Composers vs. Disney

October 29, 2016 at 12:59 pm

I can’t tell you how many people of my generation say they were first introduced to Art (“classical”) Music through cartoons. There are more than a dozen music-themed Looney Tunes shorts, not to mention the marvelous pairing of music and emotion found in Ren & Stimpy. These of course are light cartoons, based on slap-stick comedy (or, in the case of Ren & Stimpy, truly absurd comedy). Disney, on the other hand, tended to take things a little more seriously.

In the years surrounding World War II, Disney was working hard to lift the American spirit, producing music-themed feel-good movies such as Make Mine Music (containing Peter & the Wolf and an Operatic Whale) and of course, Fantasia. Unlike cartoon comedy shorts which presented anarchic musical satire, Disney presented a fairly authentic version of Art Music performances. Still, the story and music of Disney’s Peter & the Wolf is very different from Prokofiev‘s, but not insultingly so. A composer who came out worse for wear after dealing with Disney was without a doubt Igor Stravinsky, whose Rite of Spring was changed from a primitive pagan ritual into a dancing dinosaur ballet. Stravinsky said he was offered little choice whether or not to allow his piece to be used; Disney approached him and said he was going to use the Rite one way or the other – Stravinsky was offered only the choice to be paid or not.

Paul Dukas, on the other hand, died five years before Fantasia was released, and therefore didn’t have to negotiate with Disney when they decided to set his tone poem, the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, to cartoons. And, amazingly, Disney adapted neither the original story nor Dukas’ score in the film – it’s about as authentic as you can get, once you get over Mickey Mouse as a main character. Now, the image of magician Mickey Mouse can be found everywhere, and Dukas’ music is permanently associated with this performance

Facebooktwitterrss

Mozart goes to Hell

October 28, 2016 at 10:46 am

There’s a lie we like to tell ourselves: bullies are mean because they are actually insecure, depressed, unloved, and lonely. That might make us feel better when someone is picking on us, but the truth of the matter is, bullies are jerks who are living the good life at the top of the social ladder.

And that’s why there are stories like Don Juan: seducer, rapist, murderer, liar, and just about the most horrible person you can dream up. Mozart‘s operatic version of the story, Don Giovanni, begins with the main character seducing the daughter of a knight, before then killing her father – with no regrets for any of his actions. The opera concludes with a triumphant moment of justice, when the murdered knight appears as a ghost who offers Giovanni one last chance to repent – Giovanni, however, would never stoop so low. The knight grabs him by the hand and pulls him down to hell. Everybody else then casually sits around and agrees that Giovanni had what was coming to him.

Facebooktwitterrss

1) write a four-measure phrase. 2) repeat.

October 27, 2016 at 1:51 pm

A couple years ago, I was teaching a class on Musical Form & Analysis. I gave my students an assignment to take a short piece and analyze the phrase structure. For most people, their analysis looked like “A, A’, B, A'” or “A, A, B, A, C, D, C, A, B, A”. And then there was that one cheeky student who analyzed Edvard Grieg‘s “In the Hall of the Mountain King” —

A, A, A’, A’, A, A”; A, A, A’, A’, A, A”; A, A, A”’, A”’, A, A”; coda (based on A)

A lot of hip-hop, dance, and techno music is just a two-measure phrase repeated ad nauseam. Well, Grieg’s famous spooky work isn’t much more than that. It’s a four-measure phrase, grouped into a six-phrase unit which is repeated three times, with a little ending. He does two things to keep us from banging our heads against the wall in boredom: 1) in each six-phrase unit, the middle two phrases begin on a different note 2) each successive phrase gets a little bit louder and faster.

The work is from a suite of incidental music Grieg wrote for the Norwegian satirical play Peer Gynt. It’s the closest thing to humor a Scandinavian has ever created.

Facebooktwitterrss