Continuing my exploration of queerness in music for this Pride Month, I turn to composer Wendy Carlos, a great transgender artist who is a notable late-20th century pioneer in electronic music. Carlos was born in 1939 as Walter Carlos, but after first experiencing gender dysphoria as a five-year-old, Carlos eventually underwent sex-reassignment surgery in the early 1970s.
In addition to her work in electronic music, Carlos also composed the scores for several notable films: Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange and The Shining, and the Disney “world inside the computer” classic TRON.
TRON was one of my first sources of exposure to electronic music. From the vantage point of over 40 years since the movie came out (40 years, OMG!), the score sounds dated in some ways, but entirely fresh in others. Carlos isn’t just interested in making weird noises with her synthesizers; she is a composer, we have to remind ourselves. There are melodies and recurring motifs and development. This score would not work if it was simply electronica for the sake of being electronica.
Any accounting of the greatest composers of the Baroque era would include, as a short list, the names of J.S. Bach, Alessandro Scarlatti, Antonio Vivaldi, and George Frideric Handel. We’re talking about Handel briefly today, partly because of his immense status in the history of music, and also partly because he may have been gay. Possibly. There is very little information about that to go on, but it is known that Handel was an enthusiastic member of several communities in his life where homosexuality was known and condoned. Is that enough to make any conclusion? Obviously not…but there does seem to be a high likelihood that many of our great musical masters–our great artistic masters, come to that–were queer in one way or another.
Handel is best known mainly for a few of his towering masterpieces–the oratorio Messiah, most importantly, and his Water Music and Music for the Royal Fireworks. But Handel was highly prolific, and also among his great works are his Concerto grossi. The concerto grosso is a form that arose during the Baroque era and then fell into disuse as other forms, like the symphony and the more familiar modern concerto, arose. A concerto grosso features a group of soloists engaging in musical interplay with a larger orchestra. Handel was a master of the form, composing eighteen concerto grossi over his lifetime. Here is the first in a group of concerto grossi that was later organized as Handel’s Op. 6, numbered 319-330 in the HWV numbering of all Handel’s works. (The numbering of composers’ works can be a surprisingly messy affair.)
Today begins Pride Month, so let’s listen to some Tchaikovsky.
It is not actually conclusively known if Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky was gay or not, but most biographers and historians have concluded, from the nature and the durations of the various relationships in his life, that he was. Sadly, late 19th-century Imperial Russia was not a good time for being homosexual, and it’s certainly known that Tchaikovsky, for all his artistic success, struggled for all of his 53 years through a life full of melancholy, loneliness, and outright depression. He married once, and it was a calamity that was annulled within just a few months. Most of the important relationships in his life were with men, though the nature of those relationships can only be guessed at from the contents of letters and contemporary accounts, many of which were suppressed by various Russian and later Soviet governments. Even in death, Tchaikovsky has been forced into a closeted existence.
Tchaikovsky’s death itself may, or may not, have arisen from his tortured melancholia. The facts seem to be that, in the midst of a cholera epidemic, Tchaikovsky went out with some friends and at some point drank unboiled water. He was dead of cholera just days later…at least, as far as the official accounting of his passing goes. Some wonder if he drank the unboiled water intentionally, or if he actually purposely poisoned himself in an act of suicide. The truth of this will never be known, either. It does seem to be the case that Tchaikovsky’s sad life is an artifact of a time when queerness was held in contempt and disdain. Have we made progress? Yes. Have we made enough? Oh, most certainly not.
But at least Tchaikovsky’s music remains! Here is his Symphony No. 5, my favorite of his six symphonies, with its stormy first movement, its stunningly meditative and heartbreaking second, its graceful third, and its epic finale that in the end feels like sun breaking through clouds. This performance isn’t the best sonically, but the quality of the playing (by the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Tanglewood in 1974) and the interpretation (by conductor Leonard Bernstein) is simply amazing. Of course, Bernstein himself was a figure whose sexuality has been the subject of much speculation…but that’s another post.
In amongst my various reading activities, I have a couple of longer reading projects going on. One is a complete re-read of Guy Gavriel Kay’s books, and the other is a partial re-read, coupled with first-time reads, of Ian Fleming’s James Bond books. I call the Fleming a partial re-read because going into this project, I had only actually read about half of his Bond material, up to (and including) Dr. No. Now I am onto books I haven’t read, and the one I’m reading now is For Your Eyes Only, which is not a novel at all but a collection of short stories, including two that form the backbone material for the eventual film of the same name.
Which, by the way, happens to contain one of my favorite Bond songs ever. And here it is!
Today, a concerto: specifically, a trumpet concerto. This one was written by the great film composer John Williams, who has somehow over his incredibly busy years of scoring many films and maintaining a hectic conducting schedule managed to find time to compose concert works as well. The man is amazing. He just is!
This concerto is a strikingly dramatic work in a modernistic vein, and as is often the case with Williams’s concert works, the piece doesn’t have the ear-catching melodies that are almost always present in his film scores. This is not a criticism. In his concert music, Williams tends to let melody be more of an emergent thing than an obvious one; there is usually an improvisatory air to his concert music, which may spring from his days as a jazz pianist and a session musician before he fully transitioned to the life of a composer.
Williams’s Trumpet Concerto was written in 1996 for The Cleveland Orchestra and its principal trumpet, Michael Sachs. The work was premiered by Sachs and The Cleveland Orchestra on September 26, 1996, under the direction of then-Music Director Christoph von Dohnanyi. The debut of this significant addition to the trumpet repertoire garnered praise from the local press, with Donald Rosenberg of the Cleveland Plain Dealer noting the concerto’s “dignified personality, soloistic variety and orchestral color.”
Here is the Concerto for Trumpet and Orchestra by John Williams. No Haydn concerto this, with a calm classical intro! The soloist is the first thing you hear, in starkly dramatic fashion.
I first heard this song when I first watched The Big Lebowski a number of years ago. I remember looking the song up and being surprised to learn that it was a Kenny Rogers song. It was recorded first by Jerry Lee Lewis, but later Rogers and his band the First Edition recorded it, in 1967. It’s barely recognizable as Kenny Rogers, actually: I’ve listened to this song a lot and I’ve found no hint of the guy who would later become a solo country act and sing about “The Gambler” and “Lucille”. It’s amazing how things can change, isn’t it?
Igor Stravinsky is not a composer i know terribly well, and honestly, that bothers me a bit. More than a bit, really. Stravinsky is considered to be the major bridge composer between the Romantic era and the Modern one. His art has its roots in the 19th century, but most of his work is fully conceived in the 20th, but it’s not generally as hard to crack, in my experience, as is the work of other Modernists like, say, Schoenberg, Berg, and later avant garde voices like Cage. Stravinsky worked in recognizable forms, for the most part, and his ballet music–perhaps his most famous and familiar works–represent some of the most starkly dramatic work for stage dance ever written. The Rite of Spring actually provoked a riot at its premiere, so there’s that.
Written for a ballet that was in turn based on Russian mythology and legend, The Firebird is one of Stravinsky’s most enduringly popular works. It comes fairly early in his career, and thus he was only just starting his life-long evolution into full-on Modernism. (Born in 1882, Stravinsky died roughly five months before I was born in 1971!) The Firebird tells its story with startlingly evocative orchestral writing, and it is by turns exotic and suggestive, weaving a spell with sonic imagery that borders on the purely impressionistic. While I don’t know Stravinsky well as a whole, The Firebird has endured in the repertoire for a reason.
Also popular is one of the three shorter orchestral suites Stravinsky culled from the pages of the entire ballet. This suite, the middle of the three, was put together by Stravinsky in 1919, and despite his later insistence that the score was riddled with errors, it it the 1919 suite that has endured of the three suites he created from the entire ballet. I do recommend the entire ballet; it’s only about 45 minutes long, which does make me wonder why Stravinsky felt the need for abridgements at all.
Some of the moodier music in The Firebird would later serve as partial inspiration for composer Cliff Eidelman, when he was tapped to score Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.
Anyway, one stalwart conversation starter that comes around social media with amazing regularity is naming one’s favorite cover song, or naming a cover song that’s better than the original. This one most definitely fills the bill for the former, in my eyes. I do not grant that it fills the latter…but this one is so good because it does something so amazing with the original, that there’s no need for this cover song to supplant the original at all.
So here, from the 1980s, are Rod Stewart and Jeff Beck covering Curtis Mayfield’s “People Get Ready”.
Wind ensemble music today, by prolific composer David R. Holsinger. My band director in college formed quite a fascination with Holsinger’s work and programmed something by him each of the years I was there. I don’t think this was one of the pieces, but some of his works are long and complex and involved and I want to give some of those another listen before I feature them here. This shorter piece is titled On an American Spiritual, and it starts off the way one would expect such a piece to start…but then it takes some unexpected turns on the way to its conclusion. Interesting piece!
I wrote yesterday about how we attended the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra’s performance to film of the score to Raiders of the Lost Ark, and I noted how impressed I was with the orchestra’s technical precision during the action cues, particularly the Desert Chase sequence, which is an extremely complex and long cue. So I figured today, why not present the actual cue as originally recorded for the film by the London Symphony Orchestra in 1981?
I thought about giving a blow-by-blow accounting of what is happening throughout this entire sequence with the timings, but I decided not to. Instead, note the structure of the cue itself: it starts with the establishing shots of the bad guys and their truck caravan heading out, and then we get some suspense music as Indy and friends watch all this and Indy hatches his plan. Then, it’s all action, all the way out. There’s a lot of back-and-forth action as Indy works to take control of the truck and dispose of the rest of the Nazis, but then there’s a long section of building tension as it looks as if Indy is really about to fail (and die in the process). It’s really an amazing cue from a compositional standpoint; Williams deploys his themes throughout in a way that really works. Too much action music in films is basically unmelodic rhythmic pounding. “The Desert Chase” is very much not that. Enjoy!
