This week, I will look at Brahms’ Tragic Overture in D minor, op. 81. I had assumed that it would sound more familiar to me that it did upon my first listenings.
Brahms wrote both of his overtures, the Tragic and the Academic Festival in 1880, when he was halfway through his symphonic writing (having finished his second in 1877, with the third to follow in 1883). The Tragic is not meant to lead into any particular work, and has been frequently presented as the lead-in to longer works on symphonic concerts worldwide.
Impressions
Perhaps it is because I have spent so much time in the last few years experiencing grand, multi-movement Romantic music, that concert overtures have a bit of a way of feeling short to me now. The recording of the Tragic Overture that I am using clocks in at just over fourteen minutes, not “short”, yet it feels somewhat incomplete. My impressions may change over time, as I can’t quite put my finger on the conundrum yet.
From a form standpoint, this piece feels like an altered Sonata Allegro movement, with development happening at many points along the path. I have found an intriguing site which displays a near measure-by-measure interpretation of the work, which I look forward to reading more in the coming week.
This was the first piece that I have listened to with score since drafting and preaching the sermon which deals primarily with my experiences at treating score study as an active meditation. Because those thoughts were so fresh in my mind today, I made particular note of my thoughts and feelings toward the piece and toward my well-being as I listened. My mind wandered a few times, which is not unusual. Even during my most mindful times, it is very hard to completely dismiss myself from the truth that I am sitting at my place of business (albeit a few blocks down the street), and I still have an expectation to keep up with emails, expect calls on my cell phone, and so on. That being said, I found that the phenomena which I preached on, come even more easily and more inherently to me as the years guide me through this endeavor. I had mentioned yesterday about a “fuzzy glow” (for complete lack of a better term) that I feel when I begin to attempt to listen to all that the composer has laid out for me, a feeling which is all the more pronounced when, for a few measures at a time, I truly feel I am hearing dozens of parts operating independently at the same moment.
Ponder Points
There is one section of the piece that sounds like it was practically torn from Beethoven’s score for Symphony No. 7 in A, movement II. I’d like to do a side-by-side comparison for myself to see exactly what it is that makes the two seem so similar to me.