Henry Purcell was long considered the greatest English composer, until the early 20th century ushered in a new era of English music (and ushered out an era of fairly poor music). Nowadays he is overshadowed by other baroque composers, but his influence lives on. His church music is still a staple of the Anglican church. His music was electronicfied (yes, that’s a word) in the movie A Clockwork Orange. The Who claims Purcell’s lush baroque harmony as an influence in their song “Pinball Wizard.” And Benjamin Britten (the most important English composer of the mid-20th century) simply adored him – so much so that Britten’s most famous composition is stolen (yes, stolen) directly from some incidental music Purcell wrote for a play. The original composition can be found here:

So you’re having an existential crisis. Naturally, the first thing you do is ask yourself, “what music should I listen to while I ponder the absurdity of my existence?”

This isn’t just melancholia – there’s plenty of music for that. And the catch-all-word “sad” simply doesn’t cover it. Maybe there’s an intense longing in your heart, but your head tells you that your longing will not be satisfied. You tried praying to God, even though Nietzsche told you God was dead. And other people are no help at all.

Don’t settle for second-rate despondent ditties – you’ve tried the rest, now try the best – Anton Webern‘s expressionism.

Webern was a member of the Second Viennese School and a student of its founder, Arnold Schoenberg. They was a group of Germanic composers in the early 20th century who worked valiantly to break away from traditional systems of tonality. Webern stands out among his fellow composers because his compositions were ultra-organized; because of this, Webern, not Schoenberg, became the inspiration for serial music movement. Serialists used mathematical structures to create pieces that left no room for foolish human errors such as emotion. Boulez, one of the champions of serialism, criticized Schoenberg for allowing a little humanity (IE romantic tendencies) into his music, whereas Webern’s is cold, stark, and empty – just like life!

If one-and-a-half minutes isn’t long enough to cover your crisis, the whole six-movement suite can be heard here.

Sometimes my choice of music for this blog is sometimes based on the date or event (especially for important days, like Saturnalia), sometimes based on what is playing in my head, and sometimes based on a completely random train of thought. Today, it’s the third – a random train of thought.

Since this particular thought-train is perhaps a bit dark, I should explain. 9/11 has been on my mind (and all over the news), and I couldn’t help but ponder the events of that day. Acts of terrorism, mass death, airplanes, suicide attacks … and then, without intending it, I remembered a piano piece titled “Suicide in an Airplane”, by Leo Ornstein. Tasteless, yes, but that’s how the brain works sometimes. So that’s why today’s piece is by Ornstein – but a different piece, titled “Solitude”, which I hadn’t known before today.

Ornstein skyrocketed to fame in the 1910’s with his futurist piano works. Futurism was meant to bring about a sort of industrial revolution in music – shunning the old musical ways or traditional instruments and singable melodies, and looking to machines and factories for inspiration. Hence, “Suicide in an Airplane” sounds like a plane motor (propeller – this was 1918, after all) in takeoff. However, after this 15-minutes of fame, he returned to a conservative musical style, composing all the way into his 90s. “Solitude” is a lovely piece and a return to the impressionistic style found in Debussy‘s earlier piano works.