Old Dead Guys

Today has been a day for old dead guys. That's what Cindy and I call the classical composers we like. We are not fans of newer "classical" music for the most part. Too atonal. We like the old dead guys. The guys who wrote music that moves smoothly from one note to the next. Music that tells a story. Music that soothes the soul.

This afternoon, Cindy and I went to see the New York Philharmonic. It's part of our subscription to the Washington Performing Arts Society. This year, the New York Philharmonic will be our only opportunity to hear old dead guys in symphonic form, though we have some soloist shows that will likely include a few. The New York Philharmonic played Liszt, Elgar, and Prokofiev - all old dead guys. All eminently easy on the ears. My personal favorite was the Liszt. Les Preludes. Four parts - love, war, the countryside, and destiny. It's considered a symphonic poem, putting thoughts to music. I could hear those elements. Gentle melodies for love; lots of bass, cellos, and timpany for war; flowing violins and violas with flutes intermixed for the countryside; and all instruments playing with drama leading to a definite conclusion for destiny.

I don't always "get" the music. The Elgar, for example, was supposed to be reminiscent of Italy, which is where he was inspired to write the piece (Concert Overture). I didn't get that feeling with the music. Although it was pleasant to listen to, there were no stories in it for me.

The last piece, the Prokofiev, was 10 pieces from the ballet Romeo and Juliet. More pictures, this time of a storyline I know well and could almost envision how the dancing might go. Again, sweet melodies for Romeo and Juliet's love story; louder and stronger playing for Tybalt's death; sad and yet very dramatic music for Romeo's discovery of Juliet dead on the tomb.

Tonight, I watched The Soloist. In it, Steve Lopez. columnist for the LA Times, talks about how Mr. Ayers is transformed by the music he hears. Not just in the sense of enjoying the music, but actually transformed, taken away from the voices in his head. In the movie, they used colored lights and images dancing to portray this sense of being taken elsewhere by the music. Which I think is interesting because there are some, I've heard, who see color when they hear music. It made me wonder if such a person was the one who chose which colors would be used for which parts of the music. Or perhaps it was just what the director envisioned. Doesn't really matter. What matters is that Mr. Ayers is also a fan of the old dead guys. Specifically in his case, Beethoven. When discovered by Mr. Lopez, Mr. Ayers is playing Beethoven in a park in Los Angeles underneath a statue of Beethoven. Coincidentally, and conveniently (so I wonder if it was done for the movie) the Los Angeles Philharmonic was playing all Beethoven that season. At any rate, it made for a nice plot point that Mr. Ayers and Mr. Lopez went to a rehearsal of one of Beethoven's symphonies and, as noted previously, Mr. Ayers was transported by the music.

So I guess the old dead guys speak to more than just Cindy and me.