Q. How is a viola solo like premature ejaculation? Continue reading
Well, I’m sure we’re all shocked.
Yes, Tchaikovsky did have a solid lead there for awhile. Yes, Brahms did get a vote. But was there any real doubt as to who would come to the ultimate ring?
I’m not going to offer an opinion here; longtime readers know exactly where I stand, anyway. Regardless, remember the purpose of the Composer Cagematch!, make like the lead in a chick flick, and choose the man who has your heart, not your head (and if you have to kiss the monitor, fine; just don’t tell me about it, ya weirdo).
So. It is down to you, and it is down to me. Because in this corner, he wouldn’t let Tchaikovsky escape from the seraglio! It’s
WOLFGANG! AMADEUS! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART
And in this corner, there are many princes, and none of them are Brahms! It’s
LUUUUUUUUUUDWIIIIIIIIG VAAAAAAAAAN BEEEEEEEEEEEEETHOOOOOOOOOVEEEEEEEEN
Choose wisely, young one. The fate of the universe hangs in the balance.
Continuing with this week’s themes of reader submissions and references only longtime readers will understand, this week’s LOL was submitted by the lady you may remember as Benevolent Dictator Jamie. I invite you to submit your own caption.
Edited to add: I have thought of my own; it is as follows: “Quit trying to make ‘fetch’ happen!”
This week’s viola joke is brought to you by Medalist of Violar Chris McGovern. Given that it’s minimally silly, you kind of have to wonder if he’s trying to suggest that violas are worthy of our praise, not derision. This man is potentially dangerous. If you see him on the street,do not engage him. Call me immediately and I’ll dispense a Viola Task Force to bring him in for questioning. Okay, break!
Okay, longtime readers. I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to panic.
Last Thursday, I gave a standing ovation.
Easy! Easy! Don’t freak! I know I have famously taken a stand (see what I did there?) against the ovation, but I feel it was deserved. You see, the National Symphony Orchestra performed Beethoven’s seventh symphony – the best Beethoven symphony, and therefore the best symphony, period. Last time I heard it live, I got burned, but this time –
This time it was awesome. Especially the second movement. It was perfect. My concert-going companion thought it should’ve been a slower still, and I see his point, but having thought it through I return to my original conclusion: perfect. Because the second movement must have some bite to it. Not a lot – just a little – but enough teeth to fuel the mini-rebellion that comes in the middle of the movement. For me, the music is about resigned grief – but not resigned without a fight! You know?
So. Perfect. And I stood.
On a quasi-related note, it occurred to me that of the four movements of the seventh, the third is my least favorite (which is akin to saying that of all the Narnia books, The Silver Chair is my least favorite; I’ve still read it like eighteen times). And that thought led to another: of the four movements of Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” string quartet, the third is – wait for it – my least favorite. The Shostakovich Piano Trio No. 2? Least favorite: third movement.
In fact, no third movement springs to mind for which I harbor a particular fondness. What gives? Do you agree with my assessment? Or can you correct me with some fantastic third movement examples?