No, that's not what I've been reading! My usual assumption is that photos never really capture clouds, but that image yesterday was so dramatic I thought I would give it a try. Not bad. Ok, now to the books.
Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis is one of the funniest books I have ever read, though perhaps you would have to have spent some time on a college campus to fully appreciate it.
The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius are on the list of books that "everyone should read" but my feeling is that while the private thoughts of one of the great Roman Emperors are certainly of historic interest and also interesting to people studying Stoicism, this is not a really important book. Much of it is just mundane stream of consciousness.
The Laurence Sterne however, while not to everyone's taste, is certainly one of the great comic novels. I have to admit, I enjoy a great comic novel more than one of those Russian tragic doorstops. Mind you, you will encounter footnotes in classical Greek, the author's preface on page 172, innumerable digressions along with a chapter that attempts to map out the digressions, an entire exorcism in Latin, chapters on whiskers and noses that are really not about whiskers and noses and a lot of discussion of hobby-horses.
Let's attempt to find a suitable envoi. One of the funniest pieces of Baroque music is "The Kidney Stone Operation" by Marin Marais. Here is a performance with narration:
For all those folks who have been missing it! Let's have a quote from Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Bk 3:
Vermin were the death of Democritus, and vermin of another sort killed Socrates.
The editor tells us that Marcus Aurelius was likely thinking of Pherecydes of Syros instead of Democritus of Abdera. The "vermin" who killed Socrates were a jury of 501 fine and upstanding Athenian citizens.
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The New York Times did a big piece on what an amazing genius Taylor Swift is, but they seem to have memory-holed it already. Oh well. However there is another piece from the New York Times worth reading: Celebrating a Buffalo-Born Titan of the French Baroque Revival. William Christie is a nearly legendary figure who was hugely important in reviving the performing traditions of the French Baroque. The article delivers a well-earned tribute:
It was late August in Thiré, the tiny town in the Vendée region of western France where Christie has spent decades restoring an abandoned 17th-century manor house and planting a spectacular baroque garden. Now he was preparing to host his annual weeklong music festival there, Dans les Jardins de William Christie, which this year was the culmination of a season-long celebration of his 80th birthday and the improbable musical empire he has built. Born in Buffalo, N.Y., Christie is venerated in France, where he played a key role in the revival of French baroque music and the reputations of composers like Lully, Charpentier, Couperin and Rameau. His inventive, vital performances showed that early music could be exciting and chic, and have sold out venues from the opera house at Versailles to the Brooklyn Academy of Music...
The Czech composer Bohuslav Martinů, the focus of this summer’s Bard Music Festival, at Bard College, had one of those voices which reveal themselves in a matter of seconds. Take the opening of his Second Symphony, from 1943, which the Orchestra Now performed on the festival’s first weekend, under the direction of Leon Botstein, Bard’s president and chief musical curator. The first violins unfurl a lilting, lightly bopping tune in D minor. Ascending patterns elsewhere in the strings blur the outlines of that governing idea. The real Martinů giveaway is an underlying buzz of activity in the piano and the harp—D-minor triads mixed with C-sharp-minor, B-flat-major, and E-flat-major ones, suggesting a rickety machinery behind the lyrical action. These and a few other basic elements recur throughout Martinů’s œuvre: curt themes, darting rhythms, tangy harmonies, glittering textures.
This is just the sort of thing that Ross does very well.
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One of the reasons I have reduced my postings is that I don't find much I want to comment on these days. Looking in all the usual places I find mostly the usual things: who died, who was appointed and who committed what sexual transgression. The news oriented sites like Slipped Disc are all about mundane events, the more scholarly sites are still beating the race/gender/colonization drums with the added spice of AI. And listeners seem to be tending towards the more soporific music. So let's listen to some non-soporific music:
Of course we have to have some Martinů. Here is his Symphony No. 2:
And just for fun, since we have never had any Martinů here before, here is the Symphony No. 4:
Oddly, Blogger simply refuses to embed that clip. Usually heard on violin and sometimes on guitar this is Bach's gussied up orchestral version of the prelude to the E major violin partita:
And finally, for the hard-core among you, Sviatoslav Richter playing an all-Schumann recital in Moscow in 1985.
St. John's College, founded in 1696 in the Maryland colony, has a great reading list. Divided up into four lists for each year from freshman to senior, it not only contains reading, but also listening with Bach, Mozart, Monteverdi, Haydn and others. I recall reading someone's opinion that a truly educated person should be as familiar with the Haydn string quartets as with Dante's Divine Comedy. Well, yes, of course!
Wow, I haven't done one of these for a long time. First up, this is what I am currently reading:
This is something I have wanted to read for a long, long time. Marcus Aurelius was the fifth of the "Five Good Emperors" of the Nerva-Antonine dynasty of the Roman Empire. The shocking thing one finds, even after reading just the first book, is that the Roman Empire during this period, 96 to 192 AD, was far better run than our contemporary democracies. As Winston Churchill averred, democracy is the worst of all systems, except for all the others. Nice quip, but, as we can see from this era of the Roman Empire, not actually true. As a philosopher manqué I have always had my misgivings about democracy. After all, it was 501 good Athenian citizens that voted to condemn Socrates to death in 399 BC, causing Aristotle to depart Athens so it would not "commit a second crime against philosophy."
Why was this era of the Roman Empire so well run? Let's let Marcus Aurelius explain with his list of things he is grateful for:
From Severus: love of family, love of truth, love of justice; ... to have conceived the idea of a balanced constitution, a commonwealth based on equality and freedom of speech, and of a monarchy which values above all the liberty of the subject...
If only we had governments that adhered to those virtues! Instead, the incentives that drive our politicians are all bad: they are constantly pressured to lie, to curry favor with financial contributors, to form partisan tribes for mutual support--and all in order to win elections. Policies are not chosen for their economic virtues, but so as to buy the votes of the citizens. There are a thousand ways this drives us towards the kind of dysfunctional politics we have today. The interesting thing about this succession of emperors is that they typically did not follow the usual rules of succession: the eldest male heir inherits the throne, but instead adopted as heir the person they felt would make the best ruler. This ended with Commodus, the natural son of Marcus Aurelius, who was a horrible ruler.
Singers of all backgrounds come here every year: fresh out of the conservatory or with five-figure fees per performance, mainly from the world of opera, but also from pop and jazz. “Our three basic principles are spontaneity, beauty, and freedom,” Paglin sums up. “These days, the voice is highly planned; natural singing isn’t cultivated, and there’s an unhealthy obsession with power and volume that generates great muscular tension.” For Brilla, the key lies in breathing: “You only need a thimbleful of air, but it must be well managed, as babies do intuitively. That was baritone Gino Bechi’s best-kept secret…”
The two sopranos behind this school made a thorough study of vocal production:
Almost simultaneously, they decided to put their singing careers on hold to retrain their voices. “We studied historical recordings, consulted specialists like Maria Carbone, and read treatises by the great masters in search of our own method,” continues Brilla, who, after consulting 27 teachers, applied for a Fulbright scholarship that allowed her to research the roots of bel canto in their place of origin, Italy. “We lived in Rome, Florence, Milan…” adds Paglin. “But it was in Osimo that we set up our own studio.” Almost three decades later, the locals of this historic hill overlooking the Adriatic Sea describe the former palazzo the pair acquired at the time as a “sanctuary of voices.”
Voice is probably the most difficult "instrument" to teach as it is part of your body and invisible to the eye.
In the Great Festival Hall was a concert by Utopia, the orchestra founded in 2022 by Teodor Currentzis. Utopia is composed of players from some thirty countries. Currentzis is a Greek Russian conductor, wizardly and individualistic (and not to everyone’s taste). He was duly on the podium for this concert. The first item on the program was a Shostakovich piano concerto—No. 2, in F.
This is less popular, or less frequently programmed, than the Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 1. Why, I don’t know. A great recording of No. 2 was made by Yefim Bronfman, with the Los Angeles Philharmonic under Esa-Pekka Salonen. Bronfman once told me that orchestras seldom request the second concerto. If they want Shostakovich, they want the first.
The soloist with Utopia and Currentzis was Alexander Melnikov, a Soviet-born pianist who studied in Moscow with a legendary teacher: Lev Naumov. Shostakovich’s second concerto ought to have a number of characteristics, including military precision, melting lyricism, and electricity. Melnikov was never less than competent—but I could have used more of what makes this concerto lovable.
He played an encore, a piece introduced to many of us by Vladimir Horowitz: Scriabin’s Poème, Op. 32, No. 1. Melnikov rendered it expertly.
After intermission, Maestro Currentzis conducted the Utopians in a Mahler symphony: No. 4 in G, sometimes known as Mahler’s “Mozart symphony,” for it has an air of the Classical. Under the baton of Currentzis—or rather, under his hands, because he goes without a baton—every part was clear. All parts were in balance. Moreover, Currentzis communed with Mahler, reflecting his spirit. (Mahler was “wizardly and individualistic” himself—also “not to everyone’s taste.”) Currentzis is a shape-shifter, conforming his body to the music, able to represent it physically, somehow. His orchestras respond.
Members of his orchestras stand while playing—excepting cellists and a few others. Does this make a difference? Well, here’s a difference, possibly: I think I hear the woodwind solos better. These players sing or pipe more directly to you.
I heard Currentzis and his orchestra in an all-Rameau program a couple of years ago and it was magical. The only time I have seen the Salzburg audience actually give a standing ovation.
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Let's end with the suitable envoi of the Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 2. This is Anna Tsybuleva with Risto Joost conducting the Wuppertal Symphony.
Yesterday, Sept. 11, was Arvo Pärt's 90th birthday and the New York Times has a fine article on him, except for the headline.
THERE IS ALWAYS an element of mystery to fame, but Pärt seems to have tapped into a kind of ur-expression in music that has a profound effect on people regardless of how much they know about it. (The effect of that has been double-edged; his works have been embraced by a New Age audience, then criticized by some cynical specialists as New Age or “holy Minimalist.”) Its spirituality is broad, recalling elements of multiple religions. Its harmonic language would be as at home in the 15th century as the 21st. This is a sound, Michael Pärt said, “without boundaries.”
The music isn’t cloyingly populist, either. If anything it is personal, devotional, a product of composing, what he called his way of “breathing in and out.” He has also been guided by the belief that “art should concern itself with the eternal and not just the current,” perhaps another source of his mass appeal.
For all its accessibility, though, Pärt’s music is difficult to perform. He has said that “it is enough when a single note is beautifully played,” but in works so stripped down and fragile, that can be a challenge to sustain, whether over a few minutes or an hour.
Interpreters have described it requiring a kind of selflessness. His works, in their clean construction and economy, resist over-expression. “We don’t want to hear the performer perform,” Hillier said. “Just doing the music is enough.”
Describing someone like Arvo Pärt as having a kind of pop star status is a typical aberration of our current culture. No, he has nothing like pop star status though a few well-known popular musicians love his music. Taylor Swift sells millions of tickets and makes billions of dollars. Arvo Pärt has a centre in Estonia devoted to him and there is a focus on his music at Carnegie Hall this season. See the difference?
Things are looking pretty bad. Just listen to Rick Beato:
Well, yes, it sounds pretty bad, but just don't listen to that AI crap. Instead I play Bach every morning. I'm just memorizing the Siciliano from the First Violin Sonata. Gorgeous!
And then there is the Wall Street Journal which I used to rely on. But these days they are just predicting doom like everyone else. Some headlines today: Lumber Prices Are Flashing a Warning Sign for the U.S. Economy, Is the U.K. a Canary in the Coal Mine for a Heavily Indebted World?, Trump’s Risky Game With the Fed. Gosh, you would hardly suspect that the markets are hitting new all-time highs.
Cassandra, by the way, was a princess of Troy, daughter to King Priam and sister to Hector. She made a deal with Apollo to gain the ability to predict the future, promising him her favors. When she went back on the promise he cursed her by ensuring that no-one would believe her prophecies. Ouch!
I just want to point out that while Rick Beato hits the nail on the head, most of what we see and hear every day is crafted to make us fearful, anxious in order to sell us newspapers, magazines, jeans and makeup. We can simply ignore all of it. And no, the oceans aren't rising.
So, really, there is no need to feel anxious or fearful or just glum. Hell, we have the antidote in Vivaldi:
On Tuesday, the Los Angeles Philharmonic announced that Salonen would be its first creative director, starting in fall 2026. Simultaneously, the Philharmonie de Paris announced that he would hold its inaugural creativity and innovation chair starting in 2027, while also taking on the role of principal conductor of the Orchestre de Paris.
“One morning, I realized that I had been a music director or something to that effect for 40 years,” Salonen said in an interview. “And I thought, maybe that’s not the only option.”
Now there's a serious commute: Paris to LA every few weeks. Mind you, less grueling in First Class.
When pop groups and rock bands practice or perform, they rely on their guitars, keyboards and drumsticks to make music. Oliver McCann, a British AI music creator who goes by the stage name imoliver, fires up his chatbot.
McCann’s songs span a range of genres, from indie-pop to electro-soul to country-rap. There’s just one crucial difference between McCann and traditional musicians.
“I have no musical talent at all,” he said. “I can’t sing, I can’t play instruments, and I have no musical background at all.”
McCann, 37, who has a background as a visual designer, started experimenting with AI to see if it could boost his creativity and “bring some of my lyrics to life.” Last month, he signed with independent record label Hallwood Media after one of his tracks racked up 3 million streams, in what’s billed as the first time a music label has inked a contract with an AI music creator.
For those who think that this is the future of music, all I want to say is, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha and refer you to the Saint-Exupéry quote.
There is something a bit funny, at any rate, about pop-music criticism, which purports to offer serious analysis of a form that is often considered (by other people, who are also, in a sense, critics) rather silly. In 1969, Robert Christgau, the self-proclaimed Dean of American Rock Critics, began writing a Village Voice column called “Consumer Guide,” in which he assigned letter grades to new albums. He took pleasure in irritating the kinds of rock-loving hipsters who “considered consumption counterrevolutionary and didn’t like grades either.” He described the music of Donny Hathaway as “supper-club melodrama and homogenized jazz” (self-titled album, 1971: D-), and referred to George Harrison as a “hoarse dork” (“Dark Horse,” 1974: C-). In 1970, in Rolling Stone, Greil Marcus, another pioneering rock critic, began his review of Bob Dylan’s “Self Portrait” by asking, “What is this shit?”
Music criticism lost its way in my view, when it became no longer possible to offer reasons why something was good, bad or simply ridiculous and when the idea of aesthetics was lost.
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How about some music? I mean, the real stuff, not artificially generated and autotuned. Here is some Archangelo Corelli.
