Throwback Thursday

Throwback Thursday: “String Quintet in C, D. 956: II. Adagio,” Franz Schubert

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Ever get that feeling that the universe is up to something?  Like there is something going on and you don’t know what, but something is definitely up?  That’s how this week has felt to me and I’ve needed music constantly.  Anyone who knows me will tell you I never go anywhere without my headphones.  I literally never leave the house without those happy little wires running from my ears to my iPhone.  This week, the second movement of Schubert’s extraordinary string quintet has been on heavy rotation.

This piece is a prime example of why I just adore classical music.  It seeks out and absorbs your emotions like rice absorbs the water around salt crystals.  As rice expands in water, so too does music like this grow as it finds and absorb your thoughts and feelings, and in the end, you can see its real shape.  It helps you look inwards and check in with yourself – “oh, so that’s what’s going on.”  When you hear this piece, how do you feel?  What do you think about?  Where does your mind go?  Pay attention to whatever comes back to you; you may or may not be surprised.  For me, this piece magnifies both happiness and sadness, which is why I have been listening to it so much this week.  It calms me down the way sharing a burden with a worldly friend can be calming.  I have to be very careful listening to this piece, among others, when I’m in a certain kind of mood – otherwise it becomes too sodden and it takes on that mood’s shape permanently.

Your results may vary, of course.  But I hope it enhances and magnifies good things when you hear it.

REMIX WEEK! Throwback Thursday: “Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85, Adagio Moderato,” Edward Elgar Meets Venetian Snares

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I have listened to this Elgar cello concerto hundreds of times.  I bought a cheapo bargain basement recording during one of the many trips my parents and I took to visit colleges.  Years later, I bought this Venetian Snares album.  It took me another year to put the two together: the beginning of “Szamar Madar” is so demented, I always skipped over it.  One morning, while on the train to work, I listened to the entire thing and finally got to main meat of the piece and thought, “…wait…I know that line…  …Holy $%&! that’s Elgar?!?”  I was practically effervescent, I was so excited.

To save you the hassle, here’s a cheat sheet.  The cello line arrives in earnest around 1:47; before that there’s only snippets.  At 2:14: fasten your seatbelt.  Venetian Snares takes a beautiful and somber Elgar cello concerto, adds cocaine, and puts it in a blender.  My favorite part is at 2:54 when it smoothes out on top while the drums go bananas beneath.  And after all that, it just sort of slowly fades away, like a bruise, and you’re left wondering what just happened.  You have to love a band who hears Elgar and says, “yeah, that’s pretty…but what if we sampled the main cello lick, sped it up, and added a breakbeat beneath it?”  I just can’t get enough.

Original Elgar, played by Yo-Yo Ma:

Throwback Thursday: “Ecco La Primavera,” Francesco Landini

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EVERYONE!  Wonderful news!  We made it!  We made it through the winter!  Today is the first day of spring!  I don’t think I’ve so keenly anticipated the vernal equinox in my entire life.  Imagine how the poor sods who lived through winters in the 14th century felt when it came time for spring.  No wonder this piece is so happy.  

Landini (c. 1325 – 1397) lived through some pretty monumental things.  He survived the Black Death, initial and successive outbreaks of which killed about half the population of Europe.  He survived the so-called Little Ice Age, which made warm summers unpredictable and caused so much rainfall that crops failed.  He survived the Hundred Years War between England and France, lived through the near collapse of the Catholic church as an institution, and the rise of the Ming Dynasty and attendant isolation of China.

Somewhere in there, amidst all that unhappy uncertainty, he wrote this little tune about the return of spring.  I can imagine it might have taken a little bit of faith.

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Ecco la primavera,
Che’l cor fa rallegrare,
Temp’è d’annamorare
E star con lieta cera.

Noi vegiam l’aria e’l tempo
Che pur chiam’ allegria
In questo vago tempo
Ogni cosa vagheça.

L’erbe con gran frescheça
E fior’ coprono i prati,
E gli albori adornati
Sono in simil manera.

Ecco la primavera
Che’l cor fa rallegrare
Temp’è d’annamorare
E star con lieta cera.

Spring has come apace
To waken hearts to gladness;
Time for lovers’ madness
And to wear a happy face.

The elements together
Are beckoning to mirth;
In this delightful weather,
Delight pervades the earth.

The grass in fresh rebirth
Helps meadows come a-flower,
And every branch and bower,
Is decked with kindred grace.

Spring has come apace
To waken hearts to gladness;
Time for lovers’ madness
And to wear a happy face.

Throwback Thursday: “Variations on a Theme by Haydn,” Johannes Brahms

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAuqxEMRapg

First of all, it’s important for my erudite international readership to know that one of my very best friends refers to Haydn as “H-Man.”  This did play a small role in convincing me to post this piece today.  Not an enormous role, mind you, but still.  A small one.  I’ve also been feeling relatively braced with life in general these days, and in these moments of rare contentment, I turn to this masterpiece by Brahms.  It runs the gamut of emotions and starts out proud but not arrogant, and calm but not sedate.  It is also important to recognize that Claudio Abbado is at the baton in this, my favorite recording.

Brahms, a native of Hamburg, Germany, lived from 1833 to 1897 and is one of the most important composers of the “classical” period.  He composed during an interesting period during music history, when Western classical music was evolving away from the structure of Bach and Mozart towards the freer harmonic modernism championed by Franz Liszt and Richard Wagner.  Brahms always sounds like he has a foot in both camps.  His melodies and embellishments are as flowery and delightful as any of the true Romantic composers, but he doesn’t go on for six and a half hours.  One of my favorite life quotes is actually from Brahms: “It is not hard to compose, but what is fabulously hard is to leave the superfluous notes under the table.”  I think he left only the very best notes in this piece.  By the end of it, you feel like you’ve run a marathon, graduated from medical school, completed astronaut training, and cleaned your kitchen.  You know – done something really major.

Throwback Thursday: “Do Not Cast Me Off,” Maksym Berezovsky

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Maksym Berezovky (1745 –1777) was a major Ukrainian composer active around the time of Mozart (1756-1791), and one of the first Ukrainian composers to be recognized throughout Europe.  This piece is an a capella choral concerto set to the words of Psalm 71.  There is so much going on in this piece – not least of which are the tempo changes throughout that increase the urgency of the words being sung.  What gets me even more than that are the moments when the entire comes together in one voice like at 1:05.  It really makes you sit up and take notice.

Diplomatic talks in Paris stalled in the face of Western demands Russia pull back its forces, and the Russian foreign minister’s refusal to recognize his Ukrainian counterpart.  And, in an interesting demonstration of how divided Ukraine is, thousands of pro-Russia and pro-Ukrainian activists tussled over whose flag would fly atop the administrative headquarters of Donetsk.

Map of the location of Ukraine's forces from IISS, as of 5 March

Map of the location of Ukraine’s forces from IISS, as of 5 March

—

1 In you, Lord, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
2 In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me;
turn your ear to me and save me.
3 Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.
4 Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of those who are evil and cruel.

5 For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,
my confidence since my youth.
6 From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.
I will ever praise you.
7 I have become a sign to many;
you are my strong refuge.
8 My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.

9 Do not cast me away when I am old;
do not forsake me when my strength is gone.
10 For my enemies speak against me;
those who wait to kill me conspire together.
11 They say, “God has forsaken him;
pursue him and seize him,
for no one will rescue him.”
12 Do not be far from me, my God;
come quickly, God, to help me.
13 May my accusers perish in shame;
may those who want to harm me
be covered with scorn and disgrace.

14 As for me, I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.

15 My mouth will tell of your righteous deeds,
of your saving acts all day long—
though I know not how to relate them all.
16 I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, Sovereign Lord;
I will proclaim your righteous deeds, yours alone.
17 Since my youth, God, you have taught me,
and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.
18 Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come.

19 Your righteousness, God, reaches to the heavens,
you who have done great things.
Who is like you, God?
20 Though you have made me see troubles,
many and bitter,
you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up.
21 You will increase my honor
and comfort me once more.

22 I will praise you with the harp
for your faithfulness, my God;
I will sing praise to you with the lyre,
Holy One of Israel.
23 My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you—
I whom you have delivered.
24 My tongue will tell of your righteous acts
all day long,
for those who wanted to harm me
have been put to shame and confusion.

Throwback Thursday: “Prelude and Fugue No. 3 in C-sharp Major,” J.S. Bach

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These two pieces together sound like three friends going on a road trip.  The Prelude is all of them excitedly discussing where they want to go.  Some voices are heard more than others at which point they start getting into a minor (ha ha…hm) disagreements that are quickly resolved amicably.  The Fugue is the trip itself.  Friend One gets in his car and drives to Friend Two’s house, picks up Friend Two at 1:10, then they pick up Friend Three (who’s gone and gotten them all coffee) at 1:15.  These friends then tootle on their way.  There’s a bit of backseat driving after they take a wrong turn (1:34), but they finally get to their destination (2:27) and happily natter on about how great it is for a while until it gets dark (2:47) and they turn for home.

At least, that’s what it sounds like to me.

Throwback Thursday: “Abendlied,” Josef Rheinberger

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Humans are social animals.  We wither on the vine without interaction or companionship.  And yet, what wounds us more deeply than these same things, without which life is awful?  It’s a terrible truism, but a truism nonetheless, and one that I’ve been turning in my mind these past few days, for a variety of reasons.  It puts me in mind of a wonderful passage from C.S. Lewis:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

What nourishes will always wound; humans are imperfect.  What we need we will always ultimately lose; humans are mortal.  It is a far lovelier truism that the nourishment outlasts the wound, and that our mortality does not drain the memories and impressions we gave to others.  Let us bide with each other, then, while we are here.  Let us be vulnerable.

—

“Bleib bei uns, denn es will Abend werden, und der Tag hat sich geneiget.
Bide with us, for evening shadows darken, and the day will soon be over.”

In memory of Nancy Harris Smith.

Throwback Thursday: “Infernal Dance King Kahchei,” Igor Stravinsky

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OHCRAPINABASKETTOMORROWISVALENTINE’SDAY.  

Yes, friend, I’m afraid it is.  This is one of the few holidays that strikes deep, bone-gripping fear into both the singleton and coupleton.

To singletons, it’s about survival.  For the unhappy singleton, you survive another round of Those Who Won’t Die Alone (And I’m Not Talking About Their Cats) getting an “atta-boy” and a UN-sanctioned pat on the head; another round of mooney stories from smug, self-satisfied couples about the amazing flowers/chocolate/card/gift they received until you want to take said flowers/chocolate/card/gift and throw them into a wood chipper.  Even to happy singletons the day is a royal pain – everyone assumes you’re unhappy about being single and you spend the whole day fending off attempts to make you feel better about being so very, very, very alone.

To the newly partnered, it’s Everything Your New Partner Does Or Says Is A Sign Of Your Long-Term Compatibility Day, or, worse, Everything I Do Or Say Will Be A Signal To My New Partner And Soon After This They Will Decide This Was A Bad Idea Day; the day in which you don’t have a blind clue whether to get flowers or not (“I mean, it’s classic, right?  But, they’re dead, and then they start to smell bad in a few days, and it’s also just so cliche, and maybe it’s also, I dunno, clingy?  But I really like her and if I don’t get flowers…”), or chocolate or not (“did he say he was lactose intolerant?  I thought he mentioned lactose once…#$%! I’m such a bad listener…), or a card or not (“Where are the cards that say ‘I really like you and I know it hasn’t been that long but I think we have a future, unless you don’t, in which case, that’s totally cool, I never really liked you anyway?'”).  And to those that have been coupled up for ages, it’s It’s Been Six Years Since The Last Time I Tried To Surprise Him Maybe He Forgot And This Time I’ll Nail It Day, or, way worse, What Was That One Thing She Said She Really Wanted Dammit No Really What Was It Day.

In sum: Valentine’s Day is, basically, Fear Day.  Enter King Kahchei and his infernal dance from Stravinsky’s “Firebird.”

I don’t often post live recordings, as you’ve no doubt noticed, my eagle-eyed, international readership, but this one hooked me.  First of all, the tempo is absolutely perfect; it’s just fast enough to make you think it’s about to go off the rails, but, obviously, never does.  Second of all, it’s in such a bonkers time signature that I always wondered “How on earth do you conduct this?”  So a tip of my hat to Michael Tilson Thomas.  I become entirely mesmerized watching his direction here.  And third and finally, this video gives you a good sense of the immense scale of Stravinsky’s orchestration.  There are not only tons of musical parts, but there are tons of people playing each musical part.  It’s massive – you can kind of see the whole lot of them at 2:34 and 3:52.  (Oh, and the music starts at 0:29.)

To my single and be-coupled readers, enjoy this calm before the storm.  I’ll be back tomorrow with some fresh Fear Day funk to see you through.

Throwback Thursday: “Symphony No. 5 in D, 3rd movement,” Ralph Vaughan Williams

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If you hear movie soundtracks in this piece (or a bit of Downton Abbey), you’re not hearing things.  Vaughan Williams was such a master at capturing undefinable moodiness that he inspired a whole generation of movie and TV score composers.  I had once wanted to be among them based solely on his works.  There isn’t a sound so lush as a Vaughan Williams string section; I don’t think it’s possible to cram any more instruments or harmonies in there.  I particularly love the range of his orchestration at the beginning, from the lowest notes of the double basses to the highest notes of the violins.  Combined with the vaguely eastern chord progression, and the solo oboe (a classic Vaughan Williams tell), it makes for a very evocative beginning.  Until the strings settle into something a little more standard around 0:50, and we remember, oh right, we’re in England.

This particular symphony is an excellent gateway drug to the rest of his body of work.  Vaughan Williams’s most famous pieces are The Lark Ascending and Fantasia by a Theme by Thomas Tallis, but you’d be better served by diving a little deeper.  If you like this piece, check out his Norfolk Rhapsody, whose simplicity surely must have inspired Aaron Copland.

Throwback Thursday: “Piano Concerto No. 1, BWV 1052, First Movement,” J.S. Bach

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One wonders why it took me this long to play Bach, since he is one of the major reasons I adore classical music.  This piece in particular makes me beside myself with happiness.  It’s slightly more constrained than the Schumann piano concerto I posted a few weeks ago – far more regulated – but it still has the same fire underneath.  I especially love Perahia’s interpretation here, which takes it at a wonderfully assertive clip.  The slow build-up beginning at 6:02 is so exciting, and you think it’ll resolve but psych!  There’s more!  Oh, Bach, you card.  You slay me.

Bach and Steve Reich both wrote music that satisfies the same craving: music that sounds like the part of my brain that is constantly jumping up and down, wanting to play.  Putting this energetic piece on allows that part of my brain to go on a play-date, leaving the calmer, quieter side behind to get some work done in peace.  Bach alone got me through about a quarter of grad school.  I should put some flowers on his grave or take one of his descendants out for a beer.  (Aside: how incredibly cool would it be to have a beer with a Bach descendant?)