Not surprisingly, I’ve learned a lot from writing this blog. Sometimes it lets me dig a little deeper into music I know and love. Other times, like today, I discover something completely new to me. The story of Jacob Weinberg is a great testament to the power of music and the resilience of the human spirit.

Weinberg was born in the Ukraine in 1879, and educated as a lawyer in Moscow. He preferred practicing piano over practicing law, and became a musician. In the early 20th century, nationalism was a common theme in Art Music, and there was a booming interest in folk melodies. Russia had its own group of nationalistic composers, but this group would have excluded Jewish music and composers due to growing anti-Semitic feelings throughout Europe. So, Russian Jews formed their own nationalistic Art Music movement, which Weinberg helped to found. The Bolshevik Revolution resulted in the killing and imprisonment of thousands of Jews; Weinberg fled to Palestine, where he composed the first Hebrew opera. He used the earnings from this opera to move to New York, where he spent the rest of his life as a performer, composer, and teacher.

Weinberg’s String Quartet op. 55 is a perfect example of the Jewish Art Music movement – here, sacred melodies associated with Rosh Hashanah are presented in a concert form. I read here that the sacred melody is the ma’ariv, but I will admit to not knowing this tune, nor can I find it in the piece without some real time and research (which I intend to do later). If you know this melody, and can identify it, please let me know!

There’s a remarkable connection between our senses and our memory. The sound of the ocean, the feeling of a soft blanket or pet, the sight of a landmark or building, the taste of certain food, or even a mere smell can trigger vivid memories – sometimes positive, sometimes traumatic.

Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov was born and educated near St. Petersburg, Russia. After graduating from the conservatory there, he was appointed music director of an orchestra in Tbilsi, Georgia. After seven years, he returned to Russia to be a professor at the Moscow Conservatory. It was here he wrote his most famous work, the Caucasia Sketches – musical memories of the region of his first professional employment. Included in these sketches is a movement titled “In a Mosque“, in which you can hear a Muezzin‘s call to prayer at the beginning. I imagine that every time he heard this piece, Ippolitov-Ivanov was transported back to his time in Tbilsi.

Sometimes my choice of music for this blog is sometimes based on the date or event (especially for important days, like Saturnalia), sometimes based on what is playing in my head, and sometimes based on a completely random train of thought. Today, it’s the third – a random train of thought.

Since this particular thought-train is perhaps a bit dark, I should explain. 9/11 has been on my mind (and all over the news), and I couldn’t help but ponder the events of that day. Acts of terrorism, mass death, airplanes, suicide attacks … and then, without intending it, I remembered a piano piece titled “Suicide in an Airplane”, by Leo Ornstein. Tasteless, yes, but that’s how the brain works sometimes. So that’s why today’s piece is by Ornstein – but a different piece, titled “Solitude”, which I hadn’t known before today.

Ornstein skyrocketed to fame in the 1910’s with his futurist piano works. Futurism was meant to bring about a sort of industrial revolution in music – shunning the old musical ways or traditional instruments and singable melodies, and looking to machines and factories for inspiration. Hence, “Suicide in an Airplane” sounds like a plane motor (propeller – this was 1918, after all) in takeoff. However, after this 15-minutes of fame, he returned to a conservative musical style, composing all the way into his 90s. “Solitude” is a lovely piece and a return to the impressionistic style found in Debussy‘s earlier piano works.