of Congress in Washington, sipping whiskey and softly vamping away at a tune of his own composition called "Alabama Bound." Sitting nearby, discreetly manipulating two portable disc recorders, was Alan Lomax, a young musicologist employed by the Library of Congress who had had the brilliant idea of inviting Morton to talk about the origins of jazz.

Now Rounder Records has released Morton's recorded reminiscences in an unabridged form for the first time on an eight-CD set called "Jelly Roll Morton: The Complete Library of Congress Recordings by Alan Lomax." It is to jazz what the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin is to American history—only more fun….

At $115 the collection is a bit pricy for me, but I'm hoping it will eventually show up at my local public library.
I have just two recordings by Morton, both off the Ken Burns Jazz collection: The Pearls and Dead Man Blues. And then there is probably his most famous composition - King Porter Stomp, which became a huge hit for Benny Goodman thanks to an excellent arrangement by Fletcher Henderson.

New Writer for T&V

2005-12-02T08:24:00.000-05:00

There's a new, additional writer for this blog.

Sandy Rouse has agreed to contribute to Theme and Variations. Sandy lives in Newfane, Vermont (also the home town of mystery writer Archer Mayor), and has been involved in the arts for many years. This will be her debut in blogging.

She is probably a bit more qualified than the original two yahoos when it comes to writing about the arts, but don't let that turn you away; she's a very good writer.

Welcome, Sandy!

Language and Opera

2005-11-12T09:07:00.000-05:00

If you are not an opera fan, you may not have noticed that a lot of it is in the Italian language. The birth of opera occurred in Italy around 1600, so Italian makes since. However, this is not why that language is so popular for the art form.

What makes Italian so appropriate is that the words have lots of vowel sounds. Vowel sounds can be extended. If you've ever heard someone yodel, you know that they sing vowel sounds. Consonants, for the most part, cannot be extended. Try to extended the letter B for a few seconds. The "buh" sound goes by quickly, but the "eee" can be carried on until you run out of breath.

Consider some of the big words in opera:

Amore (love), pronounced ah-Mor-aye
Vendetta (revenge), pronounced ven-DET-tuh

The preponderance of vowels allows the singer to perform the great arias of opera.

Compare that to the German language. There is a lot of German opera, but it sounds very different. German has lots of guttural, consonant sounds, though there are vowels in there, too.

I don't speak any languages other than English, however most of the video and DVD recordings of opera feature subtitles, so I can follow what is being said and sung. At live performances, English is provided by supertitles. As such, the language barrier does not prevent me from enjoying the show.

Mood Music

2005-11-07T06:47:00.000-05:00

I've never met anyone who couldn't be moved in some fashion emotionally by music. Most people have a "Go To" song or work when they want to change their mood. I certainly have mine.

My "Go To" work is Brahms' Fourth Symphony in E minor. This is a "catharsis" piece in that it starts out dark and ends on a positive and promising fourth movement. As I have hinted, I have problems with chronic migraines, which can be a downer emotionally. This symphony can bring me through it every time. To a lesser extent, his First Symphony in C minor also serves well, even with the references to Beethoven's Ninth (it has been called Beethoven's Tenth).

Another such work for me is Rachmaninov's Symphony No. 2 in E minor (hmm, perhaps a pattern?). Themes from this work have found their way into popular music and movies. This same composer's Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor often does the trick as well, along with his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini in A minor, another movie piece.

A symphony which goes well with a good mood is Beethoven's Sixth Symphony in F major, also referred to as the Pastoral Symphony. Walt Disney put this work into his animated movie Fantasia. His Ninth Symphony in D minor can also be considered a catharsis piece, ending with the famous "Ode to Joy" in the last movement.

Another mood raiser is Dvorak's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, known best as the "New World" symphony. His Slavonic Dances are quite good (and I forgot to mention Brahms' Hungarian Dances) at perking up the spirits.

Mozart can be more cerebral than emotional, as befitted his era, but that can still be pleasant. Who doesn't recognize his Serenade No. 13 in G major, otherwise known as "Eine kliene Nachtmusik", and crack a little smile?

It looks like my mood music tends to be from the Romantics, which I guess should be no surprise.

La Gazza Ladra

2005-09-27T17:13:00.000-04:00

Last night I had the house to myself, as everyone was at my in-laws for dinner and I had a migraine. So, I took the opportunity to watch Rossini's La Gazza Ladra, (The Thieving Magpie). What brought the opera to my attention was that it featured Ileana Cotrubas, a fine singer and great actress, and I have been trying to collect her perfomances on DVD, video, and CD. The DVD version of the opera can be found here.

The video is from Kultur, and did not explicitly state that it was subtitled in English, so I took a chance. Luckily, it was. The opening credits stated it was an "Opera Semiseria" which I now take to mean that it isn't a comedy but it does have a happy ending.

The video gave a complete run-through of the story prior to the performance, shown during the overture. At first I found this a bit irritating, as I like to get the story as the opera is performed. However, knowing what was to happen and how it ended, I found I could spend more time paying attention to the performances of the various singers. So, there were moments at the end of arias and duets where I could notice, "Hey, that was pretty good." In the end, even though I knew how the opera ended, I was able to appreciate it, just more as a performance than as a story.

For example, (and maybe I am biased here) I was floored by Cotrubas entrance aria. She has such a great smile to go along with her singing; that smile gets me every time.

I don't know how popular this opera is, I only found it by searching for Cotrubas. In a nutshell, the story is as follows. Ninetta is a servant in the house of Fabrizio Vongradito (the full name is important, as you'll see), whose son Giannetto is returning from a war. Giannetto and Ninetta are in love, against the wishes of Lucia, Fabrizio's wife. Lucia has stern words for Ninetta, therefore, and instructs the latter to prepare for Giannetto's return banquet. Lucia instructs Ninetta to keep a close watch on the silverware, as a fork has gone missing. Giannetto returns, gets googly-eyed with Ninetta, but before long the family and staff leave to visit Gianetto's uncle out in the country, leaving Ninetta to take care of things until they return.

While everyone is away, Ninetta's father, Fernando Villabella, shows up and explains to Ninetta that for a very good reason he had to desert the army, and is now a wanted man. He has no money, so he gives Ninetta a silver fork and spoon to sell to a peddler for as much money as she can. Soon Gottardo, the mayor, shows up (and he is a bass, as befits proper operatic villains), and nearly rapes Ninetta until her father intervenes. Thus is there bad blood between the mayor and her father.

Various things happen which add nice details to the story, but I will keep things short (as I can). Ninetta does sell her father's silver to the peddler for three scudas (what is a scuda?). Gianetto's entourage returns, and Lucia discovers that a teaspoon is now missing. The mayor holds an on-the-spot investigation, and all the evidence points to Ninetta. The peddler is sent for; he does not have the fork and spoon he bought from Ninetta, as he has sold them, but he recalls that the initials on the silverware were "F.V." (Now you know why the full names are important.)

Ninetta cannot tell anyone that she got the utensils from her father, as he is a wanted man, so off to jail she goes. The mayor offers to let her off if she will do his will, but she refuses, which ticks off the mayor something fierce. At the trial, Ninetta is sentenced to death (the area is under martial law, so things get a bit stern). Fernando (Ninetta's father) shows up at the trial to beg the jury to have mercy on his daughter. The mayor recognizes Fernando and has him arrested. Ninetta is sent to the gallows, and Fernando is sent to jail.

I have not told you about Pippo. Pippo is a young peasant boy in the employ of Fabrizio, and the closest thing to a jester in the opera. As Ninetta is led off to the gallows, Pippo is looking over a shiny cross Ninetta had given him from her jail cell. A magpie, a pet in Fabrizio's house, flies by and swipes the cross. Pippo sees where the bird has taken it, and climbs up to find the bird's cache of stolen treasure, including the Lucia's missing fork and spoon. Ninetta is exonerated just at the last minute. Meanwhile, her father Fernando is given a pardon from the King (not Elvis) and father and daughter are reunited. Everyone gets to sing together about how great love is, the mayor gets to grumble, and the opera is brought to a close.

It takes around three hours for the opera performance. During the rolling credits, the magpie is given as a character, I guess he plays himself. I'm not really sure how they got the mechanical magpie to do what it did, but it even had a speaking role (it knows the names of Pippo and Ninetta). I really enjoyed the opera, and it has become a favorite in the short list of operas I have seen and heard.

It also really hit me that opera is really an artform that takes themes to extremes. "Melodramatic" singing and acting is called for in opera. I suppose this should not be a surprise, considering all the words are sung, and nobody does that (Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode "Once More..." not withstanding).

A postmodern version of Verdi's Macbeth

2005-05-23T21:41:00.000-04:00

This evening I watch the Opernhaus Zurich production of Macbeth, with Thomas Hampson in the title role, and Paoletta Marrocu as Lady Macbeth.

The description on the DVD cover calls it a "hard-edged postmodern production of Giuseppe Verdi's haunting masterpiece." I don't guess I knew that about the opera when I ordered it, or I probably would have tried a different production. And, had I done so, I would have seriously missed out on a great show.

I've got to start out first of all by mentioning Marrocu's Lady Macbeth, or, more appropriately, her costume as designed by Marie-Jeanne Lecca. It's, well, an eye opener, to say the least. In fact, while she was on stage, I don't think I blinked much. Let me reveal that...it's revealing.

But Marrocu is, along with being a powerful singer, also a great actress. She starts out on a "box" some 12-15 feet tall, which plays an integral role throughout the production. Below, Hampson is reading a letter, which Lady Macbeth is also reading, apparently from Macbeth. She has her aria where she plans for her ascension to the throne. It is near the end of this where we see she is chained to the box (but she doesn't stay that way for long).

But I'm getting things out of order. The traditional three witches from the beginning of Shakespeare's Macbeth are actually an entire chorus of two covens of witches (I didn't count them, but it sure seemed like there were more than twenty-six women). They are almost all dressed in red, but in modern dress, no two the same. They seem to represent women from all walks of life. One of them works a small area of dirt (dirt is also a recurring prop throughout the opera). After their opening chorus, Banquo (played by Roberto Scandiuzzi) and Macbeth climb steps up to stage level. Soon they are surrounded by three spirits, while the chorus of witches make their predictions: Macbeth will be Thane of Cawdor, and then king of Scotland; Banquo will sire a line of kings.

I won't go over the entire opera; there's just too much to cover. It goes for 139 minutes. There is one part that I wonder if it is their version of the ballet, where the witches have some fun with Macbeth after he faints from his second encounter with them. Lady Macbeth's sleep-walking scene is incredible ("Out, foul spot!"), a bit of dance thrown in. Piave's libretto uses the more famous lines from the play. When Hampson's Macbeth is afraid, he really looks afraid! Macduff (Luis Lima) has a great aria while he is in hiding, and really shines in the fourth act.

Zurich's production is a bit odd in costume , sets, and choreograph, but it adds to, rather than distracts from, the production. It's quite a ride. I may try to find a different, more traditional production to have something to which to compare, but I'm sure I'll be watching this version again.

Care to be an Elitist?

2005-05-11T23:39:00.000-04:00

Found via Reflections in d minor:

How to Be an Elitist Snob in 20 Easy Steps

Pretty funny stuff, written by an orchestra musician.

Figaro, Barber and Groom

2005-05-01T21:26:00.000-04:00

In the beginning, of course, was the play Le Barbier de Séville by Beaumarchais, who wrote a trilogy of plays featuring the street-smart Figaro (the other two plays being The Marriage of Figaro and The Guilty Mother). These plays were somewhat controversial in their portrayal of the aristocracy, and, for a time, were banned. In the early 1780's The Barber of Seville was turned into an opera by Giovanni Paisiello. It inspired Mozart, along with his librettist da Ponte, to create an opera from the sequel play, which was called (in Italian) Le Nozze di Figaro.

I won't go into the details of the stories of these two operas; The Barber of Seville story can be found here, while The Marriage of Figaro story can be found here.

Paisiello's version of the opera had its followers, so much so that when Gioacchino Rossini created a version of The Barber, the production was hissed during the first performance, even though Rossini's version was originally called Almaviva. Rossini's version, in the end however, is the one known and performed now, while Paisiello's version is little more than a footnote.

As with much of classical music, many people have been introduced to the music of these operas through the famous parody The Rabbit of Seville, a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

Even though Mozart's opera was written earlier, I decided to watch The Barber first as it comes first in the order of the story. I'm sure there are opera buffs who can listen to an opera recording with the libretto open on their laps, but I don't understand Italian and can't follow the action that way. So, my explorations of opera have been via DVD's with English subtitles. While this may be cheating a bit, it does compare to a modern experience of attending opera, where English translations are given via a screen either above or below the stage. I have to say, as much fun as the music is on its own, it takes on a deeper meaning seeing the action and subtitles in a real performance.

Within a day (both of these operas run close to three hours, so it helps to spread them out some) I dove into Mozart's Marriage and had a blast with it, too. There is a scene in the movie Amadeus where Mozart explains how he turns an aria into a duet, and then to a three-some, and so on until he has seven performers singing all at once, all carrying on for over twenty minutes. That scene, if you watch for it, becomes obvious and it is brilliant (it comes at the end of the second act, if I recall correctly).

It was in Marriage that I saw my first pants or breeches part. In Mozart's day a composer had access to male sopranos in the form of castrati, young males who were castrated before their voices changed in order to maintain a high pitched vocal range (the most famous of these was Farinelli). In modern productions, these roles are now played by women sopranos, wearing male clothes, hence the term "pants" role.

As imposing as opera can seem to one not exposed to it, comic opera (or opera buffa) I have found to be very accessible. Modern day movie musicals have opera as their ancestors, and the same sort of things happen in both. In a musical, the action of the story is spoken dialog and interaction of the actors (the opera equivalent is the chant-like recitative), and every so often the action stops as the actors perform a musical number (in opera this is an aria) which usually has the performer singing about his feelings or thoughts at that time. Opera has just this structure, usually in a language other than English. So much of operatic music has been used in other non-opera settings (in advertising and cartoons, for example) that there is a familiar feeling when that music is seen performed in its original setting. It's a lot more fun than I expected it to be, and I plan to explore more of it.

Coming up

2005-04-25T20:47:00.000-04:00

I know there haven't been posts in awhile, but readers of my other blog Beginner's Mind will understand that I have been away. However, I intend in the coming days to finish the posts on the love triangle, as well as post new entries on my explorations of opera, and to finally tackle the long-ago-requested but not-forgotten life and music of Gustav Mahler (perhaps he was the original Gloomy Gus!).

I Am Music

2005-03-20T19:25:00.000-05:00

From the prologue of the opera Orfeo by Claudio Monteverdi

I am Music who, with
sweet sounds, knows how to calm
every troubled heart, and
now to noble anger, now to love,
can kindle the most icy souls.

Singing to the golden lyre I am
accustomed sometimes to delight
mortal ears and I thus inspire the
soul at the sonorous harmony of
the lyre of Heaven.

...

Now during my songs, now gay,
now sad, may the birds be silent
on these trees, no waves heard
on these shores, and every breeze
cease to blow.

(Translation taken from Robert Greenberg, who points out that Greenberg means Green Mountain, and Monteverdi means Mountain Green)

March of the Astronauts

2005-03-16T10:37:00.000-05:00

(I'll get back to the love triangle in a future entry)

In 1983 there was a movie entitled The Right Stuff about the men who became America's first astronauts. In that movie, there is a scene in which the first seven he-men astronauts are shown walking together in slow motion while Bill Conti's music plays a triumphant march-like theme. We see our heroes, on which America has heaped our dreams of glory in winning the space race against the Communist Soviets.

It appears, however, that Conti's music isn't exactly original. The theme, according to Robert Greenberg, comes from the first movement of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto. (I've heard both, the resemblance can't be coincidence).

How ironic; this music that celebrates America's astronauts was actually written by a Russian, homosexual pedaphile.

Who defines jazz?

2005-03-11T14:06:00.000-05:00

A couple of years ago the alto saxophonist Kenny G caused a stir in the jazz world when he decided to overdub his playing onto a recording of Louis Armstrong performing “What A Wonderful World.”

The brazen act brought a sharp rebuke from jazz guitarist Pat Metheny.

Metheny’s anti-Kenny G essay opened with the following declarative statement - “Kenny G is not a musician.” and pretty much went on from there to slam the pop artist in the most unkind terms:

“...when Kenny G decided that it was appropriate for him to defile the music of the man who is probably the greatest jazz musician that has ever lived by spewing his lame-ass, jive, pseudo bluesy, out-of-tune, noodling, wimped out,....”

OK, I’ll stop there because the rest of the quote gets a bit too profane for this family-oriented blog. But I think the gist of his unhappiness with Mr. G. is fairly clear.

Here Metheny describes his first impression of Kenny G’s playing ability:

“He had major rhythmic problems and his harmonic and melodic vocabulary was extremely limited, mostly to pentatonic based and blues-lick derived patterns, and he basically exhibited only a rudimentary understanding of how to function as a professional soloist in an ensemble...”

“But he did show a knack for connecting to the basest impulses of the large crowd by deploying his two or three most effective licks (holding long notes and playing fast runs - never mind that there were lots of harmonic clams in them) at the key moments to elicit a powerful crowd reaction (over and over again). The other main thing I noticed was that he also, as he does to this day, played horribly out of tune - consistently sharp.”

Now I am not a fan of Kenny G.’s music and I don’t particularly like the “smooth jazz” genre that he inhabits. I can also understand why a lot of jazz purists have lined up behind Metheny to cast aspersions at this affront to their musical tastes. But, nevertheless, I think Metheny’s tirade is just a bit over the top and represents a form of jazz snobbery that I believe has served to keep a large segment of the population away from experiencing jazz music.
The sad fact is that for many listeners, Kenny G may be the first and only example of jazz music they have ever heard. And it is quite possible too that the overdub version of “What a Wonderful World” was there first exposure to the great Louis Armstrong. This is not a bad thing because perhaps it might just encourage them to go out and find more Louis Armstrong music that doesn’t have Kenny G on it.

When I was a kid my first exposure to the Beatles was through the Sgt. Peppers’s Lonely Hearts Club Band movie that came out in 1978 starring Peter Frampton and The Bee Gees. Most Beatles fans then and now considered it an abomination, but I loved it. And when I found out that every song in the movie was by one band I was completely blown away and soon became a huge Beatles fan. So one should not knock the form of exposure that a type of music gets because it may just be the only route available to reach some people.

A classical music love triangle (Part 2)

2005-03-03T09:54:00.000-05:00

(A continuation of this entry.)

Johannes Brahms cut his performing teeth in the brothels of waterfront Hamburg playing piano at the age of twelve. His family was poor, and this was how he contributed to the household income. Pianists would play bawdy songs and dances all night. In between dances, the women would sometimes have Brahms sit on their laps while they poured beer down him. They would even pull down his pants and pass him around, playing with him and laughing at him the whole while. The experience would color his relationships with women his entire life.

At fourteen, his health was poor, and his whorehouse piano days ended. He continued to bring in money, however, by giving piano lessons. He also performed concerts, and studied composition throughout his teenage years. In 1850, Robert and Clara Schumann were in Hamburg to perform, and Brahms collected some of his compositions and sent them to Schumann's hotel. However, Schumann did not know Brahms and had no inclination to study the works, so they were sent back unopened.

In 1853 Brahms paired with a Hungarian violinist named Eduard Rimenyi to do a concert tour of Germany. In May of that year they paid a visit to the reknown violinist Joseph Joachim. (Joachim was a close friend of the Schumanns.) Brahms played some of his piano compositions and Joachim was very impressed; so impressed, that Joachim arranged for Brahms to play before the King of Hanover, who commented afterwards that Brahms was a "little Beethoven."

There would be many comparisons between Beethoven and Brahms throughout the latter's lifetime.

Rimenyi and Brahms parted ways in June of 1853, and Brahms went back to Joachim. They lived and performed together for a few months. With his share of the profits, Brahms decided to do a bit of a hiking tour.

Joachim suggested that Brahms should call on the Schumanns when he reached Dusseldorf, however Johannes was still upset with Schumann for not reviewing the music sent to him earlier. However, throughout his trip he was given the same advice from several people. While in Bonn, he had his first chance to look at Schumann's music, and he was impressed. He finally decided to introduce himself to the Schumanns, and headed to Dusseldorf.

What Brahms did not know was that his reputation had preceded him in the form of praise from Joachim. Robert Schumann ushered the young man in and requested he play something on the piano. However, before Brahms had finished playing a sonata, Schumann stopped him and went to get his wife Clara. Of course Clara was quite famous as a pianist, and playing before her was a bit unnerving. He played the sonata and a few other works, and the Schumanns were speechless. He was invited back to lunch for the next day.

For his part, Brahms did not think he had made much of an impression, and failed to show up for lunch. Clara went out searching for the young man, and brought him home. The Schumanns insisted Brahms stay with them for awhile. Robert Schumann contacted his publisher to have four works of Brahms published. On top of that, Schumann wrote a glowing article on Brahms, proclaiming him as the new great talent.

A great friendship had been formed, which would influence Brahms for the rest of his life.

A classical music love triangle (Part 1)

2005-02-20T20:20:00.000-05:00

Someone wanting to create a movie with all sorts of plot twists, psychological drama, and great music, would do well to tell the story of Johannes Brahms, and Robert and Clara Schumann. And such a movie would not need dramatic embellishment; the real story is wild enough.

The story begins with Robert in Leipzig in 1828. He began taking piano lessons from Friedrich Wieck (pronounce "Veek"). Wieck had developed a method of piano instruction which involved countless hours of practice, including special fingering exercises. Robert was eighteen at the time.

Wieck's proof of his piano method was given by his daughter Clara, who was nine years old when Robert began taking lessons with her father. It was Wieck's plan to transform his daughter into the world's greatest pianist.

In four years, one of Robert's fingers became numb and mostly unusable, owing to the eight-hour practice sessions and the use of a finger-strengthening machine. He consulted a Professor Kuhl, who instructed Robert to soak his hand in an "animal bath,", essentially the entrails of a freshly slaughtered animal. The cure, of course, didn't work, and Robert's career as a pianist was nearing an end.

Wieck was appalled at Robert's injury. He was afraid that his piano method would be damaged by a reputation for injury, and began to estrange himself from Robert. This had caused pain for Robert, who was not only seeing his pianist career ending, but was also becoming a problem for a man he had begun to think of as a second father.

But this was not the end of Robert Schumann's connection with the Wiecks.

Wieck's daughter Clara began piano lessons at the age of five. At the age of seven, she was pulled from school and received private tutoring in languages, music theory, composition, and violin. She made her first public appearance at the age of nine as a pianist. By the age of ten, Wieck was parading his daughter before aristocrats and the wealthy. She played her first solo concert at the age of eleven.

Wieck and his daughter went on a concert tour across Germany, where she received great reviews for her playing. The money earned by Clara at these concerts was invested by Wieck in his own business. Wieck's scheme seemed to be working well.

By the time Clara was fifteen, her interest in music had waned, replaced by an interest in young men. By this time, according to Clara later in life, she had fallen in love with Robert. Robert, for his part, began to return the affections when she was sixteen.

At first, Wieck was unaware of the growing relationship between his daughter and his student. When he began to suspect what was going on, he removed Clara from Leipzig and sent her to Dresden. Robert thought that Wieck would welcome Robert into the family; for Wieck's part, Clara was his source of income, and was to be the world's greatest pianist, not a wounded student's housewife.

What was to ensue over the next few years was a love affair that was carried out mostly in secret (Wieck even claimed he would shoot Robert if he came near his daughter). During this time Robert had bouts of depression and drinking problems. Still, the relationship continued, with Wieck doing all he could to end it.

Finally, in 1839, Wieck began proceedings to disinherit his daughter, keeping the money made from her concerts. Robert countered with a suit against Wieck, after obtaining an affidavit from Clara, that would allow him to marry Clara (who could not consent to be married without her father's approval until she was twenty-one). The lawsuits went back and forth, finally ending in favor of Clara and Robert in August of 1840.

As a final thumbing of the nose to Wieck, Robert and Clara were married on September 12 of 1840, the day before her twenty-first birthday. It was the last day Wieck could be legally and finally beaten.

Syncopation

2005-02-16T23:16:00.000-05:00

Many of the old jazz songs from the 1920s and '30s make references to syncopation such as in Cake Walkin' Babies where they sing about the "struttin' syncopators."

I had no clue what the term meant the first time I heard it. As it turns out it is one of the key musical devices that defines jazz music. Basically, syncopation occurs when a musician plays notes off of the beat.

This web site gives a basic introduction to the term complete with examples. For a more detailed explanation, go here.

Jazz is not easy to define as we shall soon see. Determining who is and who is not a jazz musician is not something everyone can agree on. In exploring my own musical tastes I will be looking at some musicians and singers who may not normally be identified with jazz, but who nevertheless have made significant contributions to the art form.

Beethoven's Fifth and Sixth Symphonies

2005-02-10T11:41:00.000-05:00

You are sitting in a music hall in Vienna. The date is December 22, 1808. It's 6:30 in the evening, and you are about to sit through a concert that premiers Ludwig van Beethoven's two new symphonies, his No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67, and his No. 6 in F major, Op. 68. You're about to have a great experience, right?

Wrong.

The concert hall was poorly heated, and the concert itself lasted four hours. Some of the pieces played that night were poorly rehearsed, and the orchestra was cross with Herr Beethoven. The concert opened with his Sixth symphony, but, fearing that the audience would be too fatigued to properly appreciate his Fifth at the end of the evening, Beethoven added hastily written works to the end of the concert, rather than shorten the program. One choral piece was stopped in mid-performance due to mistakes (which were Beethoven's fault) and started over, extending the concert even further.

The Fifth Symphony is one of the most recognizable pieces of classical music, starting, as it does, with the famous "Fate" theme (da-da-da-dum!). Curiously, it was started before his Fourth Symphony, and would have been his fourth had he not been given a commission to write a symphony from a Count Oppersdorff. Beethoven started the Fifth in 1804, but interrupted its composition in 1806 to fill the commission (the Fourth was premiered in March of 1807). The Fifth was completed in early 1808.

Beethoven's Fifth Symphony transforms from the dark themes in C minor in the first movement (with simple motives) to the triumphant themes in C major in the fourth and final movement.

The Sixth Symphony, nicknamed the "Pastoral," consists of five movements, rather than the typical four. This symphony was written just after Beethoven finished the Fifth, in 1808. The work is an expression of the composer's love of nature. It is unusual in that there is no break between the third and fourth movements, as well as between the fourth and fifth movements. For the first movement, Beethoven inscribed as, "The cheerful impressions excited by arriving in the country." Birds can be heard through the flutes that play during the first theme of the movement.

The second movements is annotated, "By the stream." Here, too, bird song is heard, this time in the trilling of the 1st violins. The water can be heard in the familiar use of triplet notes, a common device in music for depicting water.

Movement three is described as, "A happy get-together of peasants." There are three "dances" played, which serve as themes for the movement. The second dance was inspired by the wind band at Beethoven's favorite tavern, "The Three Ravens." The music of this dance reflects the limited ability of the band, from the best player being the clarinet and thus having the most difficult part, to the bassoonist, who has the easiest, a comical recurring counterpoint that plays over and over, and consists of only three or four notes. The movement ends with the dance being interrupted by the approach of bad weather, which will be depicted in the fourth movement.

There is no break after the third movement. "Storm" is the title given to the fourth movement, where raindrops cause one to look up at the beginning. Soon, there are lightning flashes and thunderclaps, and the deluge begins. At the end of this movement, the storm has finally passed, and the thunder can be heard in the distance.

Without a break, the symphony continues non-stop into the fifth and final movement. Beethoven describes this movement as, "The shepherd's hymn, gratitude and thanksgiving after the storm." The introduction, a shepherd's call, is played by solo clarinet and horn. This is followed by the shepherd's hymn.

It is interesting that these two symphonies were written back-to-back. They are very different in mood. By 1808 Beethoven's hearing had deteriorated to the point where he could not hear the softly-played sections of music by an orchestra. Though difficult to sit through at their premier, these symphonies have become very popular.

Mozart's birthday

2005-01-28T11:15:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was Wolfgang Mozart's birthday, born January 27, 1756. His full name was Johannes Christian Wolfgang Gottlieb Mozart.

What, no Amadeus?

Well, yes and no. Gottlieb is German for "loved by God." During a stint in Paris, he jokingly referred to himself as "Amade" (pronounce ahm-a-day), which was later Latinized as Amadeus after his death.

He also had a pet name, "Wolfie," given to him by his wife Constanze.

There's an interesting story about how Mozart came to be a free-lance musician in Vienna. At his father Leopold's insistence, Mozart and his mother went to Paris in order for him to find a position as musician and composer. On the way to Paris, they stopped in Mannheim, where he spent a few months composing and teaching. There he met and fell in love with Aloysia Weber.

Leopold was upset; he insisted that his son quit Mannheim and depart for Paris, which Mozart did, leaving Aloysia behind.

Paris was a disaster. He never really found work, nor was he popular. During the visit his mother fell sick and died. He went broke. His father blamed him for his mother's death, even though it was Leopold who insisted she accompany Mozart to Paris. Leopold secured a job for Mozart in Salzberg as organist and concertmaster for Leopold's employer, the Archbishop Colloredo. Mozart, dejected went home.

But life had another disappointment waiting for Mozart. On his way home, he passed through Mannheim and proposed marriage to Aloysia. She turned him down.

Mozart detested the Archbishop, and felt that his talents were wasted in Salzberg. He managed to get a commision for an opera, Idomeneo, from the elector of Munich. Wolfgang obtained a six week leave-of-absence from Colloredo, and in November of 1780 he left for Munich.

Idomeneo was a big success. Mozart's six weeks of leave came and went, while he made excuses as to why he had to stay in Munich. However, eventually Archbishop Colloredo went to Vienna, and directly ordered Mozart to attend him there. It was the Archbishop's intention to show off his musicians to the aristocracy of Vienna.

While in Vienna, the Archbishop made it very plain who was the servant and who the master. He refused to allow Mozart to perform concerts for his own benefit. Mozart became surly and insubordinate. As tensions mounted between Mozart and his employer, a minister for Colloredo was directed to bring Mozart in line. After a series of confrontations, Mozart tendered his resignation. The minister railed at Mozart, and after taking abuse, Mozart railed back. Eventually Mozart was physically removed, with the minister literally giving Mozart a kick in the butt as he was shoved out the door.

In 1781, at the age twenty-five, Mozart was a free man in Vienna.

In an interesting twist, the Webers had relocated from Mannheim to Vienna. Mozart took an apartment in the Weber home. His former love Aloysia was now married, but Mozart fell in love with one of her younger sisters, Constanze. In 1782, they were married.

Mozart's "Haydn" Quartets

2005-01-18T18:23:00.000-05:00

In a previous post I wrote about Franz Joseph Haydn's six "Russian" quartets, Op. 33. These quartets inspired Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to write six quartets over a period of a few years, and dedicated the quartets to Haydn when they were published.

As part of a special deal from The Teaching Company's course Chamber Music of Mozart, you can get The Alexander String Quartet's recording Homage: The Six Quartets Dedicated to Haydn.

The six quartets are: G Major, K.387; D Minor, Op. 421; E-flat Major, K. 428; B-flat Major, K. 458, subtitled "Hunt"; A major, K. 464; and C major, K. 465, subtitled "Dissonant."

The quartets each have four movements. They are structured in the fashion that Haydn had introduced in his quartets, mainly, that each instrument (two violins, viola, and cello) has a voice in the pieces and therefore are not subservient to the first violin.

To explain the subtitles of two of the quartets, the "Hunt" is so named due to the resemblance to hunting horns in one of the themes of the first movement. It does not appear that Mozart gave either of these quartets their subtitles. It is interesting to note that Mozart's father, Leopold, wrote a "hunting" symphony, Sinfonia di caccia, which featured real hunting horns, gunshots from the drums, shouts from the orchestra, and even barking dogs. The "Dissonant" quartet (the sixth and last) takes its name from the very dissonant opening of the first movement.

Haydn is said to have been confused with the opening of the sixth quartet, but said of it, "Well, if Mozart wrote it, he must have meant it."

At a quartet party in February of 1785, Haydn, after hearing the quartets and reading the score, made this somewhat famous comment to Wolfgang's father Leopold, who was visiting Vienna at the time; "Before God and as an honest man, I tell you that your son is the greatest composer known to me either in person or by name. He has taste and, what is more, the most profound knowledge of composition." This was high praise from the inventor of the string quartet, and one of the most renown composers in Europe in that age.

Personally, I have mostly enjoyed full orchestral works, but these quartets have opened new possibilities for me. I find myself exploring chamber music of other composers as well as of Mozart's. The Alexander String Quartet, which has won numerous awards, plays these pieces quite well. Even the last quartet, which has such and odd beginning, is still wonderful in the passages and movements which follow.

The quartets were somewhat controversial at the time of their composition. A friend of Mozart's, Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf, complained of the "overwhelming and unrelenting artfulness" of the quartets. Indeed, many of Mozart's contemporaries thought that Mozart used too many notes, and his music was too complex for the audiences of the day. Yet now to modern ears these quartets are vintage Mozart and are very enjoyable.

Haydn's Russian Quartets

2005-01-12T13:33:00.000-05:00

Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) was born in the village of Rohrau in Austria, the son of a wheelwright. He spent some years making a living teaching violin and keyboard, as well as playing as a musician. He came to employment as Vice-Kapellmeister to Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy. He was to remain in the employ of the house of Esterhazy for most of his life.

While being considered by some historians the Father of the Symphony, it is generally accepted that Haydn invented the string quartet, consisting of two violins, a viola, and a cello. He established the form of the quartet as having four movements, similar in form to the symphony. It is not known exactly how many quartets Haydn composed, but he himself listed 83.

Haydn completed his Russian Quartets in 1781 as his Opus 33. The quartets take their name from their performance before the Russian Grand Duke Paul, (later Tsar Paul II), and his wife who were visiting Vienna.

I was able to find a Naxos recording of three of the quartets locally. This recording features quartets numbered 1, 2, and 5, performed by the Kodaly Quartet of Hungary.

The first quartet is in the key of B minor. The first movement is a sonata form that shifts to the key of D major. The second movement is marked scherzando and includes a trio in B major, followed by a third andante movement in D major. The finale returns to B minor.

Quartet number 2, which has been given the title "The Joke," is in E flat major. The name comes from the ending of the fourth and final movement, in which there is a change in speed and a coda which plays a joke on the listener. The joke is a series of silences and a whispered ending, which fools the listener.

Quartet number 5 is in the key of G major, and has been given the title "How Do You Do?" This is due to sound of the initial figure of the first movement, which suggests the question.

All in all, the quartets provide wonderful listening. Like most of Haydn's compositions, they employ the Classical style which inspired many of the composers that followed. This is light and easy listening, but with enough content to please those who look for structure in classical music works.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a friend of Haydn's, and it is said that the former was inspired to write quartets after seeing the score of the latter's Opus 33. Mozart wrote six quartets that he then dedicated to Haydn. I will take up these quartets in a later entry.

Classical music forms

2005-01-04T22:05:00.000-05:00

In Lecture One of the Teaching Company's The Chamber Music of Mozart Robert Greenberg details the architecture of various musical works. The four forms he explains are: theme and variations (used in classical as well as jazz music, hence, the reason for the naming of the blog), minuet and trio form, rondo form, and sonata form.

Theme and variations form is the simplest. At the beginning of a movement, the theme is clearly stated. Each section thereafter in the movement is a variation on the theme. The variations may be as simple as a change in key or accompaniment, or a complicated restatement of the theme which may not be recognizable as the original theme. There may be any number of variations on the theme. The end of the movement will have a coda, an extended conclusion to the movement.

The minuet and trio form comes to us from the Baroque era dance. The minuet is a "stately, moderately paced three-step." (The same rhythm as a waltz.) The music form has an A-B-A structure, where the A is a minuet, B is a contrasting minuet, and the last A is a restatement of the original minuet. The contrasting B minuet was sometimes scored for only three instruments, hence it became known as the trio.

The rondo is a form in which the music in the movement returns periodically to the main, or rondo, theme. (In some ways, the minuet and trio is a rondo, in that the movement returns to the original theme at the end.) The rondo takes the form of A-B-A-C-A-coda, where A is the rondo theme, B and C are contrasting (but different) themes, and the coda ends the movement.

These three forms explained so far have in common that they are based on a single theme.

In the sonata form (sometimes refered to as sonata-allegro form), multiple main themes (at least two) are stated, varied, and then restated. The statement of the main themes occurs in what is called the exposition. Typically, the first theme is played in the home key of the movement. This is followed by a modulating bridge ("modulating" because it often is where a key change is made) before the statement of the second theme.

Following the the last main theme in sonata form is usually a cadence, part of the music that brings the exposition material to a close. Frequently, to help emphasize the main themes, the exposition will be repeated.

The development section will then play on the main themes in general ways; combining, varying, and so on. There may be multiple key changes, which makes the development a very active part of the movement.

The recapitulation in sonata form will bring back the main themes, usually with one change: where before the themes would be in contrasting keys, they will now be in the home key of the music. Finally, the movement will end with a coda.

These are general outlines of the forms, but many composers didn't stick strictly to them. Sometimes new themes were played in the development section or in cadential material. Sometimes themes from one movement are reintroduced in another movement. What is important is that there is a structure to classical music, and a listener can develop a greater appreciation for classical works when the structure is recognized.

Artie Shaw

2005-01-03T12:18:00.000-05:00

Artie Shaw
Originally uploaded by mwthomas87.

Artie Shaw died last week at the ripe old age of 94. He was one of the giants of the jazz era.
On the cover of âPocket Full of Gold,â the Bing Crosby biography by Gary Giddins, there is a quote from Artie Shaw in which he calls Bing the âfirst hip white man in America.â
I always thought that was a really nice compliment and an interesting observation from someone who was once in tune with what was hip in America.
For the longest time that quote and the jazz tune âBegin the Beguineâ summed up everything I knew about Shaw. âBegin the Beguineâ is Shawâs sole contribution to the Ken Burnâs Jazz series, but it is also one of my favorite pieces of music in the whole collection.
The tune seems so very familiar even when you are hearing it for the first time. Shaw builds anticipation with his clarinet while the orchestra keeps a beat that is just on the mellow side of being âswing.â The whole song seems to slowly build on that anticipation until the very end when Shawâs clarinet rides one note right off the scale and fulfills everything you were waiting for.
But that one song fulfilled even more for Shaw as it grew in popularity and overshadowed everything else he did. He eventually came to resent the song for that reason and went so far as to give up playing clarinet during the latter part of his life in favor of writing.
Iâm sure that Shaw was a fine writer, but he never achieved the kind of fame for his literary efforts as he had acheived in music. But then it is rare that anyone is able to catch more than one shooting star during a lifetime. I also think it is quite admirable that Shaw chose to live his life pursuing the things that interested him and did not allow fame and fortune to dictate his path and lock him into one area where he would have felt trapped.

Learning about music

2004-12-27T13:32:00.000-05:00

One of the great resources for learning about classical music (and, to a small extent, jazz) is the series of lectures provided by The Teaching Company. The classical music programs are presented by Dr. Robert Greenberg, who has a full but quirky grasp of the subject. He definitely has his opinions, but he presents his material with an obvious gusto. His lectures cover not only the main facts of composers and works, but also include interesting tidbits that make the composers more human.

A good place to start is the class How to Listen to and Understand Great Music. This course takes the listener chronologically through the history of music, from the earliest written works by ancient Greeks up through to the first part of the twentieth century. Along the way he teaches about forms of music, and how they evolved. Along with instrumental works, there is a handful of lectures on opera. Because many orchestral works are derived from operatic forms, this provides a valuable insight into later forms of music.

Also available from The Teaching Company is a series of lectures entitled The Great Masters. As of this writing, there are ten composers studied in this series, which can be obtained one by one or you can get the entire series. These lectures, too, are presented by Dr. Greenberg. There are also courses in opera appreciation, the symphony, and in-depth study of certain works by various composers.

(Disclaimer - this blog does not receive any monetary or material benefit from The Teaching Company, nor is it affiliated with the company in any way beyond being the occasional customer.)

Franz Schubert's "Great" Symphony

2004-11-21T10:21:00.000-05:00

I've been going through a stack of classical CD's and learning about all kinds of new music, as well as becoming reacquainted with some old favorites, and will be sharing my experiences.

The first I'd like to relate concerns Franz Schubert's Symphony No. 9 in C Major, often called his "Great" Symphony. But first, more about the composer.

Born in 1797 in Vienna, he was the son of a schoolmaster. Early on he showed musical talent. Having studied composition with Salieri, by the time he was seventeen he had composed several piano pieces, string quartets, his first symphony, and a three-act opera. He was to become a prolific composer of songs and music, and eventually would write nine symphonies.

The ninth symphony has had some numbering problems. This may be due to the confusion over when the symphony was composed. For example, The Victor Book Of the Symphony gives the completion date as 1828, the year Schubert died, and numbers it the seventh. This site dates the composition as 1825. In the liner notes of the CD I have gives the composition date as 1826 and states that the work has been given no less than four different numbers.

What is clear is that Schubert never heard the symphony played. While considered a popular piece among musicians today, in the early 19th century there was great resistance among players for the work. An orchestra in Vienna scheduled the work, but substituted Schubert's No. 6 "Little C major" symphony, considering the ninth too difficult to play. The work lay dormant until 1839, when it was discovered by Robert Schumann, who sent it with great excitement to Felix Mendelssohn, who finally presented the symphony in Leipzig, though in an abridged form. Mendelssohn had a difficult time presenting the work. After the 1839 premiere, he attempted to rehearse the work for one of his London shows, but the musicians complained so much of parts of the finale that Mendelssohn withdrew the work.

The symphony is a very rich work, and fans of Beethoven will find much to appreciate in this symphony, as this is very much a work of a similar period. It is a work that uses the entire orchestra, where the themes are often introduced by woodwinds, taken up by horns, and developed by strings. There is a wealth of emotion in all of the movements. Schubert's love of song can be heard in different passages throughout.

Another aspect that makes this an interesting piece is that you can (and in fact, probably should) give this work many listens to "get" it all. Even though there are only a few themes, they are developed so well and with so many voices, with each listen there's something new. This should come as no surprise, as it is a fairly long symphony.

This is a new piece for me. The version I have can be found here.
I think you'll find this is, as it's nickname implies, a great symphony.

Jazz Hall of Fame

2004-10-01T13:09:00.000-04:00

Jazz at Lincoln Center has announced the inaugural class to be inducted into the new Ertegun Jazz Hall of Fame in New York.

The 14 members of the inaugural class are: Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, Bix Beiderbecke, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Coleman Hawkins, Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk, Jelly Roll Morton, Charlie Parker, Art Tatum and Lester Young.

I don’t think there is any question that all of these musicians are most deserving of induction into a jazz hall of fame. But what strikes me about the list is at least three glaring ommissions:

Benny Goodman
Count Basie
Ella Fitzgerald

I’m not sure why they settled on 14 as the limit for the inaugural class, but leaving out Benny Goodman is kind of like the Baseball Hall of Fame leaving out Honus Wagner from its inaugural class. (The other members of the Baseball HOF’s inaugural class in 1936 included Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Walter Johnson and Christy Mathewson).
I think having a jazz hall of fame is an excellent idea, but since they are getting such a late start with it they probably should have considered expanding their list of initial inductees just a bit further.

Hopefully, they will rectify this next year. Here are my suggestions for the second round of inductees in 2005 (including the three listed above):

Artie Shaw
Charlie Mingus
Glenn Miller
Art Blakey
Stan Getz
Lionel Hampton
Dave Brubeck
Fletcher Henderson
Tommy Dorsey
Chick Webb
Django Reinhardt

Any other suggestions?

Sharon Isbin

2004-09-30T13:20:00.000-04:00

As I write this, I am listening to Sharon Isbin plays Baroque Favorites for Guitar, the latest CD from classical guitarist Sharon Isbin.

Isbin seems to specialize in music which was not originally written for the guitar (although her repertoire does include many of standard classical works on many of her recordings). On this CD, she performs two pieces by Antonio Vivaldi, four by J.S. Bach, and one by Tommaso Alibinoni. The concerto pieces accompaniment by the Zurcher Kammerorchester under the direction of Howard Griffiths.

The opening piece is Vivaldi's Concerto in D major, R. 93. This is a work which is easily recognized, particularly the second movement, the Largo. Isbin is a master of the classical guitar (she is the director of the guitar department at the Julliard School), and her performance of Vivaldi is soulful and exciting. There's not a lot of ornamentation in the original music, but Isbin adds her own embellishments.

According to the liner notes, Vivaldi's A major concerto was originally composed as a trio sonata for violin, lute, and continuo, with the lute and violin parts nearly identical. Isbin uses arrangements for the work (and the D major piece) by Emilio Pujol, which add a viola, and makes the guitar part more prominent.

The works by Bach include a transcription of his Concerto in A minor BWV 1041, and Adagio from a keyboard concerto, a prelude, and the well-known Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.

According to her web site (which includes a lengthy list of groups with which she has performed) Isbin began playing guitar at the age of nine. It also says she is a bit of an outdoor enthusiast, backpacking and cross-country skiing. Her recordings have won Grammy Awards in classical music. She studied with the legendary Andres Segovia, and is one of the premier guitarists in the world. This article tells a bit of the story of how she was trained and how she got started.

Classical guitar can be a mood setting kind of music, in both solo works and as part of an ensemble. A person wanting to become acquainted with this aspect of classical music would do well to start with one of over twenty of Isbin's recordings.

Bix Beiderbecke

2004-09-23T17:49:00.000-04:00

Bix Beiderbecke
Originally uploaded by mwthomas87.

Leon "Bix" Beiderbecke was one of the first great jazz musicians. His influence can still be felt to this day despite his early death due to alcoholism.
During his brief but brilliant career (he died at the age of 28) Bix crossed paths with an amazing cast of musicians from the golden age of jazz. As I mentioned previously Bix was friends with Bing Crosby when they both played for the Paul Whiteman Orchestra in the late 1920s. Other musical acquaintances included his good friend the alto saxophonist Frankie "Tram" Trumbauer, guitarist Eddie Lang (who would also die at a very young age), violinist Joe Venuti, trombonist Jack Teagarden, future band leaders Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey, songwriter Hoagy Carmichael, clarinetist Benny Goodman and drummer Gene Krupa.

You can read a couple of good, concise biographies of Bix here and here. There is a web site devoted to his memory here. His hometown of Davenport, Iowa also sponsors an annual festival in his honor.

You can listen to song samples from this two volume collection Vol. 1: Singin' the Blues and Vol. 2: At the Jazz Band Ball.

But my personal favorite is Bix 'N' Bing, a collection of recordings on which both he and Bing Crosby performed.

When I first began listening to Bix's music I could tell that it was different from the other great coronet players like Louis Armstrong, Dizzie Gillespie and Miles Davis. But I was hard pressed to describe what about it was different. Here is how the biography at the Ken Burns web site tells it:

From relatively undistinguished influences, Beiderbecke developed a beautiful and original style. His distinctive, bell like tone (his friend Hoagy Carmichael described it as resembling a chime struck by a mallet) achieved additional intensity through his unorthodox fingering, which often led him to play certain notes as higher partials in lower overtone series, imparting a slightly different timbre and intonation to successive pitches. With his basically unchanging tone as a foil, Beiderbecke relied for expressiveness on pitch choice, pacing, and rhythmic placement (as opposed to Louis Armstrong, who systematically used variety of timbre).

Even more interesting, I thought, was this description on the Riverwalk Jazz site that talks about how Bix's music was influenced by some of the great classical composers of the time including Debussy, Ravel and Rimsky-Korsakov:

...The music Bix left behind consists of his brilliant recorded work on cornet with the bands mentioned above, plus his solo piano compositions In A Mist, In The Dark, Candle Light, and Flashes, known collectively as the Modern Suite. In Bix's work, one clearly hears the influence of Impressionist composers Debussy, Ravel, Satie, and others as well as the great jazz masters. It is acknowledged that Bix had a wide musical influence on his contemporaries and beyond, especially on the young Hoagy Carmichael, whose composition Skylark originally bore the title Bix Licks.

Don Ingle says, "Bix was not only influenced by the Impressionists, but also by the post Romantics, including the transitional American McDowell, American impressionist Eastwood Lane, and to some extent by Russians like Rimsky-Korsakov. Dad [Red Ingle] recalled Bix playing Sheherezade on an old windup player while they were killing daytime before the gig at Castle Farms near Cincinnati in 1927. Bix was especially interested in how the orchestration made use of various combinations of instruments to achieve color. That, dad told me, suggested that his interest was shifting to the manner in which the music evolved, not just the playing of it."

Vivaldi Double Concerti

2004-09-20T13:12:00.000-04:00

This morning I listened to a CD of Antonio Vivaldi's Six Double Concertos for Flute, Violin, Strings, and Harpsichord. This is a recording featuring Jean-Pierre Rampal on flute (a world reknown flautist), Isaac Stern on violin (a world reknown violinist), and the Franz Liszt Chamber Orchestra led by Janos Rolla.

The six concerti on this recording were originally written for two violins, but Stern and Rampal arranged them to include a flute. Where the music occasionally went outside the range of the flute, Stern and Rampal exchanged parts. It wasn't obvious to me where this was done, but that's part of the fun of playing and hearing Baroque music.

These are relatively short pieces; each three-part concerto ranges in time from eight to twelve minutes. All the concerti follow the familiar allegro-andante/largo-allegro (fast-slow-fast) tempo scheme. They are excellent examples of the Baroque musical style.

While Vivaldi (1678-1741) was a popular composer in his day, his music lay dormant for two hundred years before it was rediscovered and revived in the 1940's. Today Vivaldi's most familiar pieces are his Four Seasons concerti, which have been featured in film and television. But Vivaldi was a productive composer, writing mostly concerti of various types.

For thirty-five years Vivaldi worked in a school for orphaned girls. Many of his works were written to be performed in the school's Sunday afternoon public concerts. As many of these works are technical, the school orchestra must have been fairly talented. After awhile, the Viennese wealthy began sending their daughters to the school for musical training, though it was intended to be a school for the poor and orphaned.

It's pleasant to imagine a sunny Sunday afternoon with an all-girl orchestra, with two leading violinists out front, playing these concerti for any and all who would come to listen.

Mozart's Early Symphonies

2004-09-19T13:24:00.000-04:00

Recently I was listening to a tape on the "Mozart Effect". On the tape, Don Campbell plays the first movement of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Symphony No. 1 in E Flat Major, K. 16.

This got me interested in Mozart's early work. His Symphony No. 1 was written when he was only eight years old in 1765. In all he wrote four symphonies that year. These are not staggeringly large compositions - the first symphony lasts around eight and a half minutes - but they show an amazing amount of talent for an eight year old. (His next symphony is only a little more than seven minutes long.) His first four are three movement pieces; after that he would compose four movement symphonies.

According to the biography Mozart by Marcia Davenport published in 1932 Mozart composed his first symphony when his musician father Leopold fell ill and silence was prescribed. Mozart used the quiet time to compose the work, with his sister by his side to "remind me that I give the horns plenty to do."

It's pretty hard to find recordings of his early symphonies. Usually you find them in collections of his complete symphonies, such as this one. At that link, however, you can hear parts of his early symphonies to get a taste of what they are like.

Heebie Jeebies

2004-09-11T01:07:00.000-04:00

Louis Armstrong
Originally uploaded by mwthomas87.

Louis Armstrong's 1926 recording of Heebie Jeebies
was not the first song to introduce skat singing to the world, but it probably did more to popularize the vocal jazz form than anything before it.
What was originally intended to be a novelty song and the B-side behind Cornet Chop Suey turned out to be Armstrong's first hit, selling more than 40,000 copies within a few months.
The song starts out fairly simply with a strumming banjo and a piano establishing the basic rhythym before being joined by trombone, clarinet and Armstrong's coronet. It is a bright and peppy number, but what distinguishes it and makes it stand out is Armstrong's vocals in the middle of the song.
The Heebie Jeebie was a popular dance at the time and the lyrics which can be found here are not particularly remarkable except for Armstrong's enthusiastic delivery:

Say, I've got the heebies,
I mean the jeebies,
Talking about
The dance, the heebie jeebies,
Do, because they're boys,
Because it pleases me to be joy!
Say, don't you know it?
You don't know how, don't be blue,
Someone will teach you;
Come on, and do that dance,
They call the heebie jeebies dance,
Yes, ma'am,
Papa's got the heebie jeebies dance!

At this point, Armstrong suddenly takes off with a lengthy chorus of nonsense syllables that meld with the music:

Skatting...
Say, come on, now, and do that dance,
They call the heebie jeebies dance,
Sweet mama!
Papa's got to do the heebie jeebies dance!
Spoken:
Wooh! Got the heebie jeebies!
Whatcha doin' with the heebies?
I just have to have the heebies!

The legend that has evolved around this song is that Armstrong's skatting was not intentional and was prompted by his accidently knocking the sheet music to the floor in the middle of the recording. Because recordings were expensive, the producer did not want to stop and signaled for Louis to continue, which he did despite not knowing the words.
Of course, this isn't really what happened, but it is a fun story nonetheless and one that Armstrong is said to have encouraged after a while.

In the book that accompanies Ken Burns' Jazz documentary, Mezz Mezzrow, a Chicago-born clarinetist and contemporary of Bix Biederbecke, is quoted saying that for months after Heebie Jeebies was released you would hear people greeting each other all over Chicago with Louis' riffs and skatting to one another...

"Louis' skatting almost drove the English language out of the Windy City for good."

Handel's Concerti Grossi Op. 6

2004-09-09T16:08:00.000-04:00

Around the mid 1980's there was a series of TV commercials for investment firm E.F. Hutton. In these commercials, there would be two people in crowded surroundings talking about investments. At one point, one of the talkers would say, "Well, my broker is E.F. Hutton. And E.F. Hutton says..." at which point the speaker would look around and notice the crowd had stopped talking and were listening to what he was about to say. The kicker to the ad would be a voice that said, "When E.F. Hutton talks, people listen."

About that same time, in one of those humor compilations in Reader's Digest, there was an anecdote in which a woman, fond of classical music, had a T-shirt made which said, "My Baroquer is G.F. Handel."

This week I've been listening to some of the concerti grossi of Handel's Op. 6. There are twelve of these in all, although the collections to which I've been listening has only numbers 1,2,6,7, and 10. (A recording for all of them can be found here.)

These works were composed all in a single month by Handel in the year 1739. The concerti include music and dances from all over Europe, including jigs and hornpipes.

Handel is probably best known for his Water Music, and his Music for the Royal Fireworks. There's a good website dedicated to him here, so I won't repeat what they have.

For those not in the know, the "Baroque" period in art is generally considered the time between 1600 and 1750. Art of this time is characterized by an attention to detail. Much of the music composed during this period uses polyphony, which is essentially multiple voices or instruments playing different tunes all at one time, the music written such that, rather than chaotic noise, the various melodies compliment each other. Example composers of this period include Handel, Vivaldi (known for The Four Seasons), and Bach (known for all kinds of stuff).

Handel's music has appeal to the intellect, as does much of Baroque music with its interplay of instruments and use of counterpoint. But there's whimsy to be found in his works, such as the Allegro movement of the No. 7 concerto, which reminds one of a chicken clucking. (You can hear a midi version of the music here.)
It's fun stuff, this Handel.

Evgeny Kissin

2004-09-03T18:27:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago I was in my doctor's office and she had a CD playing on her computer CD drive. I listened for a bit, and thought to myself, "That piece sounds familiar." On top of a stack of discs was the jewel case for the CD. It was Chopin's Piano Concerti 1 and 2. On the spine was the name Kissin.

As I listened, I thought to myself, "Pretty good. There's a lot of feeling in the piano playing." My doctor came in and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, does the music bother you?" "Not at all, I like this piece," I replied.

She said, "Would you believe the guy playing piano was only twelve years old when he recorded that?"

"What!?"

"Yeah! I thought you had to be pretty mature to play Chopin with so much feeling, but he was only twelve!"

And indeed he was. Evgeny Kissin was twelve when he recorded the two piano concerti on March 27, 1984, with the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Dmitri Kitaenko.

Born in Moscow in 1971 (according to this site and many others), Kissin was the son of a piano playing mother and a father who was an engineer. He began playing piano at the age of two. At the age six he was sent off to a school for gifted youth, and history was made.

As I write this, the Chopin's Piano Concerto (No. 1 in E minor, Op. 11) is playing. It isn't just amazing that a twelve year old could put so much feeling into a piece, there's also a fantastic amount of skill and virtuosity on display in this recording. The concerto requires quite a bit of dexterity, and Kissin pulls it off with ease.

This week I got another recording of a Kissin performance, the Piano Concerto No. 3, in D minor, Op. 30, of Sergei Rachmaninoff. On this CD he plays with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under conductor Seiji Ozawa. Rachmaninoff was a fantastic piano player, and his own compositions were written to show off his talent. The third piano concerto is a highly technical piece, with alternative music for some of the more difficult passages. But Kissin plays the music as it was written, with its tremendous runs up and down the keyboard. Clearly, Kissin is a master of the piano, and shows it in this demanding piece.

The site listed above states that he also composes, though I have not seen any recordings of his own works. Apparently he plays a limited number of concerts. Hopefully there will be CD's of his compositions, they might prove to be historic.

(If you have realplayer, you can hear some of the Chopin here...scroll down.)

More Dvorak

2004-08-30T18:03:00.000-04:00

Got a whole stack of new music today, and hope to blog about them this week. But before I do that, I want to talk a little more about Antonin Dvorak, and two CD's I have in my collection.

The first is a collection of Works for Cello and Orchestra. The CD includes his Concerto for Cello and Orchestra in B minor, Op. 104; Klid ("Silent Woods") Piece for Cello and Orchestra; and Rondo for Cello and Orchestra in G minor, Op. 94.

According to the CD insert (what used to be called "liner notes", remember them?) Brahms' is purported to have said, "If only I'd known you could write a cello concerto that way! I should've written one long ago!" (As mentioned in my previous post, Brahms was a big supporter of Dvorak). Dvorak had a close, creative friendship with Czech cellist Hanus Wihan, to whom the concerto is dedicated. Apparently Wihan had written a cadenza based on the themes from the first two (of three movements), however Dvorak refused to include it. There is some debate as to whether this difference of opinion is what caused Wihan to refuse the opportunity to play at the debut of the piece.

The concerto was written in 1894-95, after he wrote the New World symphony mentioned earlier.

To prepare for this entry, I listened again to the concerto this afternoon. The first two movements did not really (pardon the pun) move me very much, though Dvorak himself said that, of the second theme of the first movement, "I am moved every time I play it." The third movement, the finale, sounds like a march and a dance, and is very enjoyable.

Of the two other pieces on the CD; these were arranged by the composer in order for Wihan to showcase his talents during a tour in 1892 with Dvorak and violinist Ferdinand Lachner. The Rondo was written in four days over Christmas of 1891. Klid was transcribed from a piano duet (Op. 68).

While the liner notes describe the Rondo as "veiled in bitter sorrow", I didn't get that from the piece. While there are brooding parts, there are brighter passages which for me stood out more to make the piece likeable. Klid ("Silent Woods") is a very melodic piece, a sort of orchestral Unchained Melody that is very nice, though short.

The second CD I want to mention contains a pair of serenades, String Serenade, Op. 22 and Wind Serenade, Op. 44.

In 1875 Dvorak's compositions were discovered by Johannes Brahms and Vienna critic Eduard Hanslick. These two gentlemen recommended him for a government grant, which was given. Dvorak's dream on becoming a musician and composer had paid off. The String Serenade is dated to 1875, and was publicly performed in 1876. Apparently these were happy times for Dvorak; he had married in 1873, and his opera The King and Collier had been successful in 1874. The String Serenade is a very nice work, the second movement (of five) containing dances which are engaging.

The Wind Serenade was completed in early 1878, and was performed at a concert later that year, a concert which featured Dvorak's work and in which he himself conducted. The liner notes describe the first movement as a "rather comically pompous march of a village band to the green to give a concert." The final movement again suggests the village band marching off at the end.

All in all, I enjoyed the serenades most of the two CD's. The version I have is unavailable, but you can find other versions, notably the one linked above.

Ain't No Sweet Man (Worth the Salt of My Tears)

2004-08-26T18:11:00.000-04:00

There are at least two recordings of “Ain’t No Sweet Man (Worth the Salt of My Tears)” by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra that I am aware of. The one I first fell in love with is on disc 1 of the Ken Burns Jazz Box Set. It was recorded on Feb. 28, 1928, and featured Bix Beiderbecke on coronet. Bix was one of the first great white jazz musicians. He was inspired by Louis Armstrong, but rather than imitating him he developed his own style of playing that would influence the next generation of jazz players. Unfortunately, Bix would die at an early age due to alcoholism.
The Paul Whiteman Orchestra was one of the most popular “jazz” groups in the 1920s and ‘30s and included some of the greatest early jazz pioneers including Bix Beiderbecke, Frankie Trumbauer, Eddie Lang, Joe Venuti, Jack Teagarden, Jimmie Dorsey and many others. Several can be heard on this recording along with Bix. Frankie Trumbauer plays the C-Melody Saxophone; Jimmie Dorsey (Tommy Dorsey’s brother) plays the alto sax; and Paul Whiteman himself plays the violin.
This is a full orchestra number with two trumpets (in addition to Bix’s coronet), three trombones, five clarinets, three alto sax, a tenor sax, C-Melody sax, baritone sax, six violins, a piano, a banjo, a bass, a tuba, drums and a vocal group.
It was the vocal number in the middle of the song (they come in about 1:20 into the piece) that most struck me when I first heard it. I knew that voice! When I looked at the lineup it became obvious - The Ryhthm Boys - featuring Bing Crosby - but still I was surprised. I had always associated Bing Crosby with popular music of the ‘40s (and Christmas music) so I was taken aback to hear him stand out in this early jazz tune.
Thus began my ongoing infatuation with The Crooner of which I will write more about later.
You can tell that they had fun with this number. They didn’t bother to change the lyrics, which were written from the woman’s point of view, and Crosby has a way of trilling certain words and putting emphasis in just the right spots. He solos for most of the song with the other Ryhthm Boys (Harry Barris and Al Rinker) joining in for the scatting at the end of each verse - plus Barris’ trademark ‘tah!’ imitating the sound of a cymbal strike.

Here are the lyrics:

Shakin' like a leaf on a tree,
That's coming loose from the stem;
Shakin' like a leaf on a tree,
Because I'm coming loose from my man!

I'm like a weeping willow,
Weeping on my pillow,
For years and years,
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba-ba-da-doo, wah da da da do, wah da da ba do, wha da-oh!

Down and down he dragged me,
Like a fiend he nagged me,
For years and years,
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba da da da da da do!

Although I may be blue,
Still, I'm true,
I must tell him good-bye!
Rather than have that man,
Gonna lay me down and just die!
Da-oh!

Broken-hearted sisters,
Aggravating misters, lend me your ears!
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba-ba-da-doo, wah da da da do, wah da da ba do, wha da-oh!
Ba-da wah da-oh! Shh!

The other version of this song can be found on Bix n Bing which is a wonderful compilation of early jazz tunes in which Bix and Bing are both featured. They were best of friends at the time.

Antonin Dvorak and The New World Symphony

2004-08-21T19:26:00.000-04:00

An understanding of classical music in general, and the symphony in particular, came to me when studying Antonin Dvorak's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, also referred to as the New World Symphony.

One of the jobs I had to pay my way through undergraduate college was working as a ticket agent in a Trailways bus station. In between buses and customers there could be long lapses of time with nothing to do. One afternoon I sat with a book on music appreciation (I can't find the book, though I know I have it somewhere) and a tape player with a recording of the New World symphony. The book had an entire chapter dedicated to this piece of music, chosen because the themes in the work are somewhat obvious and they repeat several times. In the chapter were bits of written music that showed the themes, and I could read enough music to know what they should be. I played the first few minutes of the first movement over and over until I finally heard the theme.

It was as if some sort of aural curtain had fallen from my ears. I did hear the theme, and heard it repeat again and again, and heard the variations on it. It took some time, but eventually I heard another theme, and finally I begin to grasp that classical music is not some semi-random series of notes but that there is form and structure to it, and, furthermore, beauty.

Dvorak was born September 8, 1841 in Bohemia, the son of an innkeeper. He studied at the Organ School of Prague from 1857 to 1859, and played viola for the Czech National Theater Orchestra from 1861 to 1871. He was a contemporary and friend of Johannes Brahms, who was one of his biggest advocates. He also worked with Bedrich Smetana; together these two would put Czech nationalism into classical music works.

There's a great write-up of how Dvorak came to the United States. He was lured to America by a patroness of music with a promise of a huge salary. One of his students was a black musician by the name of Henry Thacker Burleigh. Burleigh introduced the Negro spiritual to Dvorak (purportedly Swing Low, Sweet Chariot). It was in Black and Native American music that Dvorak believed America could find and develop its musical heritage. This was the inspiration for his ninth symphony.

The symphony's first movement (adagio allegro molto) starts with a quiet introduction that builds in volume and hints at the first theme. After a tympanic cadence, the first theme is introduced and repeated by different parts of the orchestra. Soon other themes in both major and minor chords are introduced, and Dvorak intersperses the themes and moves in and out of them throughout the movement. One of the things that is so great about this piece of music is that the themes are obvious and repeat enough times that they are easy to hear.

The second movement (largo) is a beautiful piece of music. The first theme you hear was later turned into the folk song/jazz tune Going Home.

If you were lulled by the second movement, the third movement (scherzo: molto vivace) will wake you up with an introduction from tympany and a simple theme from the woodwinds. This gives way to a theme that evokes visions of a quiet countryside. The first theme is never far away, however, and even the first theme from the first movement will make a brief cameo.

The introduction to the fourth movement (allegro cob fuoco) reminds one of the theme from the movie Jaws. Themes from earlier in the work, including Going Home will make an appearance again here, and new themes will be developed.

What is there to say about this piece of music? It is wonderful to just sit back and listen, and does not require some sort of expert's ear to appreciate. It is an evocative work. If you are looking to get started in classical music, this work is a good place to start.