The sweet power of music

[vaneramos]

Several times recently I have commented that I don't cry easily. I had forgotten one thing that does it to me.

My stereo receiver died several years ago. Sometimes I tune in CBC Radio Two online or Toronto's other Classical station, CFMX, but the dial-up connection is annoyingly unreliable. If I want to listen to a CD I play it on my computer, but without radio I never hear anything new. The truth is I find music distracting, at least the kind I like best. Classical music is an experience that involves my whole mind and body. Except on the infrequent occasion that I dive headlong into some housework, I rarely listen at home.

This morning was one of those occasions. I wanted some entertainment while fixing my breakfast and surfed onto CBC. First up was the nostalgic, self-deprecating humour of Stuart McLean on Vinyl Cafe.

At noon on Saturdays one of my old favourite radio programs comes on. Sound Advice (hmm, the host is a cutie), a critical guide to new Classical recordings, has aired for some 20 years or longer. It's a bad program to listen to unless I'm ready to face the temptation to spend money.

Rick Phillips came on and introduced the first track for review. Next thing, I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

This emotional trigger had slipped my mind. It happened last birthday when Sylvie used her student discount to take me to see the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. I hadn't heard a live performance in years. It consisted of core repertoire: Brahms' Second Symphony, one of my favourites, and Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto with Naida Cole. I had forgotten how live performance brings orchestral music alive, and cried through most of the concert. It doesn't require anything particularly sentimental.

Beauty is enough. Once Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf came on the car radio. I hadn't heard it for a few years. When Peter's theme began in the strings—optimism and bravado—I started to gush.

JESSICA: I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

LORENZO: The reason is, your spirits are attentive:     

For do but note a wild and wanton herd,

Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,

Which is the hot condition of their blood;

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,

Or any air of music touch their ears,

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,

Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze

By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet

Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;     

Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature.

~Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice

The music that moved me was unusual, in fact it is rarely performed: the aria "Nuit resplendissante" from the opera Cinq Mars by Charles Gounod. It's a dreamy piece, and was performed excellently by the singer and orchestra. A few bars into it I was mush. This is particularly unusual for something I have never heard before. Phillips awarded five stars to the recording: Czech mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kožená performs French Arias with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra and Marc Minkowski, from Deutsche Grammophon. I had to stop what I was doing, sit still and listen to the whole thing with my usually-impassive chest heaving, trying to quell my frustration on several occasions when the connection briefly blinked out.

I have never heard of Kožená either, but she has a wonderful clear voice. The program went on to review Watercolours with music of Lars-Erik Larsson by one of my favourite mezzos, Anne Sofie von Otter, who has a darker tone. apel might have been interested to hear some of Phillips' comments: "There are many similarities between Swedish culture and ours." He referred to the Northern climate, the important influence of French music, and other common factors. I know I feel a special affinity for Scandinavian composers like Larsson and Greig. Sibelius' music in particular holds a majestic austerity that resonates with the Canadian landscape, cold seas and muted winter light.

I want both these new recordings. Music is the trove of riches I hoard in a cave, rarely going to appreciate it. If I listened to the radio more often I would end up spending more money than I can afford.

Not to mention getting my keyboard wet.

Comments

[apel.livejournal.com]

Ah, yes. Lars-Erik Larsson. Even though I rarely like twentieth century classical music, I do like him. Particularly Förklädd gud (Disguised God or something like that). If you like Larsson, you may also like Hugo Alfvén (1872-1960). Naxos have recorded some of his music. Perhaps it is too romantic for you, though. Anne Sofie von Otter is Swedish too but I'm sure you knew that.

Re:

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I have heard a little Alfvén and I do like it. Actually, Romantic music is what I like best, with a preference for the late Romantic composers.

[artricia.livejournal.com]

The truth is I find music distracting, at least the kind I like best.

I'm finding this more and more lately myself. That little "What I'm listening to" thing at the end of LJ entries makes no sense to me now. But it would have, at one point in my life. Music was a constant between the ages of, say, 12 and 22. Nowadays, I often turn the car radio off (unthinkable to my teenage self!).

Re:

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I rarely drive, except on the occasions when I rent a car for a visit with my daughters. Those are the only times I tend to listen to the radio. But even then, I'm becoming pickier about what I listen to. I don't want something playing in the background unless it actually engages me.