WEEK OF 080825: UNFINISHED SYMPHONIES // EMERALDS
Schumann: "Zwickau" Symphony
Beethoven: Unfinished Symphony
Schubert: Unfinished Symphony
Emeralds: Solar Bridge
Here I list the "record of the week" (often a few records), which I listen to repeatedly all week long while I work, letting the music seep deep into my mind, and painting my activities with a color that I will forever remember whenever I later recall each piece. I also post other thoughts on music here too.
2008-08-25
2008-08-18
WEEK OF 080818: ASHTRAY NAVIGATIONS // HAYDN SONATAS
Ashtray Navigations: A Mayflower Garland
This music is like a curtain; klanging, billowing. It's one of those teleportational incantations that whirrs as you float around the globe. What's-his-name is getting better and better at combining aloof noise with incomparable beauty. This creates a splendid environment, if one can hear past the high pitched plinks and fuzzy glaze. There's one track that's incredibly annoying, however.
Haydn: Piano Sonata 60 (Hob50)
Haydn: Piano Sonata 62 (Hob52)
My friend Ore reccommended these along with last week's symphonies. The numbering of Haydn's piano sonatas are very confusing, but I double-checked with Ore and these are masterpieces which he finds to be amongst the best music he knows. He said he also likes #61, but said it was weird (up my alley!); however I have not found it yet. #60 starts out adorably cute and bouncy. I wasn't affected so much by it, but the playing is superb; I love the dynamics. It's quite fast and has some exuberances that people tend to attribute to Beethoven. I like the slow languor of the second movement. The third movement seems to resume the exuberances of the first movement.
Haydn: String Quartet Op.20 No.5 (F-minor)
When I learned of Haydn's "Sturm und drang" period ("storm and stress") while reading about last week's "Farewell Symphony", I sought out more of this music that signals the end of the enlightenment and birth of romanticism. These cusps of grandeur meeting tragedy elate me. I think this is life; beautiful and beyond words, but damnable and frightening for its finality. Some pieces of this quartet are a bit too lighthearted for me, but around every corner there is a bent tone of seriousness and reality.
Ashtray Navigations: A Mayflower Garland
This music is like a curtain; klanging, billowing. It's one of those teleportational incantations that whirrs as you float around the globe. What's-his-name is getting better and better at combining aloof noise with incomparable beauty. This creates a splendid environment, if one can hear past the high pitched plinks and fuzzy glaze. There's one track that's incredibly annoying, however.
Haydn: Piano Sonata 60 (Hob50)
Haydn: Piano Sonata 62 (Hob52)
My friend Ore reccommended these along with last week's symphonies. The numbering of Haydn's piano sonatas are very confusing, but I double-checked with Ore and these are masterpieces which he finds to be amongst the best music he knows. He said he also likes #61, but said it was weird (up my alley!); however I have not found it yet. #60 starts out adorably cute and bouncy. I wasn't affected so much by it, but the playing is superb; I love the dynamics. It's quite fast and has some exuberances that people tend to attribute to Beethoven. I like the slow languor of the second movement. The third movement seems to resume the exuberances of the first movement.
Haydn: String Quartet Op.20 No.5 (F-minor)
When I learned of Haydn's "Sturm und drang" period ("storm and stress") while reading about last week's "Farewell Symphony", I sought out more of this music that signals the end of the enlightenment and birth of romanticism. These cusps of grandeur meeting tragedy elate me. I think this is life; beautiful and beyond words, but damnable and frightening for its finality. Some pieces of this quartet are a bit too lighthearted for me, but around every corner there is a bent tone of seriousness and reality.
2008-08-11
WEEK OF 080811: HAYDN SYMPHONIES (FAREWELL & DRUMROLL)
Haydn: Symphony 45 (Farewell)
While walking down the stone stairs to go home one evening, I chanced upon Ore, a friend who formerly was a hallmate in my workplace. Upon our cordial catching up, I slipped to Ore that I had been listening to Schubert. I have often slipped casual comments to him about my growing interest and experiments with listening to classical music, for Ore had formerly played piano at Julliard. Ore often would ignore my nods to his past, for I surmise he (besides shy) is distancing himself from the world of classical music. Nevertheless, on this night, Ore's face lit up when I explained how I'd been listening to these works of art and emotion with diligence, and allowed me to extract his opinions. These two Haydn symphonies came out, and I am quite glad. I had overlooked Haydn, primarily because the classical composers had seemed to invoke emotion less often in their work. On the contrary, Haydn led a particular life apart from the critical society of the cities, instead spending a few decades composing for a rich Hungarian prince at his estate, with some freedom thus to explore the possibilities of music. This farewell symphony came during a time when the composer wrote many minor key pieces in parallel with a literary movement called "Sturm und drang" (Storm and stress), which emphasized bleak emotions in contrast to rationalism. This symphony begins with a frantic flight, perfect for working during, imparting my scattered mind with a focus on what is important. I admit that the slow Adagio movement had not sunk in by the end of the week's listening, but it is sublime and stately, avoiding sadness but wavers with its calm struggle.
Haydn: Symphony 103 (Drumroll)
This symphony begins with a ferocious warlike drumroll. I hate it. I spent some moments this week explaining to friends my hatred for the western trapkit (the rock drum set) and its violence and masculinity. Thankfully the drum only invokes the symphony and does not play so ferociously throughout. Admittedly, I was bored by much of this symphony. It's got some interesting challenging waves of sound, for the ordinarily dainty music of the classical period, but it still seems quite aristocratic for my tastes. The real reason Ore had recommended it was because it has, as its second movement, a set of variations -- an interest of mine. Unfortunately, these variations (although suitably peculiar, in that they originated from a folk tune, I believe) are not so varied at all. Was Beethoven the first to explode the variation form? Bach's Goldberg variations are quite revolutionary... So why were these so stiff? Perhaps because a wildly variant set of exercises would not have a place within a symphony? I do not know, but I'm a bit sad that I wasted my time listening to this, when I might have selected another symphony from the Sturm und drang period of Haydn's works.
Haydn: Symphony 45 (Farewell)
While walking down the stone stairs to go home one evening, I chanced upon Ore, a friend who formerly was a hallmate in my workplace. Upon our cordial catching up, I slipped to Ore that I had been listening to Schubert. I have often slipped casual comments to him about my growing interest and experiments with listening to classical music, for Ore had formerly played piano at Julliard. Ore often would ignore my nods to his past, for I surmise he (besides shy) is distancing himself from the world of classical music. Nevertheless, on this night, Ore's face lit up when I explained how I'd been listening to these works of art and emotion with diligence, and allowed me to extract his opinions. These two Haydn symphonies came out, and I am quite glad. I had overlooked Haydn, primarily because the classical composers had seemed to invoke emotion less often in their work. On the contrary, Haydn led a particular life apart from the critical society of the cities, instead spending a few decades composing for a rich Hungarian prince at his estate, with some freedom thus to explore the possibilities of music. This farewell symphony came during a time when the composer wrote many minor key pieces in parallel with a literary movement called "Sturm und drang" (Storm and stress), which emphasized bleak emotions in contrast to rationalism. This symphony begins with a frantic flight, perfect for working during, imparting my scattered mind with a focus on what is important. I admit that the slow Adagio movement had not sunk in by the end of the week's listening, but it is sublime and stately, avoiding sadness but wavers with its calm struggle.
Haydn: Symphony 103 (Drumroll)
This symphony begins with a ferocious warlike drumroll. I hate it. I spent some moments this week explaining to friends my hatred for the western trapkit (the rock drum set) and its violence and masculinity. Thankfully the drum only invokes the symphony and does not play so ferociously throughout. Admittedly, I was bored by much of this symphony. It's got some interesting challenging waves of sound, for the ordinarily dainty music of the classical period, but it still seems quite aristocratic for my tastes. The real reason Ore had recommended it was because it has, as its second movement, a set of variations -- an interest of mine. Unfortunately, these variations (although suitably peculiar, in that they originated from a folk tune, I believe) are not so varied at all. Was Beethoven the first to explode the variation form? Bach's Goldberg variations are quite revolutionary... So why were these so stiff? Perhaps because a wildly variant set of exercises would not have a place within a symphony? I do not know, but I'm a bit sad that I wasted my time listening to this, when I might have selected another symphony from the Sturm und drang period of Haydn's works.
2008-08-04
WEEK OF 080804: SCHUBERT // LUCKY DRAGONS
Schubert: String Quintet (D.956)
Two months have flown by, this summer, and again at the Mission Arts and Performance Project (MAPP) I saw Classical Revolution play some pieces. I again was the only patron to inquire the names of the pieces performed, and a violinist anxiously amended the given explications with some syrup that the next piece that they were about to play was her favorite piece of music. Indeed, it was ferociously good, and it swiftly was selected by me for this week's "record" of the week. The piece is Schubert's final composition, and vascillates between major and minor. A contemporary of my boy, Beethoven, Schubert's work is very similar but without the outbursts. Of course musicologists might scoff at my smearing two different colors together, but what I mean is that both composers are bold enough to inject emotion (and often tortuous ones) amongst the pretty splendor that the world and our silly society performs for us in our cordial feats. This music totters from moment to moment (perhaps even note to note) on the edge of being something to tremble about, but remains measured. There are many repetitive, rhythmic phrases, which I rather liked, when paired with the postrock record reviewed below.
Lucky Dragons: Dream Island Laughing Language
It's important for me, as a dreamer, and a poet, to keep up with post-rock. I once wailed that I would consume only this sort of instrumental music, as it is probably the best and most beautiful sort of our times, which I would characterize as sparkling and defiant of the gloom that looms over us, environmentally and economically. What I mean to say is that, with such a large wealthy class here in America, things are glorious and beautiful. You can see that in the pop music, today, but that sort of frivolity is narrowminded. What really can be acclaimed about an artist is their foresight -- their ability to conjure the future, or the movements of parallel moments in our era.
What this music captures, for me, with its repetitive gongs and hums, clomps and scrapes, taps and hoots, and sundry other pseudo-sino sinewaves, is the sun shining on a hustling earth, too fast to bask in its fleeting splendor. I will always recall, in this music, the memory of awakening from a friend, Brent's, birthday bonfire at the Albany landfill, and heading out back from the artificial peninsula (dream island, indeed... I once saw a free performance of Shakespeare's "the tempest" at the landfill!) towards the mainland, with the recently risen sun sparkling up from the bay at me and the strange wave of dog-walkers peppering my heady morning with their sad ridiculousness, as this music bubbled and gleefully stuttered back, affirming that the world still brews.
Schubert: String Quintet (D.956)
Two months have flown by, this summer, and again at the Mission Arts and Performance Project (MAPP) I saw Classical Revolution play some pieces. I again was the only patron to inquire the names of the pieces performed, and a violinist anxiously amended the given explications with some syrup that the next piece that they were about to play was her favorite piece of music. Indeed, it was ferociously good, and it swiftly was selected by me for this week's "record" of the week. The piece is Schubert's final composition, and vascillates between major and minor. A contemporary of my boy, Beethoven, Schubert's work is very similar but without the outbursts. Of course musicologists might scoff at my smearing two different colors together, but what I mean is that both composers are bold enough to inject emotion (and often tortuous ones) amongst the pretty splendor that the world and our silly society performs for us in our cordial feats. This music totters from moment to moment (perhaps even note to note) on the edge of being something to tremble about, but remains measured. There are many repetitive, rhythmic phrases, which I rather liked, when paired with the postrock record reviewed below.
Lucky Dragons: Dream Island Laughing Language
It's important for me, as a dreamer, and a poet, to keep up with post-rock. I once wailed that I would consume only this sort of instrumental music, as it is probably the best and most beautiful sort of our times, which I would characterize as sparkling and defiant of the gloom that looms over us, environmentally and economically. What I mean to say is that, with such a large wealthy class here in America, things are glorious and beautiful. You can see that in the pop music, today, but that sort of frivolity is narrowminded. What really can be acclaimed about an artist is their foresight -- their ability to conjure the future, or the movements of parallel moments in our era.
What this music captures, for me, with its repetitive gongs and hums, clomps and scrapes, taps and hoots, and sundry other pseudo-sino sinewaves, is the sun shining on a hustling earth, too fast to bask in its fleeting splendor. I will always recall, in this music, the memory of awakening from a friend, Brent's, birthday bonfire at the Albany landfill, and heading out back from the artificial peninsula (dream island, indeed... I once saw a free performance of Shakespeare's "the tempest" at the landfill!) towards the mainland, with the recently risen sun sparkling up from the bay at me and the strange wave of dog-walkers peppering my heady morning with their sad ridiculousness, as this music bubbled and gleefully stuttered back, affirming that the world still brews.
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