Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 in B minor, Op. 74, "Pathetique" (Mariss Jansons, 1986)

I think Tchaikovsky's 6th has been featured here before, but this one is a different conductor. It was a decent value and the reviews were very good. Then a particular relative caught wind that I was exploring classical music and hit me with all six symphonies. This, however, was my first taste of Tchaikovsky outside the annual Nutcracker spins.

Without sneaking a peek at that previous post, I think I recall saying there was a lot of darkness in this symphony, written not long before his death, which was arguably a suicide. I still stand by the sentiment, but there is a lot going on here, particularly in the first movement. The third movement is probably the most instantly recognizable and ends with such authority that many will often applaud at the end of it, which is a huge no-no in today's classical concerts. (To which others counter that it is a modern invention to hold all applause to the end of the symphony.) But seriously, it's a big finale except for the fact it's not a final movement. The final movement is actually familiar to me through its surprisingly faithful interpretation by the Nice back around 1970, when Keith Emerson was feeling in particularly classical mood. It appears on Five Bridges and Elegy, two albums I don't own, but it made it into the Immediate box set as a bonus track.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (Jerry Goldsmith, 1989)

Meet anyone who has seen all of the Star Trek movies (or at least the first six) and they probably have a pecking order as to their preference. For me, it's 4, 2, 6, 3, 1, and 5. So, it's a little uncomfortable to have here the soundtrack to my least favorite of the movies. However, as fate would have it, the two weakest films sport the scoring talents of the late Jerry Goldsmith. For many, Goldsmith created the iconic Star Trek fanfare, so popular that Star Trek: The Next Generation threw out their plans to create their own theme and just used his instead. Although I'm a sucker for Leonard Rosenman's score of the fourth movie, and a lot of folks prefer James Horner's "beefed up" return performance on the third, it's hard to say in the long run than any of these come closer to capturing the Star Trek spirit musically as Goldsmith's work.

I abandoned any plans to build a complete soundtrack collection ages ago, so I never heard any of the other soundtracks until recently. This soundtrack cuts pretty darn close to The Motion Picture (1979) as Goldsmith is probably following the "why mess with success" model. The "Klingon" theme reappears cleverly as before, which is a nice touch. It almost makes me forget how dumb much of this movie was. Also, as is fairly typical for these soundtracks, included on the disc is a pop track by Hiroshima called "The Moon Is a Window to Heaven". Not exactly my listening preferences, but oh well.

As far the other soundtracks of the "classic" movie era, the only one I've neglected to mention here is the sixth one, The Undiscovered Country. While it is one of the stronger movies of the bunch, the soundtrack is the total antithesis of the theme-heavy franchise. The composer, Cliff Eidelman, I think is/was best known for composed the music for Free Willy and is mostly ethereal and background-grade stuff. While I can whistle just about any of the other movies' themes, this one has nothing. So that answers that.

When the "Next Gen" movies came about, they initially went with Dennis McCarthy, who did most of the TV show music for The Next Generation and its spinoffs, Voyager and Deep Space Nine (for which is did the theme). However, the lure of Jerry Goldsmith (who wrote the original theme for Voyager) was too much, and all three of the other films feature his scores. Goldsmith died a couple years after the last movie, Nemesis, which is another bad movie sporting a far nicer soundtrack than it probably deserved. Of the composers of the original six movies, only considerably youngest Eidelman is still living (Rosenman died of old age in 2008 and Horner is a plane crash in 2015).

Plays Metallica By Four Cellos (Apocalyptica, 1996)

Although the purists in each camp may not rub shoulders too often, there has long been a strange closeness between classical music and heavy metal. Be it bottom-heavy arrangements by Wagner, Tchaikovsky exploding canons, Deep Purple, Metallica, and others jamming with orchestras, or Rainbow reworking Beethoven, the examples aren't hard to find. Apocalyptica added their own contribution in the mid-1990's by combining a love of cello rock and Metallica into their debut, Plays Metallica By Four Cellos (don't ask me where they dreamed up such a creative title).

This is about as pure as Apocalyptica gets. Every song is a Metallica cover (something they would move away from within a few years, first the Metallica, then cover material altogether), and they don't always attack the obvious stuff. "Enter Sandman" is a natural, no surprises there, and half the songs are from the Black Album. But taking on "Creeping Death" in lieu of "Fade to Black" from Ride the Lightning, and "Harvester of Sorrow" from And Justice for All instead of "One". The two tracks from Master of Puppets are probably the best tracks of the bunch here: "Sanitarium" and "Master of Puppets" may not be all that unusual for the Metallica catalog (hell, they even play "Puppets" going into commercial breaks on NFL broadcasts), but Apocalyptica does arrangements to bring down the house.

For some reason I never bothered to follow Apocalyptica any further, and my have they changed. Guests vocalists, vocals in general, drummers, programming, ten more albums (live and/or studio), and a focus on original material has moved the band a considerable distance from the early days of covering Metallica with four cellos and nothing more.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (Leonard Rosenman, 1986)

If this seems a little weird being here, keep in mind some of the stuff in my collection goes back quite a ways, back to days when I dreamed of owning every single Star Trek movie soundtrack (I stopped at 2). I don't really do soundtracks anymore because they are all either glorified mixtapes (beware the phrase "inspired by") or largely dull incidental music. Pretty much all the soundtracks featured here were straight out of freebie bins.

The themes to all the Star Trek movies (well, the first five) were pretty darn catchy. Each composer usually started with the old TV theme and then dove into their own signature theme: the Goldsmith (the first and fifth films, and the Next Generation TV show), the Horner (the second and third), and here, in its only appearance, one of my favorites, the Rosenman. I don't know why but everything from the sixth film onward is utterly forgettable (even the return of Jerry Goldsmith didn't really solve anything).

Why Star Trek IV has a different theme than all of the other films probably has something to do with the fact that it is, in fact, a very different movie from its cohort. Even though it picks up where Star Trek III left (which in turn picked up the Wrath of Khan story line), it's the only one of the movies where the Enterprise is nowhere to be seen, at least not until the last minute of the movie. There is also no use of weapons in the film. In fact, the most violent scene is when Spock neck-pinches the punk on the bus playing his music too loud. It's also a lot funnier than any of the previous movies and putting the crew of the Enterprise into 1980's San Francisco is an irresistible opportunity for plenty of social commentary. I'm sure transparent aluminum is still tied up in the patent process and should soon be available along with hoverboards.

Of course if you think about the plot to hard you pretty quickly realize just how ridiculous it is, and I'm not talking about putting the Monterey Bay Aquarium next to the Golden Gate on the wrong side of the bridge with the power of film editing. I mean, they are pretty flip about deciding to go back in time and make it look pretty darn easy, making you wonder what took that guy from the JJ Abrams Star Trek so long to think of going back in time and changing history. So I try not to think of it too hard, because I can think of a better way to scare whale-haters than to say some deep space screeching probe is going to destroy the planet unless they get some damn whales on the scene STAT.

Since I'm not here to blog movies, a word on the soundtrack, which was nominated for an Oscar. As indicated, Leonard Rosenman brought his own theme to the table and it's very catchy and appropriately Star Trek. As a soundtrack most the music is incidental stuff with very appropriate titles ("Gillian seeks Kirk" "Hospital Chase", etc.). Just to mess with us, he turns things over to smooth jazz group the Yellowjackets for a couple tracks (not all at once, but taking turns), just in case you needed a reminder that this is the film where they go to the 1980's.

For some reason Rosenman wasn't invited back. He shouldn't feel too bad, since only James Horner and Jerry Goldsmith did repeats (not counting the last two movies with Michael Giacchino). Goldsmith did an outstanding soundtrack for a terrible movie in Star Trek V and then it sort of devolved into random composers and/or Jerry Goldsmith. Sadly, most of Rosenman's soundtracks (which stretch back to the 1950's) are for movies I've either never seen or really don't want to see. However, he had a stroke of luck in the mid-1970's scoring Barry Lyndon and Bound for Glory. Post Star Trek, Robocop 2 was about as high profile a movie as he got and he retired in 2001. He died in 2008.

Debussy, Ravel, Saint-Saëns (Pascal & Ami Rogé, 2013)

The Modernists ruled the roost this weekend and the pianos were in full effect. Like any good piano bar, two is better than one, and that's the feature of this album. This primarily came into my grasp because I was looking for a couple Debussy compositions ("La Mer" and "Prélude À L’après-midi D’un Faune") and the others came along for the ride. In fact, about half of this is Ravel and Saint-Saën's only contribution in the closing scherzo.

The main thing I learned from all of this is twofold: (1) it is best not listened to while driving (all subtleties are lost), and (2) I need to spend more time with the Modern composers. I still feel like I'm missing something somewhere when it comes to these composers. Also unlike a lot of the classical stuff I've been listening to, this isn't orchestral. I must be hooked on orchestras.

The Idiot's Guide to Classical Music (Various, 1995)

Yep, I'm an idiot. And you may be one too! If you know as much about classical music as I do, you should check this out. This disc consists 99 snippets from Albioni to Wagner.

Us and Them: Symphonic Pink Floyd (London Philharmonic Orchestra, 1995)

So, Roger Dean finally did a Pink Floyd album cover. Sort of. Believe it or not this was a #1 charting album in 1995. Of course the chart in question was the Classical Crossover chart, and the timing was pretty good too, with The Division Bell still relatively fresh. I never sought out this album; it was a gift from my parents, who were trying to relate to the kind of music I was listening to in the mid-1990's. While Iron Maiden was barely tolerated and Metallica could only be played when they were away, Pink Floyd intrigued them. Maybe their was hope for their son after all, but a little classical music appreciation couldn't hurt either.

Oddly enough the masterminds behind this are Jaz Coleman and Youth, from the post-punk outfit Killing Joke (and in the case of Youth, one half of The Fireman alongside Paul McCartney). I know next to nothing about Killing Joke beyond the name, but I'm pretty sure this doesn't sound like their music, so that's kind of weird. However this isn't muzak Pink Floyd. There are some pretty clever arrangements here, especially "Money" and "Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)" which, in original Floydian form do not exactly scream classical music. On the other hand, there is also a pronounced lack of imagination in exclusively going after only songs from Dark Side of the Moon and The Wall. Hell, "Comfortably Numb" is already rocking orchestration in its original form. As an added bonus there is a remix of the opening track "Time", stuck to the end of the proper album, that would make anyone crazy if playing "Name That Tune" as it's now two steps removed from its origins. Overall, this is not that exciting an album, but if it falls at your feet, you might as well pick it up and give it a spin.

In Venice (Albrecht Mayer, 2008)

The oboe has dethroned the guitar this morning and a full-on celebration of all things Baroque is encompassing my work day.

This is another example of "careful what you wish for". In this case, I was telling my aunt "I'd like a copy of the Four Seasons" and next thing I know I get not only that (from the Academy of Ancient Music) but two Albrecht Mayer albums to boot, one that's all Bach, and this one, a whirlwind tour of Italian Baroque. After an isolated movement from "Winter", Mayer (with the New Seasons Ensemble backing him) delivers oboe concertos from Vivaldi, Platti, Marcello (Alessandro and Benedetto), Lotti, and Albinoni. In all fairness, I'm such a neophyte only the first and last names ring any bells with me. Nevertheless, the album has a strong theme throughout and flows nicely.

I'm not sure I can really use this as a jumping off point to explore new musical territory since I'm still inclined to stick to the best known works and get comfortable with them. However it's good to know that I don't have to settle for just Vivaldi, Handel, and Bach as I explore the Baroque period.

Mozart: Symphony #40, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, et. al. (Various, 1995)

At the risk of sounding like an advertisement, this is a great deal for anyone wanting their first taste of Mozart. I got mine from the World's Largest Store for under $4.00 in convenient mp3 format. I'm not sure why each individual track goes for $1.29 or who would want just individual tracks.

I'm not a classical music scholar, but this compilation presents top-notch legacy performances from Wilhelm Steinberg's Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra (the two title pieces) and Sir Colin Davis's Philharmonia and Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (Serenata Notturna and the Overtures), all dating from the early 1960's.

Now if somebody can tell me where I can find "Jupiter" (Symphony 41) without having to re-buy No. 40 and not pay a zillion dollars. It's hard enough to manage just one version a symphony; I'm too much of a novice to take on a second!

Tchaikovsky: Symphonies Nos. 1-3 (London Symphony Orchestra/Igor Markevitch, 1995)

Apparently the first three symphonies couldn't stand seeing the second three appear in this blog, so without further ado here they are. In my early classical discernment, I sought a copy of Symphony #6 (Pathetique) and intended to focus just on that one. I found and obtained the Mariss Jansons recording, then a relative dropped all six on me. While it's nice to have them all, I am trying to focus on one piece of music at a time!

My usual forum for these albums in my morning drive. I hate to admit it, but most of my music listening is not devoted to listening to the music itself. I'm usually doing something else: working, driving, reading, cleaning, etc. Let me say that this disc (and just about every classical disc to grace this blog) is not good driving music. Maybe my car is too low-tech, but the soft bits get squashed by the sound of my tires on the road, plus assorted engine sounds. Since there's a lot of music here, I've taken it to work as well. Now I can here the soft nuances better, except that my focus is far more positioned toward doing work!

Perhaps as I do with reading, I just need to block out some time to just listen. Ah, but when?!

Bach: Brandenburg Concertos 1-3 (Berlin Chamber Orchestra/Peter Wohlert, 1990)

The Baroque is back...er...Bach? Take it as pun or don't, because for many (most?) Bach is the quintessential composer of the Baroque period, with apologies to Handel. I'm fresh off reading my classical music primer (post on the way), so it was interesting to listen with some history under my belt.

I need to be careful what I ask for. Since my classical music appreciation is still developing, I am trying to focus on a small number of better known pieces before scattering in all directions. When I mentioned to a relative that I was seeking a recording of Brandenburg 2 and 3 (probably the most easily recognizable of the six), I was suddenly gifted all six concertos, plus, included on this disc, the Harpsichord Concerto for good measure. So I've got plenty of Bach to enjoy in the short term.

Oddly enough, I used the opening of Concerto 2 as the "evening news theme" for a play I stage managed (and ad hoc sound designed) in college. It just sounded right. Of course, now every time I hear it I think it's time for the news to begin!

The Basic Handel (Various Artists, 1993)

This is a good overview of Handel. You get your Water Music, your Fireworks, and of course your Messiah in one convenient double-disc set. Even a classical music neophyte like me can recognize the key parts of these pieces. Also included are the Largo from "Xerxes", The Harmonious Blacksmith, and the not-so-grosso Concerto Grosso #8.

I recently went to the San Francisco Symphony with my mother to see one of their "Spirit" and "Soul" sets of the music of the Bach family, which got me to thinking about baroque music. If I could only pick a single composer from that era it would probably be Bach (the elder), but Handel currently would be a close second. There's just too much iconic stuff here to ignore! However I think I'm favoring the Classical period more. Baroque is easier to wrap my brain around, but I find it a little stiff. Romantic era stuff is certainly exciting but I get lost in it, and not always in a good way. Modern is still mostly the undiscovered country.

I've got a book on classical music lined up in my reading queue and will post some thoughts on that later, probably around July or so. A little appreciation couldn't hurt this "most difficult" of Western artforms to grasp (Jacques Barzun, I think?).

The Gemini Suite (Deep Purple, 1970)

A rock band playing with an orchestra! Well before Metallica's S&M hit the shelves back in 1999, Deep Purple had done it, twice no less. The original outing, Concerto For Group and Orchestra, was a full on attempt by Jon Lord to write a symphony featuring a rock band. These were not orchestra covers of rock songs, but an attempt to work within the classical music structures. The work arose from earlier attempts on prior Deep Purple studio albums, to add some orchestration to their songs, first "Anthem" from The Book of Taliesyn and then "April" from Deep Purple. Concerto took more after the latter work, contrasting passages performed by an orchestra, then a rock band. Ultimately the experiment failed because the band was pursuing a much heavier direction and leaving no room for orchestras in their plans, but they did briefly tour the Concerto, much to the annoyance of Ian Gillan and Ritchie Blackmore. So of course when it was discovered that provisions were made for another concerto project, they just about rebelled.

The second concerto project is now known to history as The Gemini Suite, a one-off performance by the band with a different orchestra and a different approach. Unlike Concerto, Gemini features cooperative solo performances by the different members of the band backed by the orchestra, an approach first seen on the studio track "Anthem" back in 1968. Amazingly, for all of their complaining Blackmore and Gillan turn out the most powerful performances. Ian Paice and Roger Glover turn in quality solos as well. Only Jon Lord himself flunked his performance, which he later cited as a bad case of his nerves getting the best of him.

Ultimately it was Gemini and not Concerto that Jon Lord continued to develop on his own during the 1970's, with a complete studio re-working with new musicians the following year, followed by an expansion project called Windows in 1974. Jon Lord would continue to work in a strongly classical inspired vein throughout his solo career, something his band would largely shun though sometimes dabble in as solo artists (I'm looking at you Ritchie Blackmore).

Sheherazade; In the Steppes of Central Asia; Islamey (Kirov Orchestra/Valery Gergiev, 2002)

This one is sort of an extra-credit number in my preschool-level knowledge of classical music. The bulk of the album is Sheherazade, followed by the tame In the Steppes of Central Asia, then the lively Islamey.  This isn't a great album for driving because the road noise consumes much of the more subtle moments, especially in the second piece. I'm giving it another go in the office, just to be fair.

I think one of the key early steps to appreciating these works in the modern era is to recognize where they may have appeared in other contexts. Sure enough in 1968, Deep Purple put Sheherazade to good use, oddly enough leading into their own take on the Cream version of Elmore James' "I'm So Glad". Now who is the world would ever have thought of putting those two together?

Jon Lord would do it again in the next album, using Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 as a dramatic lead-in to the Beatles' "We Can Work It Out". Who says those rock musicians have no musical chops?

Tchaikovsky: Symphonies 4-6 (Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra/Evgeny Mravinsky, 1960)

Grim...grimmer...grimmest. The final three Tchaikovsky symphonies. These symphonies are DARK.

Probably not the best listening choice for the drive in, as the quiet parts were getting drowned out by the sound of my tires splashing through the wet streets.

I'm not sure my ear has developed enough to fully appreciate the Romantic era composers. It's not that I hate the music, but there is just so much going on that I kind of want to go back to the relatively simplicity of Bach or Mozart. Hopefully as I continue to listen and pour out random thoughts things will develop further.

I'm still in a holding pattern on my classical music collecting. In addition to Tchaikovsky, I still feel I need some more time to study and bond with the music before expanding further, otherwise everything gets all confused in my mind. I've got plenty of time.

Beethoven: Symphony #9 in D Minor "Choral" (Berlin Philharmoniker & Ferenc Fricsay, 1958)

A few years backs, when asked if I liked classical music, I replied, "I like the idea of classical music" which was my silly way of confessing I knew nothing about it. Where does one begin? How much do you really need to know to enjoy classical music? As with jazz, I decided to "go it alone" to start. I found a nice "100 basic works" list to work with. Number One in the series is Beethoven's Ninth, which is probably as good as any of a place to begin. The actual recordings of the "Basic 100" tend to stick to only a few conductors/performers, with inconsistent results, so as I went down the list I tried doing a little research to learn what recordings are the best.

When I rearrange iTunes to show my what I play the most, this one routinely comes out on top. I think this probably has to do with the fact there is really no bad place to listen to this, and, as one at the beginning of a classical music exploration, one cannot listen to it too many times. As with languages, I learn through repetition. I may only read a book or watch a movie once, but I listen to pieces of music over and over, learning new things with each listening.

Since I picked this one up last year, I've added Schubert, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Strauss (Johann), Vivaldi, Debussy, Handel and Bach to the collective. As you can see, I'm all over the map right now so don't even think of asking about favorites!

As with the Cecil Taylor entry last weekend, I leave it to others to dissect the inner workings of the piece and the recording. There are lots of good resources out there. I freely admit that I am a complete novice and all I can do is speak from my own experiences.