5 reasons why classical music should be part of your music diet

Article in Lifehack - 5 reasons why classical music should be part of your music diet

Universal Treasures

Music is ubiquitous. It accompanies the celebration of a baptism, a birthday, a wedding, an anniversary, a march into battle. It also sustains us as we grieve at funerals. And beyond the decisive moments, music is also with us in the everyday moments. It is part of worship in churches, mosques and temples. It is the lifeblood of a carnival, it is that ‘very personal’ song between lovers, it is the throbbing beat from spectators at a sporting event, the anthem we sing, the background score to the films we watch, the insidious, and sometimes, irritating ambient tracks in a lift or lobby, the live music in a concert hall, at a party or from a busker on the street, the bedtime song we sing our children, the whistling in the dark, the singing in the shower, the aerobics accompaniment, on the car radio, on home stereos, on personal headphones; in fact you can think of hundreds of different scenarios where music is part of our lives.

Music is also universal in that in some form or the other, it is created, performed and enjoyed across races and cultures. Afro, bhangra, bel canto, boogie, bolero, calypso, carnatic, celtic, cha-cha, flamenco, ghazal, hillybilly, hindustani, jazz, polka, qawwali, rumba, salsa, samba, swing…the exercise of simply listing out some music styles throws up a rainbow of impressions of each culture and geography that gave birth to each of these genres.

Researchers from McGill University and University of Montreal in Canada and Technische Universität Berlin in Germany played specific musical compositions to two extremely different groups - first, to forty Mebenzélé Pygmies in the Congolese rainforest and second to forty Canadians. The findings (published in the journal 'Frontiers in Psychology', 07 January 2015) showed that the music (including both western pieces and Mbenzélé melodies) elicited similar types of responses in both groups for key musical characteristics such as tempo, pitch and timbre.

If I were to briefly list a few of the memorable moments in cinema that I recall involving some form of appreciation of music, it becomes clear to me that art is indeed a universal language:

In ‘The Mission’, Father Gabriel (Jeremy Irons) scales the mighty Iguazu Falls in South America and, reaching the jungle above the Falls, he sits down and plays his oboe. The fearsome Guarani warriors who emerge from the jungle, ready to strike down the intruder, are instinctively captivated by the music and let him live.

In ‘The Shawshank Redemption’, prison inmate Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) (wrongly convicted of murder and serving time at Shawshank State Penitentiary, managed by a cold and brutal warden) does the unexpected when he locks himself in the room in which the warden’s LP record player is located. He then plays a recording of Mozart's ‘Le nozze di Figaro’ over the prison P.A. system. In a prison where not even basic human rights are honoured, the divine music wafting out to all the prisoners is a lifeline for many (although it results in Andy being mercilessly beaten by the prison guards after they break down the locked door).

In 'The Prince of Tides', football coach, Tom Wingo (Nick Nolte) is saying his farewell to the young violinist and football beginner, Bernard Woodruff (Jason Gould) at the train station. He makes a final request to the boy before the train arrives. He asks him to play the violin for him. The boy promptly opens his violin case, takes up his violin and plays with astounding passion and artistry in the midst of the bustling station. The coach is moved and says something to the effect that if he could play the violin like that, he would never touch a football.

In the end, when we respond instinctively to music, we are giving ourselves the opportunity of shared experiences with people who we may never have engaged with otherwise. This video of two strangers improvising together on a piano at a train station in France reiterates this truth in a disarmingly effective manner. Enjoy!

5 Inspiring Examples of Art for Real Social Change

Much has been said about art being an indulgence that only the very rich can take advantage of. But here are five examples of artists leveraging their art to make a decisive difference in the lives of communities without the means.

Alejandro Aravena: My architectural philosophy? Bring the community into the process

The El Sistema music revolution - Jose Antonio Abreu

Haas&Hahn: How painting can transform communities

Theaster Gates: How to revive a neighborhood: with imagination, beauty and art

eL Seed: Street art with a message of hope and peace

Beethoven

Beethoven

Acrylic on Canvass

Beethoven on Music -

Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.

Music is mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life.

Music is the one incorporeal entrance into the higher world of knowledge which comprehends mankind but which mankind cannot comprehend.

Beyond the here and now - The long term future of classical music

Article to kick-start 2014 on Art News Portal

With the beginning of each new year, the art and entertainment media is hit by a surfeit of predictions detailing new challenges that will confront the classical music industry over the course of the year. While the near-term outlook is critical, sometimes it helps to pause and take a more long-term view of what is round the bend. More...

What happens when you tell Bach that a violin has its limitations!

The facts are these: When Bach was composing his Partita in D minor for solo violin (BWV 1004), he created a concluding movement called the Chaconne (an old, slow and stately dance form) which lasts longer than the collective duration of all the preceding four movements in the Partita.

A type of theme and variations, Bach opens the Chaconne with a four-measure theme and that same theme is incessantly changed, transformed and transfigured throughout the entire 13 to 15 minutes of the piece, without any literal repetition. And mind you, (1) all the variations remain four measures long and (2) there are no other resources on hand to hold the listener’s attention but those four strings of the violin.

Johannes Brahms, in a letter to Clara Schumann, said about the Chaconne: “On one stave, for a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I imagined that I could have created, even conceived the piece, I am quite certain that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience would have driven me out of my mind.”

Yehudi Menuhin called it the "greatest structure for solo violin that exists" In fact one of Menuhin's childhood dreams was "that peace might be visited upon the earth if I could only play the Bach Chaconne well enough in the Sistine Chapel."

On the emotive scale, its yearning theme is able to transport the listener to places and feelings, worlds and worldviews never before experienced. In terms of form, the grandeur of design and the strength of its structure leave you marveling at the ambition with which Bach conceived it. It is almost as if Bach, himself a decent violinist, having heard the best compositions and performances for unaccompanied violin of the day, decided to show composers and players exactly how it ought to be done and what the possibilities were. Technically, the piece is tremendously formidable even for the most dexterous of violin virtuosos. Musically and spiritually, it is unsurpassed in the entire violin repertoire.

The theme is varied through ingenious elaboration, inversions, fragmentation, transposition, time diminution, implied counterpoint (a suggestion of 2, 3 and 4-part counterpoint with the single violin!), scale modulation and much more. And yet, the result is a coherent whole. In fact, the testament to the breadth and richness of this work is the number of successful transcriptions of this same work for multi-voice instruments such as the piano and organ and ensembles such as the full orchestra.

Paradoxically, the first recording I heard of the Chaconne was not in its original form for solo violin, but rather in a version of Stokowski's famous orchestral transcription. I have over the years listened to different legendary recordings of this piece; the most memorable being those by Nathan Milstein, Henryk Szeryng and Yehudi Menuhin. And among the virtuoso's of today, the best rendition to my ears has been that of the young American violinist Hilary Hahn.

Personal Notes: The Beethoven Violin Concerto

There is so much of available literature (in books, reviews and articles) on this piece that I thought I would share instead my personal experience with the Beethoven violin concerto.

I do not remember the year or the month or the day that I first heard this concerto, but I do remember the circumstances. I did come to this piece late (in my early 20s). My violin teacher at the time was Fredrick Mendahna, who hailed from Goa (a city made famous by Portuguese occupation; on the west coast of India). A retired grandfather he may have been, but his playing had all the punch and verve you would expect in a young violinist. Classes were in his apartment.

On one occasion I had arrived early and was limbering up as he finished his meal in the next room. I played a very impassioned but dreadful rendition of Beethoven’s Largo from his Triple Concerto. Mendahna came out as soon as I finished and while he could not have been impressed with my audacity at taking on a masterpiece like that, he did see that I was extremely fired up with Beethoven.

Instead of heading for his violin to commence class, he went to his album collection and pulled out a recording of the Beethoven Violin Concerto by Yehudi Menuhin (with the great Otto Klemperer as conductor). He loaned it to me for a few weeks.

I came home that day and listened to the LP on an old mono LP player (our stereo system was in need of repair at that point). I listened to it many more times in the weeks that followed.

The music threw me! The majesty and beauty of that first movement, the sublime Largehetto and the rousing final movement…it was all beyond the most beautiful I had heard at any time before (of course, I had not yet heard the last string quartets or the last piano sonatas or the Missa Solemnis; and those make up another story!).

My father, who until then enjoyed listening to the Beethoven Triple Concerto more than any other concerto, on listening to the first few minutes of the violin concerto, could not help but wax lyrical and call the music nothing short of “divine”.

Those days of first discovery of this treasure will remain imbued in my memory as golden days; days sanctified by Beethoven, Menuhin and Klemperer reaching me across the divide of time and space and filling my heart with a sunlit serenity that I have always been able to bring back with each repeat listening. To those ‘touched’ by this masterpiece, it may not be difficult to understand it when I say that the Larghetto has cast its warmth and light on many a dark moment and I invariably come out of its exalted air feeling with certainty that life is nothing but beautiful.

While the Brahms violin concerto may be more difficult and Mendelssohn’s may be more violinistic, the Beethoven is by all accounts the summit of the violin concerto repertoire. I have since then heard recordings of this concerto by Josef Suk, Wolfgang Schneiderhan, Jascha Heifetz, Maxim Vengerov, Anne Sophie Mutter, Joshua Bell and countless others; but none have approached the radiance and power of that first recording I heard (including, in my estimate, Menuhin’s own earlier recording with Furtwangler).

Have you a story to tell on the Beethoven violin concerto?

Politics and Music: Examples in Counterpoint

On 26th April 2009, Polish pianist Krystian Zimerman, among the most respected of performing piano virtuosos globally, interrupted his recital at Disney Hall, Los Angeles, to announce that it would be his last performance in the United States - in protest against America's military policy overseas. "Get your hands off my country," Zimerman said. And when some in the audience decided to walk out on hearing his outburst, he commented wryly “Yes, some people, when they hear the word military, start marching."

While American foreign policy is keenly debated in all places and at all times (and its not surprising when Poland is the topic, given that there is speculation that the CIA held suspected terrorists in secret prisons in Poland and the U.S. Government have missile-defence projects in the pipeline on Polish soil); what shocked the audience and the world was the pointed remonstration coming from a classical pianist.

But before you get into the question of should music be political or should musicians venture into political debates, it is sobering to consider that Zimerman was doing what came naturally to many great classical musicians.

In the 1970s, legendary Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich publicly stood by his friend the author Alexander Solzhenitsyn after the famed writer was banned and eventually exiled by the Soviet regime. In fact, for years Rostropovich sheltered the harassed writer in his own home. Rostropovich himself was eventually stripped of Soviet citizenship. Years later, in 1989, when the Berlin Wall fell, one of those indelible images that flashed across the world was that of this master cellist's impromptu playing of a Bach cello suite at Checkpoint Charlie (the famed crossing point between East Berlin and West Berlin during the Cold War, once divided by the Berlin Wall).

Rostropovich was, in more ways than one, the true successor of that other great cellist, Pablo Casals. Casals too, faced much hardship for his political views. In fact, such was the strength of his convictions that after the Spanish Civil War in 1939, he vowed not to return to his home country Spain until democracy was restored.

After the Second World War, Jewish violinist Yehudi Menuhin incurred the wrath of his fellow Jews and Americans by openly supporting and in fact performing and recording with the great conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler (who was at that time under a cloud for having chosen to stay in Nazi Germany during the war as a high-profile conductor; although he never did join the Nazi Party, nor did he support their views. In fact he used his influence to help Jewish musicians escape Nazi forces). Years later in 1991, when Menuhin was awarded the Wolf Prize by the Israeli Government, he used his acceptance speech to actually condemn Israel's continued occupation of the West Bank.

In 1999, pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim founded the West-Eastern Divan Workshop and Orchestra, which did what generations have failed to do - bring young Palestinians and Israelis together; through the bond of music-making.

To listeners who come to music only for music’s sake, the extra-musical baggage of such political stances seem more a case of the musician exceeding his brief.

To listeners who see music as an expression, not only of timeless values, but also rooted in the cut and thrust of everyday living, political views from musicians enrich debate and help throw the spotlight on issues and concerns that affect us all. And in the end, their forays into political debate show musicians as being not merely perfectionist virtuosos, but also as full-blooded human beings with beliefs that need a voice beyond the notes.

Music sans biography

The implication in my last post “Master Composers – Dysfunctional Men!” is that the music and the life of the composer could in effect be unrelated.

It is true that experiences shape a person’s thinking and circumstances can impact one's outlook on life. It is true that personal tragedy has inspired some composers to pen the most beautiful expressions of grief in music. It is true that a hopeless situation can see despair seep into the score of some composers. Or joy and humour might find its way into the notes of a composer on a career ‘high’. But the opposite is also equally (and fascinatingly) true.

In the last year of Mozart’s life, he could have been forgiven if despair found its way into his music. He was in desperate financial straits. His concerts were no longer as popular as they had been. He had difficulty finding music students to tutor. And his health was deteriorating. But one has to only listen to his serene last piano concerto (No. 27 in B-flat major K595) or his sunny Clarinet Concerto (in A major K 622) – both composed in that last year – to see how unsullied and exalted he could keep his music despite the cares of everyday living.

Thank God for such incongruence! And thank God for such a musical legacy!

Master Composers - Dysfunctional Men!

Staying with the same topic of the 'G' in music from my last post, there is sometimes an obvious question that could be asked: If music can have such a redeeming influence on man, what explains the clearly dysfunctional lives of many of the great composers and (to extend that further) even some of the great performers of music?

Beethoven confessed that he was misanthropic. Brahms was a recluse. Tchaikovsky contended with frequent bouts of severe depression throughout his life. Schumann went insane and committed suicide.

The explanation that works for me is this: Firstly, God uses 'imperfect vessels' to do His work. That applies not only to leaders and saints, but also to composers, painters, sculptors; in fact to everybody.

That explains the dichotomy of Beethoven’s radiant and mystical Missa Solemnis and his actual double-dealing with several publishers to get this work published for the highest returns. That explains how Wagner could compose some of the most stirring music ever penned and yet be a confirmed anti-Semitic in not only his own beliefs but also in his published writings. That explains how Mozart’s music has a purity far removed from the frequent vulgar jokes that punctuate his many letters.

Secondly, the process of creation (for the composer) or re-creation (for the performer) demands infinitely more from the individual than the process of listening. It is almost as if some of the great composers gave everything they had emotionally, intellectually and sometimes spiritually to their music, that they (and unfortunately those around them, including close family and friends) were left with only the ‘leftovers’.

Finally, it is often the case that composers communicate more intuitively through their music than through social interactions or the written or spoken word. In that sense, their actual self comes out best through their works and 'says' more about them than what they say or do outside of music. It is almost like parallel universes - the mystic reality of the process of composition and the mundane reality of everyday living!

The ‘G’ in ‘Music’

We live in an age of extreme political correctness and expressed belief in God is considered ‘uncool’.

For the classical music fan though, God is a recurring theme. Not just in the masses and requiems, the cantatas and chants. But also in so many of the so-called secular works that express a spirituality and a ‘God encounter’ as intensely as any obvious scared masterpiece.

This may in part be explained by the commonly held belief amongst many great composers that their inspiration came from a divine source.

Bach was known to initial blank manuscript pages with the letters ‘INJ’ (‘In Nomine Jesu’ or ‘In the Name of Jesus’). It was almost his unsaid prayer for inspiration and his way of sanctifying his every composition. Taking another example, Haydn was known to write the phrase "Praise to God" at the end of completed scores. Elaborating on the arduous gestation of his great oratorio 'The Creation', Haydn said "I fell on my knees each day and begged God to give me the strength to finish the work."

Apart from the conviction that God (to borrow an expression from Aquinas) was “the first cause” (in this case) of music, many composers also felt that music was the purest tongue in which to communicate with and about God. This again is not difficult to accept when we realize that music is perhaps the most elusive of all art forms and it is precisely because of this formlessness that music can be used intuitively to express the inexpressible. The great conductor Leonard Bernstein said it simply: “Music can name the unnameable and communicate the unknowable.”

Do you see the ‘G’ in ‘music’? Which particular composer or composition has spoken of God the most compellingly to you?

This Month in History (April 1759): Handel is dead

This month the world commemorates the 250th anniversary of Handel’s death.

Born in Halle, Germany, George Frideric Handel enjoyed a successful career in Italy and eventually spent most of his creative life in London. For eight years before he died, Handel contended with a steady deterioration in his eyesight which eventually led to blindness.

Among his many masterpieces are the oratorios the Messiah, Saul, Israel in Egypt, Samson, Judas Maccabaeus and Solomon, operas such as Rinaldo and Xerxes, the Concerto Grossi (Opus 3 and Opus 6), the “Water Music” and the “Music for the Royal Fireworks”.

His anthem “Zadok the Priest” (composed for the coronation of King George II in 1727) has since been performed at every coronation of a British monarch.

His most famous work, and one of the most revered compositions of English sacred music, the Messiah, was written in a mind-boggling surge of creativity across a mere 24 days!

Among the earliest known recordings of classical music (on Edison's phonograph) are excerpts of Handel’s “Israel in Egypt”.

Mozart once said "Handel understands effect better than any of us. When he chooses, he strikes like a thunder bolt.”

Another ardent admirer, Beethoven is known to have remarked of Handel: "Go to him to learn how to achieve great effects, by such simple means." And on another occasion, he remarked “I would bare my head and kneel at his grave."

But certainly the best tribute to Handel came from his greatest contemporary, Johann Sebastian Bach who said: "Handel "is the only person I would wish to see before I die, and the only person I would wish to be, were I not Bach".

This Month in History (March 1685): Bach is born

Perhaps the most underrated of composers ever (during his own lifetime), Johann Sebastian Bach was born in Eisenach, Germany on 21st March 1685.

Known more for his virtuosity as an organist during his lifetime and for around eight decades after he died, Bach was later hailed by Richard Wagner as “the most stupendous miracle in all music.”

Supreme as a composer of counterpoint, master of virtually every form in classical music except opera, Bach created his music at all times to fulfill that one objective so beautifully summed up by the Jesuit motto, “for the greater glory of God.”

Beethoven was so moved by his work as to say that ‘Bach’ (the name means ‘brook’) should have been named the ‘sea’ instead.

Johannes Brahms exhorted: "Study Bach, there you will find everything."

Robert Schumann once said “Music owes as much to Bach as religion to its founder."

Debussy referred to him as "a benevolent god to which all musicians should offer a prayer to defend themselves against mediocrity."

Three of the 27 recordings chosen for the Voyager Golden Record (sounds and images selected to represent mankind and intended for extra-terrestrial life; played on the Voyager spacecraft) are compositions by Bach; the most by any composer.

Some of his major works - the Mass in B Minor, the St. Matthew Passion, the St. John Passion, The Art of Fugue, the Goldberg Variations, the Well-Tempered Clavier, The Musical Offering, the Brandenburg concertos, the Sonatas and Partitas for violin solo, the Cello Suites and a wide range of sublime cantatas.

“To strip human nature until its divine attributes are made clear, to inform ordinary activities with spiritual fervor, to give wings of eternity to that which is most ephemeral; to make divine things human and human things divine; such is Bach, the greatest and purest moment in music of all time.”
- Pablo Casals

The Case For “Crossover Classical”

My previous post – The Case Against "Crossover Classical" presented one side to the argument.

Here below is the other:

“Enter through their door so that you may leave through yours”: St. Ignatius of Loyola knew what he was talking about when he propounded that maxim which remains valid for almost any marketing activity today. For a time-poor generation, what could be better than to condense the format of the typical classical music piece into something that is more easily digestible; both in duration and in content.

After all, Twenty20 cricket, while not being the summit of cricket that the longer version (Test Cricket) is, does have a large and enthusiastic following and a clear case for its own existence. Some might argue it is more a business case than a case built on a specific sporting need. But many people derive as much pleasure from the frenetic and powerful slogging that Twenty20 is famed for, as others would do from the patience, artistry and control of the crease that is required for building a mighty test century. The fact is that people have less time for leisure, more competing options for entertainment and shorter attention-spans than ever before. So, if a melody from a crossover album can engage and enthrall a listener, then why not!

It just might be that that particular listener may never set aside the time to hear the full 40-60 minute symphony from which that melody was extracted. And then again, it just might be that our listener may be so enthralled that he or she digs deeper and finds and buys the album of the full piece, spends the extra time, gives that extra attention and so begins to appreciate that piece in all its original glory. Admittedly, crossover artists, who claim that they are on a mission to bring classical music to the masses, may not always be looking beyond what it takes to become a best-seller. But it surely does not hurt that millions of football fans now know and hum the melody to Nessun Dorma.

Crossover is not a new phenomenon: Much of the suspicion and contempt for crossover music appears to stem from some mistaken belief that it is some new and virulent virus that has appeared from nowhere and without precedent. Critics of crossover music tend to forget that there has always been a crossover category (although without the name). In the 1950s, tenor Mario Lanza personified the spirit of “crossover” and reached the top of the Billboard pop charts in America. In the 1960s, German arranger James Last was churning out ebullient renditions of classical melodies under the series of releases titled ‘Classics Up To Date’. In the 1970s, American instrumental rock band ‘The Ventures’ were playing Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, Bach’s ‘Jesu Joy Of Man's Desiring’ and Ravel's Pavane. All this, long before the Three Tenors became a global megabrand! So, it appears that such music has always met an unmet need and thrived as a result. The fact that pure classical music recordings are displaced to make way for crossover today says more about the priorities of music companies and the music retail industry today than being grounds for questioning the validity of crossover music itself.

If pure classical music does not suffer at the expense of crossover, then we might as well say “live and let live”.

The Case Against "Crossover Classical"

My previous post - The Great Debate: How valid is ‘Crossover’ classical music? - tried to set the stage for what is an ongoing debate in the music world: Is the growth of Crossover Classical music a cause for concern or a phenomenon worth celebrating?

In this post, we look at some of the key arguments that question its validity:

The trailer is not the movie! An abridged version of Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’ or Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ does no good to the reader, the poor author or, for that matter, the work itself. The same holds good for Classical music. Crossover music tracks tend to stay within that safe zone of the typical pop song duration. “So what if the original piece or movement is 15 minutes long; we will just have to shave off the development, recapitulation and coda and stick with the main melody, repeat it twice and be done with it!” After all, the assumption behind this approach is that listeners are not particularly patient and are unable to concentrate for longer than it takes to hear a song.

If it is not broken, don’t fix it! Most fare served up by crossover artists tends to veer on the syrupy and in some cases downright cheesy renditions or extracts (or complete revamps!) of original classical music pieces. The point that recording companies seem to miss completely is that masterpieces are what they simply because they endure without the need for any overhaul to suit changing tastes. Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’ does not need a techno makeover to remain as enchanting today as it ever was! While some might scoff and call this snobbery, there is a very good reason why classical music has been handed down from generation to generation through the use of specific notation stipulating rhythm, harmony, expression and interpretation. This does not mean that to adhere to the score means to be tied down to it. On the contrary, great artists have always put their very own stamp to great music, without having to disrespect the composer or make the work unrecognizable.

Crossover tends to cross the line! When the ever-smiling visage of Andre Rieu takes up three rows of a 4-row shelf devoted to Classical music in a music store, it does not take long for me to figure out that some hard core classical music has had to be shoved off. It is bad enough that most of the albums we see today are re-issues of great recordings of the past (with only a few fortunate conductors, soloists and orchestras of today given the opportunity to record). It is bad enough that contemporary composers and their music remain on the periphery. It is bad enough that quite a bit of the catalogue today is made up of "compilation" albums which are created with the sole aim of skimming the cream off large works and serving out only the juicy melody, the vocal pyrotechnics of a bravura aria, the snatch from an orchestral climax – all meant to make you ‘swoon’, ‘chill out’, ‘relax’ or get ‘in the mood’ amongst other such absurd promises. Along with such challenges, pure classical music now has to contend with the risk that “classical lite” will take centre stage and push full-length original works into an even smaller niche than they already occupy today. No wonder then that ‘Gramophone’ (www.gramophone.co.uk) has commenced publishing a new classical music chart, based on sales of “core classical recordings”. The Official Specialist Classical Chart, compiled by the Official Charts Company in association with the peak UK record industry body, the BPI (www.bpi.co.uk), requires albums tracked to feature 100 percent classical music. What this does is give core classical and crossover different playing fields, so that core classical is no longer overshadowed by the chart-busters from crossover artists.

The Great Debate: How valid is ‘Crossover’ Classical Music?

A clearly discomforting feeling overcomes me when I scan the shelves in the classical music sections at music stores.

Where at one time, you could gorge yourself on several legendary recordings of the standard repertoire as well as new recordings of some contemporary compositions, we are increasingly faced with a fairly stripped down catalogue of core classical music. This is not simply on account of shrinking shelf space for classical music at major music retail chains.

What is alarming is that an increasingly large proportion of this limited shelf space is being hijacked by recordings of artists such as Andre Rieu, Andrea Bocelli, Katherine Jenkins, Hayley Westenra, Josh Groban, Russell Watson, Charlotte Church, Il Divo, Amici Forever, Sarah Brightman and others in that ever-growing stable of what we now call the “crossover” category.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There is nothing to stop these “crossover” stars from making a few million dollars for themselves on the strength of surging sales of their obviously well packaged and well marketed albums. After all, nobody is pointing a gun to your head when you decide to pick up a crossover album. It comes down to free will. And fortunately for this category, a large number of listeners are exercising that will and shelling out the money to make this category the fastest-growing category in classical music recordings by a mile.

While I have personally enjoyed some crossover music of the past and present and am thrilled to see some listeners who would typically not have anything to do with Bach, Beethoven or Mozart, becoming fans of classical hits, there are some reasons why this trend (or should we say phenomenon) needs to be analyzed in greater detail.

My next two posts will take a “For” and “Against” stance to crossover classical music. So please join the debate!

The Classical Music Revolution

Venezuela is in the news now for admittedly the wrong reasons. President Hugo Chavez's widely-criticized referendum saw Venezuelans voting to lift limits on terms in office and so allow him to run for re-election in 2012.

Clearly, the promise of economic and political revolution in Venezuela seems less achievable now in the face of rampant crime (that accounted for 13,000 people in 2007), entrenched corruption and a 30 percent inflation rate in 2008.

But a dramatic revolution is already underway in the country’s classical music world. 'El Sistema' (The System), a music-education program started in 1975 by economist and musician José Antonio Abreu, is working miracles in the lives of disadvantaged and at-risk children in the country. The program puts musical instruments into young hands, trains and nurtures them, provides a sense of belonging (through youth orchestras set up around the country) and then lets the power of classical music do the rest. Countless stories have emerged of youngsters putting behind the despair of impoverished homes and the aimlessness of life-on-the-streets to excel and take pride in performing the music that was once considered the preserve of the elite.

And the beauty of the program is that it is not characterized merely by good intentions. The quality of their exuberant music-making and the conviction in their performances has turned world-renowned classical musicians into enthusiastic fans of the program.

• One Venezuelan Youth Orchestra performance brought Placido Domingo to tears.
• Simon Rattle considers the program among the most important initiatives anywhere in the classical music world.
• The Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra made its Carnegie Hall debut in 2007.
• 27-year-old conducting prodigy, Gustavo Dudamel, a product of ‘El Sistema’, who leads the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra through stirring performances at concerts around the world, is set to take over as music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He already has that most sought-after of trophies in the industry - a recording contract with Deutsche Grammophon. (Simon Rattle is believed to have called him the most prodigiously gifted young conductor in the world today).
• And perhaps, the most fitting tribute to the program has come from over twenty nations around the globe who have decided to emulate El Sistema's model and bring purpose and healing to youth in their own regions; through classical music.

For more information on this program, visit http://www.fesnojiv.gob.ve/en.html

José Antonio Abreu was awarded the TED prize in 2009. Click here (Jose Antonio Abreu: Help me bring music to kids worldwide) for his inspiring talk and his amazing story.

Great flops and rubbishing hits!

Its awards season in the film industry and for those of you who keep track of the nominees, awards night either confirms some of your own choices or throws up some surprises. How often have you shaken your head in mock disbelief as a poorly-made film went on to win the highest film industry accolades? Or how often have you wondered why a brilliantly-crafted film never made it past the nominations short list? For myself, I say “Quite often”.

But when you look at the history of all art, this seems to be one of the recurring themes: Great flops and rubbishing hits!

In classical music, examples of both types are many.

Weber, on listening to Beethoven’s masterful Seventh Symphony, proclaimed that the composer was now “ripe for the madhouse”.

On the flip side, Beethoven’s ‘Battle Symphony’, perhaps the weakest of all his orchestral works, was ironically his most successful work during his lifetime.

Do you have your very own examples of great flops and rubbishing hits?

Please explain!

It seems to me that to understand the impact of classical music, we must arrive first at what it means to us.

That is a tough one! Ask people to verbalize their response to great music and you have phrases such as “truly uplifting music”, “music that transported me”, “a deeply moving experience”, “intoxicating beautiful”, “indescribably powerful”, “amazing”. But what do all these expressions imply? Perhaps the only conclusion you could draw from all these responses is that music is ineffable, inexplicable in its impact and meaning!

But that gets us nowhere. I agree that a piece of music does not mean the same to two different people. But having said that, it is impossible to ignore the fact that a good number of listeners will see the nobility of some themes in Beethoven’s ‘Emperor Concerto’ or the heroism of his ‘Eroica Symphony’ or the lyrical beauty of his Violin Concerto or the raw power of his ‘Grosse Fugue’. The implication is that specific characteristics of music elicit specific responses, but it is possible that there could be shared experiences in that several listeners “see” or “grasp” the same general essence in a particular piece. That is why you tend to find broad consensus on the general nature of virtually any piece, even if different listeners have not heard it before or know little about the background or context of the piece. That is why we tend to call one piece “boisterous”, another “melancholy”, another “ecstatic” and yet another “unsettling”.

Meaning in music is obviously easier to arrive at and share in a common manner when the music we are listening to is programmatic in nature (or music that evokes extra-musical perceptions such as a mood or a scene). Most of opera or ballet falls into this category, for the obvious reason that it “tells” a story. But famous examples of instrumental music that is programmatic abound. Beethoven's ‘Pastorale Symphony’ (No: 6) has descriptions for each movement that Beethoven himself penned. Clearly, reading these descriptions provides the listener with that much more imagery or mood-setting than he would have fashioned without it. The descriptions are:
Movement 1: Pleasant feelings on arriving in the country
Movement 2: Scene by the brook
Movement 3: Peasants merrymaking
Movement 4: The storm
Movement 5: Shepherd’s hymn of thanksgiving after the storm

Similarly, Vivaldi's enduring chartbuster the ‘Four Seasons’ has four concertos – one each for the four seasons in the year. Saint Saens’ ‘Carnival of Animals’ is a rich tone painting of various animals, Elgar's ‘Enigma Variations’ was the composer’s way of profiling some of his closest friends, Mussorgsky's ‘Pictures at an Exhibition’, Rimsky Korsakov’s ‘Scheherazade’ or ‘Flight of the Bumble Bee’, Liszt’s or Richard Strauss' Tone Poems are all examples of programme music that, while not always being representational in nature, do evoke extra-musical associations.

But Tchaikovsky’s colossal passage ‘Fir Trees in Winter’ from his ballet ‘The Nutcracker’ can evoke the impression of mighty pillars, or soaring vaults in a cathedral, or giant canyons just as much as they would evoke the impression of fir trees in winter. That is why even in programme music, the specific meaning attributed to a passage or a movement depends on the listener and can vary significantly from one listener to the next.

It actually goes to show that there are layers to meaning.

Music, like all art, can be read on different levels.

There is the literal level; much like Rimsky Korsakov’s ‘Flight of the Bumble Bee’: a simple, but invigorating simulation of the whrrr and buzz of the bee, using music. No layer to peel off. What you hear is what you get.

The second level of reading music is on a figurative level involving some attributed or associated meanings. We know that when Beethoven was asked the meaning of the rapid hammer blow opening chords of his Fifth symphony, he remarked, "Thus fate knocks on the door." This metaphor provides that opening passage and indeed the whole movement (and the whole symphony) an extra-musical association that is not immediately obvious, but when considered, can be seen as actually quite emblematic of the music.

And finally, there is the peak experience of immersing oneself in the music; no reading or commentary or analysis of the music. Here we are talking of a transcendental state that only peak music listening experiences can induce.

Why is Classical Music different?

A few aspects of classical music make it different from most other genres; especially the mainstream pop music genre.

Classical music pieces are typically:
1. Longer than most music pieces of other genres
2. Highly organized in terms of structure
3. Specified in terms of notation and method of performance

When I say long, what do I mean?

An unconfirmed story tells me that just before the compact disc was first released, its maximum playing time was raised from the initially planned 60 minutes to 74 minutes after Sony’s Vice President Nori Ohga insisted that it be able to accommodate the entire Ninth Symphony of Beethoven.

The typical pop song runs from anywhere between three minutes to eight minutes. In classical music, that timeframe would only accommodate minuets, etudes, ditties, miscellaneous parlour tunes, perhaps some waltzes, fantasies and the like. The typical symphony or concerto on the other hand is anywhere between 20 to 45 minutes long. The invitation is not so much to chat for a while and then shake hands, but rather to go on a fairly long walk; a journey as it were. Techno music can have tracks that run for 45 minutes, but their fabric is clearly based on repetition and inducing a trance-like state in the listener.

That brings me to the second distinction; the highly organized structure of classical music. Leaving aside the simple monophonic (plain melody without harmony) style of the medieval chant, one of classical music’s great attractions is the beauty that comes from creating various harmonies on a melody or various melodies in counterpoint or various and dramatic key changes within a piece. Where a typical pop track would have a lead singer with backup vocals singing in harmony, with possibly one key, modulated once or twice into a new key and an ensemble of guitars, percussion and assorted instruments, a typical symphony would have a 70-100-member orchestra with first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, double bass, woodwind, brass, percussion – all sections playing not necessarily the same melody or in the same rhythm, not necessarily in the same key, following very specific notation and a highly sophisticated organization of layered music with an astonishing number of changes in key, pace, volume and intonation.

To look at a famous (and perhaps extreme) example of the forces involved, Mahler’s Eighth Symphony was dubbed the ‘Symphony of a Thousand’ because of the huge number of musicians it called for (850 singers organized in various choirs and 171 orchestral players in the premiere performance of this symphony, conducted by the composer himself).

And before anybody goes off thinking that the complexity in classical music boils down to the number of voices or instruments used, let us not forget that ensemble pieces are not all there is to classical music. The ‘Chaconne’ (that is the last movement of Bach’s Partita Number 2 in D minor for solo violin) shows what the genius of Bach could do with just a solo instrument. Unlike the piano, which gives the composer the benefit of being able to sound out ten different notes at the same time, the violin is typically played one string at a time with the option for double-stopped playing i.e. two strings bowed at the same time or triple and quadruple-stopped playing which in fact are the result of moving the bow swiftly across the first set of double stops and onto the next string or pair to make it sound as one. Bach, with the apparently paltry forces of a single violin, composes a monumental piece of variations, encompassing a virtual universe of emotions and insight; not to mention presenting significant technical and artistic challenges for the violinist to contend with in performing this piece.

The only other genre that has comparable length in its pieces and in the level of organization of the music is, it seems to me, Indian Hindustani or Carnatic music, where the performance of a single raga can unfold over the span of 30 to 45 minutes and involves little or no actual repetition, but rather a mind boggling combination of elaboration, ornamentation, variation and improvisation.

But this blog focuses on the so-called "Western" Classical Music genre. So that is where we will stay.