The Unanswered Question is probably Charles Ives‘ most famous composition. It’s equally a philosophical statement as it is a work of art. While that may sound simple, I think it’s actually quite a compositional feat. Ives has written a remarkably transparent composition that clearly conveys his philosophical idea. Compare this piece to Strauss‘ Also Sprach Zarathustra, written only a decade before, which merely paints the mood of Nietzsche‘s book, and fails to put forth a logical argument or statement of any kind. Meanwhile, Ives’ work is perfectly clear.***

[SPOILER ALERT – skip this paragraph and listen to the piece if you want to hear it for yourself. If you want some hints, read on.] Three instrumental voices create the musical landscape. The strings, representing eternity, play slow, beautiful music. The lone trumpet asks its question: “what is the meaning of existence?” Dissonant winds provide the answer, which does not satisfy. The question is asked again and again, and the answer becomes more complicated, but never satisfactory. In the end, two things remain: the question, and eternity.

*** That is to say, I believe the meaning of the music is clear as long as the audience knows the title of the piece. If a person heard this work without knowing the title, there is a chance s/he might understand the deeper meaning, but it’s certainly less likely.

Donkeys are universally goofy. Their iconic braying has inspired composers to set “hee haw” in a number of works. There’s the amorous braying in Mendelssohn‘s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream“. There’s some good mockery in Saint-Saen‘s “Carnival of the Animals“, where the composer draws a connection between these dumb beasts and “people with long ears” … IE, music critics. There’s a charming Christmas tale by Rutter, “Brother Heinrich’s Christmas” about a donkey who wants to sing in the choir, and ends up contributing a well-timed “hee haw” to cleverly complete the carol In Dulci Jubilo.

But by far the smartest musical Hee-Haw is American composer Ferde Grofé‘s Grand Canyon Suite, which has a whole movement based on this delightful “ass-motif“. This movement perfectly paints a bumpy donkey ride in the beautiful American western landscape.

It’s hot … as in Sahara desert hot, except with humidity that makes it feel like Satan’s armpit. But if it’s going to be Sahara hot, we may as well spend A Night in Tunisia …

This jazz standard was written by Dizzy Gillespie in 1941, and quickly became a well known standard. The exotic, sweltering sound is woven by a funky bassline and a repeating chord progression which uses a jazz “trick” of substituting an expected chord with the tonality a tritone away (in this case, we want to hear A, we get Eb instead – this interval A-Eb is known as a tritone, or the “devil’s interval”). Also, an Eb chord in a D minor piece implies a Phrygian mode, which is a scale we commonly associate with the “exotic” lands of the African Mediterranean or middle east. So, the Eb chord is doing double duty: exoticism AND devilish trick. And we like it.