Classical Music

My daughter, who is two, sits in the car and really likes to dance in her seat when I put the radio on. However, her current station of choice is BBC Radio 3, which provides a diet of predominantly classical music. This morning she was bouncing away to Brahms Piano Quartet No. 2 in A performed at the Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival.

I don’t play an instrument, never studied music much at school and have the usual eclectic taste. I do, however,  like to play some classical pieces on tour, normally arias from operas accompanied by printed sheets I can give the group that have the lyrics in the language of the performance alongside a translation in English. It is a chance to introduce the plot of an opera and then play the aria. It is wonderful how many times the end of the music is met with: So what happens next?

Turandot is a popular one; everyone should hear Pavarotti sing Nessun Dorma at least once, and I defy them to not want to hear it again. Pagliacci is another favourite: love, betrayal, honour, duty and a man dressed as a clown. Marvellous. Vesti la Giubba is such a moving piece (and, incidentally, the first million selling record when recorded in 1904 by Enrico Carusco). Opera, I tell groups, is for all. Never be put off by the language or the false belief that all men should wear a tuxedo. The stories speak to us on so many levels.

I also like to play classical pieces. The beauty for me is how often it is left to us to create the story. The music surrounds us, and we place the narrative as we want it to be. We can add moments from our own life to the music in a way that always makes sense.

The rather groovy film, Running on Empty, features River Phoenix as a truly gifted pianist who is the son of parents on the run from the law. There’s a great scene when Danny (Phoenix) enters the music class at his latest school. The teacher plays a piece of pop music followed by a classical piece. He asks the class for the difference. He is met with some predictable answers (One’s good; the other isn’t). Finally, Danny raises his hand and offers the line, “You can’t dance to Beethoven.” 

You can’t dance to Beethoven. Quite true. Classical music moves us to think and react in ways that are very different to popular music. My daughter’s actions contradict this, but the larger point is that we listen, we create and we enjoy. What wonderful freedom.  Ironically, the freedom of the two-year-old.