Bach

Telling criminals to give it a rest

But wait — doesn’t a bit of the old Ludwig Van cause violence?

see more So Much Pun

Or Concert Roundup

The letters of the day are “O” and “R.”

• This week the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra plays Elgar that ISN’T a march from Pomp and Circumstance. Crazy, right? But apparently he also wrote a Serenade for Strings. And if you can’t get behind that, how about the second Bach violin concerto? Or a Mendelssohn octet? March 8 at the Meyerhoff. [ See it! ]
• Or if you prefer, you can catch the BSO outside their gilded cage in the wilds of Frederick on March 10, with the exact same program only for some reason it’s got its own completely separate link. What a bunch of weirdos. [ See it! ]
• Or! Have kids? I’m sorry; I would’ve counseled against it if you’d asked me beforehand. Ah, well, fait accompli. You’re probably desperate for a means to distract them on weekends; the BSO can help with that too. Their matinee children’s program “Sea Songs” promises shipwrecks, pirates, and Rimsky-Korsakov. March 10 at the Meyerhoff. [ See it! ]
• Current Cagematch! competitor Bartok in the house! The National Symphony Orchestra’s house, that is. It’s an all Bartok program, with The Miraculous Mandarin and Bluebeard‘s Castle. March 8 – 10; free discussion after the March 8 performance. [ See it! ]
• Or! On March 9, the NSO offers a rather more varied program. You still get a bunch of Bartok, but you can intersperse it with Kodaly, Liszt, and all the Brahms you can dance, provide your dance is Hungarian. [ See it! ]
• A smattering of upcoming Strathmore concerts: a jazz quintet, Ugandan song and dance, classical guitar, and Army and Marine bands. [ See the calendar! ]

The Best

Two weeks ago I made a list of composers I considered to be the greatest, in terms of talent, innovation, and output. I tried to make this as objective as possible while still noting that my own preferences and the limits of my knowledge base must unavoidably come into play.

This week? IT’S SUBJECTIVE TIME. Which, indeed, is kind of like Miller Time — alcohol free, yes, but with just as much opportunity to shout your opinions while gesticulating wildly and possibly falling out of your chair.

All of this is just to say that here I would like to present my list not of the greatest composers of all time but the ones I like BEST. Basically the idea here is a collection of the composers that, when the radio deejay says, “next is a piece by ________”, make me say “YAY!!!” Here goes:

1. BEETHOVEN (duh)
2. Bach
3. Khachaturian (and I stand by my decision)
4. Stravinsky
5. Schubert
6. Holst
7. Prokofiev
8. Shostakovich
9. Ravel
10. Tchaikovsky

There is of course a fair amount of overlap, but I bet some of them surprise you. Before you pull out your extra-sharp pitchfork, rest assured — I’m not suggesting Khachaturian ranks above Stravinsky in… well, in ANY category, really. Stravinsky is definitely the better composer. But Khachaturian makes me super happy! So high up the list he stays. Ya get me?

The nice thing about this list is, it’s even more changeable than a best-of list, undulating and evolving with your changing moods and interests; I expect Handel could sneak on to mine any moment now.

Now about you — who are you feeling right now?

The Greatest

Note: By the end of this post I will ask you to create your own list of the top ten composers. I’m ruining the ending for you because I think it might be neat if you do it now, before you’re corrupted by my list or the NYT list or your grocery list or what have you. Just a thought. Thank you; good morning!

Hey, remember how I said the lynchpin of the Composer Cagematch! is not who you feel is the better composer but rather who you love more? Well, put a pin in it. We’re playing a new game now.

A couple weeks ago while at my grandmother’s house my family got into a discussion about who the greatest composers of all time were — greatest, not our favorites. (Yeah, my family has random chats about classical composers — just wait until I tell you about the great Dvorak’s Origins Argument of Thanksgiving 2011. That one still resurfaces from time to time.) My mom pulled up a list from The New York Times music critic to get his top 10. Take a gander here.

His list began with the traditional top three but then had me ducking a few curveballs — Brahms? Really? Then he said in his article he would expect such skepticism — and it got me thinking as to what MY top ten would be. Naturally I don’t mean to say I’m a completely impartial judge (I’d say the immediately preceding sentence already knocked me out of contention for that title), but in making such a list I think one would have to look at quality over blind adoration. You’ll see what I mean.*

So… for now, here’s my top ten. I betcha my list could change as early as tomorrow, but in this moment, here are what I call The Greatest:

1. Bach
2. Beethoven
3. Mozart
4. Stravinsky
5. Schubert
6. Bartok
7. Shostakovich
8. Handel
9. Haydn
10. Prokofiev

What I find most interesting about this exercise is less about who made it but who didn’t — or rather, which sorts of composers didn’t. I didn’t name a single composer outside the Austro-Hungarian or Soviet area; nary an opera composer to be found. This is the hole in my classical understanding; this teaches me where I need to go next to expand my repertoire — and maybe revise my list once I have.

Well? How do you feel about my list? I expect some fightin’ words as opinions must always create. And what about you? For bonus points, how has your list evolved? If I can remember, I want to make this list up again next year and see if it’s changed. Someone remind me in 11.5 months, okay?

* Do you SEE that? Do you SEE how I put Mozart at number 3, even though he makes me want to sic a fictionalized Salieri on him? He’s there because he was a genius, and even if I don’t dig most of his works, I can recognize that. Incidentally, this is also how I feel about Faulkner.

Concert Roundup Up and Away

Good morning, campers! Are you ready to find out what you’re doing this weekend?

• Option number one: the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra is cheating. No, wait, that’s not true; it’s Sarasate who cheated with his fantasy on Bizet’s Carmen. Next time you write your own fantasy, young man; none of this downloading scores off the internet. Also on the menu: MacMillan‘s The Confession of Isobel Gowdie and Prokofiev’s fifth symphony. February 23 & 26 at the Meyerhoff. [ See it! ]
• Or if you want to hang with the BSO but feel that only Prokofiev is worth your time (that’s a little snobby, sir, but I see where you’re coming from), Marin Alsop will help deconstruct and contextualize the piece in another one of those snappy Off the Cuff concerts. It’s like a music history lecture with a live orchestra, and Alsop’s pretty funny! February 24 at Strathmore and February 25 at the Meyerhoff. [ See it! ]
• Maybe just music isn’t enough for you anymore. Maybe you need acrobatics to catch your interest. If so, the National Symphony Orchestra has you covered with one of those crazy Cirque de la Symphonie performances. The NSO Pops will play as circus performers of all stripes performing feats of daring. Tchaikovsky, Dvorak, and Khachaturian are all promised. February 23 – 25. [ See it! ]
• A smattering of upcoming Strathmore performances: a cello and piano duet, a Bach concert, a jazz vocalist. [ Check out the full schedule! ]

Remember, if you’d like me to include your upcoming concert in next week’s roundup, leave a comment or drop me a line.

Concert Roundup: Ascension

I can’t help but feel that my titles for these posts are rapidly losing touch with any kind of reality. Is there even a movie sequel subtitled “The Ascension”? Is the collective consciousness leading me on? Someone help! Or, y’know, attend a concert. Whichever.

• The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra goes super duper classical this week. Bach! Rameau! Haydn! Mozart! Doesn’t get much more solid than that. February 2 at Strathmore. February 4 at the Meyerhoff. [ See it! ]
• The National Symphony Orchestra takes a similar approach: Strauss! Beethoven! Beethoven’s Eroica, for crying out loud! February 2 – 4. [ See it! ]
• Strathmore offers so many concerts every week that I’m afraid I don’t get paid enough to cover them all here (blogging nets me $0/hr, which is pretty crappy until you consider that I get a 100% raise every year). I do want to call out highlights, however, especially those I’ll be attending personally. Inaugural highlight: Strathmore’s Discover Duke Ellington festival kicks off February 3 — three weeks of Duke Ellington concerts and lectures. [ Check it out! ]

If you’d like me to include your upcoming concert in next week’s roundup, leave a comment or drop me a line.

EDITED TO ADD: Hey students! Benevolent Dictator Jamie just sent me the following exciting news.

$10 Student Rush Tickets Available!

Looking for something to do on a Sunday night? Enjoy a nice break from school work and come hear the nine-time Grammy Award-winning Emerson String Quartet’s:

Lawrence Dutton
Baird Auditorium
Natural History Museum
February 12 at 6 PM

This concert offers an exclusive opportunity to hear the quartet
perform in an intimate setting with excellent acoustics.

Metro Stop: Federal Triangle
Walk south on 12th Street, and cross Constitution Avenue to the Natural History Museum on the left. (NOT on the National Mall side.)

Ticket prices for students: $10*
Rush tickets are available for purchase starting at
5:30 p.m. on February 12th at the door.

*Valid student ID required when purchasing and redeeming tickets.  Two tickets per student ID, per concert.  No refunds or exchanges available.  Subject to availability.

Music Gifts: Yo Johann, I’m really happy for you and I’mma let you finish

We interrupt your usual Thursday viola joke/Friday LOL/Monday video schedule for a few additional music gifts so that you can order anything you like in time for the holidays. I’ll make it up to you next week, I promise.

Boys, I hope you aren’t feeling left out — I know an alarming number of music gifts I’ve featured thus far have been girl-oriented, provided of course that you aren’t a cross-dresser, in which case you probably feel fine. But just in case, here’s something you can put on YOUR wishlist or wrap up for your best Y-chromosomed friend. Because dudes, this is the best shirt of all time. OF ALL TIME!!!

Awww, I kid. Everyone knows I have a soft spot for Kanye ever since a two-dimensional parody of him insulted Mozart in favor of Beethoven (that’s right; my affection is illogically transferable). Plus they call it the “Bach to the Future” t-shirt and everyone knows how I feel about a good pun (everyone knows a lot about me). Bonus: this sucker is only $6. Or $50 if you order ten — buy one for your whole orchestra!

Or I don’t know, maybe $6 is a little out of your price range. How about $4.95 for a full twenty Yuri the Angry Viola stickers? That’s twenty presents right there! Shopping list = done.

The 2011 Ain’t Baroque Trick-or-Treat Soundtrack

Last year I posted a spooky playlist for your Halloween pleasure, suitable for trick-or-treating, costume parties, and general pursuits of fright. It went over pretty well, so here it is again — only BETTER, because it’s augmented with additional suggestions. Let me know if you have any to add yourself!

1. Toccata and Fugue in d minor, by J. S. Bach (natch)
2. Carnival of the Animals, VII “Aquarium,” by Camille Saint-Saens
3. Funeral March of a Marionette, by Charles Gounod
4. “The Ghost’s High Noon” from Ruddigore, by Sir Arthur Sullivan (I’m partial to the King’s Singers version)
5. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, by Paul Dukas
6. I. “Gnomus,” from Pictures at an Exhibition, by Modest Mussourgsky
7. “Grim Grinning Ghosts” as performed by the Swingtips
8. Night on Bald Mountain, by Modest Mussourgsky (suggested by Ed Blonski)
9. Le Sacre du Printemps, by Igor Stravinsky
10. Danse Macabre, by Camille Saint-Saens
11. “March to the Scaffold” and “Witches’ Sabbath” from Symphonie Fantastique, by Hector Berlioz (suggested by Helikonios)
12. “In The Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt, by Edvard Grieg

Image from http://www.doitmyself.org/labels/pumpkin.html

Part 2: The bad music teacher

And now for another Controversial Opinion — for what is a blog but a means of airing personal grievances?

For I have a likely controversial point to make, and in so making I shall air a personal grievance. Purely for point making purposes, of course.

Follow me back, back, back, to middle school, when I was a wee violin student and began taking lessons with a private teacher. Let us call him Mr. Worthless, because you’d be surprised how well it works.

I don’t know when the tide shifted. I don’t know when Mr. Worthless and I became wary sparring partners. I can only assume it wasn’t from the first moment we met, or we probably wouldn’t have committed to lessons. I can tell you, though, that I don’t remember a time when we did get along. We traded veiled barbs and I hated every lesson.

Look, I know what you’re probably thinking — I bet you were a little snot. I bet you were a brat, tough to teach. And you know what? You’re right. I wasn’t trying to meet him halfway. But hold with me just a moment.

I specifically remember the week in school we got Bach’s second Brandenburg. This is a nice piece, ubiquitous enough that many are sick of it, not exactly ground-breaking work. It’s pretty easy to play but it’s fast and has a lot of runs, and I became obsessed with it. I was not a happy practicer — I used to waste time adjusting the metronome and fine-tuning the strings to eat up the allotted our — but I remember spending that entire hour playing the Brandenburg over and over and over, trying to get through a completely perfect run. Eventually my mom came in and pointed out that I should probably turn my attention to something else, which I did, so I did time-and-a-half that practice day.

We went to lessons that week — I say “we” because my brother had recently begun playing the viola, the instrument in which Mr. Worthless specialized, and we had an hour and a half blocked out for both of us in total. I always made my brother go first as the first person in generally wound up with the longer lesson, the second left with whatever remained of the 90 minutes.

I was so excited about the Brandenburg that I almost — ALMOST — volunteered to go first. Luckily I squelched this urge. But I wasn’t dreading it as per usual, and I went up to the music room on the second floor willingly. Even though it was a school piece, I whipped out the Brandenburg, eager to show him how well I had mastered it. I had gone through this piece for hours, after all, and that was a big deal for a non-prodigy such as myself.

So I played the Brandenburg, pretty well. Not perfect, but he must’ve seen my zeal. Couldn’t he see my zeal? I had found — of course I found it in Bach! — I had found at last some passion. I had played something for him, for the first time, that I wanted to play, and I wanted to hear his feedback, to improve upon it, to make it truly my own.

And Mr. Worthless sat quietly in his chair, the usual fighting smirk on his face. He looked at me, and he opened his mouth, and he gave me a lecture. He reamed me out for working so hard on the Brandenburg for school instead of the etude and Suzuki he had assigned me. What I had done, he said, was disrespectful and inappropriate, like slapping him in the face.

Go ahead and argue it — he was right. I should’ve concentrated on his pieces. I shouldn’t have taken that surly attitude to begin with. You, too, are absolutely right on all counts.

But here is where I insert my controversial thought: in the case of teaching, it is up to the teacher, not the student. Or to say it in Horace Mann’s far more eloquent words: “A teacher who is attempting to teach without inspiring in the pupil a desire to learn is hammering cold iron.”

I was cold iron and he the hammer, but with the Brandenburg I handed him the coal to light the fire. I came to him and said here — here is something that has made me care. Help me shape it. But he wouldn’t help me shape it, because I wasn’t using the material he had given me. (You can relax now — the metaphor is over.)

Again — the argument is a valid one that I shouldn’t have been so difficult. And again, my argument is that as teachers, the onus is on you.

There are different styles of teaching. Some are gentle and kind; some are harsh. My mother knows a trombone teacher who uses agitated gestures and angry words as motivators, and for certain types of people this method works. This would not work on me. Mr. Worthless tried to fight me, but mine is the sort of nature that, if faced with negative reinforcement, will simply shut down all attempts — for why should I reward you with my success?

Point being, that no single teaching style works on every student. And as a teacher, it is up to you to either discover the way to get through to your individual student or direct them to someone who will. You do a disservice to the both of you if you do not.

Why is it not also the responsibility of the student to bend to you? Well, ideally they would too, but it takes another kind of personality. Fact is, you are a music teacher — I hope — because you love music and you love playing your instrument. Hate to break it to ya, but the same can’t be said for all your students. We are handed instruments as kids and told to play. (See: Eddie Izzard.)

I, for example, love music but hate playing, because I find it unbelievably frustrating to hear the wrong notes come out. Some kids don’t even love music. Some kids love both but are driven by other forces to rebel. Some are perfect and come in and play perfectly –lucky you. But if every kid deserves a fair shot at learning — and if you don’t believe this you aren’t meant for teaching — then you must seek out the Brandenburg in every kid and nourish it.

If a kid that had shown little interest and/or has been troublesome comes in with something that excites them, be it a basic scale or a piece you never assigned, encourage them. Follow them for just a minute. Release the freakin’ butterfly and just see where it goes for a minute. Then use that insight to gently head the kid in the direction he needs to go. If you can’t, give him to another lepidopterist who can better understand this breed of butterfly. (This metaphor is now also over.)

Okay. Go ahead. Rant about all the bad kids you’ve had to teach. Not saying you haven’t suffered some little hellions. But I’ll say it again and if you ask me it’s the truth: as the teacher, the onus is on you.

Happy birthday, dear Johann! Happy birthday to you!

Intrepid Explorer Extraordinaire Rebekah made this. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

I’m not sure what the red stripe is supposed to represent. I bet it’s fertility.