Occam’s Razor

Surprising gifts to classical music fans from rock artists

Paul McCartney is not a name one associates with classical music. In fact, simply hearing the pop star’s name associated with such a genre is likely to cause the classical music purist to recoil. “Tut tut, move along”, they are likely to tell us. “Nothing to hear there!” On the other hand, they might complain that Paul McCartney’s “classical” music amounts to a dumbing down the genre. Instead of being serious music, it is pop classical music, and thus should be avoided.

Having finished my second listen of Paul McCartney’s latest foray into classical music, Ecce Cor Meum (Behold My Heart) this classical music aficionado feels more closely aligned to Duke Ellington who once said, “If it sounds good, it is good.” Ecce Cor Meum, Sir Paul’s nine-year musical quest to pay requisite homage to his late wife and the love of his life Linda McCartney, is good. It is meticulously orchestrated and is filled with choral music that delights my middle-aged ears.

It is not only good, in my book it is classical music. To say it is not suggests that any classical music written since Vivaldi is not classical either. Classical music, like any genre of music, is bound to morph over time. If I am to dismiss Paul McCartney’s classical music, I should also dismiss Aaron Copland for brazenly inserting pedestrian Shaker hymns into his music, or diss George Gershwin for Rhapsody in Blue because of its heavy jazz influence. Heck, I should throw out my Gilbert & Sullivan collection, because of its simplicity, pervasive humor and continued popularity. It seems to some classical music purists that it cannot really be classical music unless it would make your typical pimply faced teenager immediately recoil.

One characteristic of classical music is the complexity in the variations on musical themes that unfold as one listens to it. To me this is one of the principle joys of classical music and is what truly distinguishes it from other forms of music. When I am in the classical music zone, it is much like being on a boat at sea. Each wave is a subtle but different restatement of the one you heard before, and waves of different kinds may be coming at you from different directions. Yet somehow, they interlock, like puzzle pieces. When I am in the classical music zone, even if the piece is unfamiliar, I can anticipate the next few cords, but never get it quite right. Like a detective novel, the best pieces of classical music wrap up neatly in the finale. All the tensions and variations are resolved and there is little else to do at the end other than sharply inhale and, after a live performance, applaud.

In that sense, Ecce Cor Meum may disappoint. These are subtleties of the genre that McCartney either has not fully grasped or has chosen to avoid. Nonetheless, this 57-minute work of music, broken into four parts with an interlude often surprises and delights. It suggests to me that McCartney is simply putting his stamp on classical music. It may be a bit different, but it should not be objectionable. My favorite part of Ecce Cor Meum is the second movement (Gratia) wherein Sir Paul expresses musically just how grateful he is to be the recipient of Linda’s love.

Ecce Cor Meum is both moving and profound. Linda McCartney’s death of breast cancer may have been untimely, but it had the side effect of bringing out something resembling genius from Paul McCartney. Few of us can adequately express the love we feel for our spouse, but Paul found a way through music to express his overflowing sense of love, appreciation and deep gratitude for the joy and meaning that Linda brought into his life. Essentially the work is a musical love poem for Linda. By writing it, Linda has become immortal. Moreover, the work is of sufficient quality that long after Paul has departed it will live on, to humble and delight lovers and music fans everywhere.

Ecce Cor Meum is not Sir Paul’s first work of classical music. His first foray into the genre was in 1991 when he wrote Liverpool Oratio. I became familiar with this side of Sir Paul shortly after he released Standing Stone in 1997. Standing Stone is an impressive piece of classical music too. While it is perhaps a bit more chaotic than Ecce Cor Meum it is overall an amazing work of music and well worth your time and attention. Both works suggest that Sir Paul has a fundamentally optimistic and joyful perspective on life. Both works at their core are sweet and tender. You do not often find this in music coming from my gender, thus it is noteworthy when it occurs.

Unlike George Gershwin, Paul McCartney had no training in classical music. In fact, Paul has never learned to write music! This makes all of his music, but particularly his classical music, all the more remarkable, since he has to work closely with a transcriber. It also explains why his classical music upsets more than a few in the genre. However, free of the constraints that come with classical music training, Sir Paul is able to do things with classical music that would otherwise be taboo. In that sense, he is liberating classical music, and perhaps sowing the seeds for a future revival of classical music.

Paul McCartney is not the only pop star who has made the foray into classical music. More than one rock star has borrowed, in some cases quite heavily, from classical music or have written their own classical music. Others more learned than I can point to numerous examples. Two that I am aware of include Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson. Keith Emerson wrote an impressive work of classical music thirty years ago when Emerson, Lake & Palmer were nearing their break up. In Works, Volume 1, Emerson records a remarkable piano concerto, Piano Concerto No. 1. So that it does not get lost, I have included this link (17 MB, WMA) for your listening enjoyment. I hope that it inspires you to pick up the CD. As far as I am concerned, the rest of the CD is largely worthless, since I am neither a Greg Lake nor a Carl Palmer fan. I have looked for other classical works by Keith Emerson, but this seems to be a one-time wonder.

If you have examples of others known for rock or pop music that have turned out classical music, please leave a comment. I along with others would probably appreciate the opportunity to sample some of these odd delicacies.

June 24th, 2007 at 12:36pm Posted by Mark | The Arts | 3 comments

Tower Records: Death by Internet

Retailers come and go. So the passing of yet another retailer should not bother me at all. Yet somehow today, when I passed the Tower Record store here in Fairfax, Virginia and saw the giant “Going Out of Business” and “Everything Must Go!” signs in the windows, I felt both sad and nostalgic.

Tower Records was a nationwide music retailer with a counter culture attitude and a huge selection of music. It always felt avant garde. You knew, even if you were in the classical music section of the store (which was typically walled off by high glass walls) that the clerk at the counter probably had a stud through his tongue and piercings through his ears or lips. He or she was probably dressed in clothes from Hot Topic. If there were counter culture newspapers in the area, they would be in a rack near the checkout counter. It was a “record” store with a nonconformanist attitude.

It is tempting to suggest that its name killed it. Vinyl records, except for the few who regale in being retro, went out of fashion in the 1980s. Despite being hip, Tower Records never bothered to change its name to Tower CDs and DVDs. It would be understandable if the latest generation just passed by the store. They could credibly ask, “What the heck is a record anyhow?” Today’s generation grew up on CDs, not 33 1/3 RPMs. (”What’s an RPM?”) Not surprisingly, it was this latest generation that killed Tower Records. They grew up in an Internet age. Once the Internet’s bandwidth and data speed problems were conquered, there was no need to go and buy music anymore. In fact, paying for music became old fashioned. Instead, you downloaded Napster, or Kazaa, or most recently, BitTorrent, found the music you wanted and generally did not pay a dime. This was much less expensive, and more convenient than going to a “record” store where you would shell out $15 to $20 for a compact disc just to get a song or two by the artist that you really wanted. That such fire sharing was in most cases technically illegal only made it more alluring.

It was not the “record” in Tower Records that killed it. It tried to keep up with the times by creating its own online web site, where you could choose from an Amazon.com like selection of music. No, it was the Internet that killed Tower. Try as it might, it could not adapt to this new paradigm.

I feel nostalgic about this transition. When I needed music, Tower Records was my destination of choice. I knew I would often pay $5 more for a CD than I would at a place like Best Buy. Yet I also knew that if I were looking for something eclectic, it would not be at the Best Buy anyhow.

I should have seen it coming. Over the last few years, I had been less and less in the Tower Records habit. This was mainly because I am one of a dying breed of classical music aficionados and their classical music department kept shrinking. It used to take up two aisles, and I could also find an extensive opera collection against the back wall. Also along the back wall was the compulsory copy of the Schwann Catalog of Classical Music. You could thumb it and find every recording ever made of the 1812 Overture. If you wanted some obscure 20-year-old recording, there was a good chance you could find it at Tower Records.

Tower learned that its money was not made selling classical music. What a shame. I could spend an hour or two very blissfully in its classical music aisles while some gorgeous classical music, often an aria by a famous soprano, played through the overhead speakers. Then it became one aisle. Then half an aisle. Then they stopped playing the classical music altogether because the back of the store had morphed into something else. Then the DVDs arrived and took up the front part of the store. They were followed by their eclectic but very limited selection of mostly odd books. And they were followed by the naughty but not too naughty adult videos and skin magazines.

All killed by the Internet. Today as I walked the halls of my local Tower Records, likely for the last time, a third of the stock was gone. What remained had justly been left behind. The good stuff had been quickly sold. The classical music that remained took up a single rack, and it was all mediocre stuff. What was left of the Rock Music section consisted largely of groups you have never heard about. Of those of whom you have heard, there were plenty of recordings representing them at their worst. Tower Records was dead. The clerk did not have a stud through his tongue. The music coming from overhead was still hard ass rock and roll, but the few patrons like me wandering its aisles were simply looking for bargains. In reality, there was none to be found. What music that remained was not worth spending any money on. The patrons were not the counter culture teens or young adults I remembered. They were older, harried looking adults, the type I see at garage sales, not at Tower Records.

While Tower Records is dead, retail music has not wholly disappeared. Borders Books has a fine selection of music. Arguably, for the last few years its classical collection has been the best in my area. Yes, while its selection feels voluminous, it cannot compare with Tower Records in its prime. Moreover, Borders is a soulless place. I never felt that way about Tower Records. In its prime, going to Tower Records was like going to Starbucks is for many today. It was as much a destination and a place to feel at home with your own kind (the eclectic music lover) as it was a place to shop. It had, in its own quirky way, a sort of ambience. Now, the Internet has put a stake through its heart.

I wonder if Vinton Cerf, the inventor of the Internet, is also a Tower Records fan. I wonder, as his invention of the late 1960s enters its full flowering and makes things like this blog possible, whether he is shedding a tear that his invention killed such a wonderful business and destination.

Tower Records is gone, mourned and appreciated, but should never be forgotten.

December 8th, 2006 at 08:31pm Posted by Mark | The Arts | no comments

Don’t snub Alan Hovhaness

No one will accuse Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000) of not being a prolific composer. This 20th century American composer lists 415 opuses, including 63 symphonies to his life’s work. He was a contemporary of more famous American composers like Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copland. In many ways he may have played the role of Antonio Salieri, whose works (at least according to the movie Amadeus) were overshadowed by the vastly more talented Amadeus Mozart.

That so little of his music has been recorded might suggest that much of it is mediocre. I cannot claim to be a judge on that. I have just three CD’s of his music. It is unlikely that his mediocre works would make it to plastic. I do know that after having sampled his better-known works these last few years, his music can at times be brilliant. It is also usually inventive, in way that so much modern classical music is not.

I happen to be fans of both Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copland. Bernstein invested most of his talent in conducting music rather than writing it. Perhaps Bernstein’s works are so good because he had so much time to polish his music. His musical Candide first appeared on Broadway in 1956. In 1989, shortly before he died, he was still perfecting it with his “Final Revised Version” of Candide. Aaron Copland also created some wonderful American masterpieces including arguably the most admired work of American classical music, Appalachian Spring. I am a huge Copland fan and have most of his works. While Copland’s works were far more numerous than Bernstein’s were, many of Copland’s lesser-known works deserve their obscurity.

According to Wikipedia, both Bernstein and Copland snubbed Hovhaness. “I can’t stand this cheap ghetto music,” Bernstein reportedly said at Tanglewood upon hearing a recording of Hovhaness’s first symphony. Sitting near him, Aaron Copland talked loudly through it while a humiliated Hovhaness sat nearby. Perhaps Hovhaness’s lanky figure, chiseled features and Armenian background also contributed toward their low opinion of him.

Mysterious Mountain is perhaps Hovhaness’s best-known work of music. Yet there is much more to enjoy about his music. If nothing else, Hovhaness’s music defies easy categorization. Its breadth can be sampled by listening to both CDs in Hovhaness Collection, Volume 2. What an odd collection this is! It starts with one of his more recent works that marks an event that even I can recall, the 1980 explosion of Mount St. Helens. Mount St. Helens, Symphony No. 50 starts with a movement celebrating the pristine and picture perfect Spirit Lake, which straddles Mount St. Helens, before the explosion forever changed it. It then moves through the eruption itself, which through innovative drum work convincingly captures the awesome power of the eruption. It is shortly followed by another oddity, And God Created Great Whales that includes the sounds of whales mixed in with the orchestration. Following it is Mysterious Mountain, which while good is somewhat overrated. The highlight for me is a track on the second disk: Alleluia and Fugue for string orchestra, Godly music worthy of Bach himself.

I was turned onto Hovhaness one Saturday when I was driving around doing chores. I was listening to WETA-FM. This was when it was still largely a classical music station. On Saturday afternoons, the station often played music that would never get a spin during the week. What I heard was the last movement of Hovhaness’s Symphony No. 3. For a moment, I thought I was hearing an undiscovered work of Aaron Copland. It did not take too much listening to realize that this was too thematically rich to be Aaron Copland. I remember pulling off the road into a shopping center and sitting in my car waiting for it to end before continuing my chores. It defies easy categorization and blends many themes at once, including an undercurrent of Native American chants.

While there are many Hovhaness recordings available, they can be difficult to find even in the more discerning music outlets. I had to order Symphony No. 3 off the web. Moreover, many of the recordings are by second or even third-rate orchestras. The KBS Orchestra in South Korea, for example, performs Symphony No. 3. In spite of these imperfections, it is a memorable symphony. It deserves to be recorded by a first class orchestra and conductor someday.

If you spurn Alan Hovhaness, you may regret your choice. While I have just dipped into his music, I am still intrigued. If nothing else, his music is routinely adventurous. When you sometimes do not expect it, a piece can soar into the stratosphere. I will be adding more to my Hovhaness collection in the years ahead.

February 27th, 2006 at 09:11pm Posted by Mark | The Arts | no comments

The Best Work of American Classical Music

There is so much wonderful classical music out there that it is hard to pick favorites. Nonetheless there seems to exist a rough consensus among the classical music aficionados that Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in E Minor is the best classical music that has ever been written. It has certainly withstood the test of time. Some might argue that Handel’s Messiah should have the honor. Arguably Messiah is perhaps the best work of classical music known to the masses. And it is a lot more hummable than Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. (Ode to Joy from the fourth movement is familiar to lots of people.) About once a year or so I slip the Ninth into my CD player. Although brilliant, played anymore than that it gets hard to appreciate its brilliance. My only wish is that someday Ode to Joy would be sung in English, so we unwashed Americans could better appreciate it. But I guess that would be sacrilege to classical music purists.

Pondering great classical music, I was wondering if there is a work of American classical music that critics could agree is our best work. I suspect if pressed many scholars would pick a work by Aaron Copland, most likely his Appalachian Spring. There is no question that Aaron Copland writes quintessential American music. After you have heard a number of Copland pieces you can almost always hear something else he has written by him and say, “Yep, that’s Copland”. While there are many American classical music composers out there, only a few have any name recognition whatsoever. Some others that come immediately to mind for me include Leonard Bernstein, Charles Ives and Alan Hovhaness. Your short list of American composers is likely different than mine.

But the best work of American classical music? That’s a tough question to answer. While I personally am drawn to the music of Aaron Copland I am often scorned for my choice. I like Appalachian Spring so much I had it played at my wedding. But while it was likely the best thing that Copland ever wrote, Copland was not an inventive composer. In fact he routinely stole snippets of American music. The main theme to Appalachian Spring, for example, is the well-known Shaker hymn, “Tis a gift to be simple.” Copland excelled at finding excellent bits of the authentic American sound and weaving them together into larger orchestral works that amplified and extended these sounds.

A “best” work though has to stand the test of time. That’s a bit of a problem for American classical music since, by European standards at least, we are still a new country. Most countries though have one composer that stands out. When you hear his music (and it’s almost always a he) you say you understand that country. For example, Jean Sibelius gives us the sound and spirit of primal Finland. Who though could carry this mantle for American classical music and also create works of music that are uniquely their own?

The answer came to me last night as I heard music drift upstairs from the TV room. My daughter Rosie was deep into TV. I don’t know what she was watching but the music was unmistakable. It was George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. Suddenly it clicked into place. This single work is quintessentially American, wholly unique and as wonderful and amazing in its own way as Sibelius’s Finlandia is to the Finnish and Ralph Vaughn Williams’s Greensleeves is to the English. And Rhapsody in Blue is perhaps the most performed work of American orchestral music in American and in the rest of the world. And of course it is really, really good.

I remember fondly my first exposure to Gershwin. While I have an appreciation for jazz, it is not a genre that I have done more than sample. Sometime in the late 70s when I was finally on my own I wandered into a record store (this being in pre CD days) and found a two record collection of his best-known music. Of course it was just his works for piano and orchestra. You had to read the liner notes to realize he had a whole other career working with his brother Ira to create show tunes and popular music. He seemed an unlikely person to call a classical composer. Most people of his time saw him as a jazz composer. Perhaps Rhapsody is both jazz and classical music. But at 22 I remember thinking, “This is amazing music.” It is still true today.

George Gershwin is an odd selection for best American classical composer. Much of his music would be considered trite stuff. Fluffy musicals like Of Thee I Sing seems like Gilbert and Sullivan operettas: fun to go to but empty of content or meaning. Steeped in the jazz era, and the Ragtime music that preceded it, Gershwin drew inspiration from many authentic forms of American music, including Negro spirituals. So like Aaron Copland he heard authentic American music and integrated them into his own music. Unlike Aaron Copland however they were largely inspiration for the creation of new music. In Rhapsody in Blue it all came together. The work itself is rather short. The pace moves from sedate to frantic and journeys in places in between. But there is no confusing it with stuffy classical music from Europe. It is a work that is fully of the energy of the American experience. It often feels almost giddy. And now the music is almost ubiquitous. I find it woven into television commercials for airlines.

Gershwin’s list of pure classical music is rather thin. Concerto in F and An American in Paris are his best known other works. Both are wonderful. But it is Rhapsody in Blue that endures and captures our soul. So for me, it is America’s Finlandia. I see it as not just our most recognizable piece of American music, but also as our best work of classical music.

What do you think is the best work of American classical music?

February 13th, 2005 at 11:03am Posted by Mark | The Arts | no comments