The Fine Art of Listening

The Schumanns are probably the most famous pair of married composers, and most definitely the sappiest. Romantic sensibilities simply drip from nearly every note they wrote. Robert‘s sappy high-point is probably Dichterliebe (poet’s love); Clara‘s might be her Three Romances for Violin & Piano.

Clara was an all-around musical powerhouse with an extensive performing career and a long list of compositions to boot. Thanks to good-old-fashioned-19th-century sexism (not to mention the 20th and 21st centuries), her music is overshadowed by her husband’s – though I would argue that only an expert could pass the “pepsi challenge” and tell their music apart. Even more unfortunate is the fact that her music is overshadowed by inferior male composers of her time (Jacques Offenbach, for example, was born the same year as Clara …)

Henry Purcell was long considered the greatest English composer, until the early 20th century ushered in a new era of English music (and ushered out an era of fairly poor music). Nowadays he is overshadowed by other baroque composers, but his influence lives on. His church music is still a staple of the Anglican church. His music was electronicfied (yes, that’s a word) in the movie A Clockwork Orange. The Who claims Purcell’s lush baroque harmony as an influence in their song “Pinball Wizard.” And Benjamin Britten (the most important English composer of the mid-20th century) simply adored him – so much so that Britten’s most famous composition is stolen (yes, stolen) directly from some incidental music Purcell wrote for a play. The original composition can be found here:

So you’re having an existential crisis. Naturally, the first thing you do is ask yourself, “what music should I listen to while I ponder the absurdity of my existence?”

This isn’t just melancholia – there’s plenty of music for that. And the catch-all-word “sad” simply doesn’t cover it. Maybe there’s an intense longing in your heart, but your head tells you that your longing will not be satisfied. You tried praying to God, even though Nietzsche told you God was dead. And other people are no help at all.

Don’t settle for second-rate despondent ditties – you’ve tried the rest, now try the best – Anton Webern‘s expressionism.

Webern was a member of the Second Viennese School and a student of its founder, Arnold Schoenberg. They was a group of Germanic composers in the early 20th century who worked valiantly to break away from traditional systems of tonality. Webern stands out among his fellow composers because his compositions were ultra-organized; because of this, Webern, not Schoenberg, became the inspiration for serial music movement. Serialists used mathematical structures to create pieces that left no room for foolish human errors such as emotion. Boulez, one of the champions of serialism, criticized Schoenberg for allowing a little humanity (IE romantic tendencies) into his music, whereas Webern’s is cold, stark, and empty – just like life!

If one-and-a-half minutes isn’t long enough to cover your crisis, the whole six-movement suite can be heard here.