Longing for encouragement: Elgar

Enigma Variations by Edward Elgar (1857-1934) is a theme with a set of variations written about various people Elgar knew throughout his life. These people ranged from his wife, (variation 1) to his friend’s dog (variation 11) to a great friend and mentor (variation 9). It is variation number nine, entitled “Nimrod,” that expresses a great sense of longing. You may have heard this piece during the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer 2012 Olympic Games.

The names of these variations are meant to mask the person’s real identity, but in this case we know the real name is Augustus Jaeger, an older friend, critic, and a source of great encouragement for Elgar. It is said that when Elgar had many setbacks in his career, or felt depressed and thought about giving up composing, Jaeger was always there to encourage him to take heart and continue writing. Elgar reportedly stated that this movement is not so much of a portrait of Jaeger, but “a story of something that happened.”

I admire Elgar for writing a piece about people who have inspired and encouraged him. It sounds like a good exercise to sit down and write about those who have encouraged me over the years. This variation about the encouragement Edward Elgar received is in itself an encouragement to me. It helps me remember that I would not be the person I am today without the encouragement of my parents, my wife, my friends, clarinet teachers, and various other mentors in my life.

And that’s why I want to tell you about my friend, Jesus Christ.

Just kidding! You thought I was about to get preachy. But seriously, this work does remind me of Jesus. I was at a conference in college when I first heard Variation IX. It was the soundtrack to some powerful scenes from blockbuster movies. A word would appear on the screen, like “courage” and then it would show a scene from Saving Private Ryan, or it would say “true love” and would show the final scene from Sense and Sensibility. Finally, it said “sacrifice” and showed a scene from The Jesus Film with Jesus dying on the cross. I don’t remember the last slides, but the message was about the story of creation and how we have a God that loves us through it all. He has been a source of encouragement since I was very little and heard my first bits of Classical music. When I think about the way Jesus lived his life, the way he encourages me in dark places, and how he is so present in this moment the way this music is, I long for his goodness.

Instead of going into the musical reasons why this piece is so powerful, I have some homework: listen this piece in its entirety, with no distractions, and meditate on someone who has inspired you. Did anyone specific come to mind? Be encouraged and thankful for him or her, and let the longing you feel motivate you to continue doing all of the good things you do.

Love is complicated: Wagner

This weeks emotion in Classical music is love. I’m not sure if I agree with my Apple dictionary’s definition of love:

love |ləv| – noun – an intense feeling of deep affection

I’ve often heard that love isn’t an emotion because of how complex it is. For example, one can be in love but not feel loving. The thing is, love is complicated. It is risky, exposing one’s faults and true self to another. It is risky because when a person loves, she has more to lose. There is potential for loss in love. Loss of one’s sense of self or the loss of a lover. There is betrayal, the building and breaking trust, coping with loneliness during a loved one’s absence, and facing discontentment when a person doesn’t live up his promise and doesn’t ultimately satisfy the longing of the heart. Longing or desire is probably a more accurate term to describe this weeks music.

Imagine that you have dreamed of someone your whole life who would rescue you out of your bad situation and fall deeply in love with you. Let’s say you pray for this person to appear when you are falsely accused of something, and he does. This man, a knight, challenges your accuser and defeats him in a fight, driving him away. He then turns to you and declares his love and intention to marry you. This love seems pure, simple, and honest:

The problem is, you know very little about the person who you agreed to marry. This was the case for the character Elsa in the opera Lohengrin by Richard Wagner (1813-1883). Even though this knight insisted he was the real thing, Elsa could not help but feel uneasy about this decision. Nevertheless, the wedding was planned and Elsa was about to see her dreams come true right before her eyes. But she couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she can’t trust this man, even during the scene right before the wedding, known as Elsa’s Procession to the Cathedral. Though the harmony here sounds positive and celebratory, you can hear the tension and conflict in the music:

Wagner uses diminished chords and non-chord tones here to bring about dissonance which gives us a feeling of uneasiness. When the horns enter in this clip, it is almost startling how loud they are. It is like they are trying to force positive feelings upon us with their overconfidence. In the end, Elsa’s fears were confirmed when the knight’s true identity was revealed. He had only married Elsa to save her from her accuser. Elsa had married someone who turned out to be a stranger. He left her for his political career and Elsa died of a broken heart in the end. The famous wedding march, the one we all think of when we think of weddings, first appeared in Lohengrin in the scene after Elsa’s Procession. It is hard to believe that it has appeared in so many given the plot of the opera for which it was written!

Every genre of music writes about love, but only Classical music seems to capture the scope of emotions and complexity with any degree of elegance. The emotion that is most portrayed is longing. Longing to be loved, accepted, cared for, and to escape loneliness, worthlessness and death. That is something we all have in common, which is why I believe that Classical music is for everyone.

Fury: Stravinsky

fury |ˈfyo͝orē| – noun – wild or violent anger
rage |rāj| – noun – violent, uncontrollable anger

As my final post on anger & fury, I chose the 5th movement from The Firebird Suite, entitled “The Infernal Dance of King Kastchei” by Igor Stravinsky. As you can see above, fury and rage have similar definitions. The idea of uncontrollable anger fits these clips. In the ballet, The Firebird, the main character, Prince Ivan, confronts King Kastchei and is attacked by the king’s magical creatures. The Firebird, who promised to help Ivan, puts the magical creatures under his spell and makes them do an “infernal dance.” It is a very intense scene.

The writers at Disney took the story a different direction. In Fantasia 2000, The Firebird is a creature that was awakened deep inside a volcano by a delicate fairy. The volcano erupts, spewing fire and ash as the Firebird pursues the fairy until catching it, swallowing it in fire and lava. The bird in this story has a rather demonic character and seems to be filled with pure rage. This was not the sort of anger that could be reasoned with. Here is the opening of the movement:

There are a number of musical reasons why this clip from The Firebird Suite sounds so furious. It opens with a loud, orchestral bang that can be startling. After that, there is a melody in the horns and tuba that is played off the beat instead of on the beat, like most melodies. This creates a jarring effect. The horns are playing in their low range, similar to the way they did in my earlier clip from Shostakovich 5, where they sounded downright mean. The melody is full of half-step intervals which create dissonance. There is no chord progression here – it is just a minor key pedal, as though you had hit a low note on the piano while pushing the pedal. It is sustained throughout the melody; suspended. Ever feel like time stands still when you’re angry? That is what is happening here harmonically. After the second orchestral bang, the horns jump up two octaves to their upper range. This is a composer’s trick to add intensity to any melody by taking it up an octave. But Stravinsky is an over-achiever by going up two octaves.

The end of this work becomes even more out of control as the notes get faster and faster, the trumpets play fast, double-tongued notes, the trombones glissando (slide in between notes), and the biggest orchestral bang slams the door on us.

I hope you enjoyed listening to this aggressive Classical music. There are many great compilations that have titles like “Classical Thunder” that portray these emotions to an even greater extent. Here are some other pieces that display fury and anger, to name only a few:

Rachmaninov: Prelude In C Sharp Minor, Op. 3/2, “The Bells Of Moscow” – #2 In C Sharp Minor
Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring: I The Adoration of the Earth: Young Girls’ Dances
Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring: II The Sacrifice: Glorification
Orff: O Fortuna from Carmina Burana
Verdi: Dies irae from Requiem Mass

Next week: Longing, love & passion.

Calculated anger: Beethoven

There is not a single song or piece that we listen to today that has not been influenced in some way by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827). He established and popularized the musical language that is used in all of today’s popular music, jazz, and the vast majority of symphonic music that came after him. As one of my history professors put it, “no composer since has ever started to write a piece without first considering the work of Beethoven.”

Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 has one of the most recognizable phrases in all of Classical music. While the first movement is the most well-known, the other three movements display a wide variety of characters and emotions which are all held together by just four notes.

Don’t you want to keep listening? Copyright laws only allow a 30 second clip for educational purposes, or I’d upload it all. Beethoven has a way of gripping us and not letting go until the end of the piece. I wish I had time to tell you everything that is interesting about this piece and how it would affect the way you listen to it. Talking about Beethoven is not easy because there is so much I could say and I have so little time. So instead, I will simply talk about the character of the piece as it relates to anger. The kind of anger displayed here is not a wild violent anger but it is a carefully calculated anger. A stubborn, indignant anger. The kind of anger that comes out of deep thought.

The intervals (distance) between pitches are important in this four-note melody (technically it is a “motive” since it is so short). The interval between the third and fourth notes is a major third – a very human interval. It is an interval that our voices naturally sing when saying two-syllable words. When a mother calls to her children in the back yard, “Din-ner!” she usually sings a major third. But in Beethoven’s case, it is a major third that functions on the upper side of a minor chord. With this tonal language, it seems that Beethoven is communicating that anger is a very human emotion.

Secondly, anger can bubble up out of nowhere, the way it does after the introduction. The strings play several fast notes at a soft dynamic, becoming more insistent when the orchestra rushes in and makes three hard blows to the stomach. The anger intensifies when the four-note motive comes back again with the horns blasting along side the strings.

The rest of the movement moves from angry thought to angry thought, as though the character in this movement is trying to reason himself out of being angry. I love the suspense, the contrast, and they way Beethoven takes these four notes and makes a masterpiece out of them. Sometimes I think Beethoven and MacGyver are a lot alike. MacGyver could take a stick, bubble gum and a lighter and make a deadly weapon and Beethoven can take four notes and make a dazzling symphony.

I hope you get a chance to listen to the entire symphony. It is worth every minute. Don’t worry, I’ll get back to Beethoven soon enough. And I still won’t have enough time to say all there is to say about his music.

Anger in grief: Shostakovich

As you may already know, anger is not only an emotion but it is part of the grieving process. According to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, there are five stages of grief:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

I believe much of the grief Dimitri Shostakovich experienced during the oppression of Joseph Stalin is expressed in anger. Much of his art was suppressed and many of his countrymen were imprisoned and murdered. What Shostakovich did not have the freedom to express with words, he wrote into his music.

Bitter anger is the only emotion I can take away when listening to today’s clip from Symphony No. 5, Mvt 1. The piano, horns and trumpets are playing in their lowest range. It is not common to hear a piano solo that is this low because it would not project over the orchestra in a normal context. But Shostakovich removes the rest of the orchestra so the piano accompaniment is crystal clear. When the horns enter, they sound like trombones at first. Most people don’t realize that the horn has the widest range of any brass instrument. They can play as low or lower than a tuba and higher than most trumpets, with little effort. Of course, in this register the horn sounds raspy and mean. Perfect for this emotional context. The same is true for the trumpets in this clip. Even through it is members of the New York Philharmonic playing, their tone here is intentionally ugly.

Michael Tilson Thomas has a great commentary of this melody on Keeping Score. He says that the fourth note of the melody (listen again if you need to) is irregular. It doesn’t fit the key, which means we can label it a dissonant note. Because it is one half-step lower than we expect it to be, it pushes our buttons as listeners. Also, if you were to look at the notes of this melody on the page, they form the shape of a valley. The notes go down in the first half of the melody, and just when it doesn’t seem they can go any lower, Shostakovich takes them one step lower than that before coming back up. The lowest note in the melody is also the lowest note a trumpet can play, an F-sharp. Interesting the that the grief chart is also in the shape of a valley.

Symphony No. 5 is Shostakovich’s most famous piece. It is filled with interesting moments like these. Be sure to listen to the whole symphony if you get a chance.

Fury: Van der Roost

When I was in high school, there was this band that wore black and silver uniforms and performed aggressive, angry music at band contests. Quite frankly, they scared the hell out of the rest of us. Part of the reason for that was the music their director chose to perform had such “affect.” It moved the audience and always elicited an emotional response.

One of these pieces was Stonehenge by Jan Van der Roost (b. 1956) for Brass Band. The Brass Band is an English tradition that began in the late 1800s and exists today in many parts of Europe. Each town would have its own Brass Band and they would march to neighboring towns to have some of the first “battles of the bands.” The reason there were so many brass bands was because brass instruments were much less expensive to make than string or woodwind instruments during the Industrial Revolution, when metal and machinery became more widely available. Brass bands consist of piccolo trumpets, trumpets, cornets, French horns (though most are made in Germany now, so they are just called Horns), alto horns (like a small baritone), trombones, baritones, euphoniums (like a small tuba), various sizes of tubas, and percussion. I love the sound of a brass band because of the wide range of dynamics and pitch, from very high- to very low-sounding instruments. Going to a brass band concert is the closest thing to to seeing a Rock concert in the Classical music genre.

Stonehenge is a great example of the definition of the word fury. It portrays a violent, wild anger. An untamed, powerful anger. It begins with a soft, dream-like atmosphere that lasts for several minutes until the is a rumbling in the distance of drums and brass, sounding the alarm. When the threat finally arrives, a rampage of fury ensues:

The chord progression in this section is so thickly-scored by Van der Roost and has so much dissonance, it can sound almost atonal to the listener. Remember, atonal means there is no recognizable melody or key that the notes fit into. This coincides with the wild, violent anger of fury. Violence rarely makes logical sense. It can be disorganized, random, destructive, and pointless. Or raw aggression, which is what this clip seems to show. The composer wrote about the piece here, but does not give us very concrete answers as to what this music means.

Random angry baby

I like the use of silence in this next clip. Have you ever known someone who was really angry, but being completely silent about it? That is almost more scary than their violent outbursts.

The silences keep us in suspense. There are times during the day that I have enough frustration, I could imagine myself as the percussionist in this clip wailing on a drum. Can you feel it? Is your aggressive side coming out? Isn’t this a great way to deal with pent up aggression? Trying to think of bunny-shaped clouds never worked for me, anyway.

Anger in action: Holst

If you’re like me, then anger is an emotion that you feel on a regular basis at varying degrees. I’ve found it to be a very motivating emotion. Usually action is the result of anger, whether positive or negative. When there’s anger, stuff happens. In fact, as far as emotions go, anger seems to involve more action, raw energy and intensity than any other.

anger |ˈaNGgər| – noun – a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility

fury |ˈfyo͝orē| – noun – wild or violent anger

As you can see, fury is anger plus negative action. It’s wild. It’s violent. I picked fury as one of the emotions because Classical music depicts this kind of anger the most, as is the case in Mars from The Planets by English composer Gustav Holst (1874-1934). This is an incredibly well-known piece that has been heard in commercials, football games, and countless other contexts because of its overt character and memorable, agressive quality. This movement has also been imitated in a number of movie soundtracks by composers like Jerry Goldsmith, John Williams, and Hans Zimmer. In a future series, I will explore various movie soundtracks and show how they are influenced by Classical composers.

The subtitle of this movement is “The Bringer of War.” The image above is from the opening battle scene in the movie Gladiator.

It is evident that this music is angry and reminds us of war, but why? First, Holst uses dissonance by using a chord progression that doesn’t function like normal, Western music. It features many power chords that shift from minor to major. This reminds me of the scene in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi when the emperor tells Luke, “your hate has made you powerful.” Second, the time signature is in 5/4 time, which means there are five beats in a measure of time instead of 4. Most music has either 3 beats in a measure or 4 beats, but rarely 5. Subconsciously, the asymmetry of the 5/4 time throws the listener off balance. Third, brass instruments are featured in a big way in this movement. In the history of war, most civilizations used wind instruments to march out on the field and sound the advance, retreat, and otherwise excite the troops and intimidate the enemy. Finally, it is the driving tempo, drums, and dynamic volumes that are played, such as the stark contrast between the subdued, suspenseful beginning and this overtly loud, ominous clip:

I can already feel my blood boiling. And we’re just getting started.

Serene/content: Grieg

Morning Mood is the first movement in a four-movement suite (No. 1) entitled Peer Gynt by Edvard Grieg (1843-1907). The melody to this piece is very well-known, as is the playful and devious one from the fourth movement, In the Hall of the Mountain King. Beginning instrumentalists will know Morning Mood well because they only have to know 5 notes to play the melody. It appears in most beginner method books. Even though this work has been overly-exposed in method books, commercials and for every other frivolous occasion, I still find it to be a masterpiece worth experiencing from time to time because of the great contentment it expresses.

I have always imagined a dramatic sunrise while listening to this piece. At first, the dynamic is calm and soft – a very serene atmosphere. But as the light gets stronger, the tension builds as the listener gets the first glimpse of sunlight. When the light finally breaks fourth, a beautiful and vibrant landscape is revealed. I love how Grieg never leaves a phrase of music to end where it began. This piece is continually modulating to a higher, brighter-sounding key. To me, this signifies the sun rising higher in the sky. Instead of ending a phrase where it began, it moves beyond where we expected, which is thrilling.

There are many comforting aspects of this piece. The morning can often be a beautiful, inspiring time of day. To focus on nature with the senses – sight, sound, smell, touch, and taste – can help relieve stress and make life seem to slow down a little. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, “stop and smell the roses.” The message of this weeks posts on emotion is that life could be just that much easier and more peaceful by listening to Classical music actively, while not doing anything else but taking in its beauty and listening to its simple messages.

Next week: Anger! Grr!

Serenity Now: Grieg

One of my inspirations for this series on Emotion in Classical Music was listening to the local Classical radio station’s “Road Rage Remedy.” On weekdays, at 7:20am and 5:20pm, they play a piece of Classical music that creates a serene atmosphere in the car. When listening to this music in the height of rush hour, it is difficult to get upset when someone cuts me off, breezes by on the shoulder, waits to merge until the last second, or drives slowly in the left lane. If I turn up the volume in my car, I can’t even hear the road or engine noise. It is quite pleasant.

Edvard Grieg‘s (1843-1907) Lyric Pieces for Solo Piano are an example of a Road Rage Remedy. The piano can be an incredibly calming instrument. It’s something about the way those hammers hit the strings that draws my ear. Pianos can sound like wind, rushing or bubbling water, a car engine, a full orchestra, a woman’s voice, or even children playing,

The tone in Arietta from Book 1 of the Lyric Pieces reminds me of my son, Bennett. He is eight months old and has a playful, innocent, content character (most of the time). In fact, it is not uncommon for the unique character of a piece of Classical music to remind me of specific people I know, famous people, or figures in history. Assigning a theme song to a specific person is called a leitmotif. It first appeared in Wagner’s operas and has been used in countless contexts, from Peter and the Wolf to Star Wars. I would love to do a series on leitmotif in the future.

I have put together a slide show to go with today’s clip. The serene atmosphere in the Lyric Piece is achieved again with a soft dynamic, a slow tempo, major chords, some rubato (the changes in speed at which the song is played), and the fact that it sounds a lot like the song Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Try singing the words of it to this clip. The rhythm and tempo are the same, but the melody is different. Of course, this was originally composed by Mozart in 1781 as the theme of Twelve Variations on “Ah vous dirai-je, Maman,” a French folksong.

I think next time I’m in sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I’ll put on this music and think about my son, who doesn’t have a care in the world.

Serenity in nature: Respighi

Many listen to Classical music because of its capacity to relax and intrigue the listener. This is certainly the case in Pines of the Janiculum, the third movement from Pines of Rome by Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936). Janiculum Hill is a landmark in western Rome that has some historical and mythological significance. Click the link to read about it on Wikipedia.

Pines of Rome is four programmatic movements – there is a story in each. The scenes take place in a village with children playing, in dark catacombs, climbing a mountain, and on a hill at night overlooking a beautiful city with nightingales chirping in the background, which is the case for this movement. Each movement depicts the great diversity pine trees around the city of Rome.

Pines of the Janiculum begins and ends with beautiful, extended clarinet solos. This excerpt from the first solo is incredibly sentimental. It brings to mind all that is beautiful, sweet, peaceful, good, warm, and right in the world. The character of it is also playful and not too serious, but one of great contentment. The soft dynamic, warm-sounding string chords, and the beautiful tone quality of the clarinet help bring these sentiments about.

This next clip is simply breath-taking. The orchestra seems to sigh, as though it is taking in a beautiful view of nature for the first time. Though I have probably heard it a thousand times, I am often moved to tears by this section. The harmony is mysterious and beautiful. As it gets louder, the chord progression moves in a direction that is a surprise, which helps draw in the listener. The effect is always deeper relaxation.

To people who say they don’t like Classical music I would say listen to all four movements of Pines of Rome. Respighi speaks to the human experience in this piece in a tangible way.