By Zoë Lang

This post addresses a topic that I’ve hoped to write about for a while: resources for listening to classical music online. I’m planning to stick to resources that are free (no iTunes) and accessible to anyone (no Naxos/Classical Music Library) as well as not potentially infringing on copyright (YouTube). For this post, I will discuss three of my favorites and welcome you to submit others. I’d like to investigate other possibilities for listening online, so please feel free to comment and leave more suggestions.

It is truly humbling to think about the sheer quantity of music that is at our fingertips today. Think about what was available a mere hundred years ago, when one had to rely on either what was playing at their local concert hall (and/or discussed in newspapers), what was in piano arrangements, or what could be studied in scores. Today, we can simply pull up whatever we want from some digital resource and investigate it, making copies onto our hard drives for future hearings. This freedom is unprecedented and astounding.

And yet, how many of us truly take advantage of this potential? It can be equally easy to fall into ruts, simply listening to the same pieces (or composers) as always. Even though I want to expand my knowledge of pieces, it becomes difficult to know where to begin. The same freedom of choice is also constricting in this respect. Attending concerts of an adventuresome orchestra can help redress this problem as well, but many groups are canon perpetuators as well. Also, unless one subscribes to a season, it is easy to fall into the trap of only attending concerts with favorite works, rather than seeking the new.

What I like about the following three resources — apart from the fact that they cost nothing — is the fact that they all encourage the listener to go beyond his/her knowledge of repertoire and explore new works. They do so by making access easy and providing a wide variety of choice. Also, from my experience, all are reliable (they don’t crash often) and have good quality performances. Here are my top three:

1) Klassik auf Klick from SWR 2. I subscribe to this weekly podcast and am alerted to a new recording every Monday from the SWR 2 archives. These recordings are available for free download for that week and can be heard at any time from the SWR 2 website. While these performances can feature canonic composers and works, they also explore lesser known pieces and composers. Either way, it’s a very convenient way of learning new repertoire when it simply appears in my Google Reader once a week. I do my best to keep up with the recordings, even listening to pieces that I (think I) know. For instance, recently Mendelssohn’s Trio in d minor was featured, which has never been one of my favorite works. The first movement is featured in the textbook that I use for teaching my music history survey and it never clicked with me. But the second movement — now that one I liked! Had I not listened to the recording, I wouldn’t have known about it at all, barring accidental attendance at a concert at which it was featured. I will admit that I often find myself loading Beethoven’s Opus 18, no. 5 for the umpteeth time, but I am pleased that this service makes it so easy to also hear works I don’t know.

2) The Schoenberg Center website. Apart from providing digital archives of the Schoenberg Center holdings and creating fun YouTube videos, the Schoenberg Center has also managed to make recordings easily accessible for all of Schoenberg’s works on their website as a ‘Jukebox.’ This is great! I find that it’s one of the easiest ways to get to know new works and explore pieces you might not know otherwise. If you are not familiar with the Schoenberg Center website, and especially the Jukebox, then I highly recommend that you investigate (and if you haven’t already seen that YouTube video, seriously, you really should).

3) Carnegie Hall Commissions. I stumbled upon this website accidentally once when I wanted to learn more about David Lang’s Match Girl Passion. Much to my surprise, not only did I learn more about this piece, but I could also hear the entire work online, for free. The same goes for most of the pieces that have been commissioned for Carnegie Hall since 2006. That is a whole lot of new music by many of the most influential composers working today. For free. There are also biographies of the composers and a wealth of interesting works. I especially liked Evan Ziporyn’s Sulvasutra, but I would encourage you to explore and find your own favorite.

The project Querklang – Experimental Composition at School reveals precisely that. It has seized this question and encourages pupils of various schools to create an entire composition as a group, using only their own everyday sounds. This might be a bicycle, newspaper, balloon or watering can.

In the context of Berlin’s international festival for current music MaerzMusik 2010 the world premieres of the self-created group compositions will finally be performed in public. Visitors of the MaerzMusik have every reason to be curious – the QuerKlang concerts have evolved into a highlight and insider tip of the festival over the last years.

Since 2002 the QuerKlang project has been inspiring and motivating various schools in Berlin to fill the hole in conventional musical lessons, approaching music passively, by actively creating music and dealing with experimental and contemporary music.

Within about ten teaching units of 90 minutes each, the classes work on the creation of their compositions and presentations. The quality of everyday sounds is identified, the impact of silence examined and the contrasts between chaos and organisation becomes part of the composing process. Self-built instruments are used and unusual ways of playing usual instruments found. All imaginable sounds become part of the process and the final composition. In this composing process, seriousness, eagerness and a tremendous dose of motivation, passion and fun are constant companions.

QuerKlang: “Klangwirbel” by Kultkom

Each participating class is supported by a professional, contemporary composer, one or two students of music from the University of Arts in Berlin as well as their familiar music teacher. The connection of the different working fields opens up new ideas, give chances to gain new experience and broadens the horizon of all partcipants.

Due to the experimental concept, QuerKlang is able to bring all kids of different age, various types of school, different social, cultural and musical background together. This circumstance results in extremely multifaceted and miscellaneous compositions.

For more information and upcoming concerts please visit the MaerzMusik website.

– Anne Schumacher

Due to the fact that recently I have spent a considerable amount of time driving, I decided that there could be no better opportunity to revisit the Ring Cycle. I was fortunate enough to see it staged last June at the Vienna State Opera and while there were some serious deficiencies in the production — such as the Brünnhilde — I found the experience of seeing the entire work again to be engaging, albeit tiring. Vienna’s Ring Cycle circa 2003 used to be presented in a most civilized manner: after a mid-week performance of Rheingold, the lengthier operas were held for Sundays starting in the late afternoon, allowing for sufficient time to enjoy a fortifying goulash prior to the experience (not unlike the American National Football League’s once-per-week schedule). This time around, they decided to go for a more intense schedule, presenting all four operas within the space of a week. I think I prefer the leisurely approach: in the week version, I felt as through I was running some kind of opera marathon, not once but three times. After seeing the entire cycle, I decided that it would be the ideal time to cement the operas into my musical memory by listening to them whenever possible. Pairing many hours in the car with the Ring Cycle was an ideal combination.

What has struck me in my most recent exploration of these works is their reliance on moments, a characteristic that I associate more with Italian operas rather than German ones. Virtually all of us are acquainted with these events in Italian works: consider the dramatic moments as Canio puts on his costume in Pagliacci, Cavaradossi recalls a rendez-vous under the stars, or Aida conjures up distant Ethiopia. In contrast, Wagnerian music drama is rarely discussed in such terms. Instead, there is a fixation on motives, particularly those that can be traced throughout the work and serve as clear signifiers of objects.

Yet Wagner’s works are equally dependent on moments to make them work. There is one key difference between a Wagnerian moment and an Italian one: Wagner relies less on the singer and considerably more on the orchestra. Moments are by no means unique to the Ring Cycle. Consider the return of Isolde in Act III of Tristan und Isolde: as she enters, we hear the same music that was played when the potion took its effect in the first act. However, this is no passionate acknowledgment of love; instead, the lack of resolution is heightened by the scurrying motive in the strings that abates only after Tristan sings, ‘Isolde,’ an echo of his response in Act I and his last utterance before succumbing to the wound inflicted by Melot. Unquestionably, the motives serve a crucial role in this scene, but the culmination creates an operatic moment that is no less effective than those of his Italian contemporaries.

Considering the length of the Ring Cycle, it is astounding that Wagner created moments that are so sonically distinct that they can be remembered across operas. One of my recent favorites is the moment of Brünnhilde’s awakening in Siegfried (‘Heil dir, Sonne’), accompanied by a series of chords moving from an e minor to a C major, back to the e minor and then to a d minor. The passage stands out because of the unexpected progressions and the distinct orchestration in the winds and brass with harp accents. This sequence returns exactly twice more in the Ring Cycle. It is the first sound heard in Götterdämmerung (now lowered by a semi-tone) and, in what has to be one of the most poignant uses of a leitmotif in the entire work, when Siegfried suddenly remembers his love for Brünnhilde prior to his death and calls her name. The device is not unlike Tristan’s final ‘Isolde,’ yet here it creates a parallel with Brünnhilde in Siegfried since it is his own awakening from a spell.

Of the Ring Cycle operas, my favorite is Götterdämmerung, despite the fact that I am certain Wagner could have divided the acts more mercifully (the Prologue and Act I take two hours to perform). This was Wagner’s starting point and it is the closest to a conventional opera: we have a chorus in Act 2 as well as a trio; there is action instead of reflection (consider Act 2 of Walküre by contrast!); and all of the time-worn operatic themes surface such as tragedy, betrayal, and deception. Perhaps this is also why it features such unforgettable moments.

As I was doing this favor, I thought about the fact that I spend a significant amount of time hearing music but very little actually listening.  This reminded me of a comment made by musicologist Reinhold Brinkmann when I was a teaching assistant for a class he taught that examined Vienna (including, and especially, the Second Viennese School) for non-majors.  He noted that students today were so accustomed to hearing music everywhere that it was almost impossible to convince them to listen.  They would experience great difficulty staying focused in lectures when musical examples were played, almost as thought they thought it was a chance to break their concentration rather than remaining engaged.  At the time, I thought that this phenomenon was limited to non-majors.  But now I am teaching students who want to spend their lives as musicians and music educators, and I’ve seen much of the same behavior.  I am constantly amazed by how often I need to remind them to be quiet when I play an example in class.

Of course, I assumed that I wasn’t like that: I listen.  But as I took the time to focus on the Rostropovich, I realized that much of the time, I didn’t.  Music is often around: I have it on in the car, I play it in my classes, I even run through entire operas in the background while I am working on time-consuming tasks.  But the music in the car is to distract me while driving, music in class is a form of work, and the operas are to try and absorb them on almost a subconscious level (if I listen to Siegfried enough times, maybe I will finally remember it).  Actual listening, for me, happens very infrequently.  Perhaps this is a function of music’s ubiquity or the fact that it is simply too easy to listen to music with all of the devices we can use to do so today (when I am at a concert, I have far less difficulty paying attention).  My experience with the Rostropovich, though, reminded me of how listening to a wonderful interpretation of an intricate piece has no parallel.

Listen to Rostropovich play the Sarabande from Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1

Istanbul. Image by Kara Sabahat. Published under a creative common license

İstanbulu dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı
I am listening to Istanbul intently, my eyes closed
Önce hafiften bir rüzgar esiyor
At first breeze gently rises
Yavaş yavaş sallanıyor
Slowly, slowly swing
Yapraklar, ağaçlarda;
The leaves on the trees
Uzaklarda, çok uzaklarda,
Water-carriers ceaselessly ringing their bells
Sucuların hiç durmayan çıngırakları
I am listening to Istanbul intently, my eyes closed
İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı

– Orhan Veli

With closed eyes we too will listen to Istanbul. Not so much to the water carriers, the birds, and the bazars as Orhan Veli did in his timeless poem on the sounds of Istanbul. But rather our ears will follow the plentitude of musics that are flowing out of this wonder-ful metropolis that connects the European and Asian continents in one big sonic jungle.

Istanbul is going to be European Capital of Culture in 2010 and in preparation of the big festivities zeitschichten.com is going to explore with you the New Music scene of Europe’s largest city. Over the next year or so we will introduce you to some of the most exiting new music that is being composed, improvised, and performed in Istanbul today.

In a series of short articles my colleague Yaprak Melike Uyar and I will introduce new recordings of contemporary works, interview composers and performers, uncover the best venues for avantgarde music, and thus hopefully open up the musical treasure trove of Turkey’s most exiting city for you.

As always, please let us know what you think! We are looking forward to any comments you may have.

İstanbulu dinliyoruz, gözlerimiz kapalı

This photo graced the cover of the July 20, 1942 issue of Time Magazine.  The story discussed the upcoming radio broadcast by the NBC Orchestra of Shostakovich’s 7th Symphony (‘Leningrad’), a piece that had been brought via 100 feet of microfilm from Kuibyshev to Teheran, then to Cairo, and finally to New York.  Time considered this work to be the most highly anticipated American debut since the 1903 Manhatten premiere of Parsifal, a piece that was apparently so lofty as to be devoid of political ideology or national origins.

The description of the ‘Leningrad’ identifies it as a symphony that does not quite succeed as an example of its genre:

‘Written for a mammoth orchestra, Shostakovich’s Seventh, though it is no blatant battle piece, is a musical interpretation of Russia at war.  In the strict sense, it is less a symphony than a symphonic suite.  Like a great wounded snake, dragging its slow length, it uncoils for 80 minutes from the orchestra.  There is little development of its bold, bald, foursquare themes.  There is no effort to reduce the symphony’s loose, sometimes skeletal structures to the epic compression and economy of the classical symphony.’ (53)

This is not to say that the symphony did not accurately capture its Zeitgeist:

‘Yet this very musical amophousness is expressive of the amorphous mass of Russia at war.  Its themes are exultations, agonies.  Death and suffering haunt it.  But amid bombs bursting in Leningrad [ed. note: not 'in air!'] Shostakovich had also heard the chords of victory.  In the symphony’s last movement the triumphant brasses prophesy what Shostakovich describes as the “victory of light over darkness, of humanity over barbarism.”‘ (53)

There are more detailed ‘program notes’ that follow, such as this description of the first movement:

‘The deceptively simple opening melody, suggestive of peace, work, hope, is interrupted by the theme of war, ‘senseless, implacable and brutal.’  For this martial theme Shostakovich resorts to a musical trick: the violins, tapping the backs of their bows, introduce a tune that might have come from a puppet show.  This tiny drumming, at first almost inaudible, mounts and swells, is repeated twelve times in a continuous twelve-minute crescendo.  The theme is not developed but simply grows in volume like Ravel’s Boléro; it is succeeded by a slow melodic passage that suggests a chant for the war’s dead.’ (54)

I have a lovely mental image of households across America tuning in to hear Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony, Time Magazines in hand, following along with the broadcast.  Does anyone know if they ever tried this with Webern?

Biographical information about Shostakovich is provided, including a remarkably jaunty retelling of the Lady Macbeth scandal:

‘At the height of the Purge, when Russian nerves were badly frayed and people were plopping into prison like turtles into a pond[!], Stalin decided to hear Lady Macbeth. He did not like it, walked out before it was over.  Murder from boredom struck him as a bourgeois idea.  Besides, Stalin’s musical taste runs to simple, more tuneful things, zigzags between Beethoven’s Eroica and Verdi’s Rigoletto[!].  Also, he had a seat directly above the brasses.’ (54)

There is also a description of Shostakovich, the man:

‘At parties or among musicians, he unbends, jokes, outdrinks his companions.  He likes automobiles, fast driving, U.S. magazines, reads the U.S. authors who most appeal to Russia — Mark Twain, Jack London, Theodore Dreiser, Upton Sinclair  Strictly a city man, he dislikes dachas (Russia’s summer bungalows) and komaryi (Russia’s multitudinous mosquitoes).’ (55)

The article ends with an attempt to contextualize the Seventh Symphony and Shostakovich’s oeuvre: ‘Is Composer Shostakovich the last peak in the European musical range whose summit was Beethoven, or is he the beginning of a new sierra?’ (55)

Undoubtedly, you are curious to know why Shostakovich is wearing a fire helmet on his front cover.  When he was still in Leningrad during the Second World War (prior to his evacuation), he served in the citizens’ reserve fire brigade.

Duke Ellington

In 1962, Duke Ellington and arranger Billy Strayhorn collaborated to do a jazz version of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker.  The original version was for big band and features nine movements.  The titles have been slightly modified — for instance, the ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’ becomes ‘Sugar Rum Cherry’ — but the melodies remain relatively easy to identify (even if, at times, Tchaikovsky’s melodies don’t readily swing).

Last night I heard a performance of this piece in St. Petersburg, Florida at the Palladium Theater, a ‘historic site’ by Florida standards (it was built in 1925).  While I wouldn’t describe the Tampa Bay region as musically saturated, one of the major advantages of living here is the opportunity to hear lots of jazz — and high quality performances of jazz, no less.  This concert was no exception.  The group was led by guitarist Nate Najar and featured Mike McCarthy on saxophone, Jon-Erik Kellso on trumpet, Chuck Redd on vibraphone, Robert Redd on piano, John Lamb on bass and Stephen Bucholtz on drums.  John Lamb actually played with the Ellington Orchestra in the 1960s and added a great deal to the performance.

The first half was arrangements of Christmas music, such as ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘O Tannenbaum,’ for the ensemble.  I especially enjoyed Najar’s solo performance of ‘Silent Night,’ which captured the mood of this carol well.  These numbers gave the opportunity for all of the performers to shine and started off the concert with a joyous tone.

In the second half, we heard all nine numbers of the Ellington Nutcracker as arranged by Najar.  Here John Lamb really got to show off and did a great job of creating sounds out of the bass that showed range and versitility (two words I don’t often associate with the bass).  The ‘Peanut Brittle Brigade,’ an arrangement of the ever-popular ‘March,’ featured Chuck Redd with an extensive vibe solo.  ‘Danse of the Floreadores’ replaced ‘Waltz of the Flowers,’ turning the piece from a graceful triple waltz into a bopping duple dance.  The final number ‘Arabesque Cookie,’ was an arrangement of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Arabian Dance.’  Hints of Ellington’s ‘Caravan’ emerged here with a similar muted drum sound and parallel motion at the wrong (or more aptly, exotic) interval.  All in all, it was a very fascinating version of the piece and a fabulous performance.

It is a pleasure to be writing for Zeitschichten!  Ironically, when I was asked to contribute by Matthias, I specifically said, ‘Sure, as long as I can write about something other than Stockhausen!’  Oh, the irony.

One of the disadvantages of teaching music post-World War Two can be difficulties in bringing recordings to class.  If what interests me, as a musicologist, differs from what interests the composition faculty at my institution, there may not be recordings in our library.  Furthermore, online databases, such as Classical Music Library, have significantly fewer 20th-century recordings, probably due to copyright issues (I would assume).

This morning, then, I found myself in a familiar predicament.  I want to play Stockhausen’s Gesang der Jünglinge in my class tomorrow as an example of electronic music (and a very interesting piece).  The only copies we have in our library are records from the original issue, and the classroom in which I teach has no record player.  What to do?

Happily, I stumbled upon Medien Kunst Netz, a website in German and English dedicated to media art, a broad category encompassing any interaction between a medium and art.  One of the tenets of this website is that the materials should be available for free to allow anyone to study them.  There is a recording of Gesang der Jünglinge, the score, and a sound profile that one can watch while listening to the piece.  The website also contains several interesting essays about media art, ranging widely from visual art, music, television, perception, and many other topics.

From The New York Times, April 3, 2007