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.

You’ve heard Carmina Burana before – everyone has, thanks to the opening chorus. People can’t get enough of this one. You can find it in movies, video games, commercials, sports events, and flash mobs (I was there!) It’s an awesome romp through the carnal pleasures of spring – some of the poems are quite erotic, some philosophical, some are brutal mockery, some are just plain weird, and yes, there are even fart jokes.

Poor Carl Orff – he was 40 when he composed Carmina (1936), and after it became so popular, he asked his publisher to destroy all his previous work, so that Carmina would be the beginning of his career, not the midpoint (or end?). The work was so well received that the Nazis allowed it to be performed, even though they disapproved of the erotic subject matter. The work’s popularity might be attributed to: 1) most movements follow simple song formats which are melodic and easy to remember, which was in stark contrast to much of the Art Music written at the time 2) a HUGE orchestra and chorus make this rock! 3) who doesn’t like a good dirty poem now and then?

This movement from Carmina is a poem about spring. I put “merry” in quotes because, if you didn’t know the text, you might think it was about something else – something much more somber and serious.

In the late 19th century, Richard Strauss became the champion composer of tone poems – musical pieces which illustrate non-musical ideas, such as poetry, stories, or even philosophy. Tone poems can be representational (like Berlioz‘s March to the Scaffold, in Symphonie Fantastique) or abstract (most of Also Sprach Zarathustra); you can listen carefully for specific events in the story portrayed, or just sit back and enjoy the music.

Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks is a representational tone poem – Strauss has taken a number of scenes from Till’s life and set them into easily recognizable sections.

Wait … you don’t know who Till Eulenspiegel is? Let me “Till” you …

Till Eulenspiegel is pretty easy to sum up – he’s a wily trickster who loves to play jokes on everybody. I’d also recommend reading his history – especially the origin of his name and his *ahem* crappier tricks (not for children! or maybe, more appropriate for children …). Like many tricksters, he is tolerated for a time, and then despised as people tire of his foolishness.

The work begins with a legendary musical statement by the strings that supposedly says “once upon a time” in German. We then hear the merry prank theme in the horn – easy to recognize, and returns often. Till is represented by the Eb Clarinet – a squeaky little thing that should never have been invented – which represents the goofy character perfectly. We hear a number of his tricks: knocking things over in the market (3:07), dressing up as a priest (7:06), chasing after women (8:43). Eventually he is caught and sentences to death (12:27), pleads for his life a couple of times (12:43 & 13:00). We think he has died (14:15), but in the end, he escapes! (15:31)