BEWARE OF SPOILERS
The Banshee by Henry Cowell
Jane wakes up in the middle of the night to a sense of foreboding…
And then she hears the groaning, shrieks and creepy laughter of Mrs. Rochester as she sets her husband on fire.
Imagining books and music in quirky and creative ways
BEWARE OF SPOILERS
The Banshee by Henry Cowell
Jane wakes up in the middle of the night to a sense of foreboding…
And then she hears the groaning, shrieks and creepy laughter of Mrs. Rochester as she sets her husband on fire.
At last we come to the final movement. But first, let’s indulge in a quick recap:
So now we come to the fifth and final movement. What is Grieg going to leave us with? Continue reading “Classical Music Stories #1: Anna Karenina (Part 5)”
Holberg Suite, Op. 40: IV. Air (Andante religoso) by Edvard Grieg
Hold onto your hats, kids, because the hint of tragedy that was in the second movement is in full force now. We hear a pervasive hopelessness and what sounds like a struggle against something unchangeable (…hence the hopelessness). Plus, when the music comes back to repeat, it’s even sadder and more disillusioned, just like Anna after she gives birth to Vronsky’s child and thinks she’s dying.
(2:55) But then things become much more tender and hopeful (definitely a welcome surprise after all of this depressing music). It’s like when her husband, Alexei Alexandrovitch comes to visit her. Now that she’s sick he’s the only one Anna wants—the only one who can break her out of her own misery and self-pity (a.k.a. all the music up to this point).
(3:27) All of which leads quite Continue reading “Classical Music Stories #1: Anna Karenina (Part 4)”
Holberg Suite, Op. 40: III. Gavotte (Allegretto) by Edvard Grieg
General Story:
This movement sounds like a sophisticated, formal ball to me. I can just picture the nobility in their fancy suits and ball gowns as they dance the evening away.
(1:21) Then the music switches to two Continue reading “Classical Music Stories #1: Anna Karenina (Part 3)”
First, I forgot to mention something in my last post: the way I’m describing and “interpreting” the music should be understandable by anyone and everyone. You don’t have to know anything about classical music in order to “decode” the emotions or actions it’s communicating. That famous quote about music being a “universal language?” Well, there’s some truth to that.
There are, however, some requirements for understanding the music, which I will go into now:
Yup, that’s it. That’s all you need. You’ve been trained your whole life to recognize “happy” and “sad” music, and in general to connect certain types of music to certain types of feelings or actions.
Okay, time to get off my soap box and just tell you the story:
Holberg Suite, Op. 40: II. Sarabande (Andante) by Edvard Grieg
General Story:
The opening theme is so hopeful and beautiful (have I mentioned how much I LOVE this piece?)—it sounds like someone is daydreaming and/or in love.
(0:55) It’s not all daisies and sunshine, though. After all, if someone’s filled with hope then they Continue reading “Classical Music Stories #1: Anna Karenina (Part 2)”
I’ve dealt with this idea a little in previous posts, but now I want to address it head-on:
classical music tells a story.
It has characters and actions, plot twists and classic endings, heroes and villains. Of course, since music is so abstract it doesn’t tell a specific story (most of the time). But that doesn’t mean that you can’t use your imagination to hear one if you want to.
I think the simplest way to think about it is to imagine that the piece you’re listening to is actually the score of a movie adaptation of a book. I know, I know, books turned into movies aren’t always the best…but here’s your chance to do it correctly inside your head. Who would the characters be? What would they be doing? You’re basically Continue reading “Classical Music Stories #1: Anna Karenina (Part 1)”
John Cage’s Sonata 12 is what I imagine a child’s larks and a parent’s lullaby would sound like within George Orwell’s 1984.
What would it be like for a parent to sing his or her child to sleep, knowing that that same child will report him or her to the Thought Police at the slightest sign of dissension? What would it be like knowing that your own progeny would more likely than not send you to a swift and horrible death? It is incredible to imagine the mixture of parental love and crippling fear that must be felt for the tiny creature in such circumstances.
When I listen to Cage’s piece, I imagine the beginning and ending to present the parent who is watching his or her child play nearby. The music is playful and lilting as the child frolics around, but at the same time definitely unhinged because that innocence is a façade for something much darker. In the middle, the parent sings the child to sleep with a lullaby and gazes on his or her face that is made to appear so innocuous by sleep.
Can you hear it?