Stravinsky’s famous springtime piece is so famous, powerful, and legendary, that it’s easy to forget that it didn’t just materialize out of nowhere. The Rite of Spring sounds the way it does because music had actually been headed in that direction for a quite while. Don’t believe me? Well, a couple years before The Rite was premiered, Claude Debussy wrote Images for Orchestra, which, though not as primitive and raw, sounds very similar. Coincidentally, both pieces have a section called “Spring Rounds.”

what goes around, comes around?

What Spring celebration would be complete without a romp through pagan ritual?

Igor Stravinsky‘s Rite of Spring is one of a few modern pieces that doesn’t require an introduction. (but if you need an short introduction – it’s a ballet piece that depicts ancient Russian equinox rituals of fertility, war, and human sacrifice.) I’d say it has already become the stuff of legend; there are many anecdotal stories about it. Its premiere ended in somewhat of a riot – but the music and the primal dancing were more of a spark that ignited the fuel laid by early 20th-century French social issues and class warfare. I’ve read both that Stravinsky was hurt that people laughed at the introductory bassoon solo, and that he himself laughed at “knock-kneed Lolitas” who were dancing.

And then there’s the dancing dinos of Disney. Copyright law wasn’t strong in 1940, and there’s a story of Walt Disney calling Stravinsky and demanding permission to use The Rite in his film, Fantasia – because Disney was going to use it regardless of Stravinsky’s answer, he had little choice but to agree. Having a film which included this score lead to lawsuits by the Philadelphia Orchestra and a music publisher, who sued Disney for a share of their massive profits.

Nowadays, The Rite continues its crazy influence. My favorite is a new cult of hosting Rite Dance Parties – bring your glow stick and your drugs.

So here it is, with a Ballet performance which attempts to recreate the legendary 1913 Paris premiere.

Johann Sebastian Bach is one of those amazing people who are so amazing, that the more you learn about them, you become more and more amazed at how amazing they are, and you realize that, at first, you didn’t truly know the depth of their amazingness.

I’m guessing that Bach is the second-most-written-about composer (first would be Beethoven) – but this is largely because Beethoven was a wild personality, while Bach was a very normal person. The worst things Bach did was not show up for work for a couple months (after a self-extended vacation in Lubeck), and pull a sword on a bassoonist (and really, who hasn’t done that?) He had a job, and children, and drank coffee and beer. This is not the stuff of scathing biographies.

But his music is insanely amazing (I’m sorry to say, way beyond anything Beethoven wrote). It’s lovable at every level. The untrained ear will enjoy rich harmony, florid melodies, and an expressive depth of emotion. The moderately trained ear will notice intricate repeating patterns – how he could take a single four-note-idea and develop it into a massive work – like making a life-sized cathedral out of just 5 different types of Lego blocks. The trained ear starts to find deeper layers of complexity in his music, hidden messages, numerology, key symbolism, among other things. And all the while, it just sounds great.

Here is his Orchestral Suite in b minor, for flute and strings.