music has an afterlife, creation, a hereafter; like echoes of a conversation -- anger, tears, or laughter -- i hear your music now, and think how strange is time and fortune to know you, and this place, are gone, but hear you sans distortion
(In memory of Roy Harris…)
I’m writing this on New Year’s Eve
And listening to string quartets
By Shostakovich, and
They’re awesome.
For, while life is full of messes,
Stains, and blotches — these, instead,
Are absolutely
Perfect.
And it makes
A nice contrast
Photo credit : ID 53562673 Ukrphoto | Dreamstime.com
As a teen,
classical music was
my greatest love,
my strongest passion —
But the business of it
was catty, and shallow, and
competitively spiteful:
all I cared about
was the music
So, I elected
to find another line of work,
choosing to continue to play music,
but not be in the grind of competitions
for scholarships, recital time, and so on
And, these days, if anything,
it has gotten worse.
The most beautiful, thoughtful
performances can be found on youtube,
where commenters savage the performers
with the type of criticism that makes you wonder
if almost anybody that listens to classical music
actually likes it
But then, i take a deep breath, and remember:
youtube comment-leavers do not represent all people,
they typically represent the worst type of people:
cowardly, petty, bitter, and unaccomplished, themselves
The wisest choice anyone can make
is to never read comments on youtube
So i listen to classical music,
and continue to explore and
learn to play various pieces:
exploring unknown repertoire,
and enjoying performances when i hear them
rather than criticizing them
I know the critical mindset:
it is simultaneously self-righteous about criticism
and unable to accept any aimed at them
But these are just shadows of joylessness,
and i can pass them by in silence
For the music is the thing,
And always was.
We will always have reactions to what we hear,
we just don’t need to spend so much time
convincing others to have the same one
Because that is monumentally
Foolish
always bringing joy,
and comfort –
and still here, always
(The below is a clip of me playing the last movement of a Haydn piano sonata, mistakes and all. – Owen)
I had an unfortunate visit today
Just as I had sat down to attempt to play
Some classical pieces I learned in my youth
A knock on the door came. And I said, “Forsooth!”
For it was a ghost of a peculiar stripe
The romantic germanic crotchety type
Who said that he’d heard (and I guess I will quote)
That I had just murdered a piece that he wrote
Just some Intermezzo. I thought it was fine.
When he looked at me with disgust, and said, “Nein!
Das ist nicht gut!” or some other such smack
To indicate I was a horrible hack
Which I guess is true. I can say without qualms
That I cannot blame the old ghost of J. Brahms
For coming down here and trying to save face
For playing his music sans notes and sans grace
For thirteen hours of music I will hear
I’m joyful beyond all my words to say;
Music by the great Henry Purcell
To be with me throughout a busy day
It consists of two albums off iTunes:
Chamber works and Theater works, complete —
Brilliantly played (and sung) in lavish style
And I have the whole playlist on repeat
To many this would not seem such a dream:
I know this, and I know it very well —
But to me, it’s as good as music gets
The florid rampant genius
That’s Purcell
My tastes have tended long to run
Towards the quite obscure:
In music and in painting and
In much of literature
It’s never really bothered me
Or, not enough to fuss:
That there are few I’ve ever found
To chat with or discuss
These things I love. For instance,
In his early college days
A. Copland wrote these four motets
In which there’s much to praise
Of sadnesss, yet of hope, and then
Of exultation, too:
I’m sure there’s some who would agree
If there were more
Who knew
(The first of the Four Motets, “Help Us, O Lord”, sung by the Chestnut Street Singers)
We all have our semi-secret, less-known personal favorites — a great B-side, an early work by an artist that later became famous, an obscure (but delicious) family recipe. Share one of your unsung heroes with us — how did you discover it? Why has it stayed off everyone’s radar?
