The Lists, Redux

I can't decide whether to be pleased or upset that I don't really have to rewrite the 52 lists too much. This was not a great year for me, culturally-speaking, I guess.

In poetry, I have already explored and written about Emily Dickinson, John Keats and W.H. Auden. They will be replaced by Alexander Pope, Andrew Marvell and Anne Sexton.

In books, I have already analyzed Great Expectations and Pride and Prejudice. They will be replaced by David Copperfield and Moby Dick.

For composers, I have already experienced Bach, Schumann and Copland. They will be replaced by Brahms, Dvorak and Shostakovich.

In movies, I counted the Star Trek V and Star Trek VI as separate entitites, but they are on the list as 1 line item. That's a lot of movies lumped together, but I will cope with that just fine. I am also combining Toy Story 1,2 and 3, which were separate. The Star Wars movies are already lumped together in one group. Using normal math, that leaves me with 3 movies to add. I am going to indulge myself a little and add in Casablanca, Shakespeare in Love, and 10 Things I Hate About You, old favorites I have not seen in too long. They will be my reward for slogging through some of the clusters.

I will update the lists linked on the side soon. Once again, they are not in order of reading, listening and/or watching. There has to be some choice involved, after all, or the whole thing stops being fun.

Composer 3/52 – Aaron Copland

Returning to music, I arrive at one of my favorite composers: Aaron Copland. Copland was a 20th century American composer. His compositions were also used in movies, ballets, and plays. Towards the end of his career, his focus changed from composing to conducting. The common thread of his career was his desire to bring symphony music to the people. Like Walt Whitman, the everyman American poet, Copland was heavily involved with creating a uniquely American symphonic tradition. There are specifics about his career at the PBS American Masters site.

There are two pieces of Mr. Copland’s which most Americans could likely instantly recognize: Fanfare for the Common Man and Rodeo. “Fanfare” is the theme used for the Olympics. It is majestic and inspiring, nearly militaristic but with a little more soul. I can envision troops returning home, world-weary but triumphant, climbers reaching the peak of Everest, settlers battling down the frontier and staking a claim. It makes me proud to be an American, and yet it is not uniquely American- none of our anthems are referenced. This is Copland’s gift.

The piece “Rodeo”, particularly the Hoe Down suite, , most Americans would recognize as the theme song of an advertising campaign for American cattle. In fact, every time I played a cd with this piece on it, my beloved husband was completely unable to refrain from saying “Beef- it’s what’s for dinner” over the final strains. It is because of the iconic nature of this piece that it was chosen to represent the American west. It incorporates folk music, from early Americana, has peaks and crescendos, soaring violins, fast and furious arpeggios, and, as my son, at 3 years old, pronounced: “There are horsies on the radio”. It is clever and proud, and remains one of my favorite compositions.

Another American folkloric piece of Copland’s which is more introspective than energetic, is from “Appalachian Spring” , which is based heavily on a Shaker hymn entitled Simple Gifts. It is light and lovely, and each time I hear it, I expect to find myself in the wild days of the American Revolution, after the bloody battles, when freedom is just emerging. Heady stuff, this music. I feel incredibly patriotic today, but not in a Toby Keith terrorists-beware way.

A final piece for today is the “Billy the Kid” suite , used as a ballet score. The melody is haunting- the doomed young gun with enough courage for ten men. The story this piece tells is part of our national historical narrative. There is pride, arrogance, defeat, victory, but most of all the triumph of the human spirit. This is the essence of Copland.

I love Aaron Copland’s compositions. I hope you do as well. It is the music of America, after all.

Composer 2/52 - Schumann

This week, I am spending quality time with the works of Robert Schumann, a German of the Romantic era, who lived from 1810-1856. His life included a heartrending love story, syphilis, and madness.

“Fantasy in C Op. 17” is in places delicate and tender, in others thrilling. When it slows to a near-total stop before vigorously returning, it is startling and grabs the listener’s attention. The piece contains several instances of this pattern. There is probably a better description, but I am no musician. It reminds me of the rapid switching of dreams in the best kind of sleep: starting out drinking tea with Shakespeare and Lady Gaga, stop for a moment and then suddenly you’re on an ice boat trying to play shuffleboard but it will not stop snowing, and then you’re at the world’s largest buffet and cannot find a knife. You are always sleeping, but the dream is evolving. That is how changeable this piece is, yet through it all, the repeating motifs and themes connect to one another. This is lovely music.

“The Kinderszenen, Op. 15” is one of the more recognizable pieces in classical music. I assume the title of the piece has something to do with children. I could use the Google, but I prefer the mystery. Something about this piece haunts me and pulls on my heartstrings. It is the music of little girls playing. Now, sweetness and light- then fighting, name-calling, girlish drama! This piece is particularly lovely for the contrasts, although the sweetness is not tooth-achingly sharp and the roughness is not violence, just small aggression. This is why it is the music of little girls playing, not of women. We women have higher highs and lower lows. It is what makes us interesting, after all.

“Carnaval” is merry and clever, nearly manic at times. It looks demanding to play. And it feels somehow lacking in heart compared to the previous two pieces. This is not sweeping, aching music. This is nearly frenzied, technically superior composition. I don’t like it. Schumann’s gift seems to be in making the listener have an emotional response. I keep waiting, and waiting, and I am just not connecting with this piece, in spite of the fact that it sounds... proper. Even listening to Rachmaninoff playing “Op. 9” from “Carnaval” , I keep waiting to be touched. It’s like trying to fall in love with someone who should be oh so right for you, a perfect fit on paper and your mother loves them. Everything seems to be as it should be, and yet it just isn’t quite working.

I conclude with a link to Victor Horowitz playing “The Kinderszenen, Op. 15”. I expect I will have this in my head all day.

I can’t say that I mind.

Composer 1/52 - Johann Sebastian Bach, The Remix

I was very pleasantly surprised to see that yesterday's post about Johann Sebastian Bach was republished on a website which calls itself, oddly enough, J.S. Bach News.

How did this happen? I tweeted, which is still a new and wondrous universe. My twitter account is m_w_bell . If you are also a twitterer, let's follow one another through the world of social media!

Composer 1/52 - Johann Sebastian Bach, Part 2

Well-fortified with a good cup of strong coffee, I return to Bach, and am pleasantly surprised. The first piece on my list for today is the “Well-tempered Clavier Prelude No. 1 in C Major” which sounds like an enthusiastic music box. It is vibrant but not too demanding. Is ear candy a phrase? If not, it should be, and this is an example. Good start!

I continue on to the “ ‘Little’ Fugue in G Minor” , which has an undertone of evil. This could be the background music of political mischief-making or other elegant terrors- nothing brash, just sinister, white-collar evil. This is music that demands your attention. If this were the song of a music box, there’d be an evil clown inside it.

Moving right along to “Passacaglia in C Minor” is like a progression into the circles of evil, a Dante’s Inferno of modern villainy. This is the music that should play when the audience knows bad things are going to happen but the characters in the movie/play are oblivious. This could easily be the theme music for the entrance of evil characters into a dinner party or a Washington D.C. reception or a gentlemen’s club thick with cigar smoke and glasses of sherry or brandy everywhere. Bach seriously had a dark side. I’m impressed.

I conclude my whirlwind romance with Bach with the famous (infamous?) “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” , which to me remains the epitome of scary music. We are at Dracula’s castle, the madman is scaling the fence to the old English estate, Rochester’s wife is ready to burn the whole place down!

Or maybe I just think the organ is inherently sinister. Either way.

My overall impression of Johann Sebastian Bach is that he is the composer of the soundtrack of places you don’t necessarily want to be. Whether that place is a wedding, a formal tea, in the company of lobbyists or hiding in the closet from the monster at the window, Bach has got the piece for you.

Composer 1 out of 52 complete. Next week: Composer 2/52 – Schumann.

Composer 1/52 - Johann Sebastian Bach

The first composer out of These 52 Composers, Johann Sebastian Bach, is a pretty popular guy. The composition “Air, on the G String” from Orchestral Suite 3 is nearly required by law for the pre-wedding sitting and waiting period. But- what else did this master compose? To paraphrase a movie/meme, I need to go deeper. In lieu of actual scholarly research, I turn to Wikipedia, putting my faith in the community braintrust.

Wikipedia does not let me down. Bach lived from 1685-1750, he was German, and his style was Baroque. That is an efficient, one paragraph trifecta of information! I really do love Wikipedia. It also has a list of his most famous pieces. I didn’t even have to scroll down at all. It’s as if they knew people would be interested in just the basic facts…

I will begin with the Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, 1^st Movement, for no particular reason. The Brandenburg concertos were sort of “lost”. They were written around 1721, but not published until 1850. This is your standard classical music, very elegant and complex. My Starbucks House Blend (Medium) K-cup coffee in my Rainforest Café mug does not seem upscale enough for this moment. As I listen to the Brandenburg Concerto No. 2, 3^rd Movement and No. 4, 1^st Movement, I find myself humming along. And then I try to figure out where I know this music from. Enter Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, and then I’ve got my answer!

My oldest son, who is 11 years old and autistic, has been watching the Baby Bach vcr tape/dvd since he was a wee little toddler. Lately it has fallen out of rotation, simply because he has been obsessed with Baby DaVinci, another movie in the series. I know more Bach than I realized, owing to the magic of Disney. At one point, I think I even owned the Baby Bach cd as night-night music for my little man.

The Baby Bach CD versions are not quite as lovely as full orchestral versions, but they do have the advantage of lulling children more easily to sleep, given the lack of soaring violins and startling trumpets.

Minuet in G Major is lovely, like something you’d perhaps expect to hear at a fancy tea. In Bavaria, of course.

Sleepers Wake is a very misleading title. The children were still asleep when I played this piece this morning. It did not wake them up, although the dogs were either barking along with the music or requesting me to change songs.

Sheep May Safely Graze is another gentle and lovely piece. It sent me running to my wedding album.

Thus far, the main conclusion I have about Bach is that this is not good background music. This music makes me feel like I should be wearing heels and hose, a dress and my good pearls either in a church, a reception hall or a fancy restaurant where they think cucumbers are an acceptable filling for a “sandwich”.

Later in the week I will go in search of pieces which do not make me feel underdressed and under-fancy.