… I wonders where the flowers is?

The change of seasons is a magical time. We humans are completely obsessed with it, and love to draw comparisons between the earth’s seasons and the seasons of our own lives. It should be no surprise, then, that there are tons of musical compositions celebrating Spring – way more than good old Vivaldi.

Here is a short movement from “The Seasons”, a ballet by Russian composer Alexander Glazunov. Born into a wealthy family in imperial times, Glazunov’s politics and style of music went out of fashion after the 1917 revolution. Glazunov loved his country, though, and stayed in Russia for another decade, to ensure that the St. Petersburg Conservatory (arguably the most important music school in Russia) didn’t collapse amid the turmoil. He eventually settled in Paris.

The video ends abruptly. The music wasn’t written to be segmented – if you listen to the whole ballet, Spring flows seamlessly into Summer.

… And if you don’t know how, Anitra will be happy to teach you.

Anitra is a character in the Norwegian play Peer Gynt, written by Henrik Isben. The play is a satire of Norway and Norwegians, their peculiarities, their mythology, and their humor (if you can call it that.) Isben asked Norway’s composer poster-child, Edvard Grieg, to write music for the play. Later, Grieg created two suites using music he wrote for the play, which have become orchestral favorites the world around. Not too shabby for a country of fishermen, whose total population today is less than 6 million.

Hector Berlioz is his name.

To an untrained ear, his music sounds like much of the music of the Romantic Era. To a seasoned ear, he is in a class all unto himself.

I am especially fond of Berlioz’s romantic sensibilities. He writes in his memoirs about a visit to the Paris opera. During a particularly moving aria, Berlioz overheard a conversation between two men behind him:

“Good Lord, sir, calm down! Control yourself!”
“I can’t! It’s too beautiful!”
“You silly ass, don’t let the music affect you so!”
“Just leave me alone!”
“It’s only music, you fool. Get over it! Here, have a piece of this orange, it will make you feel better.”
“It’s wonderful!”
“It’s fresh and imported from Spain!”
“I was talking about the music, you nincompoop!”
“Oh, yes, the music – it’s alright.”

Soon after this, Berlioz himself begins to weep at the overwhelming beauty of the music. At the end of the aria, he is lifted from his seat by the man behind him, who is overjoyed to have found someone who was equally moved. They embrace and share a moment together, and never see each other again.