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.

Alternate title: GuilloTUNEs

France’s Fourth of July takes place on the fourteenth of July – Bastille Day (or, as the French prefer to call it, the much nicer-sounding La Fête Nationale), the beginning of the French Revolution. Now technically, the real beheading party didn’t begin until a few years later, Still, the guillotine has become the iconic icon of French liberty and justice.

Which is why I bring you this – iconic French composer Hector Berlioz‘s “March to the Scaffold”, the fourth movement of his Symphonie Fanstastique. Written in 1830, after two generations of political turmoil, it is a testament to the hardiness of humanity and our need for beauty in an ugly world. This Symphony is historically important because it fueled the romantic obsession of programmatic music; it also introduced an idea Berlioz called the idée fixe – a musical motif or melody which is attached to a specific thought, person, or idea. Out of the context of the whole symphony, the idée fixe won’t have much meaning when you listen to this single movement. However, that doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy it.

Programmatic music is the idea that music can convey a non-musical story or idea. Sometimes programmatic music composers can be cryptic; other times they are very specific. Berlioz is the latter! He provided this awesome, drug-inspired summary of this head-rolling movement:

Convinced that his love is unrequited, the protagonist poisons himself with opium. The dose of narcotic, while too weak to cause his death, plunges him into a heavy sleep accompanied by the strangest of visions. He dreams that he has killed his beloved, that he is condemned, led to the scaffold and is witnessing his own execution. The procession advances to the sound of a march that is sometimes somber and wild, and sometimes brilliant and solemn, in which a dull sound of heavy footsteps follows without transition the loudest outbursts. At the end of the march, the first four bars of the idée fixe reappear like a final thought of love interrupted by the fatal blow.

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.