note: this cannon makes music AND war.

Blogging: some days the words flow from a never-ending stream of genius and awesomeness; other days, I end up blankly staring at my screen, watching the worst of YouTube, desperately looking for inspiration. (the same thing can happen when it comes to music composition, by the way!) When I’m stuck, the first thing I do is search for historical events that happened on the day of the post. So what happened on June 30? The Tunguska Event – and no, I had never heard of this until today’s web search.

Basically, the Tunguska Event was a meteor that struck the middle of Siberia in 1908 and caused a massive explosion that leveled 2,000 sq. km of forest (and caused no known human casualties***).

.. a big BOOM … in Russia … eureka! I’ve got it! I’m a genius!

Tchaikovsky‘s 1812 Overture is the most famous musical BOOM. It was written in 1882 to celebrate Russia’s victory over Napoleon in 1812. As far as the music is concerned, it’s not the most amazing piece ever written; I’d venture to say that it’s one of Tchaikovsky’s tackier contributions to the Art Music canon (pun intended). I’m not saying it’s bad, but compared to his 6th symphony or to his opera Eugene Onegin, the 1812 Overture is a hodge-podge collage of nationalistic sentimentality, including some ridiculously long, melodic sequences (like the one that starts at 0:52 and ends at 1:39 – yes, 45 seconds of descending tetrachords …), and, of course, cannons!

This is why I’m posting just the finale, not the whole piece. You can listen to the whole thing if you want, but trust me, it’ll just be a long wait until the cannons come out. Here’s what you’re hearing:

• 0:03 La Marseillaise, the French National anthem, representing Napoleon of course
• 0:40 the first of the cannons!
• 1:39 A Russian Orthodox Hymn (O Lord, Save Thy People)
• 1:45 Church Bells celebrating the Russian victory
• 3:14 God Save the Tsar, the Russian National anthem at the time (spoiler alert – God doesn’t save the Tsar)

*** if it did cause any human casualties … what a totally metal way to die!

June 23rd is St. John’s Eve – that is to say, the day before the Nativity of John the Baptist, the Christian Feast Day that celebrates the forerunner and baptizer of Jesus. But more on that tomorrow.

St. John’s Eve just happens to be the setting for one of the best scary pieces ever written – A Night on Bald Mountain (also titled “St. John’s Eve on the Bare Mountain”), by Modest Mussorgsky. The spooky music speaks for itself. Mussorgsky himself describes how he wrote the piece. I thoroughly enjoy his words (taken from a letter to a friend), because he makes the compositional process seem like a compulsive, drunken all-nighter, with plenty of Russian resentment against the Germans:

“So far as my memory doesn’t deceive me, the witches used to gather on this mountain, … gossip, play tricks and await their chief—Satan. On his arrival, the witches formed a circle round the throne on which he sat, and sang his praise. When Satan was worked up into a sufficient passion by the witches’ praises, he gave the command for the sabbath, in which he chose for himself the witches who caught his fancy. So this is what I’ve done. At the head of my score I’ve put its content:

1. Assembly of the witches, their talk and gossip;
2. Satan’s journey;
3. Obscene praises of Satan;
4. Sabbath

The form and character of the composition are Russian and original … I wrote St. John’s Eve quickly, straight away in full score, I wrote it in about twelve days, glory to God … While at work on St. John’s Eve I didn’t sleep at night and actually finished the work on the eve of St. John’s Day, it seethed within me so, and I simply didn’t know what was happening within me … I see in my wicked prank an independent Russian product, free from German profundity and routine, and grown on our native fields and nurtured on Russian bread.”

This piece is now pretty much universally recognized as one of the best parts of Disney’s 1940 film, Fantasia, which also included masterworks such as The Rite of Spring and the Pastoral Symphony.

Against all odds – right as the onset of the Cold War, a Soviet composer’s piece became a #1 hit with American Art Music audiences. Aram Khachaturian (who would today be considered Georgian, not Soviet) wrote a ballet called Gayane, whose plot was common for pretty much any Soviet art of the time: Gayane, a good, patriotic, and hard-working Soviet, finds out her lazy drunk of a husband has turned against the state! She tries to correct his behavior, but like anyone who hates the state, he is pure evil. Naturally, her attempt to correct his anti-Soviet thinking forces him to stab her. The husband is jailed, Gayane survives, and ends up falling in love with a good Soviet boy. The two marry and become model, productive citizens, the highest good one can achieve.

Awwwww … so sweet …

At some point in this amazing love story, people come out and dance with sabres. This dance became wildly popular, and ended up being used in many popular songs as well as figure skating routines.