Friday, June 28, 2024

Magic Moments

There was a tune that had been stuck in my head, for close to 50 years!!!  I can almost remember the year, roughly, when I heard the tune; it was around the time the Disney movie The Lady and the Tramp arrived in theatre's in our town (the City of Colombo, in the land of the Brave, and the home of the Coconuts).  This is going to be s confusing story-- not least because of the coconuts, I suppose-- but try to follow.  While waiting for The Lady and the Tramp, I think I heard an instrumental version of Mac The Knife.  I somehow learned the name of that tune, but the two tunes were somehow connected in my memory, and I learned a lot about Mack the Knife, but absolutely nothing about the other tune!

I had got to the point where I was considering writing down this unknown tune from memory, making an mp3 out of it, and putting it up on fB, and asking if anyone knew the name of the tune!  That brings us to today, when, our of the clear blue sky, a video of the song comes over my fB feed!!!

How did fB know that I was interested in this tune?  Maybe I was humming the tune to myself, and some AI program heard it!

Anyway, the song is called "Magic Moments," and is sung by Perry Como.  Perhaps it's just as well I didn't go through with putting the tune up on fB; I had gotten some little details wrong in how I remembered it. 

Well, that's my post for today!

Archie

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Santana covers a Beatles Classic

What came across my fB feed but a video of Santana's cover of the Beatles classic "While my guitar ..."

What's sad about this version is that the song is sardonic in its very intention ["I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping ..."]  It's not a lovesong, by any stretch of the imagination!

In the original, sung by George Harrison, the guitar solo, where the 'weeping' happens, still makes sense, though it isn't George playing it; it's Eric Clapton.  In Santana's cover, he has a woman singing the words, and there is a feeling of humor in it that may or may not be intentional!  

This song---and this is not why made the remark about Santana's cover---is considered important above and beyond its intrinsic significance as advancing the Beatles'style.  Some rock musicologists claim that it is the birth of Heavy Metal.  I don't really know what heavy metal is; of course I know, in a vague way, what it's considered to be, but in a question about the birth of something, you have to know precisely what the thing is.  That extended guitar solo might or might not be the mother of the sub-genre of Heavy Metal, but it is an interesting thought.

Well, to quote the immortal words of Forrest Gump: That's all I have to say about that.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Queen

[This was first posted on "I Could Be Wrong'.]

I found myself calling out:  'I see a little silhouetto of a dog!'  And I added, Scaramouche, Scaramouche ...

Can you believe how much Queen has impacted our generation—and those immediately following? 

When our daughter and her OM team had gone into regional competition—usually at Berwick SD—they usually had "Another one Bites the Dust" playing over the speakers (and, of course "We will rock you").

A friend of mine, from our choir days (Messiah,  Nelson Mass, Christmas Carols) brought 'A Night At the Opera', and we (and Umanga) thoroughly enjoyed "I like to ride my bicycle" and other jewels!

And last, but certainly not least, there was 'Somebody to Love', and let's not forget the version with George Michael!

They were the Champions. ... Maybe I can talk our Band "The Encores" into playing a Queen song.

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

The Recorder in the Music of Bach

There was a time when I thought that all the flutes in Bach pieces were, in fact, recorders.  (I mean the so-called blockflute, that has a built-in whistle mouthpiece, see pictures below).  Later, I discovered that even the usual transverse flutes (called Flauto traverso in Italian) had the tone I was associating with recorders. 

This is one of the Brandenburg Concertos, written by Bach as a gift for the Margrave of Brandenburg, as a sort of calling-card.  (He was hoping for a position at that court, or at least a commission for a work.)  It is a concerto for multiple instruments (a concerto grosso) in this case for three recorders, a solo violin, and a harpsichord, and strings.  The recorders are prominent in the whole work, and create a truly magical fairy-like, or heavenly effect.  All through my teen years, this was one of my favorite pieces, and if you're not careful, it might get adopted by your kids, too.

https://youtu.be/Ra29AHsZQSQ?si=CvzIggOzk-jWxbN_

Sunday, March 31, 2024

The Meaning of Music

The title to this post is ambiguous.   So much so that its intended meaning might not strike the reader at all.  What I mean is that certain music phrases have been used, for centuries, to convey certain musical feelings and moods; so much is obvious.  But we expect that they convey different feelings to different people.  No!  From hearing the same phrases used with the same meaning (by different composers) so often, music lovers can begin to understand a conventional meaning to these phrases, which the composer could (I'm not saying they consciously do, but they could choose to do so) use them to underline particular feelings!

On my own, I had begun to think this way as a teenager.  But then, I came across a book by Deryck Cooke, a somewhat specialized British author and musicologist—now dead—called The Language of Music, in which he tried to prove this very thesis: that certain musical phrases can be used intentionally to convey specific emotions. 

Cooke is best known for his thematic analysis of Richard Wagner's Ring of the Nibelungs.  This is a cycle of four operas, based on an epic poem, and—I believe—certain germanic myths and legends.  These matters could take an interested music lover a lifetime to get to the bottom of, but the basic idea is that Wagner deliberately used musical melodic fragments—called Leimotifs—to convey the dramatic logic, the cause and effect, of the thoughts and actions of the protagonists of the opera.

Soon after I had learned about Deryck Cooke, I stumbled on a two-CD album, with copious accompanying notes and musical illustrations—today easily available in almost any public library; certainly in our own—in which he sets out his analysis of the Leitmotifs of Wagner's Ring Cycle, and I for one think his analysis is exactly on the money.  It is a huge edifice; and that's what the opera cycle needed, lasting close to fifteen hours, total, to hold it together.

I'm not going into the Wagner operas today.  But the old hymns of Easter illustrate one of the family of musical phrases that are most obvious, in those that I recognized as a youth: triumph, and joy!

Those two words, more than any others, encapsulate what Believers feel at Easter.  (In the interest of full disclosure, I'm an atheist, but anyway ...)  Actually, there are two emotions I want to talk about: the feeling of triumph; and the feeling of completion.

The rising scale.  In the scale of C, the notes C, D, E, F, G, in sequence, convey a feeling of assertion, a feeling of having something to say.  Even just the rising triad, C, E, G, which sounds like the beginning of a fanfare, sounds like a challenge, or even a defiant challenge.  And there is a feeling of uncompleted business.  (Note that, almost necessarily, the meanings I'm trying to convey are vague.  There is no exact correspondence between musical meanings, and literary meaning.  The phrase can be abbreviated to just a rising fifth: C-G, and still convey that feeling of a challenge, or just a question: What?!

The second phrase I want to describe is the descending scale: C' B A G F E D C.  As Deryck Cooke describes it, this musical phrase conveys a feeling of coming home, of closure.  The two half- phrases C' B A G, and F E D C convey parts of this idea of conclusion. 

In a lot of Easter music, these two phrases are combined, to convey a challenge, triumph, satisfaction, the conclusion of an argument.  The easiest examples are, of course, Easter hymns. 

One of the oldest, and most famous Easter hymns is: The strife is o'er, the battle won.  The tune by Palestrina sorry  Melchior Vulpius, I believe, incorporates both the challenge tune, and the satisfaction tune. 

There is another hymn, not as ancient, nor as well known as the Palestrina: This joyful Easter tide, often used as an anthem for Easter.  This tune, too, incorporates the two phrases, for a challenge, and for a successful conclusion.  If I can, I will color-code the examples. 

Here is the music of The Strife is O'er, the tune of Melchior Vulpius.  Again, the tune dates from around 1611:

The tune for the first two measures has the descending phrase, which I described as conclusive, satisfaction.  The next phrase or two, in the example, raise the challenges; the ending descending scale repeats the satisfactory conclusion.  In fact, the entire tune is replete with satisfaction, confidence, and, I suppose, celebration.
 

Here is a reconstruction of This Joyful Eastertide, which is apparently derived from a Dutch tune of the 17th century, harmonized by the well-known arranger of sacred music, Charles Wood (but here by me).

The first complete measure has the ascending tune of assertion and challenge.

The last three complete measures have the complete descending scale of F major!  As a treble, I loved to sing this line, and I'm sure, so does anyone singing this part.

Conclusions

Both these examples are from the 17th century, and that's not a coincidence; that was the era of protestant congregational singing, and that doubtless had a lot to do with establishing the emotional content of musical phrases.  Some would argue that this entire phenomenon flows from hymnody.

Arch

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

'Bist du bei mir'

Anna Magdalena's Notebook

 Johann Sebastian Bach's second wife—to whom he was married at the time he died—was Anna Magdalena, a woman much loved by many generations of music-lovers, and certainly Bach-lovers.  Anna Magdalena maintained an album, in which she copied many short pieces by her husband, and many other pieces that took her fancy.

Among these is a remarkable aria: Bist du bei Mir, which was, identified last century, to have been written by Heinrich Gottfried Stölzel, a talented contemporary of Bach's.  (In fact, a biographer of Stölzel is said to have declared that Bach and Stölzel were equally talented.  However, Stölzel did not have nearly as great an impact on music as did Bach.)

I've joined the New Horizons band for seniors in our hometown, and this spring, we're performing Bist du bei mir, arranged for band.  When I was 17 or so, a friend of my parents was anxious to teach me violin.  So I was given the loan of a violin, and asked to practice this very piece.  At that time, I had never heard it before, and thought it a fussy little tune; I had been told it was by Bach himself, and I told myself that it couldn't possibly be by Bach, whom I revered.  Soon my violin teacher gave up on me, saying that my intonation was too 'piano-like', by which she meant that my ear wasn't good enough to tune my fifths according to the just intonation that string players use, but that I was playing 'piano fifths', that were just a tiny bit out of tune to the ears of violinists.  (Hardly anyone today can tell the difference, unless they're temperament experts, which I certainly am not.)

The Stölzel aria, I have come to recognize for half a century, is just a gem.  Early in the aria, there is a chord that I described in the post about Harmonica Harmony, the dominant ninth but without the root.  There are numerous features in the song that provide 'hooks' for anyone wanting to hear it, but no hooks are necessary; it is a brilliant tune, evidently recognized by Anna Magdalena Bach, who was an extremely musical person.

Bear in mind that the tune is, basically, an aria, that is, a song.  Most of the recordings of it on YouTube emphasize the soprano line.  But to me, the counterpoint is wonderful.  Without being obtrusive, the parts caress the melody, giving the accompaniment a lot of character.  In orchestral arrangements, the counterpoint is usually smothered, but here is one, FWIW.

Saturday, March 16, 2024

General Education

I just read, today, that the great Canadian pianist, Glenn Gould, did not complete high school. This is only the last in a series of stories about various—quite intelligent—historical figures who, for one reason or another, either struggled with, or gave up on, education.  Einstein is said to have struggled with simple mathematics.  Many important artists and musicians gave up school.  Actors have abandoned school, but have in some cases, gone back to school to try and complete their education. 

What are we to make of this?  Education is the imparting of certain skills from a knowledgeable person, to a (usually) younger person.  In modern times, the recipients are usually a group (a class), who are all taught together. 

I worry that this failure of the educational process could encourage young people in their belief that the education process is seriously flawed.  Well, we've all known that the educational process is flawed to some degree.  It does not take into account the great variation in the mental equipment of the members of a class; their different degrees of predisposition to learn; their psychological resistance to being taught; their emotional incompatibility with the instructor.  It's quite easy for a student to reject his or her teacher; "It's just not working out."

In case anyone thinks that all those future celebrities who bailed on school were incapable of completing school, I'd say that many of them had a firm grasp of most subjects in the curriculum; certainly Glenn Gould did, and probably Einstein.

What prevents modern schools from customizing the curriculum yet more than it is now, to match the preferences of the students (and parents) perfectly, is the cost.  In many ways, College accommodates this desire to have a more varied curriculum.