Ravel - Miroirs (1905)

Les Apaches were a group of vogue modernist artists that came together at the beginning of the 20th century. They took after old French slang for ‘hooligans’, because the member who came up with the term, pianist Ricardo Viñes, considered them to be outsiders in the art world. They stuck together to help promote and defend each others’ works against critics and the public. Stravinsky and Ravel were the most famous members, alongside the prominent composers Manuel de Falla and Florent Schmitt. Ravel had joined along with Viñes who had become his best friend, and they were enamored by the musical ideas Debussy had pushed forward. Ravel wrote this suite, Mirrors, as a little gift to his Apaches friends, dedicating one movement for each of them. It opens with “Moths”, depicting fluttering wings in the night. The music here has a fleeting rush to it, and its shadowy nocturnal ‘wisp’ textures are like a precursor to Gaspard de la Nuit. The second movement, Sad Birds, opens with the titular bird calling in the middle of a desolate wood. The longer it sings, the more birds join it, again the atmosphere is darkened, but instead of nighttime it is the pain of sadness. More piano effects muddy the textures a bit, but the birdsong comes through clear each time. The third piece, A Boat in the Ocean, is brighter with its arpeggios depicting the waves, and a soft melody creating a nostalgic atmosphere. It isn’t an intense storm or anything overwritten, rather it’s the subtle and more realistic portrayal of the restless waves where the notes are constantly mixing together and reacting off of each other. The gorgeous opening melodies comes in and out of the waves until the music drifts away. The next movement, the Jester’s Aubade, is the most lively and joyous of the set. Like his earlier Pavane for a Dead Princess, this Aubade calls back to Ravel’s impression of medieval life, and here we can think of a jester, an acrobat or comedian, trying to get smiles on the faces of passerby with his morning song and dance. It is an intensely difficult piece with hyperactive repeating notes, and the harmonies and textures feel very Spanish, especially when the repeating notes seem to act like guitars and castanets. The last movement, Valley of Bells, opens with said bell chimes, first by themselves, then over a small carillon like accompaniment. The ringing of the bells start to cause dissonance as Ravel explores the sound world of the piano’s sustained notes. We get darkened bell chimes and chords through hazy harmonies. I find it interesting that Ravel named this ‘mirrors’, because whatever his intentions were, it doesn’t feel like a clear reflection of anything. Like with other Impressionist works, the reflections in this case are not clear, they are somewhat distorted and evocative. Maybe that’s the point, that this is a personal reflection and interpretation instead of anything specific? Through this lens, everything becomes a dream. The moths, the birdsong, the ocean waves, the jester, and finally the bell-valley that sounds like a musical version of a Dalí painting. Whatever the reason, it is easy to daydream to this kind of music.

Movements:

1. Noctuelles (to Léon-Paul Fargue)

2. Oiseaux tristes (to Ricardo Viñes)

3. Une barque sur l’océan (to Paul Sordes)

4. Alborada del gracioso (to Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi)

5. La vallée des cloches (to Maurice Delage)

Henri Marteau (1874−1934)

classical morning playlist

been putting together some favorites to start the day with. what would you add to this list?

Good morning everyone!

Mozart - Die Entführung aus dem Serail (1782)

Too often I notice people talking about Mozart’s timelessness as if he is above criticisms of content in his music. I’ve noticed the same trend happen to Shakespeare, where people call him great but don’t say why or how, and instead hold him on a pedestal of “he’s great just because” which means you can’t point out problematic aspects of his plays. To treat an artist this way is to disrespect them by treating them as a wax statue that’s a placeholder for “greatness” instead of treating them like individual human beings. I say all this because one of my favorite operas by Mozart is also one of his most dated. “The Abduction from the Seraglio” is an Orientalist vaudeville of an opera, written to get the praise of the audience who, despite their higher class status (including Emperor Joseph II) were not above the guilty pleasures of the time. The opera was the product of the Emperor’s desire to produce German language operas to compete with the popularity of Italian opera in Vienna. The youngish Mozart, 25, jumped at the chance to keep his name big in the city. At the time in Vienna, Turkish culture and products were fashionable, so Mozart chose to adapt the libretto taking place in Turkey to increase popularity. The result is twofold. Musically, the orchestra often acts as a Westernized interpretation of Turkish music, especially when trying to evoke the sounds of Janessary bands. The writing is spectacular and full of bombastic and fun orchestra flourishes, choruses, and arias full of fireworks (especially the arias written to showcase Caterina Cavalieri’s virtuosity). The downside however is the Orientalist stereotyping of the plot and undoubtedly the sets and costuming. The Harem featured in the plot is not an accurate depiction, instead it is another Western male sexual fantasy. The character, overseer Osmin, was more of a charicature against Turkish authorities (and if only a ‘better’ government could rule). The best thing that could be said is that the opera’s happy ending goes against expectations by having the Turkish characters act with kindness, which was not the stereotype of Turkish authority. It is an interesting opera, both being lighthearted but also acting as a portrait into 18th century Austrian culture, and depictions of “Turkey” through the Orientalist European eye. And the music shows Mozart at his most populist. While it doesn’t have the deep characterization and forward momentum of his later mature operas, the music is still fun and engaging and flashy, like a popular musical would be today. The overture, Janessary’s chorus, and choral finale all include imitation-Janessary percussion and brass. The two arias in the middle of the opera, back to back, give the leading soprano twenty minutes of music to sing, the first half is mournful and slower paced, the second is optimistic and ending with a rush of scales.

Highlights:

Re-watched Amadeus (1984) yesterday with my roommate who I"m trying to indoctrinate into classical music. He wasn't a big fan of Mozart which is disappointing. I listened to this opera again at full volume in the shower and in the car lol

Franck - Grand Pièce Symphonique

After the Baroque era, the organ fell a bit out of favor. Aside from a few miscellaneous works in the classical era, no one really came forward as a great “organ composer” after Bach. But that changed with new advancements in instrument making. New organs were being designed or remodeled with a larger variety in dynamics and playing capabilities, which inspired composers to bright life back into the instrument. The most notable were Felix Mendelssohn, Liszt, and Franck. In 1859, one of the master organ builders of the century, Aristide Cavaillé-Coll had built an organ in Saint-Clotilde Basilica in Paris. Cavaillé-Coll’s innovations in sound included pipes that mimicked orchestral instruments. Instead of something more dry and a bit archaic, these organs had more fire and emotional range. So when Franck was appointed organist for the Basilica after the instrument’s completion, it isn’t a surprise that he was inspired to come back to composing. He wrote a set of six contrasting works that make use of the organ’s possibilities, and of all six, the Grand Pièce Symphonique [published second] is the most experimental. The pacing is a bit unusual, a “multiple movements in one” free form fantasy that takes maybe four main melodies and transforms them through the work. While the writing is well crafted, the pacing is a bit awkward and it definitely feels more like an improvisation. But that does nothing to hold back the sheer grandeur of the work. It opens with a soft, anxious walking theme that is more of transitional “filler” than anything, but it sets up the expectations for something larger to break out, like a bear slowly waking up. It develops a bit, slowly mutating into the major and giving a brighter choral. This is disrupted by punching growls which introduces the first main theme. Almost like a march. This theme is woven around a polyphonic river, tossing and turning until it finds a steady rhythmic bounce to play over. That weathers down into a more steady but constantly moving choral passage, before quieting down a bit and regressing, and taking up a new, solemn religious theme. This theme is injected with chromatics in its harmonies that make it sound almost cloying, like a little kid asking silly questions. That’s interjected with a third main theme, that plays like a scherzo, like ghosts or something mystic and mysterious, shadowy and vague. But the religious theme comes back in a refrain. Then, the main theme of the opening section comes back, quieter, but still menacing. And then comes the opening anxiety theme. And then comes wisps of the ghostlike scherzo! With another refrain from the religious theme! See what I mean by improvisation? These main ideas are slowly weaving together right at the end. And from the darkness grows a complete transformation of the main theme, what was beast is now beauty, and it is as grand and golden as you can expect, especially when it’s the first “major key” section in the otherwise minor key work. Then a variation of this theme is used as a fugue. Then a variation is used in an overwhelmingly triumphant coda. The “Big symphonic piece” is kind of weird, and maybe a little clunky at times, and definitely niche [being an organ piece NOT written by Bach], but still it’s something I fell in love with just this past month.

A personal "underrated" fav of mine. Underrated because organ music is kinda niche especially beyond Bach or popular wedding classics. The big symphonic piece is exactly what it promises; big, symphonic. I love the ending fanfare so much, even though it'll never happen I can. easily imagine it being the soundtrack to the end of a superhero film

What have you listened to lately?

You can also share specific albums or recordings if you want!

Schubert's late Quartets ... those go hard late Schubert in general is amazing O_O

<3 any chamber music by Schubert honestly. But yeah I was just thinking I haven't listened to the Death and the Maiden or SQ 15 in a long time...

Schubert - Piano Trio no. 2 (1827)

The public premiere of this work was at Schubert’s one and only benefit concert on March 26, 1828. This happened to be the one year anniversary of Beethoven’s death, a death which impacted the musical world so strongly, that, even though this concert was an all-Schubert program, it was subconsciously an ‘In Memoriam” concert for Beethoven. It’s also interesting to note that the year before, around the time of B’s death, Schubert had gone to a concert of Swedish folk music, and one song in particular stuck with Schubert, who loved it so much he decided to use it in this trio. The melody is shifted around a bit, but his altered version is the A section of the second movement. A few fragments of the melody, specifically a single falling interval of two notes, are used in different ways throughout the full trio, making it almost cyclical [though much more subtle than the cyclical music of, say, Franck or Liszt]. The first movement opens with a grand statement, and the musicians work together in a graceful harmony of constantly flowing music, the kind where you don’t notice the passing of time, a magic trick that only Schubert could achieve. Unison octaves, rippling effects, and little gestures pepper the song-like melodies that come one after another. The second movement is elegiac, a darker bittersweet melody, based off of the Swedish song which was about saying farewell after death. But the simple pulse of the chord progression underneath the simple, single line of music, keeps the music in an elevated and gentle kind of mourning. The B section is uplifting, and is based off of the main falling-interval snipped out of the main melody. After the repeats, the A theme comes back with a vengeance, heavy chords that fill the soundscape. The texture thins out a bit before closing with a whisper. The third movement is a fun minuet in canonic imitation, the instruments playing tag with each other. The last movement opens with a charming melody in the piano, which the violin and cello help take over in the repeats. Though soon, an altered version of the second movement’s main theme returns, a shadowed cloud over the sunny day. The textures get dense and nearly symphonic near the coda as the music comes to a bright ending. While the full trio is outstanding, the second movement has become one of Schubert’s more iconic works, and it has been used in various films and TV shows. I also can’t help but think about it in similar contexts, feeling lost to the world or thinking back to old times with friends. And just today I had attended a distant relative’s funeral, and during the mass I could not help but think about this music, about the revised version of the old Swedish folksong. Thinking about how language is an innate part of us, and so music also is a language we understand. The same emotions that the original song carry can touch us without needing the words, and this is why we like to think of artists as being in tune with this language. The andante is hard to talk about because it already speaks for itself.

Movements:

1. Allegro

2. Andante con moto

3. Scherzo: Allegro moderato

4. Allegro moderato

Alexander von Zemlinsky “Trió para Piano Op. 3”

Media vita in morte sumus (By Nicolas Gombert)

I first heard Gombert from an anonymous message to this blog a few years back where someone sent an unhinged rant about how Bach ruined the trajectory of Western music history (Lol. Lmao even.) but I have to admit his free counterpoint does feel like a sonic recreation of the heavenly firmament which was an aesthetic goal of religious composers at the time

Rachmaninoff - Suite no. 1 (Fantaisie-Tableaux), for two pianos

There is something that I love about piano duos…the extra textural layer opens up a new sound world that couldn’t be created by just one piano. That might sound silly, but listen to the opening of this work, how one piano carries the melody while the other plays glittery figurations over it around the same register. Either way, this early work by Rachmaninoff was dedicated to Tchaikovsky, whose influence on the young aspiring composer can be heard in the lush melodies and almost “orchestral” piano writing. Each movement [or as the title suggests, each musical picture] is inspired by a different poem, and so the musical mood tries to recreate the emotions of each poem. The opening is a Venetian boat song that glides and glitters along a melancholic tune. The next piece is like a love aria, holding onto the Romantic nocturnal mood, and a quiet opening leads to a more passionate middle section. Almost like a sonata, it moves into the next movement, a dark and constant downpour of tears. The finale is full of jubilant church bells signaling an Easter celebration and festival.

Movements:

1. Barcarolle (poem by Mikhail Lermontov)

2. The Night…the Love (poem by Lord Byron)

3. Tears (poem by Fyodor Tyutchev)

4. Easter (poem by Alexei Khomyakov)

Penderecki - St. Luke Passion (1966)

Thinking about music for Good Friday, it’s almost “obvious” to go for one of Bach’s Passions, which I haven’t heard before I confess. However, Penderecki was calling to me after I found a CD of his St. Luke Passion at my library. And even though it was what I expected it to be, I was still blown away. Lost without any key, and listening to an orchestra and organ and choir play out in unorthodox ways, created multiple waves of dread, and recreated the drama of execution. But this drama isn’t theatrical, it is….it is almost brutally realistic. Despite the subject being Jesus Christ, the work has more focus on the human side of Good Friday, focusing on a man’s suffering and humiliation, on his mother crying for his pain, and the onlookers who either morn or hiss and mock him. The “ordinary” aspect of the crucifixion is that humans have been brutally killing each other in all kinds of imaginative ways through history. The “horror” is that the suffering of Christ is only still lamented because He is God, whereas we don’t express as much sympathy for people who are put to death every day. Out of sight out of mind maybe. It’s a very dark work, full of unique effects [especially the disturbing moments where the crowd mocks Jesus with vocal spitting and unintelligible babbling] and also works out of old Gregorian chant writing while still sounding completely “new” and unique. As bleak as the work is, it tries to end on a higher note of victory, and also at least tries to convey the message that we can work toward ending suffering if we recognize others as ourselves.

Euguerrand Quarton - La Pièta (mid-15th century)

for Good Friday and Holy Saturday, thinking about one of my favorite passions

Mahler - Symphony no.6 in a minor

If the work is presented with the nickname “Tragic”, which you may see on programs or on CDs, it would be an extra layer of irony. Mahler had written this piece during one of the happier summers of his life. He had gotten married to Alma Schindler the year before, and his second daughter was born. And, like his other symphonies, it was written during one of his ‘composing retreats’ in a small cabin in the Austrian countryside. But despite the happy times in the outside world, and the few glorious moments of triumph in this work, the overall mood is pessimistic. Before I continue, I need to address the “Scherzo/Andante” controversy. Yes, this is an actual thing that has torn families apart and brought cities down. [ok that’s obviously a joke, but in seriousness, there are heated debates between musicologists about the order of the inner movements]. Mahler originally wrote the work to have the scherzo come before the andante, but soon after publication he decided it would be better the other way around. He seemed indecisive about the order of the movements, so it is left to performers to decide. Personally? I prefer scherzo/andante, and this awesome performance by Bernard Haitink and the CSO does it in that order. While it’s apparent that Mahler is continuing his nod to Bach by emphasizing counterpoint much more than his early symphonies, he’s also experimenting a bit with percussion. So far, this Mahler symphony has the most extensive use of percussion instruments, both in variety and appearance. Most infamously it uses a hammer. There’s no specifics in the score as to what kind of hammer blow Mahler wants in the last movement, and it’s always humorous to see different orchestras use gargantuan Thor like mallets. The symphony opens up with a growl in the strings, the beginning of an intense military march, full of bells and whistles [plenty of bells], before being contrasted with a soaring “love” melody that is claimed to be Mahler’s representation of Alma in music. The march beats on relentlessly until it cumulates in a very bright polyphonic coda that incorporates aspects of the previous themes over each other. It’s quite a rush, that it feels like a finale in its own right, and it’s a bit of a surprise to realize you still have an hour of music to go! The scherzo is made of variations of some of the melodies heard in the first movement, and while it has a bit of a stormy character, it’s still contrasted with calmer moments, thinner orchestrations, and even some playful rowdiness before the last bar. The andante is a gorgeous work, in my opinion it is much more passionate and beautiful than the popular adagietto of the 5th. In it, he takes a long soothing melody and works it through all kinds of variations, polyphonic diversity, and orchestration. He at one point uses a chorus of cowbells to evoke the countryside, and it cumulates in a passionate climax. The final movement is long and somber, and like the first movement, feels like it’s own symphony within the symphony. If there is a personal subject for the music, either the composer himself or perhaps a more philosophical “hero” that we can relate to, this is that character’s downfall. Despite all of the angst and heroic overcoming that have passed, all things come to an end and this symphony almost literally dies. With the hammer blow of fate, and the somber brass chorals, the music fades off into nothingness. At the premiere, reception was mixed to negative. The public found it too loud, too much, and too long. Caricatures were drawn of the mad conductor shoving as many percussive instruments as he can onto the stage. While the young composers of the Second Viennese School [Schoenberg, Webern, and Berg] fell in love at first hearing, most thought the work was incomprehensible nonsense. I find that ironic, since this was his most conventionally structured symphony to date [no multi-parts, no program, no singing, primarily Italian notations, it follows the traditional symphony structure]. Since then it has been held up as one of Mahler’s symphonic masterpieces for its craftsmanship, though it still hasn’t gotten as much public praise and popularity as his other symphonies. I personally struggled wrapping my head around this piece when I first heard it, but whenever I come across pieces like that, I make sure to give it a few more chances and listens to see if my opinion changes. I’m still weary of the 6th because of its final movement, but I’m getting there.

Movements:

1. Allegro energetico, ma non troppo. Heftig, aber markig

2. Scherzo: Wuchtig

3. Andante moderato

4. Finale: Sostenuto - Allegro moderato - Allegro energetico

It's always misleading to say "my favorite Mahler moment" because every re-listen reminds me of how many favorite moments I have, but I really do love the climax of the slow movement in this one

Schoenberg - Pierrot Lunaire, op.21 (1912)

Since his tonal days, Schoenberg was fascinated by the psychological aspect of stories. His Pelleas und Melisande focuses on the psycho-erotic side of the romance, and similar themes come up in the Gurrelieder. Here, the text comes from a series of poems by Belgian poet Albert Giraud, following Pierrot [originally the comic arch-type from the Italian Commedia dell’arte but evolved into a Parisian street performer], who is used as a social critique through symbolism and a Modernist lens. A lot high concept stuff here, basically he criticizes the decadence of turn-of-the-century Europe, and also in a paradox makes fun of symbolist gestures such as these kinds of poems, and questions whether concept art like this is really valuable. Schoenberg takes 21 of the poems [three times seven, as he writes in the full title] and sets them as a melodrama for voice and chamber ensemble. The voice does not sing, rather the soprano speaks at different pitches and follows the shape of the score. Continuing with his love of numbers, he builds a lot of the songs out of seven-note themes. In the first part, Pierrot speaks of love, sex, and religion. In the second, about violence and blasphemy, and in the third he returns home but then reveals to be haunted by his past. While the music is atonal, Schoenberg follows conventional forms, and the work utilizes the chamber quintet for contrapuntal density. Listening to it does sound like the ramblings of a person who is overwhelmed by the hypocrisies of life and the confusion, doubt, and fear that comes from trying to navigate them. One of my favorite moments is in book three…at the beginning of the work Pierrot sings about the moonlight pouring over him like wine. In “The Moon-spot”, Pierrot notices a white smudge on his outfit, probably paint, but he thinks it’s the moon, and he screams about how he can’t get it off. What was a fun sensual ode to being drunk becomes an OCD attack full of regret. A haunting work.

Movements:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

every now and then I go on twitter to remind myself why I left that sinking ship of a site, just to be targeted tweets hating on Schoenberg. I get that he's not for everybody but idk, I love listening to this piece while driving around at night. Maybe that makes me crazy, don't really care.