(A) Introduction

Listening to Also sprach Zarathustra, which I wrote about in my last post, made me want to rent 2001: A Space Odyssey again.  I think Stanley Kubrick was a big fan of guys named Strauss, because he used Johan Strauss’ Blue Danube Waltz for the magnificent docking sequence early on in the movie.

(B) Johann Strauss II (1825-1899)

First things first: Johann Strauss and Richard Strauss aren’t related.  I thought they were.  Oops.

Johann was known in his lifetime as “the waltz king”.  He wrote roughly 400 of them and almost single-handedly made it popular.  By the time he was done, the waltz had gone from being a grubby peasant dance to a favourite form of entertainment for the Hapsburg court.

His dad Johann I, also a composer, didn’t want his son to follow in his footsteps – he wanted him to become a banker instead.  But Junior rebelled.  It wasn’t easy – a lot of concert halls were reluctant to hire him in his youth because they were worried they’d make dad – already an established composer – pretty mad.  So he left home to compose in foreign lands.  Junior wasn’t just rebelling against his father, he also sided with the bourgeois revolutionaries in Austria at the time.  The Austrian royalty weren’t pleased (nor was dad, a pro-aristocracy guy).

Eventually, though, dad died of scarlet fever and Johann II took over his orchestra.  Junior eventually surpassed his father in popularity and influence.  In fact, Wagner and Richard Strauss were admirers.

A Strauss family ‘trademark’ was the “Vorgeiger” tradition of conducting with a violin in his hand.  Apparently the whole family did it, and some conductors who are Strauss enthusiasts still do it when playing his works.

(C) The Waltz

What is a waltz?  A waltz is a piece of music dance done in triple meter – that is, in 3/4 time (or sometimes 3/8 or 6/8), with the emphasis on the first note (one two three – one two three).  Kinda like a polka, but with more dignity and less lederhosen.  While the waltz can be danced to, it’s not always composed as a dance.

The waltz first became fashionable in Vienna in the 1780s, and spread to other countries.  Then Johann II came along and turned it into an art form.

Some pop waltzes, for your reference, are “Three Times A Lady” by the Commodores, “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” by Simply Red, and (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman by Aretha Franklin.  Also, Danny Elfman likes using the waltz, and did so in his soundtracks to the Batman and Spider-Man movies.

And now, a word about dancing.  The waltz is a partner dance in “closed position”: you and your partner hold each other and are facing each other.  The lead dancer’s right hand is on the follower’s back somewhere (no, not on the ass, lest you want a smack).  The follower’s left hand is on the lead’s right shoulder.  The other hands are clasped together.  Once you’ve assumed the position, you twirl around the dance floor.

The waltz became the template on which many other ballroom dances were based.  So, depending on whether or not you like ballroom dancing, you can thank or blame the waltz (and Johann Strauss the Second) for it.

(D) Johan Strauss II’s Waltzes

An der schonen, blauen Donau (The Beautiful Blue Danube), Op. 314

This is the music that accompanies Kubrick’s sci-fi-riffic docking sequence.  It was also used in an old cartoon with quacking ducks.  I prefer to remember it as the former.  The way it sways is fantastic.

It’s one of the most frequently played and recognized pieces of classical music – in fact, it’s the unofficial national anthem of Austria.

The main riff from this waltz is also used in Johan’s waltz Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald (Tales from the Vienna Woods), Op. 325.  In fact, a lot of Blue Danube is used in Vienna Woods.  Maybe Johan meant there to be some thematic consistency between the two waltz about geographic locations near Vienna.

Wein, Weib und Gesang (Wine, Women and Song) Op. 333

What a great title!  Apparently, the melody is quintessentially Viennese.  I can’t really tell how or why, though.

Fruhlingsstimmen (Voices of Spring), Op. 410

When Johan wrote this he intended for part of it to be sung – a waltz with solo voice accompaniment.  In fact, it seems Johan wrote a bunch of waltzes with voice, but all I can find are the instrumental versions.  I wonder why?

I’ve heard this one!  It’s a jaunty, happily swinging piece, much like the Blue Danube waltz.

Kaiser Walzer (Emperor Waltz), Op. 437

Strauss wrote this to commemorate a visit between the Austrian and German heads of state.  I thought Strauss was a rabble-rouser?  You sold out, man.

It starts out quietly enough but quickly gets into some stately, almost martial, music.  The main theme is pretty well-known, as even I’ve heard it.

(D) Commentary

I’d have to say the Blue Danube is my favourite of these.  There’s a reason why it’s so popular – it’s a great song.  However, I can take two, maybe three, waltzes in a row at the most.  All that oom-pa-pa oom-pa-pa really starts to get on my nerves.

I could watch the docking sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey all day, though.  What can I say, I’m a geek.  Maybe I’ll just stick to an occasional movie rental to get my waltz fix – if I ever start jonesing for waltzes in the first place.

(E) What I’ve Learned

-Johan and Richard Strauss weren’t related.

-Johan II was the greatest Waltz King, who had a troubled relationship with his father and authority in general.  It sounds like he really had to struggle to find his own voice, and I can sympathize with that.

Part of the reason I like the song so much was my first impression: I first heard it used on the reality show “So You Think You Can Dance”, one of the few reality shows that showcases talented people.  It was used as a modern dance number; the premise was a soldier being called off to war and leaving his girl behind.  The dancing was fantastic, very expressive, and really brought out the heartbreak of the song.  It was a stunning performance by Katee Shean and Joshua Allen.

One of my favourite bits is a little detail in the bridge – a nice chugging guitar riff worthy of Dokken, played softly in the background.  It was a nice bit of texture that makes the bridge a little more aggressive, a little more raw, and coincides nicely with the increased drama of Sparks’ singing.  Another great moment is the line, “leaving me with just me”, a simple, direct, nicely written punch.

The song loses its focus a little with some excessive wailing when the chorus outro hits, but then it settles back into place and fades out nicely.  I’ve got it on my iPod and I listen to it a lot.

On a cynical side note: nice bit of cross-promotion there, Simon Cowell.  The song from a contestant on one Cowell-produced show gets used in a dance routine on another Simon Cowell show!

(A) Introduction

We’re starting this post by paying a visit to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO).  The CSO has magnanimously put weekly radio broadcasts on its website; if you don’t catch the original broadcast, you can still listen online for a couple of weeks.

Each broadcast contains a variety of live performances and studio recordings.  Not only can you listen to the performances, they also include commentary and interviews – so you get an annotated version of the piece.

I listened to the CSO’s broadcast of a collection of orchestral works by Richard Strauss.  Strauss and the CSO had a history of collaborating together, having premiered several of his works for US audiences.  He was also the CSO’s first guest conductor way back in 1904.

Unfortunately, I only listened to it once before the CSO rolled it into the archive, and I can’t listen to it anymore – they moved on to Prokofiev.  So, I’m forced to make up my own Strauss program for this blog.  Back to the Naxos Music Library!

(B) Richard Strauss (1864-1949)

Richard Strauss was a German composer who worked in the late Romantic and early Modern era of classical music.  He was also a successful conductor.

He started out heavily influenced by the Romantics, but moved away from them and started composing tone poems.  His development of the tone poem is considered his principal achievement in the canon of music; he developed the tone-poem to an unrivalled level of expressiveness.  Once he conquered the tone poem, he wrote some operas near the end of his life.

The big controversy surrounding Strauss is the nature of his relationship with the Nazis.  Some people say he was apolitical, and others claim he was a card-carrying member of the Nazi Party.  Goebbels appointed him President of the State Music Bureau; while in that position he composed the theme for the 1936 Olympics and he got chummy with some high-ranking Nazis.

On the other hand, he seems to have been trying to protect his Jewish daughter-in-law and some Jewish friends from persecution – in fact, he used his connections to have his daughter-in-law released from house arrest once.  This might explain why he pandered to the fascists.

However, Strauss never came out for or against Nazi anti-Semitism.  No one really knows where he stood on it – he kept his mouth shut.

Here’s a great quote from him in his late years: “I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer!”

(C) The Tone Poem

What’s a tone poem?  It’s a piece of orchestral music, in one movement, in which some extra-musical source provides a narrative or illustrative element. This source could be a poem, novel, folk tale, painting or some other work of art.  A symphonic poem may stand on its own, or can be part of a series combined into a suite.

The tone poem isn’t broken down into separate movements, like a concerto or symphony.  I assumed that meant the piece would be shorter than those other forms, but I’m wrong – they can clock in at over twenty minutes.  Not as long as a full symphony, but the same length of a concerto or a string quartet.

Strauss gets his own special classifications.  Many of his works are given a TrV number: the Richard-Strauss-Werkverzeichnis.  They were compiled by Franz Trenner based on Strauss’ diaries.

Don Juan, Op. 20, TrV 156 (1889)

Let’s go back and revisit Don Giovanni with this tone poem, which Strauss wrote at only 24 years old.  It’s written for a full orchestra.  Classical music buffs consider this piece to be the coming out party for Strauss’ formal style and tone.

It starts out nice and slow, but you get an occasional dramatic swirl in the early going.  Then the trumpet really kicks in about half way through, leading up to a crescendo drum roll.  By the end it’s soaring, climaxing the slow build that’s been going on since the beginning of the piece.  It ends very, very quietly.  Nice pacing, Strauss!

Macbeth, Op. 23, TrV 163 (1888/1890)

Written between 1886 and 1888, Macbeth was Strauss’s first tone poem.  Even though it’s listed after Don Juan.  I dunno…  It marks Strauss’ transition from his conservative style early works to his progressive later period.  Strauss used Macbeth as an aesthetic manifesto, describing it as “the precise expression of my artistic ideas and feelings”.

It starts out as a flourish, unlike the quiet intro of Don Juan.  It meanders back and forth, coming to a crashing end – much like Macbeth himself, who slowly goes mad as he gathers power.  Lady Macbeth, his crazy-ass wife, lurks in this piece somewhere, too.

Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration), Op. 24, TrV 158 (1889)

Strauss wrote this as a rumination on the last hours of a dying artist.  Many years later, he was to say on his own deathbed that his feelings mirrored the mood of the artist in this piece.

This piece is divided into four sections – each one representing a different part of the dying man’s struggle.  Unlike symphonies or concertos, the piece is meant to be played uninterrupted, so as to form one continuous song.  The sections are:

I. Largo begins the piece with the sick man lying on his bed in his dimly lit room, near death.

II. Allegro molto agitato things pick up as the battle between life and death offers him no rest.

III. Meno mosso has the artist’s life passing before his exhausted eyes.

IV. Moderato Death wins, as always, but the soul gains redemption.

The piece really conveys the deathbed struggle well, with lots of ups and downs.  It starts out so quietly that I wondered if my headphones were working properly… and ends with a beautiful, uplifting final movement.  Even in death, it’s a happy ending.

Also sprach Zarathustra, Op. 30, TrV 176 (1896)

The camera soars above the moon and the Earth, with the sun breaking across the curves of the planetary spheres… yes indeed, this piece was the one used by Stanley Kubrick in the opening scene of the epic film  2001.  Strauss’ inspiration for this piece was Nietzsche’s book by the same title.  This is the book where Nietzsche declares that “God is dead” and talks about the übermensch (and is subsequently misunderstood by devout Christians, objectivists and goth wannabes ever since).

Strauss organized this longer tone poem (roughly 30 minutes) into nine parts.  As with Tod und Verklärung, it’s to be played without pausing between parts.

Part I (Also sprach Zarathustra) is the famous three-note rising intro that’s forever associated with Kubrickian glee.  Those three notes recur throughout the rest of the piece.

Part VI (Song of Science) contains some gut-crushing low notes by the basses.  Apparently the basses have to play the “contra-b”, that is, the lowest key on the piano; this hardly ever happens in an orchestra.  As a former rock bassist, I say, long live the bass!

Part VII (The Convalescent) is pretty spirited for its title – you’d think you’d get some nice mellow hospital recovery music.  But no, the patient doesn’t get much rest.  It ends with a massive orchestra-spanning chord.  The title makes me think of Tool’s The Patient.

Part VIII (The Dance Song) has a sinister-sounding dance for the most part.  More sinister than anything all the Nietzsche-reading goth punks listen to, but not nearly as aggressive and pounding.  Eat this, KMFDM and Apoptygma Berzerk!

(D) Commentary

The tone poem is a versatile little form of music.  It can be long or short, one single piece or a series of connected ‘mini-poems’.  I find the crossover with other art forms particularly fascinating: Shakespeare, Kafka, folklore…  The structure of a tone poem is pretty loose, and can be made up according to the whim of the composer.  It’s a weird entity, and weird is good.

If tone poems and Edgar Varese are any indication, then 20^th century/modern music really blows the traditions and structures of classical music apart.  Anything goes!

(E) What I’ve Learned

-Strauss was a crossover artist between the Romantics and modern music… and he may or may not have been a Nazi.

-the tone poem is a one-movement orchestral piece that draws its subject matter from a non-musical source

(A) Introduction

Bach’s choral works are famous.  Let’s run away, screaming like frightened schoolgirls, from the Baroque chamber music and into some religiously blissful singing.

(B) The Choir

A choir is a group of singers who perform together as an ensemble.  A lot of it is religious, though not always.  A choir is usually associated with a church, while a chorale or chorus is the secular version that performs in concert halls.

The earliest use of choirs by Western folks seems to be the Gregorian Chant, performed by monks as early as the 4^th century.  Many centuries later, it’s been ripped off and paired with whispery French vocals by lazy techno one-hit-wonders hocking superficial new-agey spirituality.

A lot of choral music was performed a capella, that is, on it’s own and without musical accompaniment.  However, in the Baroque period people started using backing musicians to accompany the singers.  Bach really mined this potential, as we’ll see in a moment.

(C) St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244 (1727)

“The Passion” is the theological term used to describe Jesus’ suffering (physical, emotional, spiritual) in his final hours on earth.  In this work, Bach sets the Gospel of Matthew, Chapters 26-27, to music.  Matthew 26-27 details the betrayal of Judas, the last supper, Jesus’ arrest and trial and finally his crucifixion.  It doesn’t go into the resurrection; instead, it focuses on the end of Jesus’ life and his suffering.

The Lutherans have a tradition of setting the Passion narrative to music.  Bach was a serious Lutheran, and his St. Matthew Passion is the peak of such works.  The St. Matthew Passion is written for solo voices, a double choir and a double orchestra.  Double choir!  Double orchestras!  And don’t forget the pipe organs!  The recitativos tell the story itself, while the singing provides the commentary on the events in the story.  Jesus, Judas, Peter, and Pontius Pilate all get singing parts- solos and some duets. 

From what I can tell, it was performed twice in Bach’s lifetime – he was the choir director in the church in Liepzig where it was staged.  He got a lot more famous and influential after he died.

The San Francisco Bach Choir has a translation of the piece from the original German, so you can follow the plot.

No. 1 Chor mit Choral: Kommt, ihr Tochter, helft mir klagen!

Wow, nice intro.  Bach’s got both choruses working here.  It sets up the premise of the piece, and asks Jesus for forgiveness.

No. 6 Arie (Alt): Buss’ und Reu’

This is an aria by a female voice, with a nice flute accompaniment.  It’s very quiet and melodic.

No. 11 Rezitativ: Er antwortete und sprach

The guy singing Jesus’ part has a nice, rich, deep voice.

No. 27 Arie mit Chor: So ist mein Jesus nun gefangen!

The female singers take the stage on this piece, and their harmonizing is really good.  Then the rest of the chorus joins in near the end, and the result is very dramatic.  Nicely done, JS!

No. 29 Choral: O Mensch, bewein dein Sunde gross

The whole chorus is singing in this song, and it’s fantastic – especially after so many solos/duets.  You’re used to hearing single voices, and suddenly the whole group opens up and it hits you.

No. 35 Arie (Tenor): Geduld! Geduld!

Nice cello riffing.

No. 39 Arie (Alt): Erbarme dich, mein Gott

A violin accompanies the soloist, and it sounds really good.  With more instruments getting in on the action, it sounds like the plot is picking up.  Sure enough, she’s signing about how Peter disavowed knowing anything about that Jesus guy for fear of going to jail, and now regrets it bitterly.

No. 42 Arie (Bass): Gebt mir meinen Jesum wieder!

Great interplay between the violin and the bass voice.  The violin gets plenty of play in this song.

No. 52 Arie (Alt): Konnen Tranen meiner Wangen Nichts erlangen

Continuing with the gradually increasing role of the orchestra, this longer piece sounds like it has an entire string quartet playing along.

No. 60 Arie (Alt) mit Chor: Sehet, Jesus hat die Hand

There’s some steady woodwind melody that the female singer floats above.  The chorus keeps asking, “Who… who…”

No. 61 Rezitativ und Chor: Und von der sechsten Stunde an war eine Finsternis uber das ganze Land

Jesus cries out, “God, why have you forsaken me?!”  The jackasses watching him offer to fill a sponge with vinegar and put it on a stick for him to drink from.  Way to kick a guy when he’s down.  With one last cry, Jesus dies.

No. 63 Rezitativ und Chor: Und siehe da, der Vorhang im Tempel

A cello or bass starts chugging ominously, bringing forth the earthquake that marks the death of Jesus.  The temple rumbles, dead saints rise from their graves and fly to heaven.  This scares the crap out of the Jesus-watchers, who finally realize they executed the Son of God.  Uh oh…

No. 68 Chor: Wir setzen uns mit Tranen nieder

In this final song, the chorus sounds peaceful and uplifting.  It ends with the words: “In highest contentment, there my eyes close in slumber.”  The organ gets in on the final note.  It’s actually a serene way of ending what is otherwise a brutal story, no matter how nicely it’s sung.

(D) Commentary

I enjoy this a lot more than that pontsy chamber music.  And you don’t have to be a devout Christian to enjoy the St. Matthew Passion, though I imagine if you are it’ll resonate more with you.  This is seriously church music – I can’t imagine it being played other than in a big gothic cathedral.

Bach’s Passion is as far removed from Mel Gibson’s Passion as I can imagine.  This is uplifting and majestic while Sideshow Mel’s is savage, mean-spirited, mealy-mouthed torture-porn.

The organ is a seriously powerful instrument.  I mean, look at the size of that thing.  It‘s not a small moon, it’s a space station.  But in the recitativos, the organ player uses it to play little accents and flavours in the background, leaving the spotlight on the singer.  The organ has a lot more range and versatility than its size suggests.

The whole Passion is really restrained.  It’s very unlike a lot of the things I’ve listened to so far – there’s no messy crashing drama, no crazy highs or lows.  Instead, it’s very measured and deliberate, but the voices do a fantastic job of expressing emotion – which seems to be what Bach did better than anyone else.  It’s a very dignified presentation of a harrowing story.

(E) What I’ve Learned

-Bach was a devout Lutheran and he seems to have put his best efforts into his church music

-Choral music involves groups of singers working together on a piece, which sounds more difficult than it seems.  Not all voices are the same; while you can always tell what a violin will sound like, my voice is different from the next guy’s and the guy after next.  Even if we have the same range – say, we’re all tenors – each one of us is a different-sounding tenor.  So even if I can hit all the notes, my voice might be totally wrong for the piece.  When you’re putting a choir together, you have to take that into account along with everything else you have to plan out when planning out the performance.

Up next: a great leap forward in time – to Richard Strauss, at the turn of the 20th century!

(A) Introduction

I just realized that I hadn’t done anything on Bach yet!

It’s been a while since I listened to a good old-fashioned concerto.  Something nice and simple, without the drama of an opera.  So, I’m going to start off my Bach explorations with some concertos.

On a side note, the original singer for the metal band Skid Row took the stage name “Sebastian Bach” as a reference to this composer.  Skid Row put on a helluva show (particularly when opening for Guns ‘N’ Roses in the early nineties).  But I suspect the similarities between Sebastian and the original Bach end there.

(B) Johan Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)

Johan Sebastian Bach was born and raised in the great-metal-name town of Thuringia, Germany.  This is the same town where Luther translated the New Testament into German about two centuries before.  He was the eighth kid in a family of musicians, so the environment and genetics were perfect for the creation of a gifted composer.  At the age of nine, he lost both his parents in less than a year.  That sucks!  He moved away from Thuringia, living with relatives and becoming a renowned kick-ass organist while still in his teens.

He went on to become one of the (some consider him the) greatest composers of Western music.  He was exacting and precise, and like to play with numbers in his music.  He was also really good at the large-scale organization of musical themes and ideas, something which hadn’t been done to such an extent before.  At the time, it was common for a composer to lay down a structure and let the individual musicians improvise to varying extents on top of it.  Not so with Bach – he filled everything in, leaving little room for improvisation.  His stuff is so dense and complex that everything has to be planned out in detail.

Because of his command of complex structure, pattern and precision, he’s considered to be one of the ubergeniuses of Western civilization – even by people who aren’t into music.  Apparently lots of people find his stuff offputting – too rigid and complex and soulless because of all the mathematical depth.  In other words, they claim he doesn’t rock.  Sounds to me like he was the original prog rocker.

Most of his stuff is overtly religious, and even his secular pieces can be interpreted that way (kinda like Stryper).  After all, he was employed as a church organist most of his life.

Bach’s works occur mostly in the Baroque period – the precursor to the Classical period.  Baroque music features a lot of elaborate musical ornamentation, and increasing complexity in composition.  And they loooved counterpoint.

Bach’s main claim to immortality seems to be his keyboard works, particularly the organ.  He’s also known for his chamber music and choral stuff.

(C) The Harpsichord Concertos (1052-1065)

I figured I should start on Bach with something vaguely familiar.  I’ve listened to some concertos before, and Bach is particularly famous for his chamber and keyboard music.  Roll all those factors together, and you get the Harpsichord Concertos.

Like Haydn and Mozart, Bach was so huge that he gets his own classification system outside of the usual “Op. xx” format.  His works are categorized with BWV numbers, meaning “Bach Werke Verzeichnis” (Bach Works Catalogue).  This catalogue was compiled by Wolfgang Schmieder, a German musicologist, and published in 1950.  Here’s another twist: the catalogue is organised thematically rather than chronologically: BWV 1–224 are cantatas, BWV 225–249 the large-scale choral works, and so on.

The harpsichord concertos fall under the orchestral music category, BWV 1041–71.  There are five harpsichord concertos on this particular Naxos recording.  As a reminder, I’m listening to this classical stuff on the Naxos Music Library online, which has been pretty damn cool.  The concertos on this recording are:

-Concerto for Flute, Violin, Harpsichord and Strings in A minor, BWV 1044, “Triple Concerto”

-Concerto in D major, BWV 1050a, “Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, early version”

-Concerto in D minor, for 3 harpsichords, BWV 1063 

-Concerto for 3 Harpsichords in C major, BWV 1064

-Concerto in A minor, for 4 harpsichords, BWV 1065 

Following are highlights of this collection.

Concerto for Flute, Violin, Harpsichord and Strings in A minor, BWV 1044, “Triple Concerto”

The second movement, Adagio ma non tanto e dolce, sounds a little Asian – Japanese, maybe, with the flute and the plucking.  Just a little, though.

Concerto in D major, BWV 1050a, “Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, early version”

The harpsichord solo in the first movement is pretty impressive. 

Concerto in D minor, for 3 harpsichords, BWV 1063

This is all harpsichord all the time.  There are some strings, but they’re background instruments.  The first movement starts out really cool, with a descending prog-rock-like opening progression.  It sounds like the intro to an Yngwie Malmsteen instrumental.  The third movement, Allegro, sounds vaguely familiar.

Concerto for 3 Harpsichords in C major, BWV 1064

I’ve heard the melody for the second movement, Adagio, before.  It’s pretty nice, and melodic.  Bach wasn’t all math all the time, you know.  As usual, I don’t remember where I heard it before – all I know is it sounds familiar.

(D) Commentary

All the harpsichord action is too much for me.  It sounds too much like a wind-up music box.  It seems that, in the months since listening to Haydn, I still haven’t warmed up any more to anything even vaguely Baroque.  My first foray into Bach has been whelming at best.

I do appreciate the complexity and virtuosity of Bach’s music already, though.  It’s not the same kind of virtuosity as Paganini, who just shreds with an insane solo.  No, the whole piece is pregnant with depth and exactness.  There’s a million things going on at once, and each thing is linked to the next systematically.  It’s like a fractal.

(E) What I’ve Learned

-this wasn’t the best introduction to Bach for me.  I appreciate the composition, but I just don’t like the sound - I’ll have to find something else to listen to.  My interest is piqued enough to give him another try, though.  But please, no friggin’ harpsichords!

(A) Introduction

I searched on the Naxos Music Library for any recording featuring Myrtò Papatanasiu and I only came up with this one.  So I’m going to inflict it on you because Myrtò is my new best friend and favourite opera singer.

(B) Gioachino Antonio Rossini (1792-1868)

Rossini was another Italian opera composer.  He was born on a February 29 (leap year!) to musical parents and was exposed to music right from the start.  He was successful and prolific – he wrote 39 operas in total in a career that started in Italy and moved to Paris.  His best known operas are the Barber of Seville (which he wrote at 24 years of age) and William Tell.  His first opera was performed when he was only eighteen, and his breakthrough success was Tancredi, performed first in 1813.  He retired from composing operas when he was only 37.

The guy was apparently lazy, a womanizer and he loved to cook.  He used to throw parties all the time, and composer Franz Liszt was one of his buddies.  He married twice, both times to opera singers – way to dip the pen in the company inkpot, dude.

(C) The Opera Buffa

Il Turco in Italia (A Turk in Italy) is an opera buffa, that is, a comedic opera.  What, you thought all operas were tragic?  Well, so did I.  I got that idea from What’s Opera, Doc? where Bugs Bunny asks us at the end, “didja think there was gonna be a happy ending?”

The opera buffa developed in Naples in the first half of the 18^th century, as a reaction to the seriousness and dramatic excesses of the tragic opera.  In fact, it started out as a little one-act piece that would usually be performed in between acts of a serious opera, to lighten the mood of the audience during the break.  In time, entire operas were written in this style.

The primary intention of the opera buffa is to be popular, not musically groundbreaking – an opera for the regular guy.  You’d think that Verdi, Mr. Opera Populist, would be all over this; in fact, his opera Falstaff is considered both the last great opera buffa and Verdi’s own last great work.

Don Giovanni also has some opera buffa scenes, mostly involving Don Giovanni chasing a girl or a bunch of people chasing Don Giovanni.

(D) Il Turco in Italia (1814)

This is a shorter opera than the tragic ones we’ve looked at so far – it’s only two acts.  But there’s more action and plot twists in this than there were in La Traviata’s three acts.

A band of gypsies run into a Turkish prince disembarking from his ship and seductions ensue.  The gypsy Geronio is having marital problems with his wife, Fiorilla (played by Papatanasiu).  Zaida, a gypsy woman, pines for her lost love, the Turkish prince Selim.

Selim disembarks and Fiorilla starts flirting with him, which understandably upsets her hubby Geronio.  Selim agrees to meet Fiorilla later, and runs into Zaida instead.  Selim and Zaida renew their love for each other.  But when Fiorilla appears, Selim can’t make up his mind which woman he wants.

Complications ensue, predictably enough: Narciso, a friend of Geronio’s, is also hot after Fiorilla and makes his own play for her, Selim offers to buy Fiorilla from Geronio (thus solving his money and marital problems).  Oh, and there’s a costumed ball where everyone dresses like everyone else in order to thwart each others’ plans!  After a few more dizzying plot twists, Selim and Zaida get back together and sail away, and Geronio and Fiorilla reconcile.

Act I No. 1: Overture

This introduction takes forever.  It’s eight minutes long.  I guess, being the populist opera buffa that it is, you want to give everyone plenty of time to buy their beer and grab a seat.

Act I No. 3a: Cavatina: Non si da follia maggiore (Fiorilla)

Fiorilla makes her introduction.  This is the reason I wanted to listen to this – Myrtò Papatanasiu’s voice.  She doesn’t disappoint.  What fantastic vocal control!

Act I No. 3b: Chorus, Cavatina and Duet: Voga, voga, a terra, a terra (Chorus, Fiorilla, Selim)

There’s a nice moody choral part at the start, and then the soloists come in about a third of the way in.  It picks up in tempo and enthusiasm about two-thirds of the way through; it’s as if the song has an identity crisis.  There’s some nice riffing by Fiorilla.

 Act I No. 7: Finale I: Gran maraviglie (Chorus, Zaida, Selim, Poeta, Narciso, Fiorilla, Geronio)

This is the big messy end of the first act.  Everyone gets a role in this 20-minute extravaganza – no doubt to detail the wily schemes they’re preparing to unleash in the second act.

Act II No. 8: Duet: D’un bell’uso di Turchia (Selim, Geronio)

This is full of rapid-fire tongue-twister lyrics that would make Busta Rhymes proud. 

Act II No. 14: Quintet: Oh guardate che accidente (Geronio, Narciso, Fiorilla, Selim, Zaida)

Verbal tripping, quick riffing and really cool harmonies all going on at the same time.  These singers would make good rappers! 

(E) Commentary

One character that’s pretty interesting is the Poet, a friend of Geronio’s.  He watches the story unfold before him, but doesn’t take part in the hijinks.  He’s searching for a good plot for an opera buffa he wants to write – it’s a cool little metatextual device used by Rossini.

Sounds like everyone’s after Fiorilla, making me reminisce fondly of watching Ranma ½ episodes.

I get the impression that the opera buffa is something that you need to watch – the music on its own doesn’t seem to carry the romantic comedy vibe that the plot conjures up.

(F) What I’ve Learned

-Not all opera is tragic and angsty.  Opera buffa gives you the lighter, wackier side of the opera.  It is the Friends to opera’s Battlestar Galactica

-Rossini shows that you can be a lazy, indulgent jerk and still be an artistic success.  There’s hope for me yet!

Act I is all a big party, where Violetta and Alfredo meet.  Violetta considers Alfredo’s offer, and despite her reservations, falls for him.  Good times.

In Act II Scene I, some time has passed – and the two lovebirds are living an idyllic life together.  But there’s trouble on the way (what, you expected a happy ending?) as papa Germont shows up.  He convinces Violetta to leave, and after much anguish, she does.  It’s a scene right out of a Latin American soap opera.

In Scene II, Violetta is at a party, having returned to her career as a courtesan.  She has a new suitor, too… and then Alfredo tracks her down.  He throws money at her, breaking her heart and humiliating her, and stabs her new suitor in a duel.  The guests leave, and the party is ruined.  Violetta, distraught and inconsolable, collapses.

In Act III, Violetta dies of consumption.  She gets visits from Alfredo and Germont, everyone reconciles by her deathbed, and she’s gone.

(B) La Traviata, Act II and III

Okay, this is where the drama hits Latin American soap opera levels.  That’s good and bad.  Let’s get right into it!

Act II Scene 1: Madamigella Valery? … Son io (Germont, Violetta)

This is Germont’s entrance.  His deep voice rocks, and he hasn’t even warmed up yet.

Act II Scene 1: Un di, quando le veneri (Germont, Violetta),

Act II Scene 1: Dite alla giovine (Violetta, Germont),

Act II Scene 1: Or imponete … Non amarlo ditegli (Violetta, Germont), and

Act II Scene 1: Morro! morro! la mia memoria (Violetta, Germont)

Ok, Germont takes a couple of songs to warm up and then really starts strutting his stuff.  Violetta sings a great counterpart to Germont’s booming voice.  He’s implacable, wearing down her defiance calmly and inexorably.  Think of Agent Smith from the Matrix in the subway tunnel fight: “hear that, Ms. Valery?  It is the sound of inevitability…”

Act II Scene 1: Dammi tu forza, o cielo! (Violetta, Annina, Alfredo)

Germont exits, and Violetta gives her tearful farewell to Alfredo.  She wails and storms off, leaving the poor guy with a “WTF?” look on his face.  Poor guy!

Act II Scene 2: Noi siamo zingarelle (Chorus, Flora, Marchese)

We’re at Violetta’s party now.  And I just ruined this piece for myself.  Listening to the chorus singing suddenly brought to mind the Oompa-Loompas of the Gene Wilder Willy Wonka movie.  I can’t listen to this without acting like a little orange dude.  And every time the chorus steps in for the next few songs, I get the same visual in my head.

Act II Scene 2: Ogni suo aver tal femmina (Alfredo, Chorus)

If I remember correctly, this is where Alfredo reveals himself to Violetta, throwing accusations and money at her…

Act II Scene 2: Di sprezzo degno (Germont, Alfredo)

… and moments later Germont shows up at the party, cussing Alfredo out for acting like an asshole.  Alfredo again pulls a “WTF?” look.  So do I.  What the hell is Germont doing here?  And why all of a sudden is he cussing out his son for mistreating Violetta, when he’s the one who told her to screw off in the first place?  Alfredo, like Cartman, decides ‘screw you guys I’m going home’ and leaves…

Act II Scene 2: Alfredo, Alfredo, di questo core (Violetta, Barone, Chorus)

… while everyone else stands around talking about how Alfredo is acting like a complete tool.

Act III: Prelude

The third act opens with this mournful piece, and you just know things are going from bad to worse.  It borrows from the prelude to Act I, where we got our first hint that it was going to be a tragedy.

Act III: Teneste la promessa (Violetta)

Violetta starts off doing a spoken word thing, pining for Alfredo.  I can’t decide if it’s tacky or it’s really cool.  Then she starts singing.

Act III: Baccanale: Largo al quadrupede (Chorus)

This is weird, and interesting.  Violetta stands at her window and hears the echoes of a party somewhere off stage.  And the chorus really is off stage, singing mutedly.  It’s a nifty effect.

Act III: Signora! … Che t’accade? (Annina, Violetta, Alfredo)

Violetta and Alfredo are reunited, and their first harmonized wail is positively orgasmic.  Seriously.

After that, it’s all about the death scene.

(D) Commentary

Act I was all about Violetta’s pipes.  Act II Scene I was all about Germont’s pipes.  And Alfredo?  Well, he doesn’t get a whole lot.  He plays sidekick to Violetta and Germont – even though he’s the main concern for both of them.  He’s the lovesick chump that gets pushed around and directed by people who know what’s best for him.  And nobody fills him in on the plan till the very end, when it’s already too late.

He falls in love with a girl, and she suddenly leaves him because she says she still wants to party.  Dad says it’s probably for the best.  He tracks the girl down at a party and yells at her for breaking his heart – rightly so.  Then Dad shows up and tells him not to act like a jackass.  He storms off, and people talk about his behaviour behind his back.  Then finally Dad tells him what really happened, and he rushed back to the girl, only to have her die in his arms – because of the way he treated her.  Man, I feel for the guy.

I listened to a different recording for Acts II and III, this one featuring Monika Krause as Violetta and Georg Tichy as Germont.  I liked this version better than the Callas one I listened to for Act I.

(E) What I’ve Learned

-Apparently, La Traviata is really popular.  It’s the third most performed opera in North America, behind only Madama Butterfly and La Bohème.  And the horrid movie “Pretty Woman” is based on the story, but with more wacky hijinks.

-Tuberculosis.  What a crappy, crappy way to die.

(A) Introduction

Earlier this year I got hitched, and we went to Rome for part of our honeymoon.  Our hotel was right around the corner from the Teatro Dell’Opera di Roma – a nice old opera house reconstructed by the fascists.  Italy being the epicenter of opera, and Rome being the epicenter of Italy, I thought it would be nifty to see an opera while we were in town.  (Plus, my wife got a chance to wear her jaw-droppingly sexy red dress).  We were in luck – we got booth tickets for a proper Italian work, La Traviata.  It was sumptuous inside, and the performance was really good. 

(B) Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)

Verdi is one of the Italian masters of the opera.  He dominated the scene for half a century.  His career spanned a period of increased Italian nationalism and the unification of Italy.  Verdi openly supported those causes.

Verdi was another Romantic composer.  He was also a bit of a populist, and was criticized for catering to the tastes of the unwashed masses.  There was plenty of melodrama in his operas, which must’ve given them a bit of a ‘trashy’ feel at the time.  Bourgeois pigs!  However, his best works have had an indelible imprint on the genre of opera, and continue to be some of the most popular operas even to this day.

 (C) La Traviata, Act I

La Traviata is the story of Violetta, a famed courtesan who falls in love, gives up her old life as a high-rent prostitute, but ultimately can’t escape from her past. 

She abandons her partying ways for the love of Alfredo, but his dad, Germont, isn’t happy – her reputation is ruining Alfredo’s (and the family’s) name and future.  Germont tells her that if she really loves Alfredo, she’ll leave him – because her presence is ruining his life.  She finally does, returning to her dissolute lifestyle (I’m sure she partied with Don Giovanni).  Alfredo pursues her and humiliates her at a party by throwing money at her – payment for ‘services rendered’ when they lived happily together.  Violetta gets so distraught, so lovesick, that she collapses.  She catches consumption.  Alfredo learns that she sacrificed her love for his future, and comes to see her.  Having reconciled with her lover, and gained absolution, she dies in his arms.  It’s a slow, painful and melodic death, as she sings all the way into nothingness.

The moral of the story seems to be “a whore can’t live a happy life”.  But these days, with the mainstreaming of porn, it seems far more likely that she can.

 Act I: Prelude

The opera starts out a little mellow and melodic, emotional but not excessively so.  If the opening is any indication, this opera is going to be more depressing than Don Giovanni, and probably won’t feature a talking statue…

 Act I: “Libiamo ne’ lieti calici” (The “Brindisi” or “Drinking Song”) (Alfredo, Violetta, chorus)

This is a famous song, one of the more recognizable pieces from La Traviata.  We see Verdi’s populist sensibilities include a good ol’ drinking song.  Who says opera is stuffy and proper?

Act I: Un di, felice, eterea (Alfredo, Violetta)

A nice, gentle duet with the male and female voices playing well off each other.

Act I: E strano! E strano! (Violetta),

Act I: Ah, fors’ e lui (Violetta),

Act I: Follie! Follie! (Violetta), and

Act I: Sempre libera (Violetta, Alfredo)

These four pieces are solos for Violetta.  Man, do they ever sound difficult.  The singer must have incredible control over her voice – she riffs and licks like a guitar solo.  It’s amazing… but it’s also really hard to listen to.  I’ve got my headphones on at work and my cubicle neighbours are complaining that the headphones are ‘squeaking’.  This is the kind of stuff I remember as a kid: some woman screeching in a foreign language.  While I do appreciate the virtuosity (and watching it live was pretty gnarly too), it’s wearing me out.  Then again, there’s only so much of a Steve Vai guitar solo you can listen to before tuning it out (as I did at the Whitesnake “Slip of the Tongue” concert in Miami in 1990- metalhead name drop!)

(D) Commentary

The performance we saw in Rome was great, and the audience really got into it.  I heard yells of “bravo!” after the second act, and Germont came out to bow to the crowd after the act ended.  Italians are really knowledgeable and comfortable with opera, unlike North American audiences who seem more focused on being seen at the opera than on enjoying the show.

The woman who played Violetta was absolutely amazing.  I think it was Myrtò Papatanasiu (she’s the one in the pic at the top of this post).  It took her a high note or two to warm up, but afterwards she nailed her parts, especially during the Act I solos.  Not only does she have the chops, but she had a vivacious sparkle to her performance.  I found myself instantly liking her, and rooting for her.  She had attitude, spirit, and charm in abundance.

The recording I’m listening to for this post is a 1953 recording that features Maria Callas as Violetta.  She’s one of the most famous sopranos of the 20^th century, and even metalheads like me recognize the name.  But, to be honest, I liked Papatanasiu’s performance better.

(E) What I’ve Learned

-Verdi is one of Italy’s greatest opera composers.  He was a populist and politically active too, it seems – things which the traditional opera community was mildly scandalized by.

-Like Don Giovanni, this is an opera about someone’s sordid past coming back to haunt them.  But unlike Don Giovanni, the main character in La Traviata actually tries to escape her past.

-Verdi didn’t use any recitativos in La Traviata – it’s all full-blown singing except for a moment or two

(A) Introduction

When searching for info on Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty I kept seeing references to this symphony.  Evidently it’s one of his best-known works, and seems to be considered one of his greatest.

This was Tchaikovsky’s last work.  In fact, he died nine days after the premiere.  Here’s where the classical music tabloids come in, though.  Officially, he died of cholera, which he contracted when he drank a glass of unboiled water at the height of a cholera epidemic in St. Petersburg.  But rumour has it he was either poisoned or committed suicide in order to cover up a homosexual affair with a member of the nobility.  In fact, the fourth movement of the symphony is seen by some people as his ‘farewell to life’ before he died.  Imagine, a Romantic composer dying in a cloud of scandal over his love life!

(B) Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Op. 74, Pathetique (1893)

The symphony follows the standard four-movement layout for this type of work.  But even though the structure is consistent, he messes with the content.  The usual arrangement of the movements is: 1) long upbeat, 2) slow, 3) dance form, 4) upbeat rondo/sonata.  But for Pathetique he goes all out in the first movement, throwing everything into it.  The second is slow and sad as per the usual setup, but it’s in the form of a dance.  The third ‘dance’ movement seems untouched.  But the fourth movement is slow and mournful – not upbeat at all.

I. Adagio – Allegro non troppo

It starts out quietly and a little ominous, with a single low woodwind.  An oboe maybe, or a big honkin’ heavy flute.  It sounds tragic, but it livens up when the rest of the orchestra slowly comes in.  Still, it’s a foreboding entrance, like a movie where the hero dies in the opening scene, and the rest of the movie retraces his steps to that point.  You know he’s going to die, and no amount of striving or joy can stop it.

Sure enough, after about ten minutes of languid mellowness the drama crashes in.  Things get a little hectic, with ominous rumbling basses and crashing symbals.  Over the next five minutes or so, does it ever get intense!  Then it calms down again, leaving the listener emotionally exhausted.

“Pathetique” refers to the notion of ‘pathos’ rather than the notion of ‘being pathetic’, and the name sure fits.  There’s so much drama in this that it feels like an entire symphony – and it’s only the first movement!

II. Allegro con grazia

This is slow and graceful, which is maybe a good thing after all the drama of the first movement.  It feels like a waltz –the dance is usually reserved for the third movement, so it seems Tchaikovsky is playing with the format again.  It’s a good thing the composer gives us this little break, because it doesn’t get any easier from here on in.

III. Allegro molto vivace

The flute makes this a happy little dance.  The movement is upbeat and celebratory, but even so there’s still some dramatic tension at times.  It’s like the music is trying desperately to forget the mournfulness of the previous movement, but can’t.  There’s a lot of dread in this symphony, even in the happy moments!  It ends with a monstrous fanfare.

IV. Finale: Adagio lamentoso – Andante

The oboe-like-thing from the introduction to the first movement is back, and up to its sinister little tricks again.  It sets the mood once more, telling us that there isn’t going to be a happy ending.  And the grief starts pouring in.  It’s majestic and wholly tragic.  Even the silences are heavy!  There are moments where it seems like the music is trying to pull itself up out of its depression – raging against the dying of the light.  And then it slowly fades away into silence.

(C) Commentary

Wow, what a depressing piece.  By the end, I just felt empty.  Tired.  The last time a piece of music made me feel this way was the video for Metallica’s “One.”  After I watched the world premiere I just turned the TV off and went to bed without another word.  I didn’t care about some stupid Ratt video or whatever came on next – the video for “One” left me weary and somber.

This piece makes me think a lot of St. Petersburg, which I recently visited on my honeymoon.  It’s a very Russian piece, I think – that sense of imminent tragedy and futile struggle seems to be the kind of sentiment that Russians really go for.

(D) What I’ve Learned

-Tchaikovsky played with the traditional setup of the symphony, particularly in his later symphonies – and most obviously with Pathetique.

-this symphony has to be the biggest, heaviest, most expressive suicide note in the history of music.  I’ll never be able to listen to “A Tout Le Monde” by Megadeth again without sneering contemptuously.

-as an aside, Tchaikovsky once conducted a performance of Beethoven’s 9^th symphony.