Throughout history there have been numerous female composers; their place in society prevented nearly all of them to remain obscure and their music unheard. Even with all the progress made in modern society, women composers (living and dead) still are unjustly considered second-class. Just consider this – the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra did not accept female musicians until … ready for it? … 1997.
1997! Seriously?
It took them that long to join the 20th century?!?!
I need not go into great detail on this issue because there are plenty who already have done it far better than I can. What I can do is encourage you to listen to Clara Schumann. (Clara’s husband, by the way, was also a composer. Not surprisingly, his Wikipedia article is longer – but not by much.) In a way, she is the figurehead for the advancement of women composers. Her writing was so good, so much better than most of the schlock that was being pumped out by many of her male contemporaries, that she simply could not be ignored. And since her, things have been steadily improving for female musicians and composers, albeit slowly.
The word Scherzo is Italian for “I joke” or “I jest”. It’s also a very common title for the second or third movement of a symphony. (a movement is a complete musical piece that serves as a part of a larger musical work – for example, you might say “The Fellowship of the Ring” is the first movement of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy.) Typically, a scherzo is in a very fast triple meter, which gives a musical character of lighthearted skipping. Perhaps it’s this jolly, carefree, dance feeling that gives these movements their name. I’ve also heard a theory that the “joke” of the scherzo is that it’s actually a minuet played so quickly that nobody could actually dance it (minuet movements were popular in symphonies before they were ultimately replaced by the scherzo.)
Joke or not, they are fun to listen to, and yes, they definitely make you want to skip around.
Ludwig van Beethoven needs no introduction. This Scherzo is from one of his most-loved symphonies, no. 7.
Today’s piece was selected mainly so I could use that million-dollar pun in the title.
Orchestral instruments notoriously get used in uncreative ways: the trumpets always play the fanfares; the flutes play the part of dancing sprites; the basses always play, well, the bass line. The truth of the matter is, any top-knotch player is capable of a broad range of sounds and styles on his/her instrument. Trumpets can be sweet and lyrical; flutes can be aggressive and grizzly; and basses … well, they really do stick to the bass line, with few exceptions.
So when was the last time you thought, “I want to hear a beautiful instrumental aria … on the Bassoon!” Let me go ahead and guess – never. The bassoon is that bumbling bedpost of an instrument, the one who plays the Grandfather in “Peter and the Wolf“, the one that Stravinsky gave the awkward opening motif in “The Rite of Spring.” Could it really be suitable for a lovely lyric aria? Samuel Coleridge-Taylor thought so! Prepare to fall in love all over again … with the Bassoon!
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