Today the American composer George Gershwin was born in 1898. Gershwin's music is where classical meets jazz. He started early in life as a pianist, and together with his older brother, Ira, eventually wrote many popular songs, such as "I Got Rhythm".
His first major classical work is Rhapsody in Blue, perhaps the most well-known American work of our time. Fantasia 2000 made a cartoon to go along with it, as seen/heard here (parts 1 and 2). Apparently Gerswhin told one of his biographer's the following: "It was on the train, with its steely rhythms, its rattle-ty bang, that is so often so stimulating to a composer – I frequently hear music in the very heart of the noise... And there I suddenly heard, and even saw on paper – the complete construction of the Rhapsody, from beginning to end. No new themes came to me, but I worked on the thematic material already in my mind and tried to conceive the composition as a whole. I heard it as a sort of musical kaleidoscope of America, of our vast melting pot, of our unduplicated national pep, of our blues, our metropolitan madness. By the time I reached Boston I had a definite plot of the piece, as distinguished from its actual substance."
Another one of his popular pieces, "An American in Paris" was written by him after a brief stay in Paris, where he tried to study with Nadia Boulanger, Maurice Ravel, and a few others. None of these teachers worked out. Ravel refused to teach him - he was too impressed with Gershwin's jazz style and instead suggested that Gershwin teach him. I got the following quote from wikipedia, apparently from the program notes at the premiere:
"My purpose here is to portray the impression of an American visitor in Paris as he strolls about the city and listens to various street noises and absorbs the French atmosphere." When the tone poem moves into the blues, "our American friend ... has succumbed to a spasm of homesickness." But, "nostalgia is not a fatal disease." The American visitor "once again is an alert spectator of Parisian life" and "the street noises and French atmosphere are triumphant."
Here are the first, second (The Blues), and third movements. This is classy-jazz at it's best!
Another one of my favorites, although not as well-known or loved, is his Concerto in F, a full-length, three-movement piano concerto, orchestrated completely by the composer himself (Ferde Grofe had orchestrated his Rhapsody in Blue). Here is the end of the 2nd movement and entire third movement. It gives a great taste of the bluesy 2nd movement (very moving piece), and the energetic, driving, machine-gun of a 3rd movement, which absolutely holds me spell-bound whenever I listen to it.
Let's finish with one of his most famous piano pieces - Prelude No. 2 from his 3 preludes for piano. Hope you've enjoyed this classical jazz!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Composer of Soviet Russia
Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich was born today in 1906. He is a somewhat eclectic composer, having started out by borrowing from many other styles, such as Mahler, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Hindemith, etc., but also clearly influenced by Bach and Beethoven. When I first heard his music, I couldn't identify it. I learned to always guess that if I couldn't tell who the composer was (and it sounded late-romantic to modern), it was probably Shostakovich. His style grew and became very much his own, however, turning into one of the most popular composers of the middle-20th century.
Shostakovich stayed in Soviet Russia his whole life, and his already nervous character was not helped much by the official denunciations of the Soviet party on two occasions. He was also given awards by the Soviets at other times. His was a difficult life, trying to please, but also inwardly in turmoil about joining the party and giving into their pressure.
His music is very unique and interesting, though I am only beginning to really get into it. Here are a few pieces I have enjoyed.
Piano Concerto No. 1 (1933) - an interesting piece, also featuring a trumpet in a kind of supporting role. Here is a pretty wild excerpt of the young composer himself playing the final cadenza and finale of the last movement of the piece. Shostakovich usually played his own works very fast and apparently said once "let's play fast so the audience doesn't get bored". When asked why he would speed up, ignoring his own metronome markings, he said something like "my metronome at home doesn't work anyway, so let's just ignore those markings!"
Piano Concerto No. 2 (1957) - a very cheerful piece, more-so than most of his other works. The first movement was introduced to me when I watched Fantasia 2000 for the first time - it is played to the visual of the Steadfast Tin Soldier, and fits so well, it almost seems like the piece was written for Disney!
Piano Quintet in G minor (1940) - one of his best known and loved chamber works. I had the good fortune to perform this in college. It is a monumental work, full of intense passion, brooding introspection, tenderness, and both vulgar and lighthearted humor. It is in 5 movements. The first movement begins with the piano, building to an intense interaction between the strings, then dies down again and becomes more brisk, only to build and slow down to more intensity. It leads into the second movement, a very beautiful, introspective fugue starting with the violins, then cello, then viola, then finally piano. This is one of the most moving (and yet intellectually satisfying) pieces in the modern literature! It gets very dissonant and intense before calming down again and disappearing quietly. The third movement is all fun and games - racuous melodies, confusing rhythms, ironic and full of humor - lots of fun to play! The fourth movement is more steady, introspective, tinged with sadness and regret. It leads directly into the fifth movement as out of darkness into the light - a quietly contented, cheerful, and later, joyous and downright triumphant movement. The ending is so carefree and refreshing after all the preceding intensity. A real treasure!
It also had real impact on the people during the time it was written. Apparently the following quote is from Rostislav Dubinsky, violinist of the Borodin Quartet, out of his book, Not By Music Alone: "For a time the Quintet overshadowed even such events as the football matches between the main teams. The Quintet was discussed in trams, people tried to sing in the streets the second defiant theme of the finale. War that soon started completely changed the life of the country as well as the consciousness of the people. If previously there was the faint hope of a better life, and the hope that the 'sacrifices' of the revolution were not in vain, this hope was never to return. The Quintet remained in the consciousness of the people as the last ray of light before the future sank into a dark gloom."
Shostakovich wrote 15 symphonies as well, the first composer to have broken the "Curse of the 9", which Beethoven started more than a century before (all major symphonists after Beethoven died while writing their 10th symphony, or never got close to 10 symphonies - Schubert, Dvorak, Mahler, Brahms...) I really don't know any of them, so I'm not going to link them here. That's about all I can handle right now...
Shostakovich stayed in Soviet Russia his whole life, and his already nervous character was not helped much by the official denunciations of the Soviet party on two occasions. He was also given awards by the Soviets at other times. His was a difficult life, trying to please, but also inwardly in turmoil about joining the party and giving into their pressure.
His music is very unique and interesting, though I am only beginning to really get into it. Here are a few pieces I have enjoyed.
Piano Concerto No. 1 (1933) - an interesting piece, also featuring a trumpet in a kind of supporting role. Here is a pretty wild excerpt of the young composer himself playing the final cadenza and finale of the last movement of the piece. Shostakovich usually played his own works very fast and apparently said once "let's play fast so the audience doesn't get bored". When asked why he would speed up, ignoring his own metronome markings, he said something like "my metronome at home doesn't work anyway, so let's just ignore those markings!"
Piano Concerto No. 2 (1957) - a very cheerful piece, more-so than most of his other works. The first movement was introduced to me when I watched Fantasia 2000 for the first time - it is played to the visual of the Steadfast Tin Soldier, and fits so well, it almost seems like the piece was written for Disney!
Piano Quintet in G minor (1940) - one of his best known and loved chamber works. I had the good fortune to perform this in college. It is a monumental work, full of intense passion, brooding introspection, tenderness, and both vulgar and lighthearted humor. It is in 5 movements. The first movement begins with the piano, building to an intense interaction between the strings, then dies down again and becomes more brisk, only to build and slow down to more intensity. It leads into the second movement, a very beautiful, introspective fugue starting with the violins, then cello, then viola, then finally piano. This is one of the most moving (and yet intellectually satisfying) pieces in the modern literature! It gets very dissonant and intense before calming down again and disappearing quietly. The third movement is all fun and games - racuous melodies, confusing rhythms, ironic and full of humor - lots of fun to play! The fourth movement is more steady, introspective, tinged with sadness and regret. It leads directly into the fifth movement as out of darkness into the light - a quietly contented, cheerful, and later, joyous and downright triumphant movement. The ending is so carefree and refreshing after all the preceding intensity. A real treasure!
It also had real impact on the people during the time it was written. Apparently the following quote is from Rostislav Dubinsky, violinist of the Borodin Quartet, out of his book, Not By Music Alone: "For a time the Quintet overshadowed even such events as the football matches between the main teams. The Quintet was discussed in trams, people tried to sing in the streets the second defiant theme of the finale. War that soon started completely changed the life of the country as well as the consciousness of the people. If previously there was the faint hope of a better life, and the hope that the 'sacrifices' of the revolution were not in vain, this hope was never to return. The Quintet remained in the consciousness of the people as the last ray of light before the future sank into a dark gloom."
Shostakovich wrote 15 symphonies as well, the first composer to have broken the "Curse of the 9", which Beethoven started more than a century before (all major symphonists after Beethoven died while writing their 10th symphony, or never got close to 10 symphonies - Schubert, Dvorak, Mahler, Brahms...) I really don't know any of them, so I'm not going to link them here. That's about all I can handle right now...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
The Father of Atonality
The Austrian-Jewish composer Arnold Schoenberg was born today in 1874. Known as the "emancipator of dissonance", Schoenberg started out as a continuation of the romantic tradition of Brahms, Wagner, Richard Strauss, and Mahler, but in the early 1900's, he moved into atonality. His twelve-tone-row technique was a method that gave equal treatment to all 12 half-steps in the chromatic scale, leaving his compositions without a key signature.
His earliest important work is called "Transfigured Night", still written in a late-romantic tradition with heavy use of chromaticism (such as Wagner's Tristan and Isolde). Here is an excerpt.
A few years later, Schoenberg was to come up with his revolutionary ideas. Here is a short film documenting his ideas. Here is a short piano solo piece illustrating the result of his compositional style.
Perhaps to most of us, it is more enjoyable to listen to people talk about Schoenberg's music than to listen to the music itself. :) Furthermore, listening to people describe Schoenberg who love his music really helps one understand it better. Here's a really fascinating discussion and excerpts of a rehearsal of his piano concerto by Mitsuko Uchida, who describes the music and her love for it with great eloquence. Also, Glenn Gould and Yehudi Menuhin discuss Schoenberg and then play a piece together.
I consider myself somewhat musically educated. I can appreciate a wide variety of music, even very modern sounding stuff. I have a hard time getting excited by Schoenberg, however. Oh sure, I find some of it interesting and even fascinating (see excerpt of Uchida above). But it seems that when tonality is lost, the emotional range of the music is severely limited. Can atonal pieces express anger, rage, despair, depression, fear? Absolutely - maybe they are the best for these emotions. They may even be able to evoke a spirit of lightheartedness or humor. But can atonal music express joy, peace, contentedness, fulfillment, beauty? I am inclined to think not. I'm not saying this music has no place. Under the right conditions and at the right time, this music is appropriate (certainly would help in certain movies!). But I think going atonal has lost a large depth of what music can express...
His earliest important work is called "Transfigured Night", still written in a late-romantic tradition with heavy use of chromaticism (such as Wagner's Tristan and Isolde). Here is an excerpt.
A few years later, Schoenberg was to come up with his revolutionary ideas. Here is a short film documenting his ideas. Here is a short piano solo piece illustrating the result of his compositional style.
Perhaps to most of us, it is more enjoyable to listen to people talk about Schoenberg's music than to listen to the music itself. :) Furthermore, listening to people describe Schoenberg who love his music really helps one understand it better. Here's a really fascinating discussion and excerpts of a rehearsal of his piano concerto by Mitsuko Uchida, who describes the music and her love for it with great eloquence. Also, Glenn Gould and Yehudi Menuhin discuss Schoenberg and then play a piece together.
I consider myself somewhat musically educated. I can appreciate a wide variety of music, even very modern sounding stuff. I have a hard time getting excited by Schoenberg, however. Oh sure, I find some of it interesting and even fascinating (see excerpt of Uchida above). But it seems that when tonality is lost, the emotional range of the music is severely limited. Can atonal pieces express anger, rage, despair, depression, fear? Absolutely - maybe they are the best for these emotions. They may even be able to evoke a spirit of lightheartedness or humor. But can atonal music express joy, peace, contentedness, fulfillment, beauty? I am inclined to think not. I'm not saying this music has no place. Under the right conditions and at the right time, this music is appropriate (certainly would help in certain movies!). But I think going atonal has lost a large depth of what music can express...
Friday, September 5, 2008
Rachel's reactions to Wagner
I missed Richard Wagner's birthday on May 22, partially because I was so busy, and partially because I didn't feel inspired at the time. I don't really listen to his music much, and never have been much into opera.
But just a few days ago, as I was driving to the store with my 2-year-old, Rachel, I turned on the radio to listen to some music. Jim Svejda of classical KUSC was introducing a piece by Wagner. It was a 1940's recording of the Prelude from his opera, Tristan and Isolde, arranged for violin, piano, and orchestra, for a movie. Svedja's words were something like "this overblown, emotional rendition was calculated to leave not a dry eye in the audience". I half-listened as we drove and half-day-dreamed about I can't remember what (my eyes were dry, though).
When we arrived at the market, I turned off the music and the car and opened up the door to get Rachel out. She looked very forlorn, and was quietly saying "it's OK... it's OK... it's OK" (note: Rachel has begun at a very young age to practice "self-talk" when she's distressed). I couldn't figure out what had upset her, unsuccessful at getting her to tell me what the matter was. Then it dawned on me.
Me: "Rachel, did the music make you sad?"
Rachel: "Yeah." (tears start flowing and she starts wailing and crying)
Me: "It's OK, baby. Music makes daddy cry sometimes, too."
Rachel: (still wailing and crying)
Then I got her out of the car and she settled down pretty quickly, softly saying "it's OK... it's OK" to herself every few minutes, and every couple hours for the rest of the day.
Well, here is the famous prelude from Tristan and Isolde. It's actually quite an amazing piece. It is a very important composition, in which Wagner began to push the limits of tonality and harmony, influencing others after him (such as Mahler, Richard Strauss, and Schoenberg), eventually leading to the atonality of the 20th century. It is also very, very emotional, and can really tear you up inside if you're in a certain mood.
Rachel listens to another piece by Wagner quite regularly. The Ride of the Valkyries is probably Wagner's most famous work (besides the Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin), part of his opera, Die Walkure, from his famous Ring Cycle. I have grown up hearing this piece in all sorts of settings, from cartoons, to computer games, to... hearing it every morning at 7am blasted in the halls of my college dorm during finals week (a very odd tradition at my very fine undergraduate institution). I also heard it in its original context, while watching part of the opera in a class during college. It's quite a fine, moving, piece of music.
Rachel likes "The Ride" much better than she likes the Prelude to Tristan and Isolde. My wife got a birthday card last year that plays The Ride when you open it up. She gave it to Rachel to play with, and now Rachel totes it around the house, opening it up, giggling when she hears the music, and saying "It's Vogno! (Wagner)"... but she did cry the first time she heard it as well. This time, though, it was clearly out of fear, and not sadness. She was only about 14 months old at the time, and was rather startled when she opened the card up and this intense music started to play.
Well, there you have it. My daughter is extremely sensitive to music. Not unlike her daddy. I still remember when she was 6 months old and I played my wooden recorder for her. I played a very haunting melody that Dickon plays from the movie The Secret Garden (1987 version), and she started to curl her lip under, got tears in her eyes and cried. This happened every time I played that piece, until she finally grew to cry every time I played the recorder. Then I had to stop playing the recorder altogether for about a year. She isn't afraid of it anymore. Music does powerful things to her emotions, even from such a young age!
But just a few days ago, as I was driving to the store with my 2-year-old, Rachel, I turned on the radio to listen to some music. Jim Svejda of classical KUSC was introducing a piece by Wagner. It was a 1940's recording of the Prelude from his opera, Tristan and Isolde, arranged for violin, piano, and orchestra, for a movie. Svedja's words were something like "this overblown, emotional rendition was calculated to leave not a dry eye in the audience". I half-listened as we drove and half-day-dreamed about I can't remember what (my eyes were dry, though).
When we arrived at the market, I turned off the music and the car and opened up the door to get Rachel out. She looked very forlorn, and was quietly saying "it's OK... it's OK... it's OK" (note: Rachel has begun at a very young age to practice "self-talk" when she's distressed). I couldn't figure out what had upset her, unsuccessful at getting her to tell me what the matter was. Then it dawned on me.
Me: "Rachel, did the music make you sad?"
Rachel: "Yeah." (tears start flowing and she starts wailing and crying)
Me: "It's OK, baby. Music makes daddy cry sometimes, too."
Rachel: (still wailing and crying)
Then I got her out of the car and she settled down pretty quickly, softly saying "it's OK... it's OK" to herself every few minutes, and every couple hours for the rest of the day.
Well, here is the famous prelude from Tristan and Isolde. It's actually quite an amazing piece. It is a very important composition, in which Wagner began to push the limits of tonality and harmony, influencing others after him (such as Mahler, Richard Strauss, and Schoenberg), eventually leading to the atonality of the 20th century. It is also very, very emotional, and can really tear you up inside if you're in a certain mood.
Rachel listens to another piece by Wagner quite regularly. The Ride of the Valkyries is probably Wagner's most famous work (besides the Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin), part of his opera, Die Walkure, from his famous Ring Cycle. I have grown up hearing this piece in all sorts of settings, from cartoons, to computer games, to... hearing it every morning at 7am blasted in the halls of my college dorm during finals week (a very odd tradition at my very fine undergraduate institution). I also heard it in its original context, while watching part of the opera in a class during college. It's quite a fine, moving, piece of music.
Rachel likes "The Ride" much better than she likes the Prelude to Tristan and Isolde. My wife got a birthday card last year that plays The Ride when you open it up. She gave it to Rachel to play with, and now Rachel totes it around the house, opening it up, giggling when she hears the music, and saying "It's Vogno! (Wagner)"... but she did cry the first time she heard it as well. This time, though, it was clearly out of fear, and not sadness. She was only about 14 months old at the time, and was rather startled when she opened the card up and this intense music started to play.
Well, there you have it. My daughter is extremely sensitive to music. Not unlike her daddy. I still remember when she was 6 months old and I played my wooden recorder for her. I played a very haunting melody that Dickon plays from the movie The Secret Garden (1987 version), and she started to curl her lip under, got tears in her eyes and cried. This happened every time I played that piece, until she finally grew to cry every time I played the recorder. Then I had to stop playing the recorder altogether for about a year. She isn't afraid of it anymore. Music does powerful things to her emotions, even from such a young age!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)