Misleading title – the jury is still out on who wrote Dracula‘s favorite Halloween piece, the Toccata and Fugue in d minor by Johann Sebastian Bach. An amazing amount of research has been done trying to solve the great mystery of its composer.

To sum up the debate:

• The work’s style is … strange. The toccata is very free-form, similar to the earliest immature works of the young master, and nothing at all like his mature works. The fugue is in four voices, but most of the time, only three sound (uncharacteristic of Bach.) It plays more like a violin piece than an organ work.
• The earliest copy of this piece was written around 1740, by an unimportant organist named Ringk. (Most music at this time was copied by hand, so it’s not so strange that a work by Bach would have been hand-copied by another musician.) People have deeply studied Ringk’s handwriting in order to pin down the approximate date of this single copy.
• It would be possible that Bach wrote the piece as a young man, and Ringk copied it when Bach was old, but then the question is, why did he choose this piece to copy? Why not something else, something better?
• Could Bach have copied this piece into his own library, only to have Ringk later copy it from him, falsely attributing the work to the great master?

Whatever the history, and whoever wrote it, this work has become Halloween staple. A gothic organ sound playing its twisted, dark harmony can chill your soul; the opening motif catches your attention immediately. No wonder hearing this piece brings up images of Dracula, or maybe the Phantom of the Opera. Its appeal has helped it overcome its compositional flaws; it has been arranged for all sorts of solo instruments (most famously for piano, but also violin and guitar) and ensembles (most famously for orchestra, but also saxophone choir (because, why not)).

And then there’s this Jupiter.

The last symphony Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart composed stands as a monument to his compositional genius, and as a pillar of regret to the fact that he died so young. This symphony looks ahead to Beethoven and the romantic era in general. With its scope, complexity, size, and orchestration, we hear a Mozart who was maturing; many might even mistake this symphony for one of Beethoven’s. But unlike Beethoven, Mozart never gets “lost” in his composition; he’s always completely in control, whereas Beethoven had to occasionally resort to cheap tricks to get him out of a tough spot.

But back to Jupiter. So is this about the planet, the Roman god, or both?

Neither. It was just “Symphony No. 41 in C major” when Mozart wrote it. Like Haydn‘s “Clock Symphony” and Beethoven‘s “Moonlight Sonata“, it was named long after it was composed, and not by the composer.

This is the fourth and final movement of the symphony, which contains some incredible fugue writing – enough so that even Bach would blush!

The Hanukkah story comes from the Biblical books of First and Second Maccabees. If you don’t know the story, and have about three hours to spare, I’d highly recommend (besides reading these short books) going to a performance of George Frederic Handel’s “Judas Maccabaeus.” Unlike Handel’s “Messiah,” (which gets plenty of plays this month), this oratorio tells like a regular story with a plot. While it isn’t exactly fast-actioned, it does has dramatic elements – something which was easy for a composer of over 40 operas!

The most famous section of Judas Maccabaeus is “See, the Conquering Hero Comes“: