The Different Roles of Recordings

Sometime last week, I turned on the radio and caught the final one and a half movements of Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2, featuring soloist Krystian Zimerman and conductor Seiji Ozawa (Deutsche Grammophon 000185802). This recording is electric. Zimerman does things on the piano the likes of which I have not heard anywhere else, and both soloist and conductor display deep understanding and manage to teach even those who are already very familiar with it something new about the music. I actually own this recording on CD but hadn't heard it in years. While there are problems (such as a few places where the piano overpowers the orchestra) that keep it from being one of the definitive recordings of the work, this is a recording not to be missed by admirers.

***

Generally, it is best to listen first to one of the acknowledged "definitive recordings" of a work of classical music. This helps one grasp more quickly the music's basic meaning. Once one has reached a sufficient level of understanding, one then enjoys the luxury of being able to listen profitably to recordings that are not as consistently great from beginning to end. This is because, secure in our understanding, we may choose to overlook the parts that we feel are wrong and focus more on the parts that we feel are right, including parts that reveal something deep about the music that we hadn't noticed before.

We should not wonder, then, why artists continue to find the motivation to record classic works. There is always the opportunity to enrich listeners with some new insight.

Unpunished Rapture

I have lived long enough to notice that, generally, for every high I experience there is a low that follows. Human beings, if they are to be happy, are forced into lives of moderation. Music, however, might be a relative exception to the rule. For, the high brought on by music is a spiritual one and is perhaps most associated physically with a state of tension. Now, the opponent process for a state of physical tension is one of relaxation, which is normally what I experience following a thrilling music performance.

I now quote:

If I were to begin life again, I would devote it to music. It is the only cheap and unpunished rapture upon earth. --Sydney Smith

Classical Music (cont.)

I found a quote related to yesterday's post:

Musical compositions, it should be remembered, do not inhabit certain countries, certain museums, like paintings and statues. The Mozart Quintet is not shut up in Salzburg: I have it in my pocket. --Henri Rabaud

Classical Music

I stumbled across a clip from Henze's opera Pollicino yesterday. The scene I watched was the one where Hänsel (from Hänsel und Gretel) conceives of his plan to find a way out of the woods. (In case you're curious: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AvaxvHU1Uo.)

Listening to the music, I thought again about how some composers (e.g. Henze) are accepted as part of the classical music tradition while others (e.g. John Williams) are not. It is a tricky thing, outlining rules for what should be considered classical music and what shouldn't be. Such a judgment is rightfully left to subjective analysis. I will say, however, that I think in most cases the community gets it right.

Some prefer the term "art music" to "classical music," but I think that the former term is broader and does not narrowly define what is commonly referred to as "classical music." For "classical music" is not just an elitist term; it represents a specific concept that many people value and would like to preserve. Classical music compositions are conceived of and are written down in Platonic form. They exist so that artists may take up the challenge time and time again of realizing the forms. It is not a particular performance and all of its details that are of primary interest to the classical music aficionado--it is the composition and the way in which that composition is enlightened by the performance.