Tax day. Need I say more?

“… in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” – Benjamin Franklin

The Art Music world is mysteriously silent on the subject of taxes. Thankfully, it is far from silent on death. So, happy tax day, and enjoy the famous Funeral March from Frederic Chopin‘s 2nd piano sonata.

William Blake‘s famous poem, The Lamb, has been set many times to music. Most of these settings evoke a beautiful pastorale scene, much like what we heard yesterday. You know – green field, sheep bouncing around, flowers, happy little trees springing up in the background.

That’s all nice, but while the poem talks about ovines, it’s not exactly pastorale – it’s a little on the cryptic / mystical side. And then there’s Blake, who had religious visions and his own independent set of Christian-based beliefs, and hated the Church of England. This poem is not a Sunday-school rhyme for kids to recite. That’s why the winner of the “best setting of this poem award” goes to John Tavener.

If the next paragraph is confusing, don’t worry; you don’t need to understand it to enjoy the music. 🙂

Just like Blake’s poem, Tavener’s music has a simple exterior and a complex interior. It opens with a single voice melody which only uses four pitches. The second voice joins, singing the same melody, but inverted – so when voice 1 goes up a major third, voice 2 goes down a major third. The effect is a “mirror image” of the melody, and it’s haunting, especially as the texture is so transparent – there is no noisy accompaniment to cover up the strange sound. After this, a new musical phrase is introduced, now employing retrograde motion – the melody is split in half, and sings 7 notes forward, then reverses and sings 7 notes backwards. Then, naturally, voice 2 enters, singing the same phrase with retrograde motion, inverted to a mirror-image of voice 1.

Is your head spinning? Here, maybe this awesome graphic will help.

or maybe not …

The music continues with more of this mirror-image effects, just enough edge to make you listen closely, but not so much as to make you turn away. Finally, the last part of the poem is stated in very simple, traditional harmony, using a minimum number of pitches and harmony. And it’s chilling.

Say the words “abstract art”, and what comes to mind? Scribbly canvases, urinals turned upside down, music that sounds like nails scraping across a chalkboard?

Abstractism isn’t a 20th century novelty, though – it comes and goes. Mosaic patterns on an ancient church floor may not have any specific meaning, but you can still enjoy looking at them. Likewise, a piece of music doesn’t have to tell a story (by words, or without words) to be beautiful. On one hand, we have Till Eulenspiegel, which, without words, tells a story; and then there’s the fabulous symphonies of Mozart, which say so much without telling any sort of story.

It’s easy for us to swallow the idea of Ludwig van Beethoven‘s “Pastorale Symphony“. What could be more natural than a musical painting of a city boy’s refreshing trip to the country? When it was written, though, it was quite contrary to popular style of the classical era, which favored abstract instrumental pieces with solid, predictable forms (even sacred music of the classical era favored compositional form over the meaning of the sacred texts – one of the reasons you’ll hear Mozart’s Solemn Vespers in concerts but rarely in a liturgical setting).

Beethoven closed the door on the classical era and ushered in the romantic; his 1st and 5th symphonies do this by breaking the typical classical forms. The revolution might be subtle to our modern ears, but the Pastorale Symphony crushes the classical era by tossing convention aside and reviving a passion for programmatic music – music that is charged with a story, meaning, and even purpose.

“Nimrod” from Elgar‘s Enigma Variations is supposedly inspired by an all-night conversation about the slow movements of Beethoven symphonies. I’ve always imagined this movement to be the core of that conversation.