In the news this week was the death of French composer/conductor Pierre Boulez.

I come to bury Boulez, not to praise him. The good that men do lives after them; the bad is oft interred with their bones; oft interred, often buried – so let it be with Boulez. The noble Musicologists hath told you Boulez was a compositional genius: if it were so, it was a grievous fault, and grievously hath Boulez answer’d it. Here, under leave of the Musicologists and the rest — for they are honorable; so are they all, all honorable — come I to speak in Boulez’s funeral. (with apologies to Shakespeare)

Like any good music student, I listened to serialism while I was in college. If you want to know about serialism, go ahead and read about it. It’s very interesting.

That was the 1960s and 1970s. Now, in 2016, orchestras are closing left and right, and audiences continue to become more and more disconnected with Art Music. There are, no doubt, many factors that have contributed to this, but today I’m calling out the elitists of the postwar era who created a musical hierarchy akin to the Emperor’s New Clothes. If you don’t like or understand serialism, then you are clearly sub-human. If you do, welcome to the special club of perfect people.

In case you’re wondering if I’m exaggerating – first look up “Schoenberg is Dead” – an essay Boulez wrote immediately the death of Arnold Schoenberg. He trash-talks the revolutionary composer as a has-been pseudo-progressive because he wasn’t a pure serialist. Then there’s the incident where he and two serialist buddies staged a dramatic walk-out of their friend’s symphony, because he dared to write in a non-serial style. (they sat in center of the front row, to make sure everyone saw them walk out after the first few measures. Nice.)

This attitude continues to this day, under different banners – the names change, but the game remains the same. So when I write “Boulez is Dead”, what I really hope is that the snobbery he promoted dies with him. Art Music can no longer afford not to move beyond musical elitism.

Whether or not you like this piece has no reflection on your value as a human being. If you dislike it, fine; if you enjoy it, great. You can read about its supremely organized construction here.

Thanks to elementary-school music classes and “Row, row, row your boat”, canon is a musical term that is pretty well known. Even if you didn’t pay attention in music class, you probably recognize the term from going to, basically, any and every wedding ever.

You can find canons throughout all of music history. To this day, student composers write canons as part of their training. Canons range from being super simple to outrageously complex.

Cesar Franck wrote canon into many of his works – this was a bit odd for the romantic era, which tended to favor emotion and drama over form and structure. Franck’s canons, however, perfectly fit the aesthetic of the romantic era, and never sound forced or out of place. His Sonata for Violin and Piano is a stunning work and favorite of violinists & pianists (and flutists, who also lay claim to this work.)

Interestingly, Franck’s most famous composition, also with a canon, can be heard alongside Pachelbel’s, at “any and every wedding ever.”

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.