Tuesday Tones

I don’t know if this composer has ever been featured on this blog at all, either in this incarnation or in the Byzantium’s Shores era. So I’ve just done a search, and it turns out that not only have I not featured his music at all, but I’ve only even mentioned him twice.

So: enter Bohuslav Martinů.

Who?

Martinů was a Czech composer of the Modern era who lived 1890 to 1959. And he wrote a lot of music. Music poured out of the guy. Over a dozen operas and ballets each. Six symphonies. A ton of standalone orchestral music. Concertos. Chamber music. Keyboard music. Vocal music. About the only major genre of music that Martinů seems to have not made any contribution is sacred music.

And of all that music, I have heard just a tiny number of works. In fact, that number might now, with this post, stand at 2. I know I’ve heard his oratorio based on the Epic of Gilgamesh, and now I’ve heard The Parables, a suite for large orchestra. Martinů wrote The Parables late in his life. The work is in three movements:

  1. The Parable of a Sculpture (Andante pastorale)
  2. The Parable of a Garden (Poco moderato)
  3. The Parable of the Labyrinth (Poco allegro)

I have not been able to find a great deal of program information about The Parables, which I suppose is at least partly a function of the composer’s relative obscurity. Martinů may be experiencing an era of reassessment now, though, so maybe more will be forthcoming. I did find this brief passage:

The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca, H 352, and The Parables, H 367, represent the culmination of the late Neo-Impressionist orchestral output of Bohuslav Martinů, marked by a fantastic, kaleidoscopic style. Martinů transforms his extramusical (visual, literary) inspirations into the principles of musical forms, which are open to associations from mood setting to philosophical inquiries into the essence of human existence.

…

Martinů wrote the first two movements of The Parables in July 1957; he returned to the work after a break in early 1958 (completing the final, third movement on 8 February). The Parables were premiered in Boston on 13 February 1959 by Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The mottos of the first two movements of The Parables reference The Wisdom of the Sands (Citadelle) by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. For the third movement, Martinů created a motto from loosely associated excerpts from Georges Neveux’s play The Voyage of Theseus, which later provided the subject matter for the opera Ariadne, H 370 (1958). Although the music of The Parables relates to the mottos only abstractly or, in the case of the third movement, perhaps somewhat accidentally, these texts are nevertheless an integral part of The Parables.

That is helpful. I found Martinů’s musical language dreamy and evocative, lyrical at times and forcefully depictive in others. He seems to be writing in a vein that’s a blend of late Romanticism, Impressionism, and Modernism, which is a heady mix to be sure.

Here is The Parables by Bohuslav Martinů.

Share This Post

Something for Thursday

So for Tuesday Tones the other day, I went to feature a piece of music that I know I’ve featured here before but I couldn’t remember how long it’s been, so I looked it up. I featured it less than six months ago. So I chose something else.

Today I want to feature a piece of music I know I’ve featured here before, but I can’t remember how long it’s been. So I looked it up. Almost fifteen years.

Time is weird, y’all.

Anyway, here’s something I discovered after music camp one year. I was playing in the jazz band and we did a number by Chuck Mangione, called “Land of Make Believe”, and it was a really catchy tune, upbeat and happy with a relentless figure underneath it that will make only the deepest comatose people fail to react with toe-tapping glee. At that point I had heard the thing a number of times, always in the instrumental, but at the camp we included vocals. The lyrics at the time struck me as kind of syrupy and childish, but then our band director started pointing things out–the saxes quote “Old McDonald” here, the trombones quote “Farmer in the Dell” there–and gradually it started to make sense why this thing was so peppy and childlike.

Those actually aren’t bad things at all, unless you’re putting up a jaded front.

After the camp ended for that year, I embarked on a usual project of mine after a musical experience in which a new work captivated me: I sought out recordings of the pieces we had played, at least, the ones that I had particularly enjoyed. One was, indeed, “Land of Make Believe”, which I found on a Mangione compilation tape. (Yes, this was in the era of cassettes. Sue me!) But where the version we’d played at camp had been six minutes long or so, this one was over twelve minutes. It had a lot more vocals, it started with a long slow intro (the version we played started with the up tempo part), and it had more solo sections than the version we’d played (which only featured one solo, for trumpet/flugelhorn).

And there was more of those lyrics.

Here’s how it begins:

When you’re feelin’ down and out, wond’rin’ what this world’s about
I know a place that has the answer, it’s a place where no one dies
It’s a land where no one cries and good vibrations always greet you

How I love when my thoughts run to the Land Of Make Believe
Where ev’rything is fun forever
Children always gather ’round Mother Goose and all her rhyme
They fill the air with sounds of laughter

And another sample, farther in:

I once asked the Wizard of Oz for the secret of his land
Now just between us he said “Just take a look around here”
Seven Dwarfs and Little Boy Blue, Uncle Remus and Snow White too
Now just between us, that’s what’s known as integration

Silly? Sentimental? Simplistic?

Yeah, maybe. But if you want to illustrate for someone what the sentimental side of the 1970s was like, I think you can do a lot worse than play Chuck Mangione’s “Land of Make Believe” for them.

A note about this particular performance: it was recorded live, with Mangione and his band being backed by the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra (Hamilton, Ontario). Not only did you have Mangione and his own talented band on stage, but in the Hamilton Philharmonic at the time were five brass players who would go on to be the founding members of the Canadian Brass, one of the most famous chamber music groups in the world.

This is just over twelve minutes long, so give yourself some time…and give yourself permission to go where this music wants to take you. Here is Chuck Mangione (born in Rochester, NY!) and friends with “Land of Make Believe”.

Share This Post

Something for Thursday

For years I basically wanted nothing to do with Antonio Vivaldi. I have been coming around on him for a while now–maybe ten years?–so I’m happy to present this, which Roger helpfully shared with me. No, it’s not a “straight” performance of Vivaldi. Yes, it is a good performance of Vivaldi. Well, maybe it’s better to say it’s a good performance inspired by Vivaldi.

Share This Post

Tuesday Tones

First, watch this new video of mine, which explains why we’re featuring the work in the one below it:

Now, watch this. It’s good! I’ve never seen a performance like this before.

Share This Post

Something for Thursday

Last week we watched Say Anything, which has been one of my favorite movies ever since it hit me between the eyes when I saw it in spring 1989 when it came out. To this day I consider it the best teen romance ever filmed, and I don’t love it one bit less revisiting it now for the first time after quite a few years since the last time I watched it. Say Anything is one of those movies that creates its own world…I mean, sure, Seattle is a real place and all, but a world isn’t just the physical place. It’s the people who live there and the emotional fabric of the lives they lead. I would never want an actual sequel to this movie, but I do wonder whatever became of Lloyd Dobler and Diane Court.

This Peter Gabriel song was used to amazing effect in the movie…so much so that it’s hard to hear the song without picturing Lloyd and Diane in the backseat of his car, or Lloyd holding the boom box aloft. Here is “In Your Eyes”.

Share This Post

Tuesday Tones

Today, a piece I really don’t like. But it is one of the best-known pieces of classical music ever composed, and last week–on the 7th, actually–marked the 150th anniversary of the composer’s birth. And as performances of a piece I don’t like go, this one’s really very good, and the camera work in this video is pretty terrific.

So here is Bolero by Maurice Ravel. I’ll have more to say about Ravel in future weeks. For years I refused to give him much of a chance, because of how much I disliked Bolero. And yes, I’ve realized belatedly how unfair that was.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJVWEstu_lM

Share This Post

Op. 72

An offering for Roger! And what an Opus 72 it is. Actually, the entire opera is Beethoven’s Opus 72 (it’s the only opera he wrote), but we’ll just present the Overture here. The entire opera is well worth hearing, if you like opera or Beethoven. May Roger’s 73rd trip around the Sun be a good one!

Share This Post