Hector Berlioz is his name.

To an untrained ear, his music sounds like much of the music of the Romantic Era. To a seasoned ear, he is in a class all unto himself.

I am especially fond of Berlioz’s romantic sensibilities. He writes in his memoirs about a visit to the Paris opera. During a particularly moving aria, Berlioz overheard a conversation between two men behind him:

“Good Lord, sir, calm down! Control yourself!”
“I can’t! It’s too beautiful!”
“You silly ass, don’t let the music affect you so!”
“Just leave me alone!”
“It’s only music, you fool. Get over it! Here, have a piece of this orange, it will make you feel better.”
“It’s wonderful!”
“It’s fresh and imported from Spain!”
“I was talking about the music, you nincompoop!”
“Oh, yes, the music – it’s alright.”

Soon after this, Berlioz himself begins to weep at the overwhelming beauty of the music. At the end of the aria, he is lifted from his seat by the man behind him, who is overjoyed to have found someone who was equally moved. They embrace and share a moment together, and never see each other again.

Did you ever hear a piece and think, I know this tune, but these aren’t the words I’m used to?

French fashion … yeah …

Anyway, whether or not you recognize any of these French carols, the music is quite catchy, largely because of its origin as secular song. Charpentier, like a good Frenchman of the old monarchy of puffy wigs and silly shoes, makes exquisite, elegant work out of everyday melodies.

Merry Christmas!

Thanks to elementary-school music classes and “Row, row, row your boat”, canon is a musical term that is pretty well known. Even if you didn’t pay attention in music class, you probably recognize the term from going to, basically, any and every wedding ever.

You can find canons throughout all of music history. To this day, student composers write canons as part of their training. Canons range from being super simple to outrageously complex.

Cesar Franck wrote canon into many of his works – this was a bit odd for the romantic era, which tended to favor emotion and drama over form and structure. Franck’s canons, however, perfectly fit the aesthetic of the romantic era, and never sound forced or out of place. His Sonata for Violin and Piano is a stunning work and favorite of violinists & pianists (and flutists, who also lay claim to this work.)

Interestingly, Franck’s most famous composition, also with a canon, can be heard alongside Pachelbel’s, at “any and every wedding ever.”