The final hour. The sun has risen on a grey, rainy day in Minneapolis; as my girlfriend's alarm went off at 6 a.m. to wake her up for work, I bumped my playlist to the beginning of Disc 22 and was greeted with the galloping overture to Bizet's It's a bummer to roll the clock back and leave off at a date that was still nearly 30 years ago (1987, the year of Glass's Violin Concerto), but Deutsche Grammophon has grouped all the set's opera selections onto the final three discs. I feel like I've just come up to the edge of the Grand Canyon and done a 360: the view is incredible, but the delight is in the details. While film music hasn't traditionally been considered "classical music," that's rapidly changing as even declared classical fans admit that some of the best and most beloved living composers have made their lives in the movies. Just This set doesn't include one single composition by a woman. (This one was on that Time-Life sample disc, too. Like "Impressionism," Minimalism isn't a label that's always been embraced by its supposed purveyors, but it's apt as a description of their shared inspiration — in this case, repetitive, cell-like structures.The three names on this disc are well-chosen — though some, probably including John Adams himself, would have booted him in favor of Terry Riley. 94; not necessarily because it's the best, but because it's well-known due to its "surprise" timpani hit in the second movement.
(Granted, he lived for six years after finishing these two movements, so it's not as if the rug was totally pulled out from under him. Created from the legendary Deutsche Grammophon Catalogue, The History of Classical Music in 24 Hours is a collection that can spark a life-long interest in classical music. For many, this repertoire is the quintessence of the Romantic Era: passionate yet restrained, epic yet intimate, the pure personal expression of one player commanding the keys of an instrument the size of a Mazda.What's better than a virtuosic soloist? Then comes Beethoven's mighty Fifth (in a live recording by Bernstein and the Vienna Phil), and the At 2:30, I'm conducting a phone interview for a story I'm writing; the person on the other end of the line may wonder why classical concertos are playing softly in the background.The timing is unfortunate, since this isn't at all background music: solo instrumentalists step to the fore as Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven advance their art while making use of the developing technical capabilities of the instruments at their disposal.The soloists here have more freedom to let it rip than their Baroque counterparts did, but the stakes are getting even higher: tonight, I'll be hearing two full disc of virtuoso music from the Romantic Era.Disc 7 takes us on "A Trip to France," but not for waterlilies and baguettes: for a nightmare vision of the scaffold, courtesy of an impassioned Hector Berlioz. Dishes: in the drying rack. Really, some day I should sit down with Laundry: in the washer. I don't mean These men were writing well over a century ago, creating music that conformed to rules and traditions that in some ways are deeply familiar (tonal structure, for example, that forms the backbone of Western music) and in other ways are challenging to grasp for someone who's not intimately versed in this type of composition.These composers in particular, of course, were among the great geniuses of their time — meaning that their music works on many layers, some of which are right on the surface and others that seem to be forever slipping away. That said, it's hard to complain about a collection of rip-roaring overtures — especially at 6 a.m.We've officially reached the sing-along-in-the-shower portion of our program...I mean, unless you're also into lieder karaoke with the loofah.It's tempting to think of the greatest hits from the likes of Here we are.
The critics are more fascinated with Ives, who showed a brilliant idiosyncrasy in his melding of American music with European traditions; but it's Barber who wrote the saddest piece of music ever (a BBC poll says so): the (Speaking of Americans, you know who's not anywhere to be found on this set? The I caught myself air-conducting for the first time while walking to my car, iPad under my arm, to drive home. Is the music happy?
Were they trying to do the musical equivalent of what Monet was up to on canvas around the same time? Hear it on WPR's All Classical Network and as part of the overnight service on the News & Music Network. 1 In F Major, BWV 1046: I. Allegro. It's inspiring, but also a little scary.