THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE DETAIL

Ferruccio Busoni

"In fine piano playing all of the details are important. I do not mean to say that if one were in another room that one could invariably tell the ability of an artist by hearing him strike one note, but if the note is heard in relation to the other notes in a composition, its proportionate value should be so delicately and artistically estimated by the highly trained performer, that it forms part of the artistic whole."

"For instance, it is quite easy to conceive of compositions demanding a very smooth running performance in which one jarring or harsh note indicating faulty artistic calculation upon the part of the player would ruin the entire interpretation. As
examples of this one might cite the Bach Choral Vorspiel, Nun Freut euch, of which I have made an arrangement, and such a composition as the Chopin Prelude Opus 28, No.3, with its running accompaniment in the left hand."

"It is often perfection in little things which distinguishes the performance of the great pianist from that of the novice. The novice usually manages to get the so-called main points, but he does not work for the little niceties of interpretation which are almost invariably the defining characteristic of the interpretations of the real artist that is, the performer who has formed the habit of stopping at nothing short of his highest ideal of perfection."

(by Wilhelm Bachaus)

"I have continually been asked, "What is the most difficult composition?" The question always amuses me, but I suppose it is very human and in line with the desire to measure the highest building, the tallest mountain, the longest river or the oldest castle. Why is such a premium put upon mere difficulty? Strange to say, no one ever seems to think it necessary to inquire, "What is the most beautiful piece?" "Difficulty in music should by no means be estimated by technical complications. To play a Mozart concerto well is a colossally difficult undertaking.
The pianist who has worked for hours to get such a composition as near as possible to his conception of perfection is never given the credit for his work, except
by a few connoisseurs, many of whom have been through a similarly exacting experience. Months may be spent upon comparatively simple compositions, such as the Haydn Sonatas or the Mozart Sonatas, and the musical public is blind to the additional finish or polish so evident to the virtuoso."

(By Will Earhart)

1. The first facts in music are emotional cries, as of birds, animals, primitive men.

2. In origin music is characteristically vocal.

3. The individual, at the moment of musical experience, is strongly active (emotionally).

4. The value of music to humanity is to heighten man's power by vast intensification of feeling.

5. The highest temple of musical art would be the music-drama auditorium.

In contrast to this general view a view that is seldom if ever, explicitly stated, but that may be discerned as implied by attitudes and preferences is another, similarly existing by implication only. It assumes that music arose because of
the Pleasure of the Ear in Tone. Instead of the emotional cries of birds, animals and men, this theory would find the origin of music in the twang of the bow-string, the sound of the wind in the reeds, the murmur of falling waters, the ring of wood on wood. All natural sonorities would become primary experiences in man's musical development. As against the other view, we would now think of music as primarily or characteristically instrumental; would conceive the individual, at the moment of musical experience, not as being strongly active but as being sensitively and beautifully receptive; would find the value of music to humanity to reside (in a word) in culture that is, in the ability to find joy in every beauty that nature or man provided; and would find the true temple of music represented, not by the
operatic stage, but perhaps by the organ-loft in St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, as Bach communed with incorporeal visions; or perhaps by the small chamber in which a string quartet would seek glories from an unseen world.

In this instrument ("the king of instruments") the art of instrument making has reached its highest point in terms of simplicity of materials and effect. The violin has the unique advantage of combining the emotional expressiveness and flexibility of the human voice, which it closely resembles, with a special brilliance and agility of its own in passage work. Unlike the human voice, the violin can also play chords to some extent.



This instrument first emerged in the sixteenth century and evolved substantially to its present form in the eighteenth century with Antonius
Stradivarius. Certain changes were made in the nineteenth century to in crease the power and brilliance of the violin. The bow, "the soul of the instrument," is strung with horsehair, and it assumed its present form about 1780 in the hands of Franfois Tourte, still considered the greatest of all bowmakers.

The violin is fully chromatic (that is, can play all the semitones) throughout its range. Originally the violin I part had more interesting and difficult things to do than the violin II. Since Wagner, however, the latter part has become increasingly difficult, and in some scores one part is as difficult as the other.

Almost any violin concerto will give an idea of the violin's capacity for
singing tone and brilliant passage work.

Bach Brandenburg Concerto No1 Part 1

(By J. Edwards)
In simplest definition, music is rhythmical sound used as a means of expression. What it expresses is first in the soul from which it flows. It takes the color of the soul's atmosphere. As an art it is not found in nature, but belongs to the ear, the brain, and the spirit of man. Nature gives only sound of which to make music. It is, therefore, a human art for the expression of the spiritual in man. In its primitive form, as in drum worship and the early religious use of bells, music was really a naive attempt to interview the invisible spirits supposed to reside within them, which responded by rhythmical and more or less melodious sounds. The ascent from a crude, animistic essay at communion with the spiritual world to the Veni Spiritus, Bernard's celestial song, Bach's Passion Music, or the best hymns of Wesley and Faber in fitting musical expression, marks the course of man's religious growth. In sacred music he utters the highest that is in him, and aspires after that which is far higher.

Have you ever seen how awesome cats play the piano? And generally have you seen any cats playing the piano? I found an amazing funny video with a cool cat.
There is so much sense in its performance! It is playing very expressive and listening to how the piano sounds. Well, actually I always suspected that the cat is a pretty smart animal, but I haven't realized how smart it can be so far. The most surprisingly is that it sits on the chair during the playing and plays "with both hands"!

I've seen some beautiful pictures of Renee Fleming and her amazing dresses, designed specially for the gala showcase by Karl Lagerfeld, Christian Lacroix, and John Galliano. A dress trimmed with lace from "Manon," designed by Mr. Lagerfeld is really a dainty work. Costumes from "Traviata" designed by Mr. Lacroix are iridescent and full of air. And my absolute favorite, the amazing dress, designed by Mr. Galliano for scenes from "Capriccio."

You can have a look at these photos here: NY Times photos of Renee Fleming

(By Philipp Spitta)

The old Variation form, above all, is brought out from the treasures of the old composers, and glorified in his hands. Brahms's variations are something quite different from what had been commonly known by that name. Their prototype is Bach's Aria with thirty variations, and that work is an elaboration of the form known as the Passacaglia, in this the determining idea is not the addition of figures or of various accompaniments to the theme or melody, but the persistent identity of the bass. This continues the same through all the variations; upon that a free treatment is worked out — not, however, excluding an occasional reference to the original melody. Beethoven so far adhered to the usually accepted form, as to restrict the supremacy of the bass to alternate use with variations in the melody, and Schumann followed his example. This form was not adopted by other great masters, and even Beethoven and Schumann only used it fitfully.

Brahms, so rich in inventive combinations, stands nearer to Bach than to Beethoven, but has much of Beethoven's freer style of treatment. Augmentation or diminution of the phrases forming the theme are a manner of variation never used by Beethoven, and employed by Brahms only in the variations in the two first Sonatas, and in the independent Air with Variations (Op. 9). In this it is often surprisingly ingenious, but he must have thought the process incompatible with his strict sense of form, just as he gave up changes of key from one variation to the next, which Schumann often used, though Beethoven allowed himself only once (Op. 34).
In the second variation in Op. 9 we find, on the other hand, what important pre-eminence he assigns to the Bass; and in the tenth variation of the same set he even uses it as the melody in the upper part. Then he derives a subject from the diminution to half or quarter notes of the opening of the theme; this is worked out to fill up the required measure, while the essential harmonies are maintained in the same succession, so that the theme, or part of it, is reflected, as it were, to and fro, from two or four mirrors. This first work of his with variations was written on a theme by Schumann, and dedicated to Clara Schumann, and Brahms therefore introduced some other musical ideas of theirs as a mark of respect.

Similar ingenious adaptations of borrowed materials often occur in his works. A brilliant instance of ingenious and artistic combination is to be seen in the ninth variation, which seems to introduce a whole piece of Schumann's with a slight alteration (out of Bunte und Blatter, Op. 99, No. 5) in the middle part, heard through the compressed theme-melody. How thoroughly he had thought out the spirit of the Variation is seen in the fact that he is fond of interchanging the modulatory relations of the two phrases of the theme. The place where this generally occurs is at the beginning of the second part; but also in the second half of the first part. The digressions, more or less important, which he admits are always so chosen that the effect of the newly introduced key approximately answers to that produced by the original key of the preceding or following phrase. Even the cadenzas appear altered from this point of view.

It is impossible, from description, to form even a faint idea of the wealth of fancy, of inventive power, of vigorous vitality that lies in Brahms's variations. I cannot, indeed, conceive of any more subtle or more thoughtful treatment of this form of music than that of Brahms — for instance, in the Variations for the Piano, on a theme of Handel (Op. 24). The danger, as it seems to me, is that the true form of variations should be lost sight of, which consisted originally in the persistent embellishment of an air. The bass of a simply harmonized theme- melody has not, as a rule, any very distinctive character.
And when it happens that the theme is a mere popular and insignificant tune, the result is a series of movements that have nothing in common with it but the constant number of bars and the regular alternation of the original key with those of the two dominants. This is the case in the Paganini Variations (Op. 35); and also, it must be said, in Beethoven's Thirty-three Variations on a waltz by Diabelli.

In close relationship to the Variation form, we had in the seventeenth century the Suite, both being essentially species of Clavier music. Of the set of dances which constituted a Suite, the first was the theme; the others were variations on it, each in its own rhythm. Traces of this connected form survived into the eighteenth century, till Bach finally severed the parts. His Suites having come into favor again in our time, some modern composers have felt prompted to imitate him; but their Suites are not Suites. When they are not Sonatas, or a simplified form of Symphony, they are Serenades. Brahms has altogether neglected the Suite. Though in his second Sonata the Scherzo is developed like a last variation from the Andante (with variations), it is one of the ingenious ideas of which his early works are full.

Bedřich Smetana (1824-1884) was endowed by nature with a rare gift of musical initiative. While a wee child of five he was already playing the violin and composing; as a poor student he returned one evening from a concert of chamber music and wrote down a string quartet he had heard, because he could not buy a copy of it. Like Beethoven, he lost his hearing in the time of his most intensive period of creation. When deaf and persecuted by the malignity of his enemies, when fate knocked on his door with its iron hand and robbed him of his wife and child, his genius created the greatest works.

The high spiritual plane of his life as it touched the personal and the accidental is revealed in the charming string quartet "From my Life". "My quartet," says Smetana, "is not merely formal playing with the tones and motifs, to show off the composer's skill, but it is the real picture of my life. The tone sounding for a long time in the Finale is that whistling sound of very high pitch, which had preceded my deafness. This little tone-picturing I dared to insert in this composition because it was so fateful for me." Smetana always found in the small ensemble of chamber music the proper interpreter for expression of his most intimate feelings. Thus the Trio, op. 15, was written to the memory of his little daughter, whose death brought to Smetana a great sorrow.

Smetana never accommodated his artistic principles to the taste of the public. He was too serious an artist to make a work pleasing to the masses. His eight operas – except The Bartered Bride – had to fight against a wall of misunderstanding; and were victorious, only after many years of dispute, because of their originality and vitality. A real genius, Smetana was much ahead of his time. The Bartered Bride (1866), Two Widows (1874), The Kiss (1876), The Secret (1878), and The Devil's Wall (1882) represent the highest style of the comic operas. Each of these works introduces a charming overture of a pure musical beauty, classical in form.



Dalibor (1868), a historical-romantic opera, became a favorite even outside its native land. The story is based upon a Czech folk-legend of the fifteenth century, which tells about a knight, Dalibor, who was a prisoner at the castle in Prague. He begged his jailor for a violin to lighten the heavy hours of his captivity. After a time, it is said, he played with such marvelous skill that the people came from far and wide to stand outside the prison walls and listen to the charming music. Likewise the libretto to the festival opera Libussa (1881) is drawn from the Czech history. This work marks the climax of Smetana's genius, and knowledge of it is indispensable to the student of Czech musical art. The overture to this opera is a masterpiece of form and festival mode. It begins with a trumpet call, developed in a tremendous gradation. Surely this work ought to be heard at least in a concert hall.

Considering the technical side, Smetana's works exhibit a great skill in the most problematic combinations of the polyphonic style flowing so naturally, that the hearer does not notice the difficulties solved with such exquisite grace and lightness. The melodies are fresh, original, and impressive, and enriched with Smetana’s harmonic peculiarities.

As a composer for the piano Smetana left a considerable number of works, especially Polkas, which he idealized in a very poetic form. His Polka No. 1, op. 7, was one of Liszt's favorites. Two cycles of piano compositions, of which the first bears the title Reves, and the other The Bohemian Dances, especially deserve the attention of the pianist. In this later work the Czech folk-melodies are preserved in very artistic and pianistic style. Smetana's best known composition, which is often played at concerts, is his etude By the Seashore, op. 17, a difficult but very effective piece of music snatching the spell of the Northern Sea.

In the last period of his creation Smetana expressed his love and admiration for his country and its history in poems in a cycle called My Country, consisting of six charming symphonic poems: Vyšehrad, the old castle, the seat of the first Bohemian ruler; Vltava, the river of Bohemia; Šarka, the Bohemian Amazon; From Bohemian Meadows and Woodlands, an idyll; Tabor and Blanik, which picture in tones the glorious past epoch of the Reformation. With this work the composer reached his goal. No greater tribute to his success is needed than Liszt's exclamation upon hearing of Smetana's death—"He was a genius!"

Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904), the best known Czech composer, was a son of a village butcher. From his early childhood his only passion was music. In spite of many struggles and much suffering, he did not cease to study and work, Music was his consolation, his life. In just praise it may be said that the high position of this composer in the musical world is due chiefly to his unparalleled perseverance under his own criticism. To take a full orchestra score of a completed opera and destroy it and then rewrite it, was characteristic of Dvorak's method of attaining perfection. This self-teaching explains his temporary experimenting and uncertainty in form.

The number of Dvorak's compositions is vast, covering almost all forms of music. His fame began with Slavic Dances, brilliantly instrumented, which appealed to the larger public. Of his five symphonies the last one, From the New World, was composed while Dvorak was teacher of composition at the National Conservatory of Music in New York, in 1892. To this American period belongs the popular String quartet, op. 96, and his most beautiful as well as his last vocal opus, the cycle of The Biblical Songs, op. 99.

Whoever wishes to have a clear idea of Dvorak's genius must study and hear the wonderful symphonic poems from the last period of the composer's life. Here Dvorak, master of classical and absolute music, pays his tribute to the modern form of romantic program music with great success. As a composer of piano music, Dvorak could not subdue his eminent orchestral genius to clavier technique; his piano compositions call for instrumentation. The seventh number from opus 101 has become an extraordinary favorite in US. It is the celebrated Humoresque.
Of his seven operas the most beautiful is Russalka, which exhibits the best qualities of the author's creative ability. It may be said, however, that all Dvorak's operas are handicapped by a lack of conciseness.

Rhythm is an element of nature, and the whole universe responds to it. The periodic movements of the constellations must be rhythmical or the solar systems would be annihilated; the return of the seasons, the rising and setting of the sun, the rising and falling of the tides, all are rhythmical; the pulse of life is rhythm, for rhythm is the pulsation of every kind of movement and pulsation the rhythm of everything that has life. It is therefore no strange thing that man, when performing any recurring movement, should naturally fall into doing it rhythmically; he cannot avoid it, for rhythm helps him, makes it easier, as it has a momentum of its own.
The march is an evolution of the measured step of warriors or priests, the dance is an evolution of the measured movements of the body under mental or emotional excitement, and the most intricate modern musical rhythms have been evolved from these primitive sources.
Walking is the most rhythmical exercise; the free movement of the feet and legs, the relaxed swing of the arms, and the regular inhaling and exhaling of the breath, should produce balanced physical rhythm. When this is not so, there is something wrong with the organism; an unrhythmical gait is one of the surest symptoms of a mental or physical defective.



How Music Works: a programm about Rhythm

Rhythm is simply balance, as necessary in the physical sphere as in the mental and emotional spheres; in music and poetry it is the balancing of one strong beat or part against one or two weak beats or parts. It is necessary to language in the same sense that as a rhythmical arrangement of inarticulate sounds (tones) produces music, so a rhythmical arrangement of articulate sounds (words) produces the cadences of prose and poetry.
If the fundamental idea of rhythm is pulsation, the next idea should be order, for rhythm brings order into every kind of movement. When exemplified in the arrangement of matter into visible objects, as in sculpture and architecture and other plastic arts, rhythm is translated into symmetry. Symmetry is one of the chief requisites of a work of art; it is as necessary to that art which appeals to the eye as to that which appeals to the ear – as in music and poetry.

During the Eighteenth Century a notable change took place in the construction of the Allemande, which was frequently developed to a considerable length and published separately under the title of Sonata. Very fine Sonatas answering more or less closely to this description have been bequeathed to us by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Domenico Scarlatti, whose well-known Sonata in A would probably become one of the most popular pianoforte pieces, which almost insuperable difficulty deters even highly accomplished Virtuosi from attempting to play it. In Emanuel Bach's Sonatas the Allegro is generally followed by a short Adagio and this by a Rondo. Many other writers have left us Sonatas in two or three distinct movements. But for the perfect ideal of the so-called "Sonata-Form" we are indebted to the genius of Haydn, the originality of whose invention has justly earned for him the title of "The Father of Modern Instrumental Music".



Haydn’s role in the design and the developing of classical Sonata and influence of his principles is widely recognized.

In its complete form, Haydn's ideal design comprised four distinct movements. The first of these was a well-developed Allegro – sometimes prefaced, especially in Orchestral Compositions, by an introductory Adagio, or Largo. In its main features, this Allegro was constructed very much upon the principle of the old Allemande; but with one important difference. After modulating to the Key of the Dominant, the first part of the movement, instead of proceeding at once to a Perfect Cadence, introduced a Second Subject in the new key, which Second Subject re-appeared near the close of the second part, transposed to the key in which the movement originally started. The Allegro was followed by a Slow Movement – either Andante, or Adagio – the form of which was less rigidly defined.

The third movement was a Minuet consisting of two Strains, followed by a Trio consisting of two more, after which the Minuet was repeated, in the manner of a Da Capo, The Finale was a Rondo, generally of lighter and more playful character than the Allegro, and differing from it also in that after each of its clauses, the original Subject was repeated in full in the original key.

A work composed upon this regular and now generally received plan, for one or two Solo Instruments, is called par excellence, a Sonata. When the resources of a full Orchestra are called into play, the composition is entitled a Symphony. When a Solo Instrument is accompanied by the full Orchestra, it is called a Concerto. When the first Movement only is employed, it is called an Overture, and in that form is used as the Instrumental Prelude to an Opera, an Oratorio, or other grand choral work. Not only do we trace the influence of the Sonata-Form in all the great instrumental works produced by Haydn himself, but we find it openly adopted by every one of his successors, and forming the basis of every Overture, Quartett, Sonata, Symphony, or other similar composition that has ever been given to the world.

Not that the really great writers have slavishly followed the lead even of Haydn. They have not indeed disdained to learn from him: but each has added to his teaching some good thing of his own. Mozart, in his Jupiter Symphony substituted for the Rondo a magnificent Orchestral Fugue. Beethoven enriched the Allegro with a well-developed Coda; and quickened the Tempo of the Minuet to so great an extent, that its old name being no longer applicable, he thought it necessary to call it a Scherzo. But the main outlines of the design have been followed by all composers of Classicism.

The Fugue was an instrumental form, diligently cultivated in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, a movement, founded upon a given Subject, repeated sometimes in one part, sometimes in another, and enriched with all the clever contrapuntal devices the ingenuity of its composer could suggest.

The Fugue was successfully introduced by Lulli into nearly all the Overtures to his once celebrated Operas, and employed with infinitely greater effect by Handel and Bach, who used it freely in their choral, as well as their instrumental compositions, and brought it to a state of perfection which has never since been equaled. Bach's Wohltemperirte Klavier contains Forty-eight Preludes and Fugues of inimitable beauty: while, among Handel's Overtures and Choruses, we find innumerable specimens of the style which have always been regarded as his grandest and most sublime conceptions. Corelli has also left us some fine instrumental examples.

Beethoven's life was аs somber as Haydn's was bright and genial. In spite of his fitful outbursts of uncontrollable gaiety, it is impossible to believe that he was a happy man. The last years of his life were embittered, not only by a gradually increasing deafness, which deprived him of his only solace, but, still more, by the ingratitude of a worthless nephew, upon whom he lavished a wealth of affection which might have melted a heart of stone. He died, during a terrific thunderstorm, on the 26th of March 1827. Even in Vienna his greatness was acknowledged then and with reason for it is not to be expected that the present centuries will "see his like again".

One of Beethoven's most talented contemporaries was Franz Schubert. He like Beethoven wrote not for popularity, but in obedience to the dictates of an inward Voice which would not be silenced. Though his Compositions were so little prized during his life-time, that not one tenth part of them were ever either published or performed, their number is almost incredible. For long time his name was known, even in Germany, only by his matchless Songs. That he became better understood is due entirely to the generous ardor of Robert Schumann, who was the first to rescue his greater works from the oblivion to which they were rapidly drifting. Once brought to light, it is not likely that they will ever again be forgotten. Now many compositions of Franz Schubert are very popular and favourite all over the world.

Franz Joseph Haydn was born at Rohrau in Austria on the night of the 31st of March 1732, and received his first instruction in Music from a distant relative named Frankh, to whose care his father committed him, when he was only six years old. Frankh lived at Hamburg, where two years later the clear treble voice accidentally attracted the attention of Georg von Reutter, the then Kapellmeister of St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna, who at once admitted him into the Cathedral Choir, and retained him there until the year 1748, when his voice having lost its youthful freshness, he was left to shift for himself as best he could.


Haydn's portrait by Ludwig Guttenbrunn


Though thrown by this misfortune entirely on his own resources, and compelled to starve, in a miserable garret in the Kohlmarkt, he continued his studies with unvarying assiduity; and after receiving the best instruction he could get for nothing (including some lessons from Porpora) obtained a few pupils, made some kind friends, and patiently awaited better times. These came at last. In 1759 he was appointed Musikdirektor to Count Morzin, and in 1701 he obtained a similar, though far more important and influential post in the establishment of Prinz Paul Anton Esterhazy.

Haydn was now well provided for, and devoted the whole of his time to the production of the delightful works which have made his name so deservedly famous. After the death of his kind patron, he remained in the service of his brother, Prinz Nikolaus, whose celebrated diamond suit obtained for him the title of "the Magnificent".



Prinz Nikolaus was a still more liberal patron of art than his brother; and to him Haydn owed the pleasantest of lives, with innumerable opportunities for bringing out his talents to the greatest possible advantage. The Prince died in 1700; and in the following year Haydn visited London for the first time and composed the first six of his Grand Symphonies for Salomon's Concerts. On the 8th of July 1791 the University of Oxford conferred upon him the Degree of Doctor of Music.


In 1704 he came a second time to London; and during that and the following year he produced six new Symphonies to complete his engagement with Salomon. He returned to Vienna in August 1705 and again re-constituted the Esterhazy Orchestra for Prinz Anton, the successor of Prinz Nikolaus. He composed his greatest work The Creation in 1708; and The Seasons in the following year.

This was his last great effort. During the latter years of his life, the infirmities of age increased upon him rapidly. On the 26th of May 1800 he was carried to his pianoforte, and solemnly sang the "Emperor's Hymn" three times with the best voice he could command; and at one o'clock on the morning of the 31st his spirit passed away.

Haydn's life was, on the whole, an exceptionally happy one; though its brightness was marred by the evil tempers of a heartless and unsympathetic wife. The fact, that of Symphonies alone he left behind him no less than a hundred and twenty-five, will serve to give some idea of the fecundity of his genius.

Francois Frederic Chopin was born at Zelazowa Wola, in Poland, on the 1st of March, 1809. He himself used to say that his life was "an episode, without beginning, and with a sorrowful end." Into the history of that miserable episode, and of the well-known novelist who figured as its heroine, we need not enter. All that now concerns us is his wonderful power as Pianist and Composer. In both branches of Art he was irresistible. In both he soared into an atmosphere of Romance, impenetrably closed to minds of coarser mould. Schumann truly characterized him as "the boldest and proudest Poet-Spirit of the age"; and well described the wonderful individuality of his conceptions in the clever little epigram", Chopin looks at many things; but, always through the same spectacles." His works are very numerous, and full of freshness and beauty. He died, in Paris, on the 17th of October, 1849.
Free sheet music of Frederic Chopin.

It is impossible to discuss the views of Richard Wagner, in common with those of any other leading spirit of the age. He claims to stand, alone - and alone he must stand, or fall. He boldly asserts, that the whole aim and end of the Opera has, hitherto, been totally, and most lamentably misunderstood. That our greatest Composers - not even excepting Cimarosa, Mozart, Beethoven, Weber, or Cherubini - have, from the very outset, worked upon principles essentially erroneous; and, by reason of the errors of those principles, have, one and all, failed to produce a really perfect work. On the strength of this assertion, he has been accused of holding the Music of Mozart, and Beethoven, in contempt - but, in this matter, he has been very unfairly treated. He condemns these, and other great writers, not as Musicians, but as Dramatists. His theory is that the Musical Drama depends, for its perfect success, upon the united action of three Sister Arts - Poetry, Music, and Scenic Effect. That the great Composers we have mentioned, in common with all others who have hitherto considered the subject, have sacrificed the Poetry, and the Scenic Effect, for the sake of the Music. That to this fatal cause we must attribute their most deplorable failure - for, that they have failed, utterly, he unhesitatingly assures us. And, that, so long as Operas continue to be written upon the system he condemns, so long will they continue to fail.
Reducing this theory to practice, he writes his own Libretti; arranges the minutest details of the Action, and Scenic Decorations, necessary to give full force to the situations they embody; and sets them to such Music, alone, as he believes will serve to bring these situations into still stronger relief. Against the recognized form of the Operatic Aria he wages implacable war: rejecting it, utterly, on the ground that it impedes the Action of the Drama, in order to afford the Singer time to display his power of vocalization. In place of it, he substitutes a species of Mezzo recitativo if one may be allowed to coin a word for the purpose of expressing one's meaning the more clearly - in which the characteristics of Melody, properly so called, are blended, in about equal proportions, with those of simple Recitation to musical notes. On this point, again, he has been cruelly misunderstood. Critics, examining his Scores without troubling themselves to analyze the principles upon which they are constructed, have declared him incapable of writing in a truly melodious vein. To fulminate such an accusation as this against the Composer of the Pilot's Song, in the Flying Dutchman, or the Bridal Scene, in Lohengrin-to say nothing of the March in Tannhäuser - is simply absurd.

Wagner abstains, as a general rule, from introducing pure Melody into his dramatic work, not because he cannot write it, but because it does not coincide with his preconceived ideas of aesthetic propriety. The measured Recitative – or, as he himself calls it, Melos – with which he supplies its place, he supports with Orchestral Accompaniments of the most varied and ingenious character; producing wonderfully beautiful, and often very startling effects, by means of combinations which no other Composer has ever either attempted, or imagined. His unlimited command over the resources of the Orchestra is, indeed, beyond all doubt, his strongest point. To this his Operas owe a large proportion of the effect they never fail to produce; and it is unquestionably to this great quality that he is mainly indebted for the high reputation he enjoys among Musicians who are far from sharing his peculiar views. Were his Part-writing as irreproachable as his Instrumentation, his reputation would stand still higher. But, unhappily, he constantly indulges in progressions which the ear can scarcely tolerate, and sets the teeth of his audience on edge with false relations which seem to have been selected for the mere sake of inflicting wanton torture.

The example of Wagner's everlasting melody in the Prelude for the Tristan and Isolde.



His method of writing for the Voice, too, is open to serious reprehension; not only because it is essentially "unvocal", but because it is so trying to the vocal organs as to threaten them with premature destruction.
It is scarcely necessary to say that Wagner's ideal conceptions were the result of no momentary inspiration. It was only after long years of patient thought that he was able to demonstrate, satisfactorily to himself, the principles we have endeavored to elucidate. In his early Opera, Rienzi, their effect is very faintly, if at all, perceptible. We find them more clearly expressed in Der Fliegende Hollander ("The Flying Dutchman"), and Tannhäuser: more strongly still, in Lohengrin, Tristan und Isolde, and Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg. But they only reach their full development in his last great work, Der Ring des Nibelungen - so-called Trilogy consisting of a Prologue, entitled Das Rheingold, and three subsequent divisions, respectively named Die Walküre, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung, each division being, in itself, a complete Opera, long enough to furnish an entire evening's entertainment.

Sheet music of operas of Wagner (mostly piano traskriptions)

Ludwig and Malwine Schnorr von Carolsfield in the title roles of the original production of Richard Wagner's Tristan und Isolde in 1865

This suite was written by Modest Mussorgsky in 1874 and was dedicated by Mussorgsky to the friend of him Victor Hartmann, who was an architect and artist. The exhibition of his works inspired Mussorgsky to create a suite "Pictures at an Exhibition", a kind of review after all what he had seen there.

The sheet music of The pictures at an exhibition of Mussorgsky for piano.







The suite is opening by the piece "Promenade". The theme of this part based on the pentatonic reminds Russian folk choral music. The measure is variable - 5/4 and 6/4. The leitmotif of "Promenade" will come back from time to time between other parts of suite as illustration of the composer walking from work to work. The other friend of Modest Mussorgsky, a prominent critic Vladimir Stasov see here the reminiscence of the mood of the composer, who is "roving through the exhibition, now leisurely, now briskly in order to come close to a picture that had attracted his attention, and at times sadly, thinking of his departed friend."
Besides of "Promeande" and it’s theme the Suite consists of ten pieces-sketches describing the pictures of Hartmann: No.1 "Gnomus", No. 2 "Il vecchio castello", No. 3 "Tuileries" (Dispute d'enfants après jeux), No. 4 "Bydlo", No. 5 "Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks", No. 6 "Samuel Goldenberg und Schmuÿle", No. 7 "Limoges, le marché" (La grande nouvelle), No. 8 "Catacombae" (Sepulcrum romanum), No. 9 "The Hut on Hen’s Legs (Baba-Yaga)", No. 10 "The Bogatyr Gates (in the Capital in Kiev".

Here is a part of suite performed by the great Russian pianist Sviatoslav Richter.



Initially written by Mussorgsky for the piano this suite was rearranged many times for the orchestra by Henry Wood, Leopold Stokowski, Walter Goehr and others. But the most famous is the orchestration of Maurice Ravel. Commissioned by Sergey Koussevitzky this version was first performed on 19th of October 1922. Maurice Ravel was a unique composer and also a prominent arranger this version has acquired a wide distinction and is one of the most famous nowadays.

Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Philharmonia Orchestra play “The Pictures at an exhibition” orchestrated by Maurice Ravel.

This year the great ballet diva Maya Plisetskaya and Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. This is alliance of two great persons, two big names in contemporary art.
More than forty years ago Rodion Shchedrin wrote the ballet for Maya Plisetskaya named "Carmen Suite". This work is based on music of the opera "Carmen" written by George Bizet.
The first performance of ballet "Carmen Suite" took place in 1967 in Moscow Bolshoi Theatre and at once caused argument in Soviet critique.
Here is a scene from this great ballet.

The composer of The Seasons, Antonio Vivaldi, could die right after his birth. He was born the seven-month.
Vivaldi was a priest but didn’t celebrate the mass, because of his very poor health. He became a violin teacher at an orphanage in Venice. During this time he wrote his numerous concertos for various instruments. Not many people know that he Vivaldi wrote more than 45 operas, but almost all of them are forgotten.
The Four Seasons (Le quattro stagioni) is one of the most famous and popular classical music, I think. It is played in concert halls and on streets. More than 120 recordings of this work exist. God knows how many transcriptions of the Four Seasons there are in the world. Here you can see the forth part The Winter, good known by its great first part.

I admire people who rich an achievement in their profession in spite of various obstacles. The one of most popular tenors nowadays is Andrea Bocelli. His became total blindness in age of twelve. This tragedy didn’t stop his music study. In the same year he received the first prize in his first song competition. He graduated as a Doctor of Law at the University of Pisa. He even had been working as a court appointed lawyer till his career turned on the way of singing. Later he became a pupil of Italian tenor Franco Corelli. His firs major operatic role was Rodolfo in La bohème at the Teatro Comunale in Cagliari in 1998. Beautiful voice, attractive appearance and a lot of passion make his performances unforgettable.

I’ve found this recording of Aranjuez concerto of Joaquin Rodrigo, a famous Spanish composer, who also has lost the use of his eyes in his childhood. This famous music full of passion and sadness sounds very impressive in the interpretation of Andrea Bocelli.

I want return to the question about a repertoire for beginners again. There is a famous cycle of pieces op.39 of Russian composer Peter Tchaikovsky named "Album for the young". All pieces in this album are very short and were defined by Tchaikovsyi to be played by children themselves. The character of pieces varies from very sad as "Dolly's Funeral" to joyful "The little horseman". All pieces of "Album for the young" have program names. This is good for young pianists, because helps them to imagine stories what are this pieces about. Clear and beautiful melody and harmony structure make these pieces simple to interpret. The techniques used by Tchaikovsky in the "Album for the young" are also very various: double-notes, chords, singing legato, its combination with staccato, or total legato in both arms, and opposite – staccato in all voices. The most famous pieces as "French song" or "Neapolitan song" are well known to children and usually they enjoy playing these pieces.



Other cycle with a similar name "Children's Album" was written by other Russian composer Dmitri Capyrin in these latter days. The composition style of Dmitry Capyrin characterize by atonality and quite complicated contemporary musical language. But the structure of pieces and fraises is quite easy to understand. Dmitri Capyrin followed the tradition and gave the program names for all pieces. The subjects and characters of "Children’s Album" are vivid and clear: Sad Waltz, On Tiptoe, Breeze, Clouds, Attractions, on the Wings and so on. There are altogether 12 pieces. All pieces are quite short and occupy one or two pages.
All this make this cycle worth to your attention, the more so because we have so little contemporary piano music for beginners.

Dmitri Capyrin’s Children’s Album free sheet music

Schumann wrote very nice cycle of pieces named Album für die Jugend. I really enjoy playing them. One of this nice and pretty easy piano pieces is Number 13 “Mai, lieber Mai”.

I have found out that it is a terrible problem, to choose appropriate pieces for beginners. Especially with young pianists this process transforms into a burning issue. All of them want to play The Moonlight sonata and For Elise immediately, as soon as they have crossed the threshold of piano room. And no one wants to play studies and exercises. Although studies can be sometimes not really boring and exercises can be quite melodic and nice. What is the best way to explain for children that without playing of exercises they will not be able to play even For Elise? I try to find some funny or interesting moments, to invent a story together with a child. The main purpose is favoring a pianist to understand what does he playing about. When a player has a certain image – a mouse, running fast on the floor, sea waves and so on – it makes him listening very attentively to what is he playing, to the sound of an instrument. In this case not only his fingers but also his mind and his ears are working efficiently. The result of such kind of exercises is much better. It would be very helpful if composers write more programmatic studies and pieces. This is very important for beginners, and not only piano players, I think.
There are some good examples of such pieces:
Berens 50 Piano Pieces for First Beginners Op.70
Beethoven Six pastoral Dances
Easy sheet music

Why do we need opera nowadays? It is based on outdated subjects, emotions, stories. Musical language in most famous operas is not modern, too difficult for people who are used to perceive sound track no longer than 5-6 min. No trick effects, no computer graphics. For generation of cinematography and computers it is too boring to sit three hours and look to the stage where are one or two-three singers walking hither and thither. No explosions, pursuits and fights.

Yeah, really I am wonder that the Opera genre is still alive. And feels not bad should I admit. Especially if a good professional as Willy Decker straps to his work. His 2005 Salzburg Festival production of Verdi’s La Traviata is something unforgettable.



Dramatic acting of Russian operatic star Anna Netrebko and fantastic Alfredo - Rolando Villazón – makes me feel creepy all over. I think that the passion, which singers put into the acting, and stage relaxedness make theirs vocal parts more realistic and vivid. Although sometimes it seems to me that this style of performing prevents singers to sing theirs parts more carefully and exactly. In the Violetta’s Air Sempre Libera from the I Act orchestra hardly can follow a singer here and there. Of course how can we expect this if Violetta is blind drunk? I am only wonder and terrified how it is possible to sing in such inconvenient positions.



That broken up glass was very impressive, wasn’t it?

Just let us compare with another recording of this Air. I advise you to take note of the acting, costumes and stage design. No glasses, but shoes.



Yeah, absolutely different idea… and impression. Which version do you like more?
Sheet music of Verdi’s La Traviata piano score.