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

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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:
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?
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:
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.
In the immortal words of The Sandlot: You’re KILLING me, Smalls.
I threw Verdi into the ring with a wince, guilt-ridden over the fact that I had no one stronger to defend against the mighty Handel. And what does Giuseppe do? Grinds Georg into a pulp and bakes him into a pie like some kinda classical Titus Andronicus. A late pro-Handel rush narrowed the gap, so that takes away a bit of the sting, but still. Verdi wins. Drat. (Also, I would totally order Handel pie, if only for the pun.)
Let’s move on quickly, because there’s only one match left in round 2. They are an odd match, and I am determined to arrange the battle with no preconceived notions.
And so in this corner, who could ask for anything more? Well, Berstein could. It’s

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEORGE GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERSHWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN
And in this corner, he’s got a little Liszt! It’s

FREEEEEEEEEDEEEEERIIIIIIIIIC CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN
I don’t know, guys. They’re the only two left. One of them is bound to show up on your iPod more often than the other, and get skipped less. Who is it?
Well. Part of this complete breakfast, indeed.
In yet another decision I simply cannot in good conscience cosign, Raisin Brahms knocked Mahler right out. Guys, you’re killing me.
But at least Mahler put up a decent fight and no one complained about poor matching. I warned you last week, so believe me when I tell you this — I fear for the last two second round fights. I’m staking out potential hiding places as I speak. Tell me, if an angry mob is as intelligent as the stupidest member’s IQ divided by the number of participants, should behind the couch be sufficient? Keep in mind it’s not pushed against the wall.
So, anyway… in this corner, he wiped the Monte right off his name! It’s

GIIIIIUUUUUUUSEEEEEEPPEEEEEE VEEEEEEEEEEERDIIIIIIIIIIIIII
And in this corner, he showed Haydn who’s really Papa! It’s

GEORG! FRIEDRICH! HAAAAAAAAAAAAANDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL
Okay, look. Verdi excelled in opera. Handel was sorta the father of English opera. Okay? Will you accept this logic? Will you at least admit it makes more sense than pitting either against Gershwin?
Hello and welcome to the first concert roundup of 2012! Are you seated comfortably? Then we’ll begin.
Looking for some respite from the relentless holiday cheer? Well, you’re not getting any. Suck it up, Mr. Scrooge.
Note: The below post has been slightly modified from the text as it was originally published. If you’d like to see the full version, email me.
Last Saturday my dear friend Rebekah and I hiked over to the Meyerhoff to take in the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra’s season-opening gala. I could just straight tell you what I thought, but I figured why not switch it up a bit? So here’s Rebekah and I indulging in a little post-concert discussion. Rebekah is a cello teacher and Peabody musicology grad student, so she’s more than qualified to weigh in. Two opinions for the price of one — how can you resist?
Jenn: First of all, I want to say that the absolute best part of the concert was when David Little almost knocked out Hilary Hahn by accident.
Rebekah: The surprise on her face was the best part because it was so genuine and she seems so nice.
J: Like a little elf!
R: I think she looks adorable!
J: The concert opened with Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man, which is of course a seminal work, and it always kinda gets me. I’m a documented sucker for horns. Alsop took the opening a little fast for my liking, but those horns were gold.
R: I actually… well, when you say fast, you mean she took it fast or she started the concert fast?
Now THAT was more like it.
Handel, you will likely be unsurprised to discover, won his match, but unlike the Gershwin-Bernstein slaughterhouse [funf!], Haydn put up a real fight. Handel only took it by a couple of votes, although, as my dad always says, it’ll look like a line drive in the box score.
And now, friends and neighbors, you better lift up that keyboard cover and adjust the piano bench, because in this corner, transmitting the preludes through his hair and fingertips, it’s

FREEEEEEEEEEDERIIIIIIIIIIIC CHOOOOOOOOOOPIIIIIIIIIIIIN
And in this corner, dramatically throwing his velvet gloves into the audience, it’s

FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAANZ LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISZT
Piano…. FIGHT! Do you choose the man whose lightning focus never wavered from the instrument? Or the man who broadened his horizons now and again? The man who preferred quietly playing for small groups of friends? Or the man who gloried in being, shall we say, the center of attention? Chopin is brilliant, but then I once declared that one of the qualities I looked for in a friend was the ability to headbang to Liszt. Maybe we should just throw Berlioz into the ring and see who has the larger portion of him in the end.
Well, someone finally did it. A composer finally garnered only ONE vote in his match. And it was Leonard Bernstein. I never would have expected that!
Gershwin CRUSHED Bernstein an embarrassing degree, which is why I think so few people bothered to vote — why weigh in on a sure thing? So rather than belabor this point, let’s just say Gershwin won and move along. (Crazy thing is, I think Bernstein really is beloved, just not… as much… I’m not really helping, am I?)
Anyway, I’m not sure if there’s any logic to this particular match up. I don’t know when or why it came to me. They don’t quite make sense as adversaries. Maybe it’s about how they were both brilliant but had the misfortune to be born at the same time as a great genius. Maybe it’s the simple fact that both should have strong enough followings for a decent fight this time. Maybe I’m easily wooed by alliteration. Just remember — it’s not about who’s the better composer, it’s about who you love.
And so in this corner, HALLELUJAH! It’s

GEEEEEEEOOOOOORG FRIIIIIIEDRIIIIIIIIICH HAAAAAAAANDEEEEEEEEL
And in this corner, SURPRISE! It’s

JOOOOOOOSEEEEEEEEF HAAAAAAAAAAYDNNNNNNN
PAAAAAPAAAAAA
Best of luck in this one, guys. You’ve got some serious oratorios to think about, not to mention ALL the symphonies. If all else fails, you can always vote based on your preference of Brits vs. Hungarians.