World History Project: Semi-Christmas Edition, or, Handel and Vivaldi Strike Bach!

So, in keeping with the holiday spirit (not really), here are a few more classical records - two out of three of which are God-themed, but only one of which is, oh, joyful! But that’s a better batting average than usual.

There’s one each by Bach, Handel and Vivaldi. I keep comparing these guys when there’s really no valid reason to. These just happen to be records I have where the compositions were written around the same period (1725-1750 or so). But from that point, I’m just making sh*t up.

But since these same three guys keep popping up I considered giving them a humorously inappropriate nickname, like "The Three Amigos" (especially since, like Beethoven, Steve Martin actually lost some hearing during the making of that movie). But I’m not talking about Beethoven right now, am I? (That was a test.)

There’s also a part in the movie Don’t Look Back where poor Donovan plays a pretty song only to have Dylan blow him away with “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”. In other words, your song sucked. Christ, what a prick.

But I didn't have a third guy, so forget that.

Then there's the Three Stooges, but who is who? I mean, up until now, I could see Bach as Moe, slapping both Vivaldi


who reminds me of Larry
 

and Handel (which makes him Curly or Shemp. You pick) across the face in one swing, because he keeps being better than them.

Does that situation apply here?  Not exactly, but it’s funny how, no matter what Handel or Vivaldi do, Bach’s always there to outdo them.

But not today!



Bach: Mass in B Minor

So Handel’s doing his thing with Messiah which is a bunch of people singing about Jesus, and of course, Bach says I can do that! and writes Mass in B Minor.  (Yeah, he's really reminding me of Dylan at this point.

And well, it’s kind of what you’d expect at Mass, which is a bunch of people singing together kind of slow - occasionally midtempo. And if they’re having a good time, I wouldn’t know because they’re singing in another language.

But let’s face it, even with the language barrie, you can usuallly tell when there’s a party going on. And it ain’t here.

Now I admit, I should have known what I was getting into. I already have Requiems by Mozart and Brahms and, well, they’re requiems. That word translates into “not quite as fun as Mass”.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But they do occasionally pep up, but that’s really only when they’re kissing God’s ass, which is what people spent a lot of time doing back then.

So, I can’t say that it’s bad, because it’s not. But I’ll go to hell if I only give it a B, so

B+

Here’s the whole thing. Play it on Sunday, and you won’t have to go to church.



Handel: Messiah

I mentioned this one before in comparison to another George (Harrison) because I like to play bother of them on Christmas.

For my money, Messiah beats Mass in B Minor, mainly because the latter IS IN B MINOR! Not the cheeriest key.

Meanwhile Messiah is a bunch of people singing (in English!) about how happy they are about said Messiah. So there’s really no contest.

And there’s usually someone singing lead, whereas in Mass it’s a bunch of people trying to convince you that, despite the key we’re singing it, it’s all good. (Actual lyrics!)

I’m not buying it.

The worst you can say about Messiah is that they like to repeat lines over and over, so a song with five lines may go on for ten minutes, a la:

BeHOLD a virgin shall conceive and bear a son!
Behold a VIRgin shall conceive and bear a son!
Behold a virgin SHALL conceive and bear a son!
Beho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-hold… etc.

You get the idea.

But one great thing is that there are individuals singing.

First, there's the bass dude, going on for a while about the good news, instead of actually delivering it.
And then, the lady - probably his wife - singing Will you get to the f*cking point? Praise the Lord!
And then the chorus comes in to take sides.
First the wives with He’s such an ass! How'd you let yourself get knocked up by him? God Bless Us!
Then the husbands come to his defense with Hey, she’s no bargain, whatever and ever amen

So it’s more entertaining. Like a family gathering. But as you can see it takes some time before the, uh ACTUAL MESSIAH shows up.

And while I’ve had this record for, oh 25 years now, I couldn’t be positive I’d know it when it’s on. But if you drop the needle on it somewhere I’d find myself enjoying it. (Mass not so much  It makes me feel like I should be sitting up straight.)

Oh, and on Messiah, I can hear people having a good time.

A-

Enjoy!



Vivaldi: Mandolin Concerto
Vivaldi: The Mandolin Concerti: Concerto in G Major for Two Mandolins, Strings, and Basso Continuo, P133; Concerto in C Major for Mandolin, Strings and Basso Continuo P134
Concerto in C Major for Two Mandolins, Two Theorboes, Two Flutes, Two (are you really still reading this? Okay, I’ll keep going) P16; Concerto a due Chori in B-Flat Major “Con Violino Discordato” for Strings and Basso Continuo P368

Which you probably can’t find anymore, but any of these should do.

Not much God here, this is just a really good album - maybe my all time favorite classical record.

You get to hear a string instrument you like and the style of playing is in a sweet spot between classical and pop. Some nice riffs and melodic turns, so it doesn’t feel like work at all.

It’s almost like the Grateful Dead doing an acoustic album.

A

"Concerto in G Major"

So, in your face Bach (or Dylan, or Moe or whoever you are)!

For the rest of us (rhymes with?) this Christmas, I suggest getting Mass out of the way early, rejoice for the coming of the Messiah, and then just kick back with a drink, and enjoy those wailing mandolins!

World History Project: Bach Around the Clock

I was thinking of including this in my Music for Catastrophes series. I’d been playing it pretty regularly since June. It’s seven CDs - which was just enough to get me through this very f*cked-up year we’re in.

And well suited musically. After all, back when this stuff was composed (1722-1750) disaster was a daily occurrence. But people, come on! It’s not a competition! They couldn’t help it back then. Ours is self-inflicted.

But aside from that little happy coincidence, it’s really part of the World History Project.

First prompted by a reference to A Musical Offering mentioned in Godel Escher and Bach, and then numerous other references to The Well-Tempered Clavier, and finally, Radar O’Reilly being partial to the Fugue, I managed to find it all in one place.

I mean, how could I say no?

So here it is. The big magilla.




Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier (Das Wohltemperierte Clavier) / The Art of the Fugue (Die Kunst der Fuge) / Musical Offering (Musikalisches Opfer) Import, Box set, Collector's Edition
Johann Sebastian Bach (Composer), Davitt Moroney (Performer), Janet See (Performer), John Holloway (Performer), Jaap ter Linden (Performer), Martha Cook

You like how I put the German title in there, too? Pretty classy, right?

Anyway, there were a lot of talented people before Bach, but jeez, this guy is just off the charts. Great musician, great improviser, great composer. Their Prince, maybe?

So let’s break this all down.


The Well-Tempered Clavier Book 1 (CDs 1 and 2) and Book 2 (CDs 3 and 4):

Funny story: Back then the clavier (or to us, the harpsichord) was more or less just invented and people were tuning it in all sorts of different ways.

Along comes Bach, who says Enough of this different tuning sh*t. Listen, assholes! Here’s my way - the right way - to tune the damned thing, and by the way, if you don’t believe me, in my spare time, I wrote 24 tunes - each in a different key -  just wrote to prove it. So everyone just shut the f*ck up, okay?

And that’s a direct quote. (Okay, I’m lying about that.) But what a badass!

And he does it very methodically. First C Major, then C Minor, then C sharp major, and then C sharp minor.

And you can just hear him thinking as he goes along What? Still don’t believe me? How about I do D Major and then D Minor? Here you go! Want more? Okay, here’s E, etc. all the way to G, and then back to A and B because you illiterate b*stards didn’t notice I didn’t start with A!

And if you think age may have mellowed him out, no. Twenty years later and he does another 24. Really, he was kind of an asshole.

But I guess you want to know what it sounds like.

Amazingly enough, not annoying. And Davitt Moroney can really play. He’s no Elton John or anything, but he’s not bad.

And it’s not too “fussy”. And you know what I mean by that. It doesn’t come with all those trills and flourishes that would me want to punch poor Davitt in the mouth. It helps that he’s not wearing the big wig. (A recurring theme in this series.)  He just looks like a regular guy.

This music is peaceful (probably why I keep going back to it). Kind of like the Beatles “Because”  played at various tempos and keys, except without the voices.  That may not sound like much, but in classical music less is usually more.

A-

“Prelude & Fugues in C major”


The Art of the Fugue (CDs 5 and 6):

This is designed music. Experimental if you will. And yet, he could just improvise it on command. I’ll assume he wrote these down first. Each one is made up of two separate melodies that weave around each other and sometimes combine to make a third one.

What a show-off.

But again, they’re not pompous or overbearing, just exploratory. You get the feeling he could have made it more complicated but he wanted to make sure you could follow.

And it hits that sweet spot of holding your attention if you want it to or letting you go do something else while it’s on while providing a perfect background.

So maybe the guy was mellowing.

A-

J.S. Bach "Little" Fugue in G minor, BWV 578 


A Musical Offering (CD 7):

This one’s more varied than the others. It’s actually got some other instruments on it. And simply lovely.

Nuff said!

A-

“Musical Offering BWV 1079 XVII. Ricercar a 6”


Bach to the Future:

This little adventure could have been a big waste of time. It had all the earmarks of being “work” - a huge rabbit hole I dug for myself that I could neither relate to or enjoy. If that had been the case, though, I would have discretely put it aside by now. But I still find myself putting it on.

So while I don’t love it like the best pop music, it does, in its way, stand as my album of the year.

More Music for Catastrophes, or, Heart of Glass:

Friend-at-Work-Andrew and I talk a lot about music. It sure beats talking about work.

We have a lot of common interests, and when I told him about my delving into classical music via my World History Project, and Bach in particular, he pointed me in a couple of very fruitful directions.

But my favorite of his recommendations is more contemporary.

Like Phillip Glass, by way of our common admiration for Brian Eno. I’d already gone down the contemporary classical path with Terry Riley and Steve Reich.

Glass never had the obvious record to buy, other than the triple record Einstein at the Beach, which I was - of course - too cheap to try.

So Andrew pointed me to this record one instead:



Philip Glass: Glassworks (Expanded Edition) (1981)

One of the reasons I kept putting off getting something by Philip Glass is that the description adjectives I’ve read of his music were complimentary but alienating: repetitive/rhythmic/minimalistic. These are not the words that typically trigger my interest. I’m more of an emotional/melodic/joyful/suicide inducing kind of guy.

So, in finally relenting, I braced myself for something academic and dry, but instead got a very emotionally charged record.  Son Michael - a rock n' roller asked "What’s this?" while the very first song played.

We then go back and forth between what you’d expect based on the dry compliments above to unexpectedly lovely interludes.

By itself, I’d judge Glassworks about a B+, but what really puts it over in this expanded edition is the inclusion of selected cuts from In the Upper Room - a dance piece he did with Twyla Tharp back in 1983(?) - which turn out to be just as good as - and sometimes even better than - Glassworks itself.

And by “Dance II” we are taking off! And here is where I begin to notice that Glass isn’t above using pop-like minor chord changes, just enough to keep idiots like me focused.

So not only do I get to feel superior to people by listening to this kinda highbrow stuff, I get to actually enjoy it too!

And “Opening” is the perfect solace for these trying times.

A-

Music For Catastrophes

Whenever I’m severely depressed, or dealing with some sort of “Major Negative Issue” I would avoid new music, fearing that it would just get the stench of the crisis and forever be tainted by it. I’d use similar logic to deprive myself of other fun things during those times, but now I’m beginning to think that approach only made things worse. This time around, I’ll do good things for myself to keep up my strength, and one of those things will be to listen to good music. Another rule worth breaking now is my No More Than One CD by an Artist rule. Which is, when given the choice between two records to buy, I’d get the one by the band I didn’t have anything by yet. Its original intent was to cut down on those instances where I’m getting the eighth or twelfth record by one artist at the expense of hearing something new by another. After all, unless you’re Dylan or Neil Young, there’s little reason to think your twelfth record is as good as your first. But everyone once in awhile, I wise up and ask myself why I never bothered to go back to the well for a band that made a record I loved? Which brings me to the Chills, who made one of my all time favorite records, Submarine Bells (1990), which was definitely one of the best records of the 90s. The Chills: Kaleidoscope World (1986) This time it’s their first album (Submarine Bells was their second) which is really a collection of singles. Now I know what you’re thinking. I’ve never even heard of these guys. Well, like the Clean before them, they’re from New Zealand. Most of the key characteristics of the band are here, if in more embryonic form. The songs with rhythms or melodies like old sea shanties, but modernized via echoey organ and guitar textures that provide a haunting, out of reach quality. Their music hasn’t yet taken on the bright sharp production of SB, but if anything, it’s even more haunting for that reason. The songs are as melodic as ever, but this time they sound both modern and mythic at the same time. Martin Phillips’ vocals may seem nondescript but they fit the mood perfectly, only adding to the overall atmosphere. The lyrics deal with major themes like death and love and leather jackets, so you know they’ve got their priorities straight. And they’re just vague enough to keep me intrigued. Somehow they manage to rock out more, too. And the good news is that they’re pretty good at it. The brilliance is not yet in full focus but it’s here nonetheless. So, while I’d recommend SB first, if you like that one, proceed on to this one. You won’t be sorry. I hope the music here will help me through some of this awful time. As far as getting the stench of the time on it, only time will tell. A- “Rolling Moon”

World History Project: Vivaldi vs. Handel vs. Bach, Round Two!

One thing I keep forgetting to mention about my World History Project (where I’m currently reading Clarissa by Samuel Richardson, circa 1747)  is how it gives me an opportunity to fill in the huge gaps in my classical music collection.

God, I hate that word “collection”! It conjures visions of shelves full of records no one ever listens to. Maybe I should just say that it gives me a chance to hear stuff I haven’t heard before.

One common complaint about classical music is that “all that sh*t sounds the same”. I get that.

Another is that it’s too damned fussy. I get that too, and I agree. I like it best when they all just calm the f*ck down and play a pretty tune.

Plus, I think of it as music for rich people.

I said last time that I’d like to punch the guy wearing the wig and funny clothes who plays the harpsichord (or the horn or the violin, although they always seem to be wearing a tux and just waiting for someone to give them a wedgie) when he does those little flourishes at the end of a tune. It’s like he’s holding a tea cup with his pinkie sticking out. And who doesn’t want to just snap that little pinkie off?

Whew! I’m glad I got all of that out of my system.

So I took the occasion to get two new records from a couple of guys we’ve run into before, and listen more closely to one record I’ve had for some time.

And I judge them partly by whether they sound the same, and whether they’re too damned fussy and whether I feel I have to check my credit score before listening to them, which is what the theme from Masterpiece Theater sounds like.

Call it the Punch In the Face Index (PFI), or Break That Pinkie Off Index (BPI). Or Burn Their Mansion Down Index (BMI). Up to you.

Each record occasionally falls into the above-mentioned traps but one blows right past them.



Handel: Water Music (1717)

Here’s some more music from that guy we first met here and then again here.

This is orchestrated much like the Masterpiece theme, but maybe a little happier/peppier (which ain’t sayin’ much, btw.)

The instrument I hear the most here is the french horn. It’s kind of stately but not too overbearing. It’s got a kind of waltz-y beat going on, which keeps it from getting boring (but then again, you won’t be dancing to it). It won’t quite grab your heart, though. It’s like that couple that come to your barbecue all dressed up.

However, I put it on in the backyard on a beautiful October day and it was just wonderful. Turns out it was composed for a festival that took place next to the River Thames.  (Notice how they don’t call it the Thames River? If they hear you say that, they assume you’re making minimum wage.)

So it turns out it’s not for a summer barbecue but rather a fall walk in the park, preferably one with a body of water that you name backwards, like River Hudson or Lake Clove.

Based on an outside listen, this is an easy A-, assuming the weather’s good and it’s the right time of year.

But I’m an indoor kind of guy.

So, not great, but not bad at all.

B+



Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (1723)

And not to be outdone, Vivaldi comes back, too.

And we’ve all heard the opening theme, right? I forget where, though. Some ads, I think.  Charmin? Camel Cigarettes? Yeah, that sounds right.

It’s also got that Masterpiece Theater vibe but manages to keep it all a bit lighter. I find it more varied than Water Music. There are some slow ones, some fast ones (Handel never really quite revs up to, say, “Wipe Out” speed. That’s okay. No waves by the Thames.)

And there are more violins than horns, which I prefer. And the slow quiet parts are real pretty.

Again, you won’t lost your sh*t listening to this, but it’ll make the time go by quite pleasantly.

B+



Bach: The  Brandenberg Concertos (1721)

This is the record I bought back in the summer of 1983 when I took another shot at classical music at exactly the wrong time.  Poor Johann Sebastian was up against a summertime glut of pop music that was making me perfectly happy at the time thank you very much.

But now, over thirty years later, I can hear it much better.

Compared against Vivaldi and Handel, Bach comes as a bit of a relief. He’s lighter on his feet, more melodic, more relaxed, and not trying to impress you like the other two guys.

I mean, he already impressed me with the sheer gall of his Six Solo Cello Suites. I mean, who does that?  Well apparently a few people, but whatever.

Here he knocks out six concertos for this guy Brandenburg, in about a year and a half. And it’s everything Vivaldi and Handel ain’t. And those guys are pretty good!

I also notice that he keeps the band a little smaller. You could almost fit them in your living room. Okay, maybe not quite.

Funny thing. Turns out that you’ll find the 2nd Concerto, Third Movement used as the theme for "Firing Line". At the time, I always found it to be the epitome of fussiness, and yet when heard in the context of all six of these pieces, it goes down a lot easier.

So, if I were to give an analogy, Vivaldi and Handel are Chuck Berry and Elvis, while Bach is the Beatles. And with all due respect to the other gentlemen, I’m a Beatles Guy all the way.

A-

My 70s Show, Part Two

Lately, I’ve been having a lot of fun exploring and revisiting the early 1970s. I turned thirteen in 1970 and feel like I missed a lot of what was going on at the time.

Alas, 1970 was also the first year of “I Wish Things Were As Good As They Were in the Sixties”. After all, we were aware of “the sixties” as a concept even during the sixties themselves. So, along comes 1970, and what could possibly send you the message that the sixties were not only literally over, but also symbolically over than the news that the Beatles broke up?

The only thing that made the summer of 1970 bearable was the Woodstock Soundtrack. But everyone wondered what was next, and had the troubling feeling it couldn’t possibly be as good. Except for the Led Zeppelin fans, who already thought they were better than the Beatles. )I swear. Ask my childhood friends Joe and Mike.)

The trouble was if you just assumed things were going to be bad you were bound to miss a lot. And a problem with the sixties was that you could point to five or ten key artists who made 75% of the great records. With the seventies, the quality was more evenly spread, which made it harder to find, let alone agree on.

So it was no wonder we started breaking up into our little groups of taste like glam, Southern rock, singer-songwriter, heavy metal, etc. And black artists? Forget about it. They were exiled to AM radio.

And yet, there are probably a lot more great albums made in the seventies than the sixties, at least if you leave out jazz.  Let’s face it, good pop albums didn’t really start getting made until 1964, and then only by the Beatles, Stones and Dylan. Everyone else didn’t get into the swing of things until about 1966, which may be my all time favorite year for music (67-69 wasn’t too shabby, either, as I recall).

By 1974, I knew there were great things out there because by then I had a job, and spent all the money on collecting albums. First, there were the key sixties albums I needed to catch up with, like Blonde on Blonde but mostly it was seventies music. I was no longer looking for the “next Beatles”. I was just looking for good music wherever I could find it.

And now, when I’m feeling I’m not connecting with new music, I can always go back to the sixties and seventies for some relief. The sixties for brilliant meteors scraping the summer sky and the seventies for bright and cool autumn sunshine.

And it’s been working out pretty well, with the Kinks, Fairport Convention and Roxy Music. I had some making up to do since it was the British stuff I tended to miss at the time.  But, hey, why not an American artist?

Leon Russell (1970)

You remember Leon, don’t you?

Friends with Joe Cocker, highlight of the Bangla Desh concert, co-writer of “Superstar”, member/leader of Mad Dogs and Englishmen, which overlapped with the  Delaney/Bonnie/Clapton nexus that together made about a dozen albums together at the time, including this one.

He was also up to his ass in sixties studio work and the maker of many hit singles in the seventies.

And a great piano player. Elton John was/is a huge fan.

Leon’s got that grating voice and extreme Southern drawl. We all liked it then, but I like it somewhat less now. Ahh, another great thing about the early seventies was that you could get away with a lot. Now as I get closer to my early seventies, not so much.

This is not even his first record, but it’s his first record where he’s billed as the solo artist.

And it boasts some great tunes.  “Delta Lady” (almost as good as the punchier Joe Cocker version), “Humming Bird” (one of my favorites) , “A Song for You” (covered by everybody), “Roll Away the Stone” (quite humorous).

I just wish it boasted more. If it did, I’d rank it amongst the greatest albums of the seventies. Alas. no. Leon could write some great ones but maybe not enough for one full album at any given time.

And the key, with revisiting early seventies albums is getting beyond the better-known cuts and seeing how the rest of the record holds up. And in this Leon is hit or miss. And it’s not that these other songs aren’t good. They’re well executed, but just don’t rise above a generic seventies sound. Except for that organ on “Hummingbird”, which sounds great.

The playing is real tight. And why not? He’s got half the Stones, half the Beatles, and an assortment of rock n roll all-stars helping him out.

But unlike, say, Lola, which boasts several excellent songs I hadn’t heard before, there’s nothing here like that.

So while he probably deserved an A- at the time of release, the years have taken their toll on it.

My recommendation? Look for one of the extensive compilations and catch all of his highlights. If that isn’t enough for you, then come back to this one.

Mind you, I'm not disappointed. "Less than great" comes with the territory. And "pretty damned good" is all over the place.

B+

“Hummingbird”

World History Project: Every Record Ever Recorded! (Not!)

Just a clarification on this whole World History Project thing. I will not be reading every book ever published or listening to every record ever recorded, because that would involve listening to Barry Manilow.

So I’ll just be reading books as I find them and listening to the records I already have.

And since I’m up to the 18th Century - and believe it or not Keith Richards was not born yet - I’ll be listening to a lot of classical music.

Having grown up in Brooklyn, it’s hard for me to separate the act of listening to classical music from wanting to punch someone in the face. And since I'm usually the punchee, it’s really saying something that I’d be the one to get that urge.

But classical music brings up images of foppish guys with British - or worse, French - accents, wearing flouncy wigs, and not even having the decency to be doing so in drag.

I can just see them sitting around the mansion, enjoying the latest Bach ditty on the family harpsichord, convinced of their superiority over the lower classes who were busy tending the fields and yet invented folk music. Isn’t that enough to make you want to take a swing?

Now that’s not the fault of the music. It’s just something I have a hard time getting out of my head. So I tend to enjoy classical music to the degree that I can forget that.

Anyway, back to the World History Project. I’m up to 1714, and reading myself some Alexander Pope. (Hey, Jeeves! Where’s my flouncy wig!) Now Pope isn’t as much fun as Neal Stephenson, but he’s not bad.

One of the records I’m listening to from that time is a Musical Heritage Society compilation of work by Vivaldi, Handel and Telemann by the Academy of St Martin in the Fields.

I’ve had no luck finding this record at allmusic.com, so it doesn’t make much sense for me to recommend the album, but I guess I can tell you what I think of each piece.


Handel, Concerto Grosso in G Major  Opus 6, No 1.:

I know what you’re thinking. If this is Opus 6, what happened to the other five? And are they all in G Major? Wow, if so, how did he ever get to the rest of the alphabet? I guess they didn’t have a lot to do back then.

But maybe Opi (the plural of Opus, of course) 1 - 5 weren’t so hot. But by now it’s all good. And this is number 1. Is that it's highest Billboard position? I can’t wait for the rest!

Anyway, this one’s got a lot of violin in it, which I like a lot. Slow and stately, yet melodic and sweet.

Check it out!

B+


Handel, Concerto in A Minor Opus 6, No.4:

And now I’m all confused again. Is this a whole other Opus 6 or are we in the same Opus as last time? Who knows?  I mean, why not just call them Meet the Handels, A Handel’s Day Night, Magical Handel Tour, etc. I mean, we could all get a better - wait for it! - “Handel” on it!  (I just kill me!)

And what’s with the grosso? Hey guys, I just wrote a concerto and it’s kinda gross. Take a listen! It’s like when I barbecue and tell everyone that the food probably didn’t come out that good. Bon appetit!

This one’s a little quieter and the first part, the larghetto afffettuoso allegro (of course) is really very pretty. Slow and sad.

Just like me. 

B+


Vivaldi, Concerto in B Minor for Four Violins Op 3 No 10:

Four violins? Really?

You didn’t see old Ronnie Van Zandt call “Free Bird” Concerto for Three Lead Guitars Opus Awesome No.79, now did you ?  C'mon classical people, get a grip! Well, I guess I'm a little late with that, huh?

Anyway, you can kind of tell it’s Vivaldi. He’s got that stench of Masterpiece Theater on him, but he’s actually pretty cool. The violins stay pretty without getting too, you know, “no fun”. He changes the pace and gets a nice balance of sweet and serious.

Give it a whirl.

B+


Vivaldi, Concerto for Two Trumpets:

This one is soooo Masterpiece Theater it’s not easy to like. And I just can’t.

The trumpets remind me of those old Roman movies when whenever someone entered the castle a bunch of trumpets would play something to announce his arrival, when a doorbell really would have sufficed.

It’s kind of stuffy, and makes you feel like you should be sitting up straight.

All this tooting when all I really need to hear is the french horn from the Tommy “Overture”.

And note, no grosso for old Vivaldi! He’s got a better opinion of himself.

But not me.

Here’ goes.

B-


Telemann, Viola Concerto in G Major:

No Opi for this guy, thank god.

In all of these pieces, I find I like the slower quieter second movements. But Mr. T gets right to the slow part up front.

Violas are at a lower pitch than violins which makes them easier to take over the long haul.

It’s quite pleasant to listen to this piece, which says, hey I’ll just hang out with you and not talk too much. My favorite kind of guest.

But then he can’t help but pick up the pace and get a little loud and fussy. But it’s okay. He can stay for the barbecue.

Hey, Mr. T. Do your thing.

B+


So that’s it for classical music for now. I’ll have to slog through some more Pope, before I get to more Vivaldi and Handel.

But in between, I’ll get back to the apex of Western Civilization: Silly Love Songs and Pop Music.