A Personal Selection of Twelve Pieces of Classical Music to Lift my Spirits
Whenever I feel sad or unhappy for some reason, I quite often resort to listening to pieces of Classical music, in particular the ones that I know well. While different activities may work as well, like eating cake, e.g. a Paris-Brest, it is listening to quiet and calm music that really lifts my spirits. It is akin to the homeopathic principle of fighting a state with something similar, chase away melancholy with contemplative music. The purpose of this story is to share my personal selection of Classical music, with a few personal notes added, in the hope, they could produce a similar effect on others.
A critic might say that this story only proposes the easily accessible parts of Classical music, not honouring the complete work, like if one was only feasting on the cream filling of a cake. However, the sweet creamy filling might be the lure to attract somebody who later will discover that the delicacy lies in the combination of the cream filling with other layers. Consumed together the whole reveals the complexity which makes one appreciate the filling even more. In contrast to deserts that may lead to cardiovascular diseases, Classical music, will most likely touch your heart.
Johann Sebastian Bach — Cello Suite №1 in G major, BWV 1007 — 1. Prelude
Johann Sebastian Bach was a prolific composer and outstanding musician beyond my imagination. It is said that once king Frederick the Great challenged Bach to improvise a fugue on a theme set by the king. Bach instantly obliged with a 3-part fugue which later became ‘A Musical Offering’; this, together with his legacy, gives an idea of Bach’s musicianship.
From all of Bach’s wide range of oeuvre, however, the piece I wanted to present to you is a solo composition for cello, from the Cello Suites, BWV 1007–1012, namely the first suite in G major, and from that only the Prélude. It is perhaps a long shot to start engaging somebody in Classical music using a solo piece by an instrument that can only play one note at a time (mostly). Then it is exactly that aspect that allows the mind to focus on the essential, on pure music.
Despite the fact that I had known the suites for a while, they were re-introduced to me by Yo Yo Ma’s Inspired by Bach series of films, where the cellist performs the suites in the context of a collaboration with other artists. This kind of introduction may work for you, too; with or without, however, there are many recordings that will hopefully create the same feeling of serenity once listened to it in a calm and quiet setting.
Ludwig van Beethoven — Sonata №32 C minor Op.111 — 2. Arietta — Adagio molto semplice e cantabile
Allegedly, when Ludwig van Beethoven once got news that one of his female friends, possibly Countess Josephine Brunsvik, lost a dear person (possibly her child), he hastened to her house, rushed to her room, looked into her eyes but was unable to speak and express his feelings in words. Instead, he went to the piano and improvised, expressing thus what he felt though his music. At the end of his performance, he stood up, returned to the griefing friend, looked again briefly into the lady’s eyes and rush out. According to a Beethoven biography, his dear friend is told to have said: “I could feel my child going through the gates of heaven as Ludwig finished playing.”
If the story is true, then Beethoven’s music must have successfully transmitted an idea where his language abilities have or would have failed. For some reason, I always think about that story when I hear the second and last movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No 32 Opus 111. Despite the fact that the first movement is quite imposing, as all other sonatas are very interesting, the second movement starts in C-major, the simplest key, and quite simply really with a short melody. Then, the movement evolves in five variations as if it was recounting a life’s story with ups and downs, at times serious and grave, at others playful and nearly jazzy to the modern ear. The sonata finally concludes with a simple chord, the peaceful conclusion of the piece.
Ludwig van Beethoven — Quartet Op.130 B♭ major — 5. Cavatina — Adagio molto espressivo
Many years ago, when the focus of my musical interest was rather on dramatic orchestral pieces and grandiose piano concertos, a friend drew my attention to the fact that most humans with some degree of musicality are able to follow about four different voices with not much difficulty. Hence, a musical form that only uses four voices is optimal for the conveyance of a musical idea, in particular when there is only one instrument per voice: enough voices to engage but not too many to overload the mind. Therefore, I would like to present a piece from a String Quartet.
Most composers of the classical period and beyond created string quartets. While Franz Schubert string quartets are very accessible or the famous quartets by Dimitri Shostakovitch are extremely exciting, the essence of the string quartet is in my opinion best captured in the Cavatina of the String Quartet In B Flat, Op.130 by Ludwig van Beethoven. Listened to in a quiet setting, following the voices and the progression of harmonies seems to be the perfect expression of music, perhaps one reason a recording of this Cavatina was included in the Voyager Golden Record, as an ambassador of mankind's life and culture on Earth.
Ludwig van Beethoven —Symphony №7 A major Op.92 — 2. Allegretto
In the comedy “Alte Meister”, the Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard calls Ludwig van Beethoven a “Marschmusikkopf”, a march music head. There is indeed something to be said for the impression that Beethoven’s music can be a little like what stereotypical comedies think about German march music bands. However, it has to be recognised that Beethoven understood taking a simple theme and turning it into something great, through variations and all that was available in the musical toolbox of his time. From Beethoven’s large oeuvre, including 9 symphonies, I would like to present the second movement of the Symphony №7 in A major, Op. 92, entitled Allegretto.
This allegretto starts in an A-minor chord followed by an ostinato, a persistently repeating motif: a 2/4 time signature sequence over 8 bars, in essence 4 times the two bar sequence baaaam-bam-bam-baam-baam which has indeed a slow march flavour to it. However, it evolves into something astounding. Over the course of the movement the music changes into various shapes culminating in a fugato, then flows into something lovely that lets one think of Beethoven’s 6th symphony. All so simple and yet very impressive, like a chef who can prepare a marvellous meal with a few basic ingredients.
Antonín Dvořák— Symphony №9 in E minor — 2. Largo
The Czech composer Antonín Dvořák, one of the first internationally recognised music artists of the late 19th century, is nowadays most likely known for the Symphony №9, also known as the New World Symphony or From the New World. The piece was commissioned by the New York Philharmonic while Dvořák was living in the USA, from 1892 to 1895, as the director of the National Conservatory of Music in New York City. The composer encountered and studied African-American and Native American music, which must have influenced this symphony as it was combined and developed with Western rhythms and orchestral colour.
As for the second movement presented here: after a harmonic progression of chords by the brass section, followed by the strings, a cor anglais introduces a simple and yet beautiful main theme in D-flat major. It evokes nostalgic feelings of coming home, or perhaps, after descending down from the mountains, the elation of reaching a wide plain with large fields of wheat, maybe the reason it was used for commercials (bread mostly, or is this evocation just an effect of having seen the commercials?). Nevertheless, the theme and its development during the entire movement elicits the sensation one might get when experiencing the vastness of America’s beautiful landscapes and plains (which Dvořák might have had).
Pyotr Tchaikovsky — Symphony №5 in E minor — 2. Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza
When talking about Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, one might think of ballets such as The Nutcracker, Swan Lake, and The Sleeping Beauty, or his dramatic 1st piano concerto (in particular its beginning); the latter may well be an introduction to Tchaikovsky for many people (including myself in music lessons at school); it was also used in quite a few films, e.g. the 1971 classic Herald and Maude. Here, however, I would like to talk about one of the later three symphonies, the Symphony №5 in E minor, Op. 64, and in particular, its second movement.
A sequence of chords in B-Minor by the string section marks the beginning, which sounds quite tragic and grave. Modulations lead to D-Major where the horn introduces a beautiful theme, expressing a feeling of longing. After an exchange with a clarinet, the oboe then opens a second theme which is echoed by the horn. After some modulations it is the strings that take over the the first theme with the horn and other soloist responding and so on.
Gustav Mahler — Symphonie Nr.5 — 4. Adagietto — Sehr langsam
When talking about classical music Gustav Mahler is perhaps not the composer that comes immediately into one’s mind. Mahler was a well established conductor in his time; for instance, he performed Wagner’s operas in full and abolished the claque, people hired to clap during and after performances. His work, however, started only to be recognised only after the Second World war as they were banned under the Nazi regime. Musically, Mahler could be seen on the transition from of the late 19th century Romanticism to modernism with its new tonal language.
The Symphony №5 is a good example of this new musical language, in particular its 4th movement, Adagietto. There is not much more I can say about the movement myself, other than suggest listening to it. Allegedly, Mahler thought of this movement to be a love song to his wife, Alma, his muse and inspiration; he is reported to have left a short poem to Alma:
In which way I love you, my sunbeam, I cannot tell you with words.
Only my longing, my love and my bliss, can I with anguish declare.
Sergei Rachmaninov — Piano Concerto №2 Op.18 — 2. Adagio sostenuto
My journey into classical music went through a phase of strong interest in piano concerts of the Romantic period, with works by Robert Schumann or Edvard Grieg, as well as Russian composes such as Piotr Ilyitch Tchaikovsky and Sergei Rachmaninoff. They all have something remarkable about them which was appealing to me as a young person and might be, or become interesting to you, too, in particular the piano concertos by Rachmaninoff (who is said to have had huge hands). The piano concerto №3, perhaps known from the film Shine, is indeed remarkable, while the piano concerto №4 remains perhaps my personal favourite: enigmatic and mysterious.
The Rachmaninoff concerto which is perhaps most well-known, however, would be the piano concerto №2 in C-minor for two main reasons. First, it is perhaps the most relatable, and second, it was used in the classic British film Brief Encounter by David Lean. The second movement opens by modulating from C-minor (from first movement) to E-major over several chords with the theme being introduced by the flute, later picked up by the clarinet, nearly in an ethereal manner. As the movement evolves and progresses, it evokes emotions one imagines the two main characters may have experienced.
Maurice Ravel — Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in G Major — 2. Adagio assai
It was again a friend and musical mentor who drew my attention away from both Romantic piano concertos and the Viennese Classical period more towards relatively modern composers, Maurice Ravel being one of them. This French composer’s music is always subtle and sophisticated, intricate and complex like a French meal with its many and yet light courses. Among the wide spectrum of compositions range chamber music, song cycles, ballet music and two piano concertos, one of which is the Piano Concerto in G-major of which the second movement I would like to present.
Similar to most second movements of piano concertos the Adagio assai is very slow as the description indicates; the piano introduces the theme in E-major over 34 bars without repeating a single bar. The most intriguing aspect is that the base accompaniment is a 3/8 signature whereas the melody follows a 3/4 signature creating a beating effect which keeps the theme exciting and engaging throughout its introduction. The most uplifting part, however, is when the melody gets picked up by a sequence of solo instruments, first the flute, then the oboe with an alternation between both over a harmonious orchestral background and a continuous piano accompaniment.
Aaron Copland — Concerto for clarinet and string orchestra
Aaron Copland may be well known for works such as Appalachian Spring or Fanfare for the Common Man, the latter I first knew from a version by English progressive rock outfit Emerson, Lake and Palmer. This story, however, is about Concerto for clarinet, strings and harp. If it had not been on a Benny Goodman CD, I may not have known and learned to appreciate this concert. In fact, the concerto was commissioned by Benny Goodman in 1947.
In many classical pieces as presented here and elsewhere, it is the second movement that is slow and quite often well known. Here it is the beginning that is slow as the clarinet introduces a gentle theme over a background of strings starting a conversation. A bit later, if I am not mistaken, one can hear a cor Anglais which to me is reminiscent of Antonín Dvořák’s second movement from the New World Symphony.
Vincenzo Bellini — Norma — Casta diva
The musical genre of opera can be dividing: some dislike the fusion of theatre and music with the lyrics sung with specially trained “operatic” voices; some become fascinated and sometimes hooked on operas of special periods or even composers; few, however, remain indifferent. The period and style most people would immediately associate with opera is the early to late 19th century and an Italian vocal technique, respectively, with operas from composers such as Gioachino Rossini or Vincenzo Bellini to composers such as Giacomo Puccini or Giuseppe Verdi.
If there is one opera and from it one aria which I would think must resonate with most people then it would be the Casta Diva in Bellini’s Norma, in particular sung by the unforgettable Maria Callas. It is the example of of the bel canto genre, a vocal style going back to the late 18th century, but having had a revival in the 1950ies, notably with Maria Callas. Appreciating this aria may open up a gateway to a wide range of opera far beyond the more accessible Italian vocal style of the 19th century.
Richard Strauss — Four Last Songs — Im Abendrot
Richard Strauss may be best known for “Thus spoke Zarathustra” , at least its beginning used in the Stanley Kubrick’s 2001 — A Space Odyssey, or perhaps for his other tone poems or operas such as Der Rosenkavalier. Among his works figure quite a few lieder, around 200 of them. A set of lieder, published posthumously under the title Four Last Songs, were written when the composer was in his 80ies, close to the end of his life, perhaps as his last, almost completed composition. While the first three are based on poems by Hermann Hesse, the last of the last songs, however, was inspired by a poem by Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff, and is fittingly entitled “Im Abendrot”, literally the evening red [glow], the [red-glow] sunset.
This last lied, written in E-flat major, starts with a wide chord and lavish orchestral introduction where various motifs are woven together, some carried by a horn, until the lied proper starts with:
Through sorrow and joy we have gone hand in hand;
we are both at rest from our wanderings now above the quiet land.
The meaning of these words may well become more touching knowing that Strauss dedicated this song to his life-long companion and wife Pauline, an acclaimed and successful soprano. It feels like the master of the lied and his wife were together looking back at an accomplished life; they had walked hand in hand. Now, they bid farewell to the world, being tired, but at peace. Would there be a better way to reach the end of a fulfilled life, then express, together with your live long partner, deep feelings of serenity, gratefulness and calmness before leaving this world:
O vast, tranquil peace, so deep in the afterglow!
How weary we are of wandering — Is this perhaps death?
