I graduated from college before Wikipedia became big, so I’ve never had a professor scold me for using it as a source. I have heard about people submitting papers which completely incorrect information, due to faulty articles and non-expert sources. I remain on the fence in this battle, because either one expert or a collective group of people are equally capable of getting things wrong, not to mention that zeitgeists seem to have way too much influence on what is considered fact. I was happy being blissfully ignorant of what was real and what was fake on Wikipedia.

Until today.

Now, there are untruths that hurt people directly, like the supposed link between vaccines and autism. And then there are untruths that may not directly hurt people, but waste human effort and create a distrust of expertise – perhaps like the modern Flat Earth Society. And then there are untruths that don’t cause any real damage, but really piss me off. Like the Wikipedia article on Johannes Brahms‘ Piano Quartet in G minor.

Traditional sonata form begins with an exposition, which typically has two contrasting themes (occasionally there may be a third theme). The article claims that there are five – FIVE – themes in the first movement. If this were true, the first theme returns in developed version before the third theme is heard. What the author thinks is two themes is simply a short introduction, followed by a single primary theme. Like nearly every sonata, there is a transitional section which brings us to the secondary theme (or, the author’s proposed third theme). The proposed fourth theme is simply the end of the real secondary theme, and theme five is a coda. The only correct thing the author said is: Although the exposition is not repeated, Brahms creates the illusion of its repetition by starting the development section with the identical ten measures that begins the exposition.

And then the ultimate lie: Very atypically, the recapitulation begins not with the first theme, but with the second theme in G major. Sorry, but actually the recapitulation did begin with the primary theme, it just happened way later than you thought. There is no “imitative development” (whatever that is) in the recapitulation. Lastly, in what way is the exposition’s final cadence “reluctant”, and the recapitulation’s final cadence “incomplete”?

LIES!

I learned the term “homeroom quickie” from my high school Latin teacher. Whenever a large paper or project was due, inevitably among the carefully typed and prepared papers there was one which was hastily scribbled in pencil on line paper, ripped out of a 3-ring binder. The students who turned in these quickies usually did so either with their faces shamefully pointed to the floor, or with a carefree attitude of “yes, this IS my project I’ve been working on for weeks.” It was always easy to identify a homeroom quickie.

Imagine my surprise as an adult to find out that homeroom quickies typically grow up to become office quickies. Take, for example, the Samuel Barber‘s Violin Concerto. Barber was given a due date of Oct 1st, 1939, as the piece was supposed to be premiered in January 1940. Barber, however, failed to turn in the assignment on time; like any good quickie, though, there was a good excuse. He had begun the work in the summer, while he was in Switzerland – but the impending war caused a delay while he fled Europe. Nonetheless, by mid-October he had turned in two of the work’s three movements. With the clock ticking, the premiere approaching, and the violin soloist getting very nervous, the pressure was on to produce quickly. In late November, Barber whipped off a very short, very fast, very difficult finale to the concerto.

With just a little more than a month to learn and prepare this piece, the violinist rejected the work, gave a long list of criticisms and suggested edits, and ended up performing Dvorak‘s concerto instead. Barber stuck to his guns and didn’t edit his work, which was a good thing, because his concerto has since become a staple of the American Art Music repertoire.

So this “homeroom quickie” might have received an F from a teacher, but in the long run, A+. And, if ever a piece sounded like a desperate student trying to frantically write a twenty-page-paper in just three minutes, it’s this one.

Fall is here – and to celebrate, here is the iconic fall composition, “Autumn” from Vivaldi‘s “Four Seasons“.

Vivaldi wrote 500 concertos, though musicians will say that he actually wrote the same concerto 500 times. Most of these concertos are given really interesting titles – for example, “Violin Concerto in D” or “Violin Concerto in E” or maybe even “Violin Concerto in F.” In a sea of compositions with very similar names, four of his concertos stand out above the rest (not surprisingly) because they bear a title that suggests something extra-musical. The Four Seasons (having nothing to do with Franki Valli) are four Baroque concertos that musically capture the spirit of the respective times of year – Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. This sort of use of extra-musical influences is known as Program Music, and is commonplace nowadays. If a composer today wrote a piece called “A Cold Winter’s Day” or “The Ice Storm”, we wouldn’t think twice about it; in fact, we would probably begin making assumptions as to how the piece would sound, built on the musical ideas handed down through generations of wintery composers. But in 1720, for Vivaldi to write a Concerto that captures the spirit of the harvest AND to title it “Fall” was out of the ordinary.

Actually, there is more to say. Julia Fischer is awesome!