Week Thirty-One: July 31
Three new pieces to start out August. I’ve noticed the past few weeks have been quite out of the ordinary in my life, putting into situations where I haven’t been able to listen to my music as often as usual, and leaving me less interested in the project. The other day, in fact, I began to wonder if it was something that I should just give up on. And then, while watching a new documentary on the Van Cliburn competition, I detected several of the pieces that were being played, and realized that this music is sinking in after all. No, with no accountability, as I’d have had if this were a college course, I will never be able to run needle-drop tests when I’m exposing myself to music this rapidly. But, that’s not the point, and that movie helped me to revalidate that.
As far as operas go, I feel as though there has been a lot of late 19th century Italian in this period of discovery, but that’s where so much of the classic repertoire lies, so be it. This period I’ll look at Verdi’s Aida, a work which I’ve had exposure to over the years, as have we all, but I’ve never sat down with the score, and dug deeper than the surface. We’ll change that now!
Update: I got a DVD of Pavarotti out of the library, and have had that on in the background this week. A lot standing around, this one.
I’ve chosen Poulenc’s Gloria in G for the choral piece and a recording from Boston University’s recent performance. I don’t believe I had any familiarity with the piece prior, but his Stabat Mater that I looked at during Lent had a lot of wonderful moments, and I expect the same from this piece.
Update: I think I’m coming to realize that I don’t need to beat myself up about not having time to learn all these pieces by heart, or to not click with each and every one of them, because there are times when a piece like this comes along, and I love it immensely. I’ve listened to it every day this week, and have practically committed it to memory. Some click, some don’t.
And, finally, on the one-week shot, I’ve got a piece that has very little information online (thus the lack of a score image), Carl Maria von Weber’s Grand Potpourri for Cello and Orchestra.
Update: This one didn’t strike me too much in its first week with me. It seems like a fine enough piece, but there’s just not a lot there to really get me excited.
Week Thirty-Two: August 7
This week I add to my library Tchaikovsky’s Serenade in C for String Orchestra. I didn’t know the piece before today, although it appeared on the roster of the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood last summer, and is still available in their online back catalog. I look forward to getting into it right now.
Update: Well, turns out I did know this piece, and was actually quite familiar with some parts, minus the name. But, it’s been fun to learn throughout the week. No worries.
Week Thirty-Three: August 14
This summer, Yo-Yo Ma came to Tanglewood for a performance of Strauss’ Don Quixote, which aired on our local radio station, and online. I’ve been listening to this piece this week. It’s been a lot of fun to hear. One thing that is unusual about it is that in its half-hour of variations, I can’t figure out what is being varied. Sure there is the familiar cello theme that enters here and there, but it seems to me that it is expanded upon much more than it is varied. Interestingly enough, I don’t believe I’d ever heard any of this lengthy piece before last week, and I’m curious if I’d heard it without knowing who had composed it, would I have detected that it was Strauss, based on its somewhat familiar style, after Year Three.
The choral piece I’m adding is from a recent performance of the Boston University ensembles, as were the previous two choral pieces in my list. It’s Charles Ives’ Psalm 90, and I haven’t really gotten into it yet. So, I don’t have a lot to say about it at this point.
Week Thirty-Four: August 21
This week, I’m finally going to start to learn the Bach Two-Part Inventions, pieces I would be intimately familiar with if I’d ever taken a piano lesson in my life. This past week, I got the score, and have begun to try to learn to play No. 1 in C. It’s so familiar, and so frustrating that I am not able to rip through it. I’m trying very hard to learn proper fingering and so on, my technique has never worried about such things, and I’m sure that has to do with the reasons that I’m generally slow to pick up piano music and play it properly. So, this is a fun, new exercise to play, and today I’ll begin to listen as well.
Update: I’ve been working on this first C-major invention throughout the week. I have an album of Bach’s motets on which the cover art is a person on a tight-rope. Unless you’ve tried to perform Bach, you may never understand that cover. The second I saw it, thinking from a choral standpoint, it instantly resonated with me. And I’ve envisioned that every time I’ve sat down at my keyboard to try out the invention. One false move and the whole thing comes apart. But, when you’re actually succeeding, and the fingerings are just right, it feels very much like walking on air high in the sky, always with that awareness that at any moment–
I’m also latching on to Massenet’s Manon. I’ve had a copy of the music for a long time, but haven’t gotten into listening to it. That’s about to change. I was inspired earlier in the year by it, but had just done Hoffmann and Carmen, and it seemed to soon to do more French grand opera. But now, we’ve rested a bit, and I’d say it’s time to explore!
Update: So, a week into this opera, I’m loving it. I haven’t been able to get a side-by-side French and English libretto, so it’s been hard to figure out what is going on, aside from a reference video I’ve been watching from the Met broadcasts a few years back. When I really sink my teeth into one of these operas, I like to pace myself over the three weeks, really understanding it piece by piece. This week I listened to act one many times, and just last night I added act two. At this rate, I may be on par to be completely aware of the full piece in another two weeks. At this point, I don’t even know how it turns out. I sure hope everything goes as well as it does in most operas. 🙂
Week Thirty-Five: August 28
It’s been a while since I’ve listened to a Schubert symphony. In fact, on being inspired by this summer’s Tanglewood roster, I had to check to see whether or not I’d done this piece in Year One, No. 4 in C minor, the “Tragic”. Looks like not. I’m sure it’s one of those that will be recognizable in places. This past week I realized that I have hit 200 pieces total since that first year. I reflected on it a while. What a great run it’s been.
Update: I’ve become quite familiar with this piece the past week, coming to enjoy it, and looking forward to future listenings and interpretations. As I was rummaging through online streams this week, I found another version just by chance. It’s probably been lurking in plain sight all these years, without me even knowing it.
Chorally speaking, I’ve been in a 20th century phase for several weeks now. I thought I’d dip back into some of the roots. I found a Palestrina mass on a Renaissance recording that I haven’t given much thought to aside from using it to create a playlist we use when we’re playing the medieval tile game Carcassonne. It’s the Missa Tu Es Petrus. I know it’s one that really serious polyphony experts are well-familiar with, but I’m about to learn it for the first time. I got the score, it should be fun to dust off my bass-listening skills in some dense six-part harmonies.
Update: It’s been a week now, and it feels like this mass has been a part of my musical vocabulary for years. There’s something about Palestrina that just immediately makes me feel at home.
Week Thirty-Six: September 4
One more week until I have a full new crop of pieces. This week, I’ve chosen Dvořák’s Symphonic Dances, Op. 46. I got the scores, and am listening now, I was surprised not to recognize the opening movement, figuring it would be one of those light classics you hear on your mom’s record collection when she’s trying to culture you. Maybe later. It always seems to me that there are many sides to Dvořák, from the dark, pensive moments, like I first came into contact through his Requiem to the fluffy, bombastic material like I’m hearing here in the opening dance. Between you and me, I hope these dances have more than their share of those dark, pensive moments, but I have a feeling I’ll be outvoted by the dancers of his day! (And then, just as I finished that sentence, here comes the Dumka, slightly familiar, but much more of the spirit that I look for in Dvořák.)