Putting The Class Back In Classical

What we’re listening to today

Ludwig van Beethoven .  What a name.  Long have I loved it, and how could you not?  With such constants strung together in euphoric sequence of German connotation…it positively oozes class.

If you were going to force me to sit down and pick a favorite composer, it would be Ludwig (and yes, I feel like I’m on a first name basis with the guy).  I discovered him while in the lap of my grandmother, and she handed me a fine porcelain doll.  Delight does not do to justice to what I felt with this doll.  She had perfect white skin, flowing chestnut hair, and a dress made of red velvet and trimmed with black fur.  Consider then, how ecstatic I was when I turned her over and found a small knob on her back.  My grandmother turned it a few times, and I was thus introduced to Für Elise.

I was consumed.

And so my affair began.  Perhaps he is my favorite because so much of his work was accessible to me.  I no longer felt as much melancholy for my piano lessons, because now I could study and play Beethoven.  I have a book full of Beethoven piano solos, and it’s been with me since I was 6 years old.  The binding has long since eroded, so really it’s more of a stack of loose and yellowed pages, scribbled with fingerings and notations about tempo, but I still take it out to play.

I’m not quite so clear on remembering when I first heard Symphony No. 6 in F.  Honestly, it could have very well been while watching Fantasia.  I would like to think my virgin experience was a little less Disney, but what can you do.

No matter what kind of day…what kind of mood…how absolutely desolate I am feeling…the Pastoral always speaks to a buried shred of joy, nurtures it, entices it, and raises it to pure euphoria.

I have grown out of Für Elise…but never the Pastoral.

It is because of this that my first post should be the Pastoral.  Not my first love, but certainly my oldest, and what could be a more fitting tribute to this glorious spring day?

Be sure to check my page about The Rules.  It’s important to really immerse yourself in the music.  It should wash over you and surround you, until you are aware of nothing else but the instruments speaking to you in divine harmony.  Only then can you really appreciate mastery.

So we begin…

1st Movement, Allegro ma non troppo

I think this is my favorite.  As a stand alone, there is not a sour motif in the whole 9+ minutes.  I am filled with visions of idyllic rural scenes.  It is a glorious day, and exuberance is felt by us all as we wake up to a fresh morning. 

This symphony certainly isn’t going to rewrite any rules about the hierarchy of the orchestra (we’ll get to those later), and while the strings start us out, they give a us a pleasant palette to introduce the reeds and flutes.  Do you hear that clarinet?  So simple, yet it skips along like a small child dancing among the wildflowers.  We continue to dance along, until we are treated with a deep and resonating announcement in the lower registers, as if to announce that we’re all awake and ready to play.

The clarinet, flute, and oboe continue to tease us throughout the piece.  I like to think of it as playing hide and seek with an especially cute but devilishly naughty child (kind of like my own ).  He dances around, popping up and teasing me with a smile, before darting back into the woods.

It’s the winding down of this piece that I love the most.  At about 7:20 into the piece, we have that impish little clarinet teasing us again, before we get a full-on repeat of the motif with the violins taking backseat to the cello and bass.  It’s regal and proud.  Listen to that and just try to not puff your chest out a little, as if you finally caught that rowdy little pixie.

All together, the orchestra sings it out.  The game of hide and seek is over, and we’re just glad to be one big happy family enjoying a fine day.

Right there at the end.  The cute little flute.  The oboe chimes in.  And a great big bear hug all together.

2nd Movement, Andante molto mosso

We begin with a simple theme played out on the strings.  The violins begin, and are answered by the reeds.  They call out to each with their happy song.  They twist and sing to each other, beckoning each other out to enjoy the fine day.  The tempo of this is notably slower than the first movement; we’ve had our picnic lunch and we’re sated with full tummies and good company.

But wait, here come the bassoons!  They want to play, too!  Ahhhh, and the cellos pipe in.  We’re all together now.  They converse with each other, as the motif is moved from section to section, varied by the flutes, before being tossed back to the bass clef to be punctuated.

We’re slowing down a little.  A solo flute twitters like a bird, calling out to an oboe.  It’s like a lazy midday when the sun is at it’s peak and resting in the grass is the order of business.  The reeds continue to flirt with each other, like finches dancing about a bath.

Here’s my favorite part.  At about 6:30 into the piece, the traveling notes that start low with the bassoons and move into the oboe and up into the strings, while the flute continues the motif about it all.  It only lasts about 20 seconds, but could very well be the most joyous 20 seconds I’ve ever heard.

Another of my favorites, at about 7:30.  The oboes sing a simple theme, but it’s twittered by the violins, while the cellos pipe in.  It builds, until the full orchestra comes together again, only to soften to a simple trill in the violins.  Yes, we’re too full.  We’re not ready to frolic yet.

9:00 in…we get a new twist on the motif.  The long sustained notes, with only the volume changing, is as moving as any melody.  It sets us up for an intriguing birdlike solo from the flute punctuated with the clarinet.  Wake up, they say to each other.  We’ve lallygagged enough.

Movement 3, Allegro

This is probably the most triumphant of the movements.  We’ve had our midday nap, and now we’re ready to party.

We have a new instrument in this movement, and it definitely adds to that fanfare sense.  The trumpet calls out at about :50 in. 

Did you hear the oboe laugh?  Magnificent.

And the horn!  The mellow brassiness of it is sooooooo smooth.

Ok, enough flirting guys.  Bring on the orchestra.  Let’s get this shindig started.

It it just me, or does this movement make you think of children dancing about a Maypole, with colorful ribbons in their hair?

Movement 4, Allegro

This one needs little explanation.  It’s commonly thought of as the rainstorm movement.  Lots of composers have written rainstorm pieces.  This is probably the most realistic one I’ve ever heard. 

You can hear the drops of rain in the violins, and the thunder in the bass clef.  The timpani just adds to the sense.  We can even hear the wind.  It’s absolutely spectacular.

And just like a typical afternoon spring storm, it’s violent but short.  Which leads us to…

Movement 5, Allegretto

Can’t you just hear the sun setting?  Our day has been fun and we’ve run the gambit.  The orchestra celebrates together the joy of the day, before individual instruments say their goodbyes to each other. 

But, just like my son, they loathe to say goodbye.  After all, they’ve had so much fun! 

We build again to a new crescendo, with an intriguing arpeggio in the lower strings, until they alone call out to the moon to rise.  The upper strings pick up the call, accentuated by reeds and horns.

For the last minute of the piece, we are tucked into our beds and we feel ourselves succumbing to sleep.

Amazing, isn’t it?  And to think, Ludwig was partially deaf when he wrote this.  Perhaps this is why I like it so much.  It’s clear to me that other senses were in play, because just hearing the music wasn’t enough for him.

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