Actually, that title is completely wrong. If you don’t have solid rhythm, you’ll never dance this waltz.

Nearly all music (seriously – I mean like 99% or more) is in one of a couple meters. We divide them into a few categories: duple vs. triple; simple vs. compound. Duple means there are 2 (or 4) beats per measure. Triple means there are 3 (I bet you guess that already, though.) Simple means you can divide each beat into 2 smaller beats (twinkle, twinkle, little star); compound means you can divide each beat into 3 smaller beats (row, row, row your boat). You can have simple or compound duple meter (2/4 or 6/8 – 2 beats per measure, and each beat can be divided into 2 or 3 smaller beats); you can have simple or compound triple meter (3/4 or 9/8 – 3 beats per measure, and each beat can be divided into 2 or 3 smaller beats).

Confused? Don’t worry. The important thing is that we are by no means limited to using only these meters, despite the fact that they dominate the music we hear. Write something in a different meter – say, 5/4, 7/4, 11/8 – and your piece will have either a rhythmic edge that excites people, or a disorganized pulse which only confuses people. Enter Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, arguably the smoothest crafter of melody to have ever walked the earth. This “Waltz” from his Sixth Symphony is in 5/4 time, but flows so smoothly that you wouldn’t know it’s in a quintuple meter unless you tried to dance to the music. It’s a standard form for a dance: trio – there’s an A section with a sweeping cello melody, followed by a B section marked by a timpani pulse, then a return to the A material.

Russia’s music scene blossomed at the end of the 19th century. A group known as “The Mighty Handful” or “The Five” were defining what Russian music was, mainly in opposition with Germany, which was dominating the romantic music scene. You can read about the anti-German-music sentiment in another post.

But there was this other Russian dude, who wasn’t considered one of The Five. Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov, like many musicians, made his living doing a variety of music-related jobs – conducting, composing, teaching, performing. By far, his most famous pieces are his two suites of Caucasian Sketches. This piece, from Suite No. 1, paints a grand scene of the Georgian mountains.

Another movement from the same suite can be found here.

On this day, in 1804, the legendary duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr took place.

Personal note – I am a direct descendant of Aaron Burr. Yup.

Right now, the world is all about Hamilton the Broadway musical. I haven’t seen it, though I hope to one day, once the ticket price drops below the cost of a flight to Tokyo. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy this duel scene from Tchaikovsky‘s only lasting contribution to the opera world, Eugene Onegin. If you want to read about this particular duel, check the Wikipedia page. I can sum it up for you here though – don’t be stupid and don’t challenge someone to a duel, especially one of your friends. No matter what happens, it will turn out nasty.