The Faust legend is a popular one, having been told by many different authors in many different versions throughout the centuries. In short, Faust sells his soul to the devil (Mephistopheles, or Mephisto) for worldly pleasures. Like many romantic composers, Franz Liszt loved this story, so much so that he wrote a Faust Symphony for orchestra as well as a handful of Mephisto Waltzes for piano (which, like most of Liszt’s piano music, are devilishly difficult to play). The most famous (the first) tells a story of Faust and Mephistopheles walking by a village inn; Mephistopheles starts playing the fiddle, and Faust seduces a young woman, before running off with her into the woods …
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:
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.
This piece comes from the same string quartet as my previous post; this time, we hear the second movement. Like the first movement, this one uses a traditional Jewish melody, this time based on the Kol Nidre – a declaration on the day of atonement, Yom Kippur. There is something magical about this melody and it’s short, pleading phrases, so much so that Protestant Christian composer Max Bruch wrote a concert piece for cello and orchestra based on it. But whereas Bruch simply uses a Jewish melody as the basis for a piece, Weinberg weaves the holy mysteries of the holiday into his music.
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