You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Music’ category.
Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A major, K.622 (1791), his final instrumental work, is the defining masterpiece of the clarinet repertoire.
First movement (Allegro, A major, sonata form)
Opens with a genial, singing orchestral theme in A major that radiates autumnal warmth. The solo clarinet enters with effortless lyricism, spinning long-breathed melodies of almost vocal purity. The development explores minor-key shadows without ever losing poise; the cadenza (Mozart left none, so Stadler’s or modern ones are used) is usually tender rather than virtuosic. Ends in serene sunshine.
Second movement (Adagio, D major, ternary form)
One of Mozart’s most transcendent slow movements: a single, unbroken melodic arch of heartbreaking simplicity over muted strings and gentle pulsation. The clarinet’s chalumeau register glows with ineffable calm; many consider this 5–6 minutes the emotional peak of the entire concerto.
Third movement (Rondo: Allegro, A major)
A sparkling, playful rondo that repeatedly returns to a skipping, hunt-inspired refrain. Five episodes allow the clarinet dazzling runs, leaps, and witty dialogues with the orchestra. The mood is buoyant, almost operatic (echoes of Papageno), and the work dances to a joyful close.
Overall character: intimate, radiantly melodic, poised between happiness and poignant farewell—Mozart at his most humane and technically refined, written for his friend Anton Stadler and the extended-range basset clarinet (modern performances usually on standard A clarinet with downward transpositions).
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s *Pie Jesu*, from his 1985 *Requiem*, reimagines the traditional Latin prayer as a luminous soprano duet. Written for the Latin Mass text—“Pie Jesu, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem”—it blends ethereal melody with lush harmonic shifts, rising from tender pleas to a radiant climax before dissolving into serene resolution. Premiered at St. Thomas Church, New York, with Sarah Brightman and Paul Miles-Kingston, it became an instant classic, later adapted by André Rieu in Maastricht with Kimmy Skota and Mirusia Louwerse. Rieu’s orchestral warmth amplifies Webber’s romantic lyricism, preserving the piece’s devotional core while framing it for popular reverence.
“We Remember Them,” composed by Susan LaBarr in 2017, is a poignant choral work for SATB voices and piano, drawing from a Jewish liturgical prayer of remembrance by Rabbis Sylvan Kamens and Jack Riemer. Its text unfolds as a meditation on grief and continuity: “When we are weary and in need of strength, we remember them… In the laughter of a child, in the flush of a lover’s kiss, we remember them.” The refrain anchors the piece—”As long as we live, they too shall live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them”—evoking the enduring presence of the departed in the rhythms of the living. LaBarr’s melody, with its contemporary ballad sensibility and accessible harmonies, renders the work suitable for concerts, memorials, or funerals, transforming solemn reflection into a shared act of renewal.
On this Remembrance Day, let us pause amid the shortening light to honor the fallen, whose silent valor secured the fragile edifice of our freedoms. In their names, we pledge not mere recollection, but resolve: to guard against the tempests of division and the sirens of forgetfulness, so that their sacrifice endures not as echo, but as foundation.
Lest we forget.
You probably haven’t heard this one, it’s amazing.
Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 36, premiered in 1802, represents a transitional work in his oeuvre, bridging the classical elegance of Haydn and Mozart with the bold, emotive style that would define his later symphonies. Composed during a period of personal turmoil—Beethoven was grappling with his encroaching deafness—the symphony exudes a surprising vitality and optimism, though subtle undercurrents of tension foreshadow his more revolutionary works. Structurally, it adheres to classical conventions with four movements, yet Beethoven’s distinctive voice emerges through dynamic contrasts, rhythmic vigor, and innovative orchestration.
The first movement (Adagio molto – Allegro con brio) opens with a slow, majestic introduction, its rich harmonies setting a dramatic stage. The Allegro bursts forth with a lively theme, driven by buoyant rhythms and playful interplay between strings and winds. A notable highlight is the spirited dialogue between sections, showcasing Beethoven’s knack for creating momentum through contrast.
The second movement, a Larghetto, is a lyrical gem, its serene, flowing melody carried by strings and embellished with delicate woodwind flourishes. This movement’s warmth and clarity offer a moment of introspection, with a particularly memorable passage where the violins weave a tender, almost vocal line.
The third movement, a Scherzo (Allegro), replaces the traditional minuet with a brisk, humorous dance. Its syncopated rhythms and sudden dynamic shifts create a sense of mischief, particularly in the trio, where rustic, drone-like textures evoke a folksy charm.
The finale (Allegro molto) is a rollicking, high-spirited romp, propelled by a whirlwind of scales and a cheeky, repeating motif in the strings. Its exuberance, punctuated by bold brass and timpani, feels like a defiant celebration, hinting at the heroic spirit of Beethoven’s later works.
While less grandiose than his Third Symphony, the Second is a vibrant testament to Beethoven’s ability to infuse classical forms with fresh energy. Its highlights—the sprightly first theme, the lyrical Larghetto, and the irrepressible finale—reveal a composer on the cusp of redefining the symphonic genre. For deeper analysis or specific recordings, I can search for recent discussions or reviews if you’d like.
bleatmop
Mystro
The Arbourist
Dead Wild Roses 
Your opinions…