Halloween is coming! Time for some spooky music,

There are so many great works of Art Music that are frightening that I had to schedule some of them throughout the year just to make sure we get them all. So before we begin our countdown to Halloween, you might want to check out some of the other pieces that fit the holiday:

• a song about dead children
• a classic morose song of death
• ride of the valkyries, of course
• more morose death, this time of a maiden
• vampire music
• this spooky dance
• everyone’s favorite funeral march
• an Italian thunderstorm
• the song of the Elf King
• a night on bald mountain, of course
• music for beheading people
• a journey to the underworld
• another journey to the underworld, except this one is a happy, fun underworld
• some more moroseness
• a reminder that you will die someday
• ghost pirates! Need I say more?
• weighty moroseness

Well, now that we have that out of the way, let’s continue with the countdown to Halloween!

Let’s go straight into the Wolf’s Glen. This truly frightening opera scene comes from Der Freischütz, an opera by Carl Maria von Weber. Weber is credited with making German Opera a unique genre through this work. Featuring the supernatural, gods and goddesses, mythology, monsters, and magic, this genre was great for the musical imaginations of composers; you can draw a line from their influence all the way from Der Freischütz (1821) to the most recent Star Wars (2015).

To sum up this opera scene: A guy needs to “win” a girl (sorry, I know that’s sexist) by proving himself as an expert marksman. A cursed man convinces him to use magical bullets to prove his shooting abilities (naturally, this means that he would have to sell his soul to the devil, but men will do these things when they want to win a girl). And how does one acquire magic bullets? You go into the Wolf’s Glen at midnight and call upon the demon hunter. Of course.

Note: early German Operas were not unlike broadway plays – there was spoken dialogue between musical pieces. The speaking eventually disappeared in the genre, but you’ll hear it in the recording below.

The notion of observing Indigenous Peoples’ Day is quickly gaining momentum, and will probably soon eliminate Columbus Day altogether. Its first official celebration was, ironically, on the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ voyage, in 1992, in the form of a protest.

Like any other human culture, Native Americans have been making music for thousands of years. Sadly, with the decimation of their nations and people, there are only a handful of living Native American composers today. The good news is that efforts are being made to promote and encourage music by Native American composers, especially by the First Nations Composer Initiative, part of the American Composers Forum. One of the Institute’s advisors is Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate, a member of the Chickasaw, who were among the tribes who walked the infamous trail of tears.

This work by Tate is a longer listen, but well worth it. The following description (slightly shortened) comes from Tate’s website:

Iholba’ (The Vision) is a work inspired by the composer’s native Chickasaw culture…. The musical material for Iholba is based on a Chickasaw Garfish Dance song and work is sung in the Chickasaw language. The text is original poetry by the composer…. The work is in two movements, entitled Halbina’ (The Gift) and Iholba’ (The Vision)…. Iholba’ is dedicated to my grandmother, Juanita Foshi’ Keel Tate.

Don’t do drugs, kids. But if you do, do it like Scriabin.

Alexander Scriabin wrote plenty of perfectly normal pieces; he was a brilliant pianist who wrote his own set of piano preludes and etudes, similar to the great Chopin and Liszt. But once he turned 25, things began to get weird. He developed his own system of harmony based on the whole tone and octatonic scales. At the time, this was edgy, but not groundbreaking; it makes his music sound similar to French impressionism. What sets Scriabin apart is his synesthesia, the “color organ” he invented, his devotion to Theosophy, his rambling writings, and his wild music inspired by religious visions. His two most famous pieces are the Poem of Fire and the Poem of Ecstasy.

Scriabin himself approved this description of The Poem of Ecstasy, which will describe it far better than I:

The Poem of Ecstasy is the Joy of Liberated Action. The Cosmos, i.e., Spirit, is Eternal Creation without External Motivation, a Divine Play of Worlds. The Creative Spirit, i.e., the Universe at Play, is not conscious of the Absoluteness of its creativeness, having subordinated itself to a Finality and made creativity a means toward an end. The stronger the pulse beat of life and the more rapid the precipitation of rhythms, the more clearly the awareness comes to the Spirit that it is consubstantial with creativity itself. When the Spirit has attained the supreme culmination of its activity and has been torn away from the embraces of teleology and relativity, when it has exhausted completely its substance and its liberated active energy, the Time of Ecstasy shall arrive.

I’ll say it again, kids: don’t do drugs.