If my life were a piece of music
I'd want it to sound like Rachmaninoff.
In other words, I'm back from Russia and I love being home.
=]
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Soundtracks
I've recently noticed that I might be making a mistake.
You see, when I listen to music, it's always with something. Doing the dishes? How bout some Bach? Homework? Hello Mozart. Laundry? Hey Brahms. Jogging? Yay for fun Pop! Etc.
In fact, I'm listening to Bach even as I type!
Here's the problem, when I actually go to a concert and try to devote my entire attention to listening, I constantly want to do something else. Eventually, I start dozing off (If it's been a hard day). But most of the time, I'm just fidgeting, like I'm waiting for something to happen. This is not good.
If you'll remember, back before we had portable music players or even radios, people went to concerts and just listened. Nothing else. (They still do). And it's unfortunate that we have relegated music to just an accessory rather than an experience in and of itself.
Music is a definite art form and should be treated as such. For example, you don't try to look at five pictures at once in an art gallery right? Same with music. (Unless it's a movie, but arguable a movie is one whole image). To really listen requires all you've got. Your whole being.
Key Takeaway: Stop multitasking when it comes to music. If you're going to listen, then truly listen.
This isn't to say that doing things along with music is completely bad, but I do believe that the full experience of music requires complete concentration.
Back to Bach...
You see, when I listen to music, it's always with something. Doing the dishes? How bout some Bach? Homework? Hello Mozart. Laundry? Hey Brahms. Jogging? Yay for fun Pop! Etc.
In fact, I'm listening to Bach even as I type!
Here's the problem, when I actually go to a concert and try to devote my entire attention to listening, I constantly want to do something else. Eventually, I start dozing off (If it's been a hard day). But most of the time, I'm just fidgeting, like I'm waiting for something to happen. This is not good.
If you'll remember, back before we had portable music players or even radios, people went to concerts and just listened. Nothing else. (They still do). And it's unfortunate that we have relegated music to just an accessory rather than an experience in and of itself.
Music is a definite art form and should be treated as such. For example, you don't try to look at five pictures at once in an art gallery right? Same with music. (Unless it's a movie, but arguable a movie is one whole image). To really listen requires all you've got. Your whole being.
Key Takeaway: Stop multitasking when it comes to music. If you're going to listen, then truly listen.
This isn't to say that doing things along with music is completely bad, but I do believe that the full experience of music requires complete concentration.
Back to Bach...
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Entertainment
Genius is always fun to watch.
Glenn Gould is hilarious...so is his collie. Wait for the part when he stands up! =]
Glenn Gould is hilarious...so is his collie. Wait for the part when he stands up! =]
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What Music Means to Me
The following is a something I wrote for a recital in the program notes. Questions, comments, critiques are very welcome:
I have been asked to write down some thoughts about what music means to me. I shall begin then, with a short account of my own experience with music. My love of music began (I am almost ashamed to say) from selfish reasons. When I was 10, I read an article about how classical music makes ones IQ go up. Being a snobbish little boy I threw myself into my parent’s Mozart collection which amounted to about 10CDs. All the while, I constantly chanted this mantra to myself: “this will make me smarter, this will make me smarter” add infinitum. Like a musical moron I would vigorously nod my head up and down with the rhythm of the symphony or when the music became grand and exciting I’d wave my hands around frantically as if I were conducting an invisible symphony. Can you imagine what I must’ve looked like? In fact, I would look into the mirror sometimes and practice my I-am-deeply-in-musical-thought look and try to seem very profound, I mostly ended up looking constipated. Thank God something good came of this egoism! As I became more and more familiar with the pieces, I found that I actually enjoyed listening to them for their own sake. I didn’t really even know why yet, I just liked listening. My initial enjoyment began to spill over into a liking for other composers. In addition to Mozart’s music, I began listening to Elgar, Dvorak, Beethoven, Puccini, and then it hit me: I had discovered the Second Piano Concerto of Rachmaninoff. Diane Ackerman, a poet, describes this piano concerto as one that is:
…
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
But words do not come close, I think, to describing what it is like to listen to that music. How can I describe that aural experience which ravishes my entire being and makes me weep to hear such beauty? The answer is, I think, that we wouldn’t have music if we could fully describe it in words. Descriptions of Rachmaninoff can only go so far, you will have to listen to it yourself.
If I thought that discovering Rachmaninoff was something, imagine how it must have shaken my world to find Bach! Oh Bach! What a colossal syllable! I shall not even try to tell you the love, humility, and goodwill that his music inspires in me. This is what Leonard Bernstein says, “…once you do get to know Bach well enough to love him, you will love him more than any other composer. I know this because I went through the same process myself.” Further on he states,
And what is it that holds all these pages together, that makes it all inevitably the product of one man? The religious spirit. For Bach, all music was religion; writing it was an act of faith; and performing it was an act of worship. Every note was dedicated to God and to nothing else…Every last cello suite or violin sonata, every prelude and fugue from The Well-Tempered Clavier praises God…Bach…was a man of God, and his godliness informs his music from first to last (The Joy of Music, 237-277).
And with that, I come to my point. The fundamental value of music is in its ability to make us better people. Rather than just a hobby or something we teach children because it will make them “smart” (which it will). Classical music is an education of the heart. It is a vital part of forming a person’s character for the better. Now realize that I am not saying that you need music to be a good person, after all, the Nazis also listened to Schubert, but music makes it that much easier to love God and to love your fellow man. While the music lasts, I am in wonder and awe before its beauty. It’s almost as heady as being in love with someone, and perhaps it is just that – love – I mean. I do love music. And though my fingers stutter and mumble across the keys trying desperately to incarnate that love, I still do it; rather, I play because I love. In the last act of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we are given a very good model of what all our praises to God are like when the King of Athens comments on the bumbling and ridiculous play of the builders is put on in the King’s honor,
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake,
And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most, to my capacity (Act V.90-105).
If you skipped over that long quote, don’t worry about it, I mostly put it there to sound smart. The point is that the king took the stuttering praises of his servants and accounted those jumbled and messy attempts as eloquent speeches because of their love for him. In the same way, God will take our intention and count it as the act. If we will commit the time we spend in practicing and playing this music (like Bach) as a form of worship towards God, then it will mean something; otherwise, recitals are simply mutual admiration societies. We have mechanical piano players to do that. We come here not just to listen to those we know and admire the talent and hard work that has been put into these pieces, we come here also to participate in and experience beauty, beauty that at its root is from God. Life itself becomes more wonderful because such beauty exist. That’s what music means to me, it is one of the ways in which we are led to God. Where would I be without music?
I have been asked to write down some thoughts about what music means to me. I shall begin then, with a short account of my own experience with music. My love of music began (I am almost ashamed to say) from selfish reasons. When I was 10, I read an article about how classical music makes ones IQ go up. Being a snobbish little boy I threw myself into my parent’s Mozart collection which amounted to about 10CDs. All the while, I constantly chanted this mantra to myself: “this will make me smarter, this will make me smarter” add infinitum. Like a musical moron I would vigorously nod my head up and down with the rhythm of the symphony or when the music became grand and exciting I’d wave my hands around frantically as if I were conducting an invisible symphony. Can you imagine what I must’ve looked like? In fact, I would look into the mirror sometimes and practice my I-am-deeply-in-musical-thought look and try to seem very profound, I mostly ended up looking constipated. Thank God something good came of this egoism! As I became more and more familiar with the pieces, I found that I actually enjoyed listening to them for their own sake. I didn’t really even know why yet, I just liked listening. My initial enjoyment began to spill over into a liking for other composers. In addition to Mozart’s music, I began listening to Elgar, Dvorak, Beethoven, Puccini, and then it hit me: I had discovered the Second Piano Concerto of Rachmaninoff. Diane Ackerman, a poet, describes this piano concerto as one that is:
…
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
But words do not come close, I think, to describing what it is like to listen to that music. How can I describe that aural experience which ravishes my entire being and makes me weep to hear such beauty? The answer is, I think, that we wouldn’t have music if we could fully describe it in words. Descriptions of Rachmaninoff can only go so far, you will have to listen to it yourself.
If I thought that discovering Rachmaninoff was something, imagine how it must have shaken my world to find Bach! Oh Bach! What a colossal syllable! I shall not even try to tell you the love, humility, and goodwill that his music inspires in me. This is what Leonard Bernstein says, “…once you do get to know Bach well enough to love him, you will love him more than any other composer. I know this because I went through the same process myself.” Further on he states,
And what is it that holds all these pages together, that makes it all inevitably the product of one man? The religious spirit. For Bach, all music was religion; writing it was an act of faith; and performing it was an act of worship. Every note was dedicated to God and to nothing else…Every last cello suite or violin sonata, every prelude and fugue from The Well-Tempered Clavier praises God…Bach…was a man of God, and his godliness informs his music from first to last (The Joy of Music, 237-277).
And with that, I come to my point. The fundamental value of music is in its ability to make us better people. Rather than just a hobby or something we teach children because it will make them “smart” (which it will). Classical music is an education of the heart. It is a vital part of forming a person’s character for the better. Now realize that I am not saying that you need music to be a good person, after all, the Nazis also listened to Schubert, but music makes it that much easier to love God and to love your fellow man. While the music lasts, I am in wonder and awe before its beauty. It’s almost as heady as being in love with someone, and perhaps it is just that – love – I mean. I do love music. And though my fingers stutter and mumble across the keys trying desperately to incarnate that love, I still do it; rather, I play because I love. In the last act of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we are given a very good model of what all our praises to God are like when the King of Athens comments on the bumbling and ridiculous play of the builders is put on in the King’s honor,
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake,
And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most, to my capacity (Act V.90-105).
If you skipped over that long quote, don’t worry about it, I mostly put it there to sound smart. The point is that the king took the stuttering praises of his servants and accounted those jumbled and messy attempts as eloquent speeches because of their love for him. In the same way, God will take our intention and count it as the act. If we will commit the time we spend in practicing and playing this music (like Bach) as a form of worship towards God, then it will mean something; otherwise, recitals are simply mutual admiration societies. We have mechanical piano players to do that. We come here not just to listen to those we know and admire the talent and hard work that has been put into these pieces, we come here also to participate in and experience beauty, beauty that at its root is from God. Life itself becomes more wonderful because such beauty exist. That’s what music means to me, it is one of the ways in which we are led to God. Where would I be without music?
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
For Mr. Diaz and...
Monday, December 15, 2008
Dorothy Sayers and Bach
Keep in mind that in her youth, Dorothy Sayers was quite a talented Violinist/Pianist:
"Masters, undergraduates, visitors; they sat huddled closely together on the backless oak benches, their elbows on the long tables, their eyes shaded with their fingers, or turned intelligently towards the platform where two famous violinists twisted together the fine, strong strands of the Concerto in D Minor. The Hall was very full; Harriet's gowned shoulder touched her companion's and the crescent of his long sleeve lay over her knee. He was wrapt in the motionless austerity with which all genuine musicians listen to genuine music. Harriet was musician enough to respect this aloofness; she knew well enough that the ecstatic rapture on the face of the man opposite meant only that he was hoping to be thought musical, and that the elderly lady over the way, waving her fingers to the beat, was a musical moron. She knew enough, herself, to read the sounds a little with her brains, laboriously unwinding the twined chains of melody link by link. Peter, she felt sure, could hear the whole intricate pattern, every part separately and simultaneously, each independent and equal, seperate but inseparable, moving over and under and through, ravishing heart and mind together.
She waited till the last movement had ended and the packed hall was relaxing its attention in applause.
'Peter - what did you mean when you said that anybody could have the harmony if they would leave us the counterpoint?'
'Why,' said he, shaking his head, 'that I like my music polyphonic. If you think I meant anything else, you know what I meant.' "
-Gaudy Night pg. 499
Then it goes on and they construct this beautiful model of marriage which you should definitely, definitely go read. (But read Strong Poison first at least!)
Anyway, that was an awesome description of Bach. More than that, I read that paragraph with a sinking feeling...I've been that musical pretender...I've been that musical moron waving my hands to the beat...gaaaahhh.....
=[ Sigh. Maybe I should just stick to eating and sleeping...?
Either way, Sayers is right, it's the music that's important, not your reaction. Just like everything else.
"The best thing to do is to forget yourself altogether..."
-Lewis
Merry Christmas!
"Masters, undergraduates, visitors; they sat huddled closely together on the backless oak benches, their elbows on the long tables, their eyes shaded with their fingers, or turned intelligently towards the platform where two famous violinists twisted together the fine, strong strands of the Concerto in D Minor. The Hall was very full; Harriet's gowned shoulder touched her companion's and the crescent of his long sleeve lay over her knee. He was wrapt in the motionless austerity with which all genuine musicians listen to genuine music. Harriet was musician enough to respect this aloofness; she knew well enough that the ecstatic rapture on the face of the man opposite meant only that he was hoping to be thought musical, and that the elderly lady over the way, waving her fingers to the beat, was a musical moron. She knew enough, herself, to read the sounds a little with her brains, laboriously unwinding the twined chains of melody link by link. Peter, she felt sure, could hear the whole intricate pattern, every part separately and simultaneously, each independent and equal, seperate but inseparable, moving over and under and through, ravishing heart and mind together.
She waited till the last movement had ended and the packed hall was relaxing its attention in applause.
'Peter - what did you mean when you said that anybody could have the harmony if they would leave us the counterpoint?'
'Why,' said he, shaking his head, 'that I like my music polyphonic. If you think I meant anything else, you know what I meant.' "
-Gaudy Night pg. 499
Then it goes on and they construct this beautiful model of marriage which you should definitely, definitely go read. (But read Strong Poison first at least!)
Anyway, that was an awesome description of Bach. More than that, I read that paragraph with a sinking feeling...I've been that musical pretender...I've been that musical moron waving my hands to the beat...gaaaahhh.....
=[ Sigh. Maybe I should just stick to eating and sleeping...?
Either way, Sayers is right, it's the music that's important, not your reaction. Just like everything else.
"The best thing to do is to forget yourself altogether..."
-Lewis
Merry Christmas!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
I rejoice in the fact that this book exists.
I am excited that I own it.
I feel very affectionate about this poem because 1) it is the expression of another who loves Rachmaninoff as well 2) it puts into words a little of what all Rachmaninoff Lovers feel.
Therefore, without further ado:
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
Diane Ackerman
I'm listening to Rachmaninoff's
Piano Concerto No. 2,
which he dedicated to Dr. Dahl,
the psychiatrist who guided him
through the straights of fever,
not long after Sergei had heard
his own first symphony played.
Horrified by its many defects
which seemed a sewage of noise,
he had fled the hall, ashamed,
a quagmire of self-doubt.
We cannot know all the sounds
Dahl and he exchanged,
but rubbing one word against another,
Dahl gradually restored
Sergei's confidence. History tells
that Dahl used affirmations
and auto-suggestion:
"You will compose again."
"You will write a piano concerto."
"You will write with great facility."
Repeated until the words saturated
His gift from head to fingers.
In truth, nothing can kill a gift,
but it may become anemic
from great shock or stress-
a sprain of the emotions will do,
or a traffic accident of the heart,
or a failure dire as a clanging bell.
For two years, Dahl worked
on Sergei's shattered will.
at last he collected up his senses
in a burst of blood fury
and composed his triumphant
2nd Piano Concerto,
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
Will you tell me if you know,
how Dahl might have received
such a gift? I cannot imagine it.
With hugs and shared enthusiasm?
With an austere thank you?
In his private moments, did he weep
at the privilege allowed him?
For a time he held the exposed heart
of a great artist, cupped his hands
around it like a flame, blew gently,
patiently, until it flared again.
For that, he earned the blessings
of history, and soothed millions
of hungry souls he would never meet.
Listening to Rachmaninoff's
concerto today, intoxicated by its fever,
I want to kiss the hands of Dahl,
but he is beyond my touch or game.
Allow me to thank you in his name.
Indeed. Thank you Dr. Dahl.
I am excited that I own it.
I feel very affectionate about this poem because 1) it is the expression of another who loves Rachmaninoff as well 2) it puts into words a little of what all Rachmaninoff Lovers feel.
Therefore, without further ado:
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
Diane Ackerman
I'm listening to Rachmaninoff's
Piano Concerto No. 2,
which he dedicated to Dr. Dahl,
the psychiatrist who guided him
through the straights of fever,
not long after Sergei had heard
his own first symphony played.
Horrified by its many defects
which seemed a sewage of noise,
he had fled the hall, ashamed,
a quagmire of self-doubt.
We cannot know all the sounds
Dahl and he exchanged,
but rubbing one word against another,
Dahl gradually restored
Sergei's confidence. History tells
that Dahl used affirmations
and auto-suggestion:
"You will compose again."
"You will write a piano concerto."
"You will write with great facility."
Repeated until the words saturated
His gift from head to fingers.
In truth, nothing can kill a gift,
but it may become anemic
from great shock or stress-
a sprain of the emotions will do,
or a traffic accident of the heart,
or a failure dire as a clanging bell.
For two years, Dahl worked
on Sergei's shattered will.
at last he collected up his senses
in a burst of blood fury
and composed his triumphant
2nd Piano Concerto,
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
Will you tell me if you know,
how Dahl might have received
such a gift? I cannot imagine it.
With hugs and shared enthusiasm?
With an austere thank you?
In his private moments, did he weep
at the privilege allowed him?
For a time he held the exposed heart
of a great artist, cupped his hands
around it like a flame, blew gently,
patiently, until it flared again.
For that, he earned the blessings
of history, and soothed millions
of hungry souls he would never meet.
Listening to Rachmaninoff's
concerto today, intoxicated by its fever,
I want to kiss the hands of Dahl,
but he is beyond my touch or game.
Allow me to thank you in his name.
Indeed. Thank you Dr. Dahl.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Musical Narration
I might have commited musical blasphemy, but I'm not sure if I have or not. When I listened to Rachmaninoff's Symphonic Dances exactly one month ago, here's what I wrote in my journal that evening:
Note: Please forgive the horrible butchery of the grammar and beauty of the english language that is to follow. I make no excuses and beg for mercy. (At this point my head says, "drama queen"...)
I listened to The Symphonic Dances. I experienced an image of Love (First great Theme), Dreadful Fear and Sarcastic flippancy reminiscent of the Joker yet different and understood the wailing torture, fear, and despair of the Inferno. Of the frightening power of Death. (Dies Irae) But then comes the Love, this time in old age, the love of Children and Grandchildren where the passion is still there but tempered and drawn into greater things as a lump of metal is smithed into a (or tempered) into a straight, bright shining and noble blade which is both tranquil and fearsome to behold. And again the cruel spite and massive power of Death. But then, a Hero emerges. Small and weak, (in the flesh) and a fierce and awesome battle ensues with the Good dancing blithely where Death can only bludgeon and mock and frighten. Then the Triumph! Christ is Risen from the dead! For by death He tramples death. Alliluya, Alliluya, Alliluya. there is uncertainty and a bit of apprehension in the parting but never fear. Only love and hope and faith and an affirmation of them all. And suddenly! "Well done thou good and faithful servant, Enter and share Thy master's rest."
The Symphonic Dances was Rachmaninoff’s last work before he died.
Oh it's glorious!
He musically quotes a theme from his first symphony (Rachmaninoff Junkies will recognize how significant that is but for those of us who have not been enlightened here's the story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachmaninoff), the Dies Irae which I posted about last year: http://choochootrain64.blogspot.com/2007/10/dies-irae.html) and the climax from the most beautiful Choral piece I've ever heard, The Vespers or All-Night Vigil which can be described as Russian Orthodox Aural Ecstacy.
But back to musical heresies. Is it wrong of me to have these images/sensations/feelings in my head and heart when I listen? On one hand I know that music exists for its own sake, yet I also know that music is a language and how else can I understand it but through common human experience? If you look hard enough, you can find the transcripts of one of Rachmaninoff's last interviews before he died. Basically he says that whatever he feels, that is what he tries to communicate through the music whether it be love, fear, sadness, happiness, etc. And so I'm not so sure what to do with my little attempt at Musical Narration.
I think we can safely say that Music still remains fundamentally undescribable through words. Or else it wouldn't really be music.
Go listen to Symphonic Dances. But only after you've heard the Vespers and Dies Irae.
"Blagosloven yesi, Gospodi,
Nauchi mya opravdaniyem Tvoim"
"Blessed art Thou O Lord,
Teach me Thy Statutes"
I recommend these recordings:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
http://www.amazon.com/Sergei-Rachmaninoff-Vespers-Unaccompanied-Chorus/dp/B000003CV0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1222245856&sr=8-2
Note: Please forgive the horrible butchery of the grammar and beauty of the english language that is to follow. I make no excuses and beg for mercy. (At this point my head says, "drama queen"...)
I listened to The Symphonic Dances. I experienced an image of Love (First great Theme), Dreadful Fear and Sarcastic flippancy reminiscent of the Joker yet different and understood the wailing torture, fear, and despair of the Inferno. Of the frightening power of Death. (Dies Irae) But then comes the Love, this time in old age, the love of Children and Grandchildren where the passion is still there but tempered and drawn into greater things as a lump of metal is smithed into a (or tempered) into a straight, bright shining and noble blade which is both tranquil and fearsome to behold. And again the cruel spite and massive power of Death. But then, a Hero emerges. Small and weak, (in the flesh) and a fierce and awesome battle ensues with the Good dancing blithely where Death can only bludgeon and mock and frighten. Then the Triumph! Christ is Risen from the dead! For by death He tramples death. Alliluya, Alliluya, Alliluya. there is uncertainty and a bit of apprehension in the parting but never fear. Only love and hope and faith and an affirmation of them all. And suddenly! "Well done thou good and faithful servant, Enter and share Thy master's rest."
The Symphonic Dances was Rachmaninoff’s last work before he died.
Oh it's glorious!
He musically quotes a theme from his first symphony (Rachmaninoff Junkies will recognize how significant that is but for those of us who have not been enlightened here's the story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachmaninoff), the Dies Irae which I posted about last year: http://choochootrain64.blogspot.com/2007/10/dies-irae.html) and the climax from the most beautiful Choral piece I've ever heard, The Vespers or All-Night Vigil which can be described as Russian Orthodox Aural Ecstacy.
But back to musical heresies. Is it wrong of me to have these images/sensations/feelings in my head and heart when I listen? On one hand I know that music exists for its own sake, yet I also know that music is a language and how else can I understand it but through common human experience? If you look hard enough, you can find the transcripts of one of Rachmaninoff's last interviews before he died. Basically he says that whatever he feels, that is what he tries to communicate through the music whether it be love, fear, sadness, happiness, etc. And so I'm not so sure what to do with my little attempt at Musical Narration.
I think we can safely say that Music still remains fundamentally undescribable through words. Or else it wouldn't really be music.
Go listen to Symphonic Dances. But only after you've heard the Vespers and Dies Irae.
"Blagosloven yesi, Gospodi,
Nauchi mya opravdaniyem Tvoim"
"Blessed art Thou O Lord,
Teach me Thy Statutes"
I recommend these recordings:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
http://www.amazon.com/Sergei-Rachmaninoff-Vespers-Unaccompanied-Chorus/dp/B000003CV0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1222245856&sr=8-2
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sun Soaked Soul
Think of this post as a stream-of-consciousness piece...written at some ungodly hour on a Saturday night.
Okay, I don't remember what exactly he said, but somewhere in "The Joy of Music" Bernstien says that Bach slowly but surely becomes your favorite composer. I think that's true.
Rach and Bach. =]
There was this one moment when I was listening to Rach's 2nd Symphony where I had to go, "STOP! Too...much...beauty...aaghhhhh."
Bach, though, is so permeated with beauty, it's like the sun. He gets in all the cracks of my small little soul and warms every nook and cranny of me. He loved God so much, and it shows! Everything comes together when you listen to Bach.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFdbQtu2A4Q
And so after all this CM panel preparation is over (sometime next year). I want to start on Rachmaninoff's transcription of Bach's Violin Partita No. 3. I own a set of his complete recordings and his performance of that particular piece is shot through with such joy and wonder its...its....*happy sigh*. But of course, tomorrow is another day...of work...which means just sticking to it and getting all those fingerings right for the Rach piece and treating Annabelle like a raw machine. There's no other way for me (at least for now). Anytime I try to lay myself into the music, my fingers aren't ready yet. ;) I've also been banned from reading "The Art of Piano Playing".
Enthusiasm must be coupled with action. Good, True and gritty action. haha! Music takes hard work and to shrink from that and be lazy would be acting in a manner that is unworthy of the beauty that comes through it. Strive. Excellence.
I ramble so much....
Take ten minutes off, and listen to the Bach piece on the link above. Don't do anything else. Just listen and watch. And pray. =]
Let's keep praying for one another, always.
I'm decidedly terrible at describing music. =P
Okay, I don't remember what exactly he said, but somewhere in "The Joy of Music" Bernstien says that Bach slowly but surely becomes your favorite composer. I think that's true.
Rach and Bach. =]
There was this one moment when I was listening to Rach's 2nd Symphony where I had to go, "STOP! Too...much...beauty...aaghhhhh."
Bach, though, is so permeated with beauty, it's like the sun. He gets in all the cracks of my small little soul and warms every nook and cranny of me. He loved God so much, and it shows! Everything comes together when you listen to Bach.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFdbQtu2A4Q
And so after all this CM panel preparation is over (sometime next year). I want to start on Rachmaninoff's transcription of Bach's Violin Partita No. 3. I own a set of his complete recordings and his performance of that particular piece is shot through with such joy and wonder its...its....*happy sigh*. But of course, tomorrow is another day...of work...which means just sticking to it and getting all those fingerings right for the Rach piece and treating Annabelle like a raw machine. There's no other way for me (at least for now). Anytime I try to lay myself into the music, my fingers aren't ready yet. ;) I've also been banned from reading "The Art of Piano Playing".
Enthusiasm must be coupled with action. Good, True and gritty action. haha! Music takes hard work and to shrink from that and be lazy would be acting in a manner that is unworthy of the beauty that comes through it. Strive. Excellence.
I ramble so much....
Take ten minutes off, and listen to the Bach piece on the link above. Don't do anything else. Just listen and watch. And pray. =]
Let's keep praying for one another, always.
I'm decidedly terrible at describing music. =P
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Tangability in Music
The thing about great composers is that they each have their own 'voices' that are recognizable if you listen closely. For example, I've come to know Mozart (ah, my first love!) very well (for various reasons) and now whenever I hear him on the radio (which is alot!) I can tell if it's him or not within the first 5 seconds. (About 45 out of 50 times) =] It's quite fun! Certain characteristics and sounds often give composers away. In Mozart's case, it's usually an extended trill that ends with a lower note, a higher note, and then a lower note again.
It starts by being able to tell which period the music is from (Baroque, Classical, Romantic, Impressionist, 20th Century). And slowly progresses to a group of composers. (Haydn and Mozart are sometimes hard to tell apart). Elgar has a voice (Very English!). Beethoven is Mr. Cadenza. Vivaldi is Mr. Concerto. And Rachmaninoff is the Russian Dante. ;) Etc. etc.
But it really really really gets awesome when you can tell what period, which composer, the type of composition, what instruments, AND the soloist playing the piece. (Something I've only achieved once, that was while listening to the Beethoven Triple concerto with Anne Sophie Mutter on the Violin [I own a cd set of her playing all the Mozart violin sonatas, her Stradivarius has a very distinctive accent to it, it reminds me of German] and Yo-yo Ma on the Cello. You know you've crossed over to nerd status when.... =]
But silliness aside when I'm listening to individual pieces, there's a certain mood/feeling/memory/sensory sensation that is almost touch-able. Rachmaninoff for example runs the gamut from overwhelming ecstacy and breathless tenderness of the Second Concerto to the unequaled sparkling joy of his Bach transcriptions. (Especially when he himself plays it!). Oh Bach! You don't know what you do for my soul. When I listen to you, it's like having my soul soaked in sunshine after coming out of a refrigerator.
But seriously though, each piece, I believe, has a memory/feeling that is that piece. The mental/spiritual sensation is burned in. I can sometimes almost taste a piece! It's so hard to describe. =P
Anyone else feel the same way?
Tonight is Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff at the Bowl.
It will be good. =]
It starts by being able to tell which period the music is from (Baroque, Classical, Romantic, Impressionist, 20th Century). And slowly progresses to a group of composers. (Haydn and Mozart are sometimes hard to tell apart). Elgar has a voice (Very English!). Beethoven is Mr. Cadenza. Vivaldi is Mr. Concerto. And Rachmaninoff is the Russian Dante. ;) Etc. etc.
But it really really really gets awesome when you can tell what period, which composer, the type of composition, what instruments, AND the soloist playing the piece. (Something I've only achieved once, that was while listening to the Beethoven Triple concerto with Anne Sophie Mutter on the Violin [I own a cd set of her playing all the Mozart violin sonatas, her Stradivarius has a very distinctive accent to it, it reminds me of German] and Yo-yo Ma on the Cello. You know you've crossed over to nerd status when.... =]
But silliness aside when I'm listening to individual pieces, there's a certain mood/feeling/memory/sensory sensation that is almost touch-able. Rachmaninoff for example runs the gamut from overwhelming ecstacy and breathless tenderness of the Second Concerto to the unequaled sparkling joy of his Bach transcriptions. (Especially when he himself plays it!). Oh Bach! You don't know what you do for my soul. When I listen to you, it's like having my soul soaked in sunshine after coming out of a refrigerator.
But seriously though, each piece, I believe, has a memory/feeling that is that piece. The mental/spiritual sensation is burned in. I can sometimes almost taste a piece! It's so hard to describe. =P
Anyone else feel the same way?
Tonight is Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff at the Bowl.
It will be good. =]
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Slightly Better News...
The little flaps of skin in between my fingers are sore but I think if I really really really stretch hard enough I can reach them.
Some words from a master:
"Of course a very small hand will never achieve that feeling of freedom (and of might!), I would say of "mightiness" and "power" which is inherent in large hands able without discomfort or effort to grasp the biggest multipart chords and which is, so to say, their birthright. (Imagine, for instance, Anton Rubinstein's lion's paws, or the enormous soft and powerful hands of Rachmaninov). Small hands in such cases will not be able to forego the subterfuges, the ability to manage in a difficult situation which they acquired over the years by dint of hard work and not without the help of the intellect. In short, they turn their drawbacks into advantages and that is, of course, victory of the spirit over the flesh and consequently particularly precious. But, nevertheless, they will never be able to compare fully with hands which do not need any subterfuge and which, acting by instinct, at once, like nature itself, subjugate the piano and reign over it unchallenged. I know I shall be damned for this discouraging statement, "all wrong from the psychological point of view". But in fact there is nothing discouraging in this. One must reason soberly and not dodge reality. I often preach to my pupils that one plays with piano first of all with the head and ear and ony then with the hands, and that it is possible to play very well with "bad" hands and very badly with "good" hands. This is already a great consolation for those who need it."
-Heinrich Neuhaus from The Art of Piano Playing
I think he (Neuhaus) had even smaller hands then I! (He had problems with his middle [second third and fourth] fingers touching keys when he played octaves) But just listen to him play!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-UCUVtd2gA&feature=related
I'm encouraged. =] Besides. There is (Gasp!) more (much much much more) to life than Rachmaninoff.
Isn't God good? =]
Some words from a master:
"Of course a very small hand will never achieve that feeling of freedom (and of might!), I would say of "mightiness" and "power" which is inherent in large hands able without discomfort or effort to grasp the biggest multipart chords and which is, so to say, their birthright. (Imagine, for instance, Anton Rubinstein's lion's paws, or the enormous soft and powerful hands of Rachmaninov). Small hands in such cases will not be able to forego the subterfuges, the ability to manage in a difficult situation which they acquired over the years by dint of hard work and not without the help of the intellect. In short, they turn their drawbacks into advantages and that is, of course, victory of the spirit over the flesh and consequently particularly precious. But, nevertheless, they will never be able to compare fully with hands which do not need any subterfuge and which, acting by instinct, at once, like nature itself, subjugate the piano and reign over it unchallenged. I know I shall be damned for this discouraging statement, "all wrong from the psychological point of view". But in fact there is nothing discouraging in this. One must reason soberly and not dodge reality. I often preach to my pupils that one plays with piano first of all with the head and ear and ony then with the hands, and that it is possible to play very well with "bad" hands and very badly with "good" hands. This is already a great consolation for those who need it."
-Heinrich Neuhaus from The Art of Piano Playing
I think he (Neuhaus) had even smaller hands then I! (He had problems with his middle [second third and fourth] fingers touching keys when he played octaves) But just listen to him play!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-UCUVtd2gA&feature=related
I'm encouraged. =] Besides. There is (Gasp!) more (much much much more) to life than Rachmaninoff.
Isn't God good? =]
Not So Good news...
My hands are tiny...
compared to Rachmaninoffs. (He could reach a 13th!!!)
*sniffles* I cannot practically reach a 10th.
The huge, thunderous begginning chords of Rach 2 have the left hand going from F to A flat with 2 notes in between. That's a 10th....and then some.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
This must've been a little bit of what Moses felt when he was barred from the Promised Land.
=[ This is a dark, dark day. =[
What am I to do? sigh.
compared to Rachmaninoffs. (He could reach a 13th!!!)
*sniffles* I cannot practically reach a 10th.
The huge, thunderous begginning chords of Rach 2 have the left hand going from F to A flat with 2 notes in between. That's a 10th....and then some.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
This must've been a little bit of what Moses felt when he was barred from the Promised Land.
=[ This is a dark, dark day. =[
What am I to do? sigh.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Lux Aeterna
It's really really awesome having a sister whose teacher is getting her master's at USC. Two words: Free Concerts. Yeah.
This would be the third time we've gotten to go. =]
Tonights performance of Durufle's Requiem and Lauridsen's Lux Aeterna was conducted by Paul Salamunovich who also conducted the 1997 premier of the latter piece.
Both Choral works were deeply moving (at least for me, I'm always a sucker for choral works, think Vespers by Rachmaninoff).
The awesome thing was that the composer showed up on stage and took a bow! I know it's sounds silly, but being less than five feet away from a composer of such beautiful music does something to you. =]
Here I must lament my ineloquence and merely say a few words on each piece (which by no means do them justice, in other words, go listen to them).
The Requiem is set the the standard latin text of the mass for the dead. Wonderful. There's something about the human voice that cannot be rivaled by anything else. The Dies Irae section here gave me chills. The terror of judgement day really comes across. But then again, so does the redemption and love of Christ. Some theological points that I don't agree with, but that doesn't keep me from enjoying this. =]
Lux Aeterna. I first heard this on KUSC the day I took the SAT...hmmm.... Beautiful piece. Especially in conjunction with the text. According to the composer, it is a meditation on light in all forms. Spiritual, physical, etc. I was blessed. (Note: both pieces are set to sacred texts so it was really almost like church). The conductor, orchestra, and choir recieved standing ovations. The conductor went on and off stage about 5 times. Yeah. =]
I wish I could say just how wonderful it all was but then music wouldn't be music would it?
Have a wonderful evening Ladies and Gentlemen. God Bless.
This would be the third time we've gotten to go. =]
Tonights performance of Durufle's Requiem and Lauridsen's Lux Aeterna was conducted by Paul Salamunovich who also conducted the 1997 premier of the latter piece.
Both Choral works were deeply moving (at least for me, I'm always a sucker for choral works, think Vespers by Rachmaninoff).
The awesome thing was that the composer showed up on stage and took a bow! I know it's sounds silly, but being less than five feet away from a composer of such beautiful music does something to you. =]
Here I must lament my ineloquence and merely say a few words on each piece (which by no means do them justice, in other words, go listen to them).
The Requiem is set the the standard latin text of the mass for the dead. Wonderful. There's something about the human voice that cannot be rivaled by anything else. The Dies Irae section here gave me chills. The terror of judgement day really comes across. But then again, so does the redemption and love of Christ. Some theological points that I don't agree with, but that doesn't keep me from enjoying this. =]
Lux Aeterna. I first heard this on KUSC the day I took the SAT...hmmm.... Beautiful piece. Especially in conjunction with the text. According to the composer, it is a meditation on light in all forms. Spiritual, physical, etc. I was blessed. (Note: both pieces are set to sacred texts so it was really almost like church). The conductor, orchestra, and choir recieved standing ovations. The conductor went on and off stage about 5 times. Yeah. =]
I wish I could say just how wonderful it all was but then music wouldn't be music would it?
Have a wonderful evening Ladies and Gentlemen. God Bless.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Dies Irae II
Apparently a whole lot of other composers use the Dies Irae plainchant melody in they're works. In fact its pretty much a musical idiom for death.
I was extremely priviledged to attend a performance at USC of Totentanz by Franz Litz. The work is a paraphrase of the Dies Irae. An astounding and jaw-dropping display of brilliant pianistic virtuosity. I was pretty much in awe for a day or two. Just listen to a recording of it! I also got a really good seat! All those octaves, jumps, glissandos, etc. Absolutely amazing. I was also able to listen to the live radio broadcast of Gustavo Dudamel's conducting. =] Prokofiev's first piano Concerto was amazing. At moments very lyrical and joyfully exuberant. I was reminded constantly of a child just beginning to learn his Alphabets. =] And then there was the Fantastic Symphony by Berlioz. And here's where the Dies Irae comes in. I think during the Movement known as the Witch's Sabbath. The Dies Irae does all kinds of transformations. Plus Berlioz has these awesome 2,500 pound church bells clanging away. Yeah. I'm sure there is so much more I'm unsure of. =]
I was extremely priviledged to attend a performance at USC of Totentanz by Franz Litz. The work is a paraphrase of the Dies Irae. An astounding and jaw-dropping display of brilliant pianistic virtuosity. I was pretty much in awe for a day or two. Just listen to a recording of it! I also got a really good seat! All those octaves, jumps, glissandos, etc. Absolutely amazing. I was also able to listen to the live radio broadcast of Gustavo Dudamel's conducting. =] Prokofiev's first piano Concerto was amazing. At moments very lyrical and joyfully exuberant. I was reminded constantly of a child just beginning to learn his Alphabets. =] And then there was the Fantastic Symphony by Berlioz. And here's where the Dies Irae comes in. I think during the Movement known as the Witch's Sabbath. The Dies Irae does all kinds of transformations. Plus Berlioz has these awesome 2,500 pound church bells clanging away. Yeah. I'm sure there is so much more I'm unsure of. =]
Monday, February 25, 2008
Keeping the Music Alive
It's all in the Bible,
"For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it." (Matt. 16:25)
One of my big fears is the possiblity of losing the ability to love music. Like a person who begins by enjoying a song and ends up hating it (after listening to it repeatedly on the radio) I dread the same fate for concert music. (Specifically Rach's music).
But this is not so, and (Thanks ever so much to C.S. Lewis in "The Weight of Glory" and "The Four Loves" and "The Great Divorce")
When anything is yielded up to God, it becomes greater than anything we could have done with it.
If I realize that music (especially Rach's Piano Concerto no.2) is only (and here it is the good type of "only") a signpost pointing to the Divine Beauty, and if I appreciate it for what it is. Then it becomes all the more beautiful to me because I have placed it in proper relation towards God.
However, as soon as I begin 'worshipping' music and expecting more from it than what it was meant to be, then I have made it into a god thus turning it into a demon (paraphrase from Four Loves). Demons don't keep their promises.
So here's to appreciating music for a lifetime and loving it as a little window through which we recieve glimpses of God. =]
"For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it." (Matt. 16:25)
One of my big fears is the possiblity of losing the ability to love music. Like a person who begins by enjoying a song and ends up hating it (after listening to it repeatedly on the radio) I dread the same fate for concert music. (Specifically Rach's music).
But this is not so, and (Thanks ever so much to C.S. Lewis in "The Weight of Glory" and "The Four Loves" and "The Great Divorce")
When anything is yielded up to God, it becomes greater than anything we could have done with it.
If I realize that music (especially Rach's Piano Concerto no.2) is only (and here it is the good type of "only") a signpost pointing to the Divine Beauty, and if I appreciate it for what it is. Then it becomes all the more beautiful to me because I have placed it in proper relation towards God.
However, as soon as I begin 'worshipping' music and expecting more from it than what it was meant to be, then I have made it into a god thus turning it into a demon (paraphrase from Four Loves). Demons don't keep their promises.
So here's to appreciating music for a lifetime and loving it as a little window through which we recieve glimpses of God. =]
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Concert at Walt Disney Hall
Well...the building is quite beautifully curve-ful =]
The concert was hmmmm... not what I expected.
Firstly, they cancelled Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto in c minor because the pianist was sick.
Yeah, that was a huge bummer.
The Russian Easter Overture was delightful in it's celebration of (obviously) Easter. I was impressed with the oneness in the strings section, the violin section sounded like one instrument! But it wasn't piercingly beautiful. (For that we'd have to listen to Rach's Vespers)
Next was Tchaikovsky's Capriccio italien, which was enjoyable. (To be honest, when I listen to a piece for the first time, I don't remember any of it afterward. Like not one bit, so this post is going to be woefully inept as I was staking all my hopes on the Piano Concerto. I'm probably going to go by my impressions, which you should probably not trust.) During this piece I experienced something similar to what I felt during Brahm's First Symphony. This idea of roundness and an association with curves and flowing streams. Yeah, go read Edmund Burke. Ha-ha.
The Borodin Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor .......yeah. Nothing...nada. Didn't feel a thing. (sorry!)
Now the Tchaikovsky Suite No. 3. =] Oh boy, the first part, Elegie was sweet and lyrically pleasing, I felt one throb of lyrical ecstacy (albeit quite a tame one) during this part. (Lyricaly ecstacy meters usually go crazy during the second theme of Rach 2, darn, I really wanted to hear it live) The Valse melancolique was somber as the title implies. Ha, the Scherzo was funny because in the middle of it, the Dies Irae (if you don't know what I'm refering to, looking in my blog archive for Dies Irae) theme pops up kind of out of nowhere. =] It was a well orchestrated version.
Ooooh, and my favorite part of the concert, the Finale: Tema con variazioni! This part was quite exciting with some pretty virtuosic jamming on the part of the first violinist. Yes, I felt twice the tinge of Lyrical Ecstacy (again, quite tame compared to the Joyful Ecstacy in Rach 2).
Ha, I invented new terms. =]
Anyway, don't listen to me. Go listen to Rachmaninoff, Elgar, Tchaikovsky, etc. But choose wisely. There is such a thing as bad Classical Concert music.
The concert was hmmmm... not what I expected.
Firstly, they cancelled Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto in c minor because the pianist was sick.
Yeah, that was a huge bummer.
The Russian Easter Overture was delightful in it's celebration of (obviously) Easter. I was impressed with the oneness in the strings section, the violin section sounded like one instrument! But it wasn't piercingly beautiful. (For that we'd have to listen to Rach's Vespers)
Next was Tchaikovsky's Capriccio italien, which was enjoyable. (To be honest, when I listen to a piece for the first time, I don't remember any of it afterward. Like not one bit, so this post is going to be woefully inept as I was staking all my hopes on the Piano Concerto. I'm probably going to go by my impressions, which you should probably not trust.) During this piece I experienced something similar to what I felt during Brahm's First Symphony. This idea of roundness and an association with curves and flowing streams. Yeah, go read Edmund Burke. Ha-ha.
The Borodin Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor .......yeah. Nothing...nada. Didn't feel a thing. (sorry!)
Now the Tchaikovsky Suite No. 3. =] Oh boy, the first part, Elegie was sweet and lyrically pleasing, I felt one throb of lyrical ecstacy (albeit quite a tame one) during this part. (Lyricaly ecstacy meters usually go crazy during the second theme of Rach 2, darn, I really wanted to hear it live) The Valse melancolique was somber as the title implies. Ha, the Scherzo was funny because in the middle of it, the Dies Irae (if you don't know what I'm refering to, looking in my blog archive for Dies Irae) theme pops up kind of out of nowhere. =] It was a well orchestrated version.
Ooooh, and my favorite part of the concert, the Finale: Tema con variazioni! This part was quite exciting with some pretty virtuosic jamming on the part of the first violinist. Yes, I felt twice the tinge of Lyrical Ecstacy (again, quite tame compared to the Joyful Ecstacy in Rach 2).
Ha, I invented new terms. =]
Anyway, don't listen to me. Go listen to Rachmaninoff, Elgar, Tchaikovsky, etc. But choose wisely. There is such a thing as bad Classical Concert music.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
In Which I Remember I Forgot Something...
Then remember exactly what it was that I forgot. =]
I forgot that I had bought ...wait for it.....
THE COMPLETE RECORDINGS OF RACHMANINOFF!!!
*Heavenly choir sings*
Yes, this indescribably wonderful set contains every known recording that Rachmaninoff ever made. =] I am incredibly excited about it!
From the liner notes:
"Rachmaninoff was a pianist after my fancy. He was the most fascinating pianist since Busoni. He knew the secret of the golden vivid tone, the inimitable tone coming from the heart. In my strong opinion he was a greater pianist than a composer."
-Arthur Rubenstein, My Many Years
If that wasn't from Rubenstein I'd find that hard to believe! He does have a point though, (as I've said before) Rachmaninoff seems to have bursts of beautiful ecstatic genius rather than a flatline of quality (Mozart for example).
I also bought C.S. Lewis' Four Loves and Pilgrims Regress.
G.K. Chesterton's Everlasting Man, St. Francis of Assissi, and St. Thomas Aquinas
The Illiad and the Odyssey! The Aeneid as well. =]
Oh and I found a wonderful wonderful blessing in hand copying the letter of Philipians, my hand is a bit sore, but truly, truly, I have been blessed. No better way of conveying what it was like except to say: Go do it! (When you can find time of course, preferably on the weekend).
Further up and Further in!
I forgot that I had bought ...wait for it.....
THE COMPLETE RECORDINGS OF RACHMANINOFF!!!
*Heavenly choir sings*
Yes, this indescribably wonderful set contains every known recording that Rachmaninoff ever made. =] I am incredibly excited about it!
From the liner notes:
"Rachmaninoff was a pianist after my fancy. He was the most fascinating pianist since Busoni. He knew the secret of the golden vivid tone, the inimitable tone coming from the heart. In my strong opinion he was a greater pianist than a composer."
-Arthur Rubenstein, My Many Years
If that wasn't from Rubenstein I'd find that hard to believe! He does have a point though, (as I've said before) Rachmaninoff seems to have bursts of beautiful ecstatic genius rather than a flatline of quality (Mozart for example).
I also bought C.S. Lewis' Four Loves and Pilgrims Regress.
G.K. Chesterton's Everlasting Man, St. Francis of Assissi, and St. Thomas Aquinas
The Illiad and the Odyssey! The Aeneid as well. =]
Oh and I found a wonderful wonderful blessing in hand copying the letter of Philipians, my hand is a bit sore, but truly, truly, I have been blessed. No better way of conveying what it was like except to say: Go do it! (When you can find time of course, preferably on the weekend).
Further up and Further in!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Musical Traditionalism?
I'm sure she didn't intend to answer my question, but she inadvertently gave me more materially to work off of. My friend Blip is to see Alfred Brendel perform live soon! (Now I'm not familiar with Alfred Brendel, but he's a concert pianist, that's all I know!) Anyways, here's a quote from him that is a counter to the performer being the interpreter.
"If I belong to a tradition it is a tradition that makes the masterpiece twll the performer what he should do and not the performer telling the piece what it should be like, or the composer what he ought to have composed."
-Alfred Brendel
So obviously I'm wrong about all pianists holding to the theory of Musical Relativism...
But the question remains, how should music be performed?
"If I belong to a tradition it is a tradition that makes the masterpiece twll the performer what he should do and not the performer telling the piece what it should be like, or the composer what he ought to have composed."
-Alfred Brendel
So obviously I'm wrong about all pianists holding to the theory of Musical Relativism...
But the question remains, how should music be performed?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Musical Relativism?
Halfway through the required Hermeneutics Lecture Series by Dr. Walt Russell (I only fell asleep twice so far!...slightly better than last year...) I got an idea for a question.
In his lecture, Dr. Russell points out the relativistic/existencial view that has taken hold of our culture and society in the late 20th Century. This view causes us to view the individual (i.e. Me) as the sole point of reference. In extremeist form, radical relativism pretty much says that everything is only interpreted by the individual. As applied to Hermeneutics, our culture sort of brainwashes us into thinking that our interpretation of scripture is what matters. The emphasise becomes what I think of God and not what God thinks of me.
Another background info is the series of posts upon Beauty that Dr. Reynolds has been posting. The first article of the series is here:
http://www.scriptoriumdaily.com/2008/01/18/what-my-nana-taught-me-beauty-matters/
Basically, he in article IV he argues for the existence of beauty based on experiences that illicit unanimous, universal responses from any normal person.
Okay, so I was playing Bach and then it hit me. Is Music relative? At least in my experience, I have found Music, especially Rachmaninoff's, to be extremely Beautiful. So if things Beautiful are objectively beautiful, then what about interpretation of music?
In my limited musical experience, I've discovered that alot of weight is placed on personal interpretation of a piece of music. Yet, I find this hard to reconcile with Dr. Russell's argument in favor of putting the most emphasis on Authorial intent. Meaning that what the author is trying to convey is actually the most important thing (which I agree with).
If I were to apply the same train of reasoning to a piece of music, then the intention of the composer should be the most important thing. (???)
Yet so much emphasis is placed on personal interpretation of music. Now a point to note hear would be that interpretation is different from playing it well. Anyone can play the notes, but to express it well, takes it another step and is (so I am told) what defines a musician. The personal expression of music.
This whole question has also been fueled by a series of lectures I'm listening to on Classical Music. In ancient Greece, the concept of music was that it was a sonic manifestation of the order of the universe and that it was a way in which the individual could express himself. Their concept of music was humanistic (sorry my terms are so jumbled!). In the Medieval times, this view of music changed to one in which music was a supplement to the Church. Views of Music went through some more changes and then cycled back to now where we generally hold to the Grecian view of music. (I think).
So what I'm trying to ask is this: Is the emphasis placed on personal intepretation of Music a result of cultural influences or is it a result of the inherent Beauty of a Composer's music melding with the intentions of a performer? Is the emphasis we place on personal interpretation a good thing?
AHHHHHH!!!! =]
In his lecture, Dr. Russell points out the relativistic/existencial view that has taken hold of our culture and society in the late 20th Century. This view causes us to view the individual (i.e. Me) as the sole point of reference. In extremeist form, radical relativism pretty much says that everything is only interpreted by the individual. As applied to Hermeneutics, our culture sort of brainwashes us into thinking that our interpretation of scripture is what matters. The emphasise becomes what I think of God and not what God thinks of me.
Another background info is the series of posts upon Beauty that Dr. Reynolds has been posting. The first article of the series is here:
http://www.scriptoriumdaily.com/2008/01/18/what-my-nana-taught-me-beauty-matters/
Basically, he in article IV he argues for the existence of beauty based on experiences that illicit unanimous, universal responses from any normal person.
Okay, so I was playing Bach and then it hit me. Is Music relative? At least in my experience, I have found Music, especially Rachmaninoff's, to be extremely Beautiful. So if things Beautiful are objectively beautiful, then what about interpretation of music?
In my limited musical experience, I've discovered that alot of weight is placed on personal interpretation of a piece of music. Yet, I find this hard to reconcile with Dr. Russell's argument in favor of putting the most emphasis on Authorial intent. Meaning that what the author is trying to convey is actually the most important thing (which I agree with).
If I were to apply the same train of reasoning to a piece of music, then the intention of the composer should be the most important thing. (???)
Yet so much emphasis is placed on personal interpretation of music. Now a point to note hear would be that interpretation is different from playing it well. Anyone can play the notes, but to express it well, takes it another step and is (so I am told) what defines a musician. The personal expression of music.
This whole question has also been fueled by a series of lectures I'm listening to on Classical Music. In ancient Greece, the concept of music was that it was a sonic manifestation of the order of the universe and that it was a way in which the individual could express himself. Their concept of music was humanistic (sorry my terms are so jumbled!). In the Medieval times, this view of music changed to one in which music was a supplement to the Church. Views of Music went through some more changes and then cycled back to now where we generally hold to the Grecian view of music. (I think).
So what I'm trying to ask is this: Is the emphasis placed on personal intepretation of Music a result of cultural influences or is it a result of the inherent Beauty of a Composer's music melding with the intentions of a performer? Is the emphasis we place on personal interpretation a good thing?
AHHHHHH!!!! =]
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Lesson with Peter Yazbeck
Mr. Yazbeck is cool. Strike that, he's absolutely amazing. =]
Mr. Yazbeck used to be a professional pianist.
Mr. Yazbeck loves Rachmaninoff.
Mr. Yazbeck knows a ton about playing Bach, Chopin, Listz, etc.
Mr. Yazbeck played Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto for his last public recital. (I KNOW!!!!!!!)
Mr. Yazbeck taught me how to play my Bach piece.
Mr. Yazbeck costs alot to study with.
I like Mr. Yazbeck. =]
Mr. Yazbeck used to be a professional pianist.
Mr. Yazbeck loves Rachmaninoff.
Mr. Yazbeck knows a ton about playing Bach, Chopin, Listz, etc.
Mr. Yazbeck played Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto for his last public recital. (I KNOW!!!!!!!)
Mr. Yazbeck taught me how to play my Bach piece.
Mr. Yazbeck costs alot to study with.
I like Mr. Yazbeck. =]
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