Beethoven's Fifth

Most everybody knows about Beethoven's 5th Symphony.  I've heard a dozen recordings of it, including ones by Toscanini, von Karajan, and Furtwangler, Gardiner.  These names might not mean anything to you now, but classical music lovers eventually develop sort of a crush on this symphony, and particular recordings have particular significance to them. 

Admittedly, most of us (yes, obviously I'm one of these people) are a little in awe of this work.  This is not a very good thing, because that makes us not get the piece as music, but rather as a sacred relic.  It is just a fantastic piece of music in its own right; just sit and listen to the thing. 

If this is the first symphony you've listened to, it's rather overpowering, and not in a good way for everyone.  The ending alone goes on for quite a while. 

This next bit is for those who are new to symphonies.  Symphonies are usually in four movements. 

The first movement is in rather special form, which I will detail later. The second movement is usually slower, and mostly quieter. The third movement is in triple time, and often has a sort of 'dancy' swing to it. The fourth and final movement is often a rondo, with a recurring tune.  Well, I'm pooped; I'll fill in the rest soon.

Tchaikovsky

I had always regarded Tchaikovsky as a good composer in his own way, but not to be compared with Mozart, and Schubert, and the composers I considered 'The Greats'.

Now, you all know about the band I play in.  I had to learn an instrument from scratch, and attend rehearsals and all that sort of thing, and presently I was learning all about about music from the inside. 

One piece we're playing is a number from The Nutcracker ballet suite, and I'm learning what an amazing composer Tchaik was.  Now, because ours is a very humble band,  in many ways, the music we play is far removed from the Nutcracker music played by a concert Orchestra.  The arrangement itself is ingenious; it contains all the melodic lines that would catch the ear, and leave out as much as possible, so that we can play it with the few players we have—around 14 of us.  Even with that stripped-down version, the music is brilliant!

It was quite some time until I began to pay attention; I was preoccupied with fingering, and just getting the notes.  But one day,  I noticed: wow,  this is amazing writing!

The man was not universally admired in his lifetime, which was tragic.  I'm not familiar with his life story, but I'm going to read up on it when I can.  If you didn't know, Tchaikovsky wrote several symphonies as well, at least some of which are considered masterpieces. 

Archie

Small Ensembles

Let's start from 19th Century, and work backward. 

The most common sort of small ensemble is probably the string quartet.  It consists of two violins, [lowest note: G below Middle C], a viola,  [lowest note: one octave below Middle C], and a Cello, [lowest note: two octaves below Middle C].

The string quartet has the interesting property that the four instruments sound almost just like each other; in fact, they're essentially four sizes of violins, with the larger ones sounding lower.  We call this character homogeneity; they blend together perfectly. 

Another group for which a lot of music is written is a wind quintet.  Music for a wind quintet sounds beautiful and balanced, but the balance doesn't come from the nature of the instruments.  A wind quintet consists of (typically a flute, an oboe, [lowest note Middle C in both cases], a clarinet, [lowest note B Flat, an octave and one more whole note below Middle C], a bassoon [lowest note: E Flat, a little less than two octaves below M. C.], and a French Horn, [wait, I have to look this up ... Lowest Note: Two octaves below M.C.].

The presence of the horn in the wind quintet is often a surprise for anyone learning about them for the first time.  I don't know the history of the situation, but I imagine that someone must have tried it, and it must have sounded satisfactory. 

Obviously, the Wind Quintet does not sound homogeneous by design, but they do sound wonderful.  There are certainly other combinations, for instance lots of combinations with pianos: the piano quintet, consisting of a piano and a string quartet; the piano trio, consisting of a piano, and violin, and a cello.

There are also many different Quintets, consisting of a String quartet, and one instrument not from the quartet, e.g. a Clarinet Quintet (string quartet + clarinet).

In earlier times—say before the 17th Century—small ensemble were assumed to consist instruments of the same family; for instance a recorder consort: which would consist of several recorders all of the same style.  There are bass recorders, tenor recorders, alto recorders, soprano recorders, and sopranino recorders.  Often they were sold in a matched set, in a special case with a place for each recorder. 

There were also what was known as a school of viols, consisting of viols of grades sizes, from a treble viol, down to a bass viol.

Recorder ensembles and Viol ensembles had extremely homogeneous sounds.  In early music, I suppose pieces written for them were monophonic; that moving from chord to chord, without the complexity of Baroque Music. 

Contorts with different sorts of instruments were called 'broken consorts'.  If a consort consisted all ofthe same type of instrument, they were called 'whole', or 'closed' consorts—at least, according to Wikipedia.

I'm sure that in earlier posts I have linked to examples of many kinds of small ensemble, but I could be wrong.  Someday, I hope to link to pieces for small ensembles on YouTube, and that would complete this post. 

Archie

Nutcracker Suite Item #2: March of the Toy Soldiers

As some of you might recall, I took up the Euphonium (actually just a Baritone, but Euphonium sounds so much more euphonious), and joined a special band for seniors.  It's an organization called New Horizons, which establishes these little bands in many towns, and teach an instrument for anyone who wants to join, and they play at nursing homes, and similar places, as a treat for the residents, and a treat for the players too. 

One of the pieces we're playing this season (Fall/Winter 2024) is the March from Tchaikowsky's Nutcracker.  The Ephonium is a tenor instrument.  Sometimes it plays an inner part—often an interesting one, a so-called counter-melody, which are so common in Souza marches.  Other times, we double the bass line (played by the Tubas).  I love it when we do that, because I love playing bass anyway. 

In the Nutcracker March, there are interesting passages, which you will recognize at once if you hear the March, e.g. via YouTube.  I really ought to insert here the music of a sample passage, but it isn't as easy to do using my phone as it used to be when I posted these things using my computer!

March of the Toy Soldiers [Tchaikowsky]

J.S.Bach, Benjamin Franklin, Near Contemporaries

JS Bach was born in 1685; Ben Franklin in 1706.  Franklin was younger by 21 years,  maybe more or less depending on the actual dates. 

Bach died in 1750, while Franklin died in 1790, 40 years later.  Franklin lived a lot longer, and a few years moor recently than Bach, but to me it's useful to think of them together, as I imagine their costumes, which were very similar, except that Franklin never wore a wig. 

Franklin is often described as a 'polymath', which is an old word that means 'a person with very diverse interests, skills and talents, what is also described as a Renaissance man.  About Bach, we don't really know; we do know he was interested in music, and theology, but apart from those subjects, we don't know much about him. 

We are told that he was interested in the design of organs; he was an excellent organist, and was hired as a consultant for at least one church that was having a new organ built. 

Music, at that time, was a broad area of interest; there was composition, in several different forms; Bach was a master of many of these, and the Oratorio form extended into the area of drama.  Bach could play almost any keyboard instrument, but also strings instruments: violin, viola, and very probably cello and double bass.  He knew the theory of oboes and bassoons, and probably trumpets and horns, and recorders.  Because of this wide range of expertise expected from a court musicians, there was very little time for one to explore other interests.  We know Bach had s limited interest in local politics, because it impinged on his management of a small court orchestra that was expected of him. 

Franklin was interested in writing, publishing, politics and political philosophy, he was an ambassador, he was involved in the independence movement, he was interested in science, and a host of other things.  I can't even imagine the two men meeting, or even whether they would have had a common language of discourse.  I can imagine that Franklin spoke French, having been the Ambassador to France.  We are not told whether Bach spoke any language other than Deutch, and read a little Latin.  And also perhaps a bit of Italian, because by Mozart's time many musicians could understand a little Italian.

Mozart, who was born two years after Bach died, could speak several languages fluently, certainly Italian.  Mozart's entire life was within Franklin's lifetime. 

Archie

Schubert

You might not know that (as far as I know, which is not a lot) both 'Schubert' and 'Schumann' mean 'Cobbler,' in German. It makes very little sense for me to bring that up, because very few of you younger people have had any experience with cobblers at all!

A few years ago, there was a hole in the sole of my shoe.  It was a pair of Clarks—or another make, equally good—and just on Market Street, a block and a half from my apartment, was a shoe repairman, or to call him by the traditional name of his profession, a cobbler.  To make a long story short, he said—from his point of view—the shoe was good enough to repair.  (A cheap pair would be thrown out and replaced, you see.)  It cost about $40, which I cheerfully paid.  A new pair would have been outside my budget.

By the time Schubert was born, the literal meaning of his family name would have had nothing to do with the occupation of the family, so the little anecdote is quite irrelevant.

Schubert composed lots of fabulous music, but the best known work is probably the famous  Unfinished Symphony, or Symphony no. 8 in B minor. 

The first item on my agenda is to get you listening to this symphony!  Schubert wrote lovely, melodic sonatas and songs, and piano pieces.  I'm ashamed to say that I'm not familiar at all with them!  But my parents—mostly my Dad—would put on the Unfinished, when I was in elementary school, and the tunes stuck with me. In fact, one time he participated in producing a play, about Elijah and the priests of Baal, and they used the Unfinished as incidental music.  Furthermore, our family music box was an old HMV phonograph, and the records were what are called '78s' these days; and only held about 10 minutes of music!  So Dad did a lot of changing discs.  (These were platters made of Bakelite, a very early kind of plastic.  Very soon, once LPs were invented, they (the LPs) were made out of Vinyl.)

Now, I don't know a lot about what was going on with Schubert while he was writing this Symphony; those sorts of details help many people to relate to a piece.  I'm just going to describe my own reactions to the first movement. 

It begins with the main theme played quietly—and ominously—deep in the bass.  Then some woodwinds (flutes, oboes, clarinets) enter, and things seem to be going swimmingly, until it's all Interrupted by some loud, full orchestra chords.

Don't get me wrong; the alternation of quiet passages and the loud chords is very musical; I can't describe it better than that.  In some works, it almost seems as if the loud interruptions are there solely for their shock value.  I don't think this is true ĥere.  It's almost as if Schubert had to have these loud punctuations exactly where he put them.  There's a lot of drama in the movement.  Maybe someone was teasing him about not being able to compose a dramatic Symphony!  Well, he certainly showed them.  The music sounds almost angry at times, and really serene at other times.  The serene parts are just fabulously lovely; perhaps they would not be as lovely if not for the contrast with the loud and noisy parts.  Stormy is the one word that describes this movement.  It ends with three huge crashing, angry, almost despairing chords. 

The second movement opens as though it was the sun rising after a huge thunderstorm.  (You can easily see why my dad and his friends chose this Symphony for their play!  For those not in the know, there was a weather competition, where stormy weather was involved.)  I'm going to stop there; you don't need Cliff Notes for this second movement.  This might not be good news, but: there are only two movements.  Most symphonies have four movements, this is why this work was nicknamed The Unfinished.  Lots of people agree, though, that it's perfectly fine the way it is.  So listen to it on your own, and take ownership of this wonderful, tuneful Symphony.

Maurice Ravel: Couperin Suite for Piano

Marice Ravel is one of my favorite composers.  I'm not so crazy about his works as to love every one of them.  (Bach is a favorite, too, but I don't love every piece by him, either; the same with Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms, Debussy, Wagner, and so on.  But with Ravel, I've liked everything from him I've heard so far.)

One of the earliest pieces of Ŕavel's that I learned to like was Pour le tombeau de Couperin, a collection of orchestral pieces, in celebration of the French composer Francois Couperin.  I have heard hardly any music by this older composer, but evidently Ravel admired him. 

The Tombeau that Ravel wrote, though, was fabulous.  In contrast to the music of Bach and Wagner that I liked as a teenager, that was filled with the exalted German harmony that was easy to love, Ravel's music was light, and full of fairy filigree!  You could imagine tiny fairy people dancing, skipping to this music. 

I then learned that the few orchestral pieces in the orchestral  Tombeau were an arrangement of an earlier piano work by Ravel, and that early version had more movements. 

That did make sense, because Couperin was a composer of keyboard works, harpsichord, and maybe piano.  I recently heard this piano (original) version, and I fell in love all over again. 

I urge my readers to listen to this work for themselves; skip over the movements that aren't to your liking.  There's nothing that says you have to like every movement of a multi-movement work.  Here's a link to the piece I was listening to:

Ravel: Le Tombeau de Couperin