eleanor-nude asked: I fucking love you.
Hahahahha THANK YOU. I mean to update this guy, just the holidays and shooting and the other blog have kept me so insanely busy. :c :c :c
cyanidespaceship asked: Omg, your review about composers made my day. Instant follow! And I totally laughed at the Rachmaninov part. I never thought of him as a romantic but now I guess, I think he kinda is. I like :P
Aww, thank you lovely! I’m trying to find the time to put up a new post. So nice to hear you enjoyed it though—that is kind of the point! : )
It’s Tuesday, so have another cartoon!
Also, a new post is coming this week, maybe even as soon as tomorrow…with some really awesome stuff.
You guys dig cartoons so much.
It’s cool, because I do too—the nerdier, the better.
Also, I’ve been digging the classical music cartoon trend for this blog. Let’s roll with it.
Seven. Holy seven. Sevennnnnty seven seven.
I’m maybe losing my mind a bit. Oh, but nothing terrible. Simply a minor impairment of my cognitive facilities. Not that something silly like lacking cognitive skills would stop me from writing another entry though, right? RIGHT? Yes, well, you’re wrong. Where were we? Ah yes. Music. Don’t try and change the subject. We’ve been through this already, and you just aren’t changing! I can’t discuss it anymore right now. It’s too sensitive.
Gershwin
First off, he was a Russian Jew. Can I get a AMEN?! Alright. Now, that’s been dealt with. George Gershwin died at the age of 38. Really, really young. He was also survived by his older brother Ira, who wrote the lyrics to many of George’s most famous songs. Poor Ira. Even though George died young, it’s his name that comes to mind with Gershwin, more so than Ira. Possibly his most popular work is still played today, even in commercials and movies; Rhapsody in Blue is a jaunty, jazzy trot through the end of the Romantic era. Interestingly enough, it also has some undeniable influences of the Classical era in it. The whole piece is stunning. It’s fun, jazzy, and quirky, but also beautiful and sweeping. It’s what Rachmaninov might’ve been, had he frequented a Speak Easy.
I may have a fetish for polka dots, but I swear this photo doesn’t bias me. Sort of.
One of my all time favorite works of the modern era was written by George Gershwin, and I swear it doesn’t get the attention it deserves outside of film circles. That music is An American in Paris. The few that are familiar with it probably know it from the movie of the same title, starring Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron. But that was made more than a decade after George’s death. In fact, the symphony was inspired by Georgie-Porgie’s time in Paris in the 1920s; picture Josephine Baker, LOTS of champagne, and dark lipstick. Get the feel for parties yet? That’s the American in Paris symphony in a nutshell. It’s fun as all hell, bright, vibrant, and filled with sounds reminiscent of…well…life. Which, for classical music, can be unexpected. Gershwin kicked some ass. One only wonders what he could’ve been with a longer life span.
Bottom line: It ain’t just the jammies, the guy was hot—musically speaking.
Orff
Yes, that is his name. No, I’m not barking. Well. Maybe both. But just for fun, really. Now, since Judaism is just this constant issue in classical music (composers were either Jewish or not Jewish—groundbreaking, no?) I’m going to address it with good ol’ Orffy here. Many people hate him because he was supposedly a Nazi. He could’ve been. But even being the big Jewess I am, I’m very hesitant to condemn the guy to fascist obscurity. That is, the oubliette of music has enough Nazis in it, no sense throwing someone in without all the facts.
Orff may or may not have helped the White Rose movement of anti-Nazi resistance. He definitely had guilt about not saving his resistance fighter friend from execution. So whether or not he hated Jews I can’t say. What I can say is that I can’t judge him. He had a LOT of post-war guilt, despite having not killed anyone, just as a bystander. So let’s just call him neutral, at least knowing what we know and nothing persuasive either way. Deal? Deal.
Music. Carl Orff wrote the big huge opera smash hit Carmina Burana. Remember how I really, really don’t like opera? This is an exception. I also have fond memories of techno versions of O Fortuna from being in a lesbian Shakespeare play in high school. But that’s another story. Anyway…where were we? Ah, yes! Carmina Burana is exquisite in the most atypical way. The opera and its music are almost terrifying. It’s ritualistic, medieval, and dark. Imagine Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, fast forwarded in time and with more singing. The lyrics are actually very erotically charged. So much so that the Nazi regime was hopping around nervous when it came out. Fun fact? Even today the opera has a bit of controversy as to whether or not it contains a diabolical, satanic message. That’s how haunting the chants and songs are. And I love it.
Bottom line: Not a Nazi (far as I can tell). Some serious erotic satanic music. Groovy, baby.
Grieg
I’m not going to mince words here. Grieg was a crazy fucking Norwegian. He wrote every piece of music as though he had been living in some kind of ice castle on a fjord somewhere or something. Also, his aunt was married to a violinist named Ole Bull. I shit you not. Yeah. Deal with that.
His hair eats small children.
Grieg’s music is not for the faint of heart. In fact, if you have heart problems (like I do), then don’t — for the love of Raptor Jesus — turn his music on high volume without knowing full well what you’re going to hear. Lots. Of. Loudness. Epic music, really. In the Hall of the Mountain King is one of Grieg’s works that most people recognize. Lots of booms and crashes and horns blowing very loudly (haaa, blowing horns, that sounds dirty). Of course, he has some softer work, like Anitra’s Dance, which is quite lovely. But every one of his compositions has some sense of mystery and sweeping adventure in Norway that makes you feel just *that* excited. I can’t explain it. No, I can. He was a crazy fucking Norwegian.
Wagner
…You know what? We’re gonna give Mister Wagner his *own* post. It’s a pretty hot button issue. So let’s save him for another day, very soon.
Like how I left you hanging? Still aching for more…reading about all these composers just…getting you hot and bothered, huh? Really? You want more?
WELL WAIT. STOP RUSHING GENIUS. CHRIST. :(
The next post…
…will be up this weekend.
I swear.
If it isn’t, you all have the right to throw things at me.
It’d be nice if they were edible things.
But I can’t be too picky.
meep.
I realize this is not a textual post, but I found this and thought it HAD to be shared on this blog.
Tel me truly—did you giggle?
I did. A lot.
The post of the beast.
Ha. Get it? Because it’s the sixth post. I know it’s been a while. I feel like we’ve…grown apart. I mean, maybe we just want different things, you know? What? This is a blog about music? Not a relationship? Oh. I see. Well then. Moving on! It’s not like I had high hopes anyway…I’ll just discard this…drawing I did…of our wedding day…
MENDELSSOHN!
He had extra letters in his name. Isn’t that funny? No, it isn’t. Because Mendelssohn was of Jewish heritage, but his parents renounced said heritage, and that’s kind of fucked up. But whatever. He had a cool first name. Felix. Yummy. Anyway, moving on. He had some really pretty music. He falls under the category of the early Romantic period, and you can see how a lot of composers evolved in his wake. Likely his most famous work is, interestingly, the incidental music he wrote for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
You know the song every bride walks down the aisle to since forever? Yeah, he wrote that for Midsummer. Bet you hate him now, huh? But the music actually is quite pretty. Although I find his best work to be underrated by most; Italian Symphony is pretty divine. It’s refined yet energetic, and contains strains of both the classical and the romantic. Fans of ballet music or anything from the late Romantic period will likely love it as much as I do. While the orchestration can, at times, seem a little pretentious, the buoyant energy provided in the melody is more than enough to make up for it. Thus, while Mendelssohn didn’t produce ALL amazing music, Italian Symphony is worth listening to alone.
Bottom line: JEW TRAITOR!!!!! Nice songs though.
Gottschalk.
No, I’m not trying to say GOTCHA! and failing miserably. Gottschalk was the dude’s name. And I can only imagine what kids on the playground said. Probably that he had an epic mustache. He did. Also, they probably asked if he got-chalk. Haa. Get it? Get it? Anyway.
Louis Moreau Gottschalk is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine when it comes to classical music. That being said, there isn’t anything particularly cheap or shameful about listening to his compositions. However, he doesn’t hold as high esteem as, say, Erik Satie or Debussy. Why? Well, let me start by saying my favorite collection of Gottschalk’s is called A Night in the Tropics. Yeah, I know. But it’s so fun! Most people don’t know about Gottschalk, and that’s because he was a bit like The Kinks of his time. Enjoyable, relatively well known, and successful, but not as legendary as The Beatles. But whatever. The guy was half Jew, half Creole. How awesome? So awesome.
A Night in the Tropics is not what you’d expect. That is, the title inflects some infusion of Caribbean beats and marimbas superimposed over violins. But that’s not what it is at all. Take the most celebrated piece, his tarantella. It’s a thrilling, fun, playful song that is reminiscent of both Italian festivities and just plain old…fun. (Fun as in the enjoyment, not the band Fun.) So while not depressing, dark, or foretelling of social tumult, Gottschalk is awesome to listen to, and wonderful to dance around your house to in your underwear. Not that I’d know.
Bottom line: I love me some CreJew. Or Jewole. Fun, playful, and totally what Tom Cruise would’ve danced to in his undies if Risky Business was about 100 years earlier.
Henry Purcell.
I don’t usually rock out to baroque music. Wait. Let me rephrase that. I don’t usually elegantly immerse my senses in baroque music. Mostly because I feel a lot of it lacks a powerful enough narrative, or an entrancing enough melody to keep me entertained. The sound is much more bare than later eras, and demanding me likes things lush (no alcoholic comments plskthx). Henry Purcell, however, is a good exception.
Let’s backtrack, shall we? My freshman year of college, I took a Jan-Term course in advanced choreography. The final was to create a 5-10 minute solo. But you were strongly discouraged from choreographing *to* music. So I choreographed to Shakespeare’s sonnets (excerpts of them, that is). After the dancing had largely been set, I found my music in Henry Purcell. Honestly, his work reminds me so strongly of Shakespeare’s more elegant moments that I can’t help but hear him underneath every tragedy the Bard wrote. It’s almost uncanny.
Apparently my thoughts are shared, as Purcell supplies the music for Jose Limon’s masterpiece of dance, Othello, based on the play of the same name. Funny, isn’t it? No. It’s sad. Because Othello is a depressing fucking play.
But Purcell creates gorgeous music. It’s subtle, evocative of emotions that run deep, and I find myself thinking of his music days after hearing it, pulling its strains apart in my head. And that’s why I like him. He doesn’t make me think logically about his music. But instead, it haunts my head long after the songs are over. Music like that is rare, and it’s even rarer to find music like that in the baroque era, where music was still largely very superficial. But not Purcell. His music should come with a warning label: MAY CAUSE HAUNTED THOUGHTS AND ROCOCO DAYDREAMS.
Bottom line: Oh, it’s good. It’s real good. Scary good.
Rachel’s.
If you look in the iTunes store, the name is Rachel’s. Not Rachel. Possessive form. Weird and kind of annoying at times, but it’s okay. This is the first composer you’ll find in my warbling that is from modern times. Yes, she’s still alive. And a woman. Weird, right? Vaginas can be.
I fell head over heels in love with Rachel’s when I was about 17. And I mean fell. Hard. I hit my head on the sidewalk and started bleeding everywhere, but in a really awesome and happy way. That’s how mind blowingly good her music is, and I mean that. Rachel’s infuses classical instrumentation with modern arrangement and the occasional contemporary theme. Her albums are all VERY different. And VERY amazing.
Systems/Layers, one of her later albums, is all reminiscent of urban life. But not in a disconnected way. Rachel’s draws you in, covers you in water and dirt and wind, pushes you through the subway, and then holds you close in your small apartment in the evening. Do you see where I’m going with this? It’s amazing. One of her earlier albums, Music for Egon Schiele, is absolutely, hands down one of my all time favorite albums. It’s spellbinding. It haunts the shit out of me, but in a way that’s less like Purcell, more like “SHIT THERE’S A GHOST”. Still, I love it. Her chords are just a little bit too minor to be comforting, and there’s something to be said for the skill it takes to push your listener out of their comfortable head-space. I can’t say too much more about her, because her music truly does speak for itself. I know almost nothing about the artist, which is unusual, and yet I feel like I know her intimately from her wide range of music. Such is the power of good songwriting.
Bottom line: One of my favorites. Not kidding. Go buy her shit. NOW.
Well my darlings and dears, my little pigeons and frou-frou loving tartlets. It’s time for bedfordshire! No, just kidding. But I am done with this note for the night. Try not to miss me too much. Or, you know, do miss me, and then write me love letters or text me photos of you lying in bed with an empty pillow next to you, that’s really meant for me. Because the empty composition of the photo represents the emptiness there is in your life when I’m not in it. Or, you know, don’t. That’s cool too.
