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Music and Bows and Clothes: Oh My!

by Janet Horvath , Interlude

© Bass Bags

It’s hard to believe how many hilarious behind-the-scenes mishaps we musicians experience. Afterwards, once we’ve recovered from the embarrassment, we love to share these stories at parties!

My friend cellist Clay Ruede recently told me this one: He was playing a show on Broadway and he kept a cello at the theater. One Sunday the orchestra was advised that heavy storms were on their way and the theater basement could flood. It would be wise if the musicians removed their instruments from the lockers as a precaution. Clay took his cello home. The following Tuesday, the musicians gathered for the next show and chatted backstage while waiting for the “places” call. When the loud speakers announced, “Places please. Musicians, places,” Clay went to his locker but the cello wasn’t there. It was still at home. Thinking quickly, he ran out to a nearby music shop, he purchased a cheap cello, and got back to the theater and his seat just in time for his first solo. After the show Clay returned the cello for a full refund.

A couple of years later, Clay performed for a different Broadway musical. Just before Showtime a violinist in the orchestra called in a panic that there had been an accident on the highway. Frantic she would be late, she admitted that she’d also forgotten to bring her violin. Clay told her not to worry. He knew what to do! He left the theater, bought a violin for her at the same music shop, and placed the tuned violin and a bow on her chair. The violinist made it just in time for the performance.

© Violinist.com

Forgetting bows or instruments is more common than you might think! Another colleague described how many times his gear enjoyed traveling without him. Roland Hutchinson mentioned how his baryton bow once failed to get off the bus in Eisenstadt (not its fault) and the bow went on to Vienna without him. Fortunately, the bus line found the bow and it was returned without incident before the performance. Another time one of his viols “forgot” to get off the airplane in California and on it went to Hawaii (the airline’s fault). The carrier delivered the instrument to Roland by van the following day. When traveling to South Africa another colleague also left her bow on a plane. Upon reaching the baggage claim area she suddenly remembered the forgotten bow and in a panic raced back to the gate where she found the entire crew gathered around the long box. Lost in speculation they were trying to guess what this mysterious box contained: a flute? A pool cue? Some type of narrow rifle? A baguette?

Losing instruments happens on tour too! Gill Tennant recalls when her youth orchestra traveled to Moscow. An entire tranche of instruments went directly to Moscow but the group first had a concert in Copenhagen where the musicians disembarked. Oops! Fortunately, Copenhagen’s youth orchestra members were able to lend their instruments for the concert. The timpanist wasn’t too happy. The Copenhagen counterpart didn’t have any timpani. This is especially problematic in the fourth movement of Shostakovich Symphony No 5. The timpanist had to stand on a stool to bang on an enormous 15-foot-tall side drum. 

© Orquestra Imperial

Forgetting music is a classic faux pas. Fortunately, many musicians have phenomenal memories at times like these but forgetting where you’re supposed to be going is another story. Freelancers who often have to travel to several different venues find this a frequent mishap. Imagine the chagrin. A colleague played an entire wedding gig. When she asked the bride’s father for payment he was puzzled. They hadn’t booked any musicians. He’d actually thought it was such a nice perk that the venue provided a string player. Meanwhile at the same venue another wedding party wondered what happened to the musician they booked.

It’s easy to show up at the wrong hall. A colleague realized her error and had to walk a half mile on a hot afternoon across town wearing her long black dress and high heeled shoes and of course carrying, a music stand, music bag, and the cello. She made it to the performance on time.

Wardrobe failures plague us too. I remember wearing a lovely sheer cream and rose-colored dress for a chamber music concert. The bright stage lighting shone from behind us. My chamber music partners leaned toward me and whispered that the audience could see right through my skirt. They accommodated this turn of events by standing directly behind me while we exited the stage, trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. We’d hoped the Charles-Marie Widor Piano Quartet in A Minor Op. 66 would be alluring but not that alluring!

Years ago, Clay’s trio was about to make its Washington, DC debut at the Philips Gallery. The Gallery was being renovated, so the concert had to be held at a different venue. There the stage was 8 feet above the audience with the “backstage area” located behind the audience. The musicians had to walk through an aisle in the center of the audience and up a staircase in the middle of the stage to get into playing position. For the Sunday afternoon concert the musicians wore suits and not their customary tails. Clay’s cello was lying in its case on the floor of the so-called “green room.” When he bent over to pick up the cello he heard an embarrassing riiipppp. His pants split all the way from the waistband in the back to the zipper in the front. The pianist sprang into action and followed Clay very closely as they marched back and forth through the audience. Despite everything they got a rave review in the Washington Post, and in hindsight, he said, he was much cooler playing the concert with the additional ventilation.

From John Field to Alexander Scriabin: The Russian Nocturne

by Hermione Lai, Interlude

In our last blog we listened to some of the most beautiful Nocturnes by John Field. He is considered the father of the Nocturne, and his smaller-scale character pieces emerged from a growing salon culture throughout Europe. Field made fantastic use of the technical improvements of the piano, now allowing for a more sustained legato, greater variety of touch, subtler range of dynamics and a highly efficient sustaining pedal.

Anton Wachsmann: John Field, ca 1820 (Gallica: btv1b84179686)

On occasion, one can still hear performances of the Field Nocturnes in the concert halls, but they seem to have been relegated to preparatory exercises for the magnificent Nocturnes of Frédéric Chopin. He took on the legacy of Field’s invention and took this new salon genre to a deeper level of sophistication.

In light of Chopin’s achievements, it is easy to forget that Field’s influence was also felt in Russia. Field made Russia his home between 1802 and 1829, and he was deeply admired as a performer. However, he also set up a highly successful private piano studio, which contributed to the establishment of the Russian piano school and to Russian music itself. Will you join me on a journey through the wonderful world of the Russian Nocturne?

The Glinka Connection

Michael Glinka: Nocturne in E-Flat Major 

When I started looking for John Field’s Russian connections, I came across the marvellous website of pianist and scholar Daniel Pereira. He embarked on an ongoing 15-year research project that looks at the history of universal pianism and its interpreters and teachers. It’s called “Piano Traditions Through their Genealogy Trees” and features thousands of piano connections throughout time, including pianists, teachers and the establishment of national and regional schools of playing.

Mikhail Glinka

Thanks to Daniel Pereira, we can now trace the students of John Field and their role in the Russian Nocturne tradition. One of the biggest names to emerge is Mikhail Glinka (1804-1857), who is generally regarded as the father of Russian music. Apparently, Glinka had a number of piano lessons from Field, and we know that his operas “A Life for the Tsar” and “Lyudmila” are cornerstones of a Russian tradition.

Glinka was surprisingly well travelled, and he personally knew Donizetti, Bellini, Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Auber, and Victor Hugo. But even more interesting for this blog, he also composed a number of piano pieces, including several Nocturnes. His “Nocturne in E-flat Major” dates from 1828 but was published only fifty years later. Some commentators call it “the first Russian Nocturne,” and the connection to Field is obvious. The beautifully flowing and melancholy Nocturne in F minor dates from 1839 and was written for Glinka’s sister while she was away, hence the title “The Separation.”

The Rubinstein Connection

Alexander Villoing

Alexander Villoing (1804-1878) was born of a French émigré family and he studied piano with John Field in Moscow. By 1830, in the tradition of his teacher, he had established his own piano studio and soon enjoyed a reputation as one of the best pedagogues in Russia. Most significantly, in 1837 he was tasked with teaching the eight-year-old Anton Rubinstein. In fact, he is still considered Rubinstein’s only teacher and one of his best friends.

Villoing accompanied his young charge on a European concert tour between 1840 and 1843. He once again toured with Anton, his brother Nikolai and their mother Kalerija Christoforovna between 1844 and 1846. And we know that he became a professor at the St Petersburg Conservatory in 1862, an institution founded by Anton Rubinstein. 

Villoing not only taught at the St Petersburg Conservatory, he also published his “Piano School”, the École pratique du piano in 1863. That particular piano primer was also called “Exercises for the Rubinstein Brother.” It was adopted as the official piano method at the Conservatory, republished several times, and even translated into German and French.

Anton Rubinstein, 1842

As a student of Field, Villoing was almost certainly introduced to the Nocturnes, a tradition he passed on to Anton Rubinstein. Rubinstein started to compose at the age of 12 and established world fame as a pianist. However, he was always keen to establish himself as a composer, and “he was the first Russian composer whose works for solo piano embodied the same serious artistic ideas as his symphonies and chamber music.”

In all, Anton Rubinstein composed eleven Nocturnes, two of them for piano four hands. Thematically charming and pianistically perfect, the Rubinstein Nocturnes are written with great skill and refinement. A critic suggests, “rather than plumbing the deepest emotions, they are far above the average Romantic salon music. 

The Tchaikovsky Connection

Anton Gerke

Among Field’s students, we also find the pianist, composer and teacher Anton Gerke (1812-1870). He was the son of a Polish violinist, and he personally knew Liszt, Thalberg, and Clara Schumann. I don’t know much about his apprenticeship with John Field, but by 1831 he was appointed court pianist in St Petersburg. Gerke was also involved with setting up the Russian Music Society.

Anton Gerke taught at the St Petersburg Conservatory between 1862 and 1870, and among his students were Nikolay Zaremba, Nadeszhda Rimskaya-Korsakova, Modest Mussorgsky, and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Of course, when we look at the Tchaikovsky connections, we also find Anton Rubinstein.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Two Pieces Op. 10, No. 1 “Nocturne in F Major” 

Tchaikovsky and Anton Rubinstein did not get along at all. Tchaikovsky was a student in Rubinstein’s instrumentation classes in the conservatory’s first intake in 1862. Rubinstein was unquestionably the greatest pianist besides Franz Liszt, and he knew it. Rubinstein considered himself a successor of Schubert and Chopin, and he very much disliked Tchaikovsky’s music.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

As Tchaikovsky later wrote, “In my younger days, I very impatiently blazed my way—tried to acquire a name and fame as a composer—and hoped that Rubinstein would help me in my quest for laurels. But I must confess with grief that Anton Rubinstein did nothing, absolutely nothing, to further my desires and projects.”

Tchaikovsky composed his two Nocturnes in the 1870s, and “they are generally regarded as real jewels of Russian music.” He almost certainly knew the Nocturnes by Field, Rubinstein, and Chopin, but he also seems to take his bearing from Glinka. A pianist writes, “Tchaikovsky’s nocturnes abound with the heartfelt poetry of everyday life, and in following Field, places floating melodies above repeated pulsating chords.” Tchaikovsky also loved to place his melodies in the cello register of the piano, “creating an almost orchestral texture.” 

The Glazunov Connection

Alexander Dubuque

We must count the pianist and teacher Alexander Dubuque (1812-1898) among the most influential students of John Field. He was probably of French descent, and as one of the most influential teachers in Russia, Dubuque carried the piano tradition of John Field into the second half of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Among his most distinguished students were Balakirev and Nikolay Zverev, the teacher of Rachmaninoff, Scriabin, and Ziloti. Dubuque was known for an intellectually controlled, poised and precise style that became associated with the Field-Dubuque Moscow tradition. He even published a book on the technique of piano playing and one on his “Reminiscences of Field.”

Mily Balakirev

Both Tchaikovsky and Balakirev dedicated piano pieces to Dubuque, and it was Mily Balakirev, a member of the famed “The Five,” who discovered Alexander Glazunov. Glazunov had started taking piano lessons at the age of nine and fashioned his first compositions at the age of 11. Balakirev took his early compositions to Rimsky-Korsakov, and among his early works, we find two Nocturnes. These youthful works show clear musical attention to texture, clarity of melodic line and harmonic sumptuousness, all attributes going back to John Field.

Alexander Glazunov

The Rachmaninoff Connection

Nikolai Zverev

The Field student Alexander Dubuque also taught Nikolay Zverev, born into an aristocratic family, in 1833. Zverev studied mathematics and physics at Moscow State University, but concurrently, he also took lessons from Dubuque. Zverev inherited a large family fortune and moved to St Petersburg to become a civil servant. Unhappy with his career and urged on by Dubuque, he returned to Moscow to establish his private piano studio. When Nikolai Rubinstein invited him to teach at the Moscow Conservatory, he happily accepted.

Rachmaninoff was only 12 when he auditioned to become Zverev’s student. He was quickly accepted and entered the pianist’s home to receive private piano lessons. Rachmaninoff remembered, “I entered Zverev’s home with a heavy heart and foreboding, having heard tell of his severity and heavy hand, which he had no qualms of resorting to. Indeed, we were able to witness proof of this latter: Zverev had a temper and could launch himself at a person, fists flailing, or hurl some object at the offender. I myself had been the object of his fury on three or four occasions.”

Rachmaninoff continued, “but all other talk of his exacting and severe manner were false. This was a man of rare intellect, generosity and kindness. He commanded a great deal of respect among the best people of his time. Indeed, discipline entered my life.” In May 1886, Zverev took his students to Crimea, where Rachmaninoff continued his studies in hopes of being accepted into Anton Arensky’s class at the Moscow Conservatory.

Sergei Rachmaninoff

It was during this time that Rachmaninoff created his first composition, a now lost Etude in F-sharp Major. He also composed a group of pieces titled “Three Nocturnes,” works regarded as his first serious attempt at writing for the piano. The pieces are not entirely nocturnal in their approach, and they are certainly closer to Field than Chopin. The nocturnes were published only in 1949 without opus number, and while they lack maturity, they are full of suggestions of what was still to come.

First performed in 1892, Rachmaninoff’s C-sharp minor Prelude became his first real hit. In addition, Tchaikovsky tirelessly promoted Rachmaninoff’s talents, and the young composer was exceptionally successful in getting his early compositions into print. Rachmaninoff composed his “Morceaux de salon,” Op. 10, after graduation from the Moscow Conservatory in 1892. A “Nocturne in A minor” opens this collection of piano pieces, and like Field and Chopin, he concentrated on a framework of singing melodies supported by rich harmonies and elaborated by embellishments.

The Scriabin Connection

Georgy Konyus

With Alexander Scriabin we once again find the connection to John Field in the home of Nikolai Zverev. Scriabin had been able to play the piano with both hands by the time he was five, and he was able to reproduce the tunes he heard from passing organ grinders. He received his first formal music lessons from Georgy Konyus, who was not impressed. He writes, “He knew the scales and the tonalities, and with the weak sound of his little fingers which barely carried, he played to me, what exactly, I don’t remember, but it was accurate and satisfactory… he learned pieces quickly, but his performance, it should be remembered, as a result of the shortcomings of his physique, was always ethereal and monotonous.”

Because Scriabin could count on significant family connections, he was able to study with Taneyev, who prepared him for entry to the Moscow Conservatory. And in turn, Taneyev introduced Scriabin to Zverev. Zverev insisted that his students should live in his own house, and Scriabin “learnt not only French and German but also the manners of high society; he was shown great literature and how to drink vodka.”

Scriabin studied among a group of boys of similar age, and that included Rachmaninoff and Goldenweiser. During his study with Zverev, Scriabin performed Schumann’s “Papillons” in the Great Hall of the Charitable Society. That performance showed some obvious talent “despite some inaccuracy.” It was suggested that Scriabin became Zverev’s favourite student, but things changed when his young charge tried his hands at composition. When he dedicated a Nocturne in F-sharp minor to his teacher, later to be published as Op. 5, No. 1, Zverev put his foot down and told him to stop composing.

Alexander Scriabin

From his very beginnings, Scriabin loved the music of Chopin. It’s hardly surprising that we should find a couple of nocturnes in his oeuvre. Stephen Coombs writes, “The Two Nocturnes Op 5, written in 1890, have only the faintest suggestion of reflective ‘night music’ and could as easily have been titled ‘impromptus’ or ‘poems.’ Both pieces display an increased sensuousness and rhythmic freedom together with a more confident and daring use of harmony.”

Scriabin wrote only one more Nocturne, the second of his Two Pieces for Left Hand, Op. 9. Competing against the likes of Rachmaninoff, Hofmann and Lhévinne, Scriabin temporarily lost the full use of his right hand. Eager to prove his ability as a pianist, he turned the Nocturne into a particularly devilish technical exercise. As a pianist wrote, “with Scriabin, the nocturne breaks with the bel canto singing to which it was through John Field, historically linked.” Please join us next time when we take a closer look at the 10 most beautiful Nocturnes by Frédéric Chopin.

The Genius of Felix Mendelssohn 10 Most Popular Works

by Hermione Lai, Interlude

Felix Mendelssohn was one of the 19th century’s most gifted composers. Blending classical elegance with a touch of romantic flair, his music is truly timeless.

Felix Mendelssohn

From the sweeping grandeur of his symphonies to the ethereal charm of his concertos, or the atmospheric depths of his incidental music, Mendelssohn’s compositions continue to captivate audiences worldwide.

To celebrate his birthday on 3 February, here are 10 of Mendelssohn’s most iconic pieces that will showcase his genius. Whether you’re a die-hard fan or a newcomer to his work, this blog brings you the essence of his musical magic.

Midsummer Night’s Dream “Overture”

Felix Mendelssohn: “Overture” to Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 21 

Felix Mendelssohn twice composed music for William Shakespeare’s play A Midsummer Night’s Dream. And would you believe that he composed the immensely popular and famous concert “Overture” at the age of 17!

Edwin Landseer: Scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

The “Overture” is a vibrant and whimsical piece that captures the magic and mischief of Shakespeare’s play. Just listen to the magical opening that evokes the image of fairies flitting through a moonlit forest. There is also a noble fanfare and some truly playful chaos, representing the confusion and comedy of lovers and the mischievous antics of Puck.

Mendelssohn provides a dreamlike conclusion, with the music returning to the ethereal and enchanting melody from the beginning. The “Overture” is a musical journey through the forest of enchantment, sparkling with clarity, lightness, and pure joy.

Violin Concerto

Felix Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64

Are you ready for the ultimate Instagrammable musical joyride? If so, the Violin Concerto by Felix Mendelssohn is your ticket to one of the most famous musical joyrides in classical music.

What a wonderful musical gem that sparkles with youthful energy. It all starts with a thrilling burst of notes, like fireworks lighting up the sky. The orchestra and violinist seem to be playing a delightful game of cat and mouse. The music then softens into a serene and dreamy interlude, with the violin singing an intimate melody that paints images of calmness.

The final movement is like the best party you’ve ever been to. It’s all about joy, with the violin leading a vibrant dance. It is full of life and laughter and lets you forget your worries for a little while.

Piano Trio No. 1

Felix Mendelssohn: Piano Trio in D minor No.1, Op. 49 

The Mendelssohn Piano Trio No. 1 is one of the most popular chamber compositions. When Robert Schumann first heard the piece, he wrote, “Mendelssohn is the Mozart of the 19th century.”

The piano immediately sets the stage for a sweeping melody in the cello, quickly joined by the violin. That opening movement switches back and forth between vibrant energy and quiet longing, a continuous emotional flow.

A “Song without Words” is followed by a “Scherzo” that reminds us of the airy passages in the Midsummer Night’s Overture. The initial piano theme of the finale keeps returning, and two expressive cantabile sections add a touch of introspection.

Songs Without Words

Felix Mendelssohn: Songs Without Words, Op. 19, No. 1 

Mendelssohn’s Lieder ohne Worte (Songs Without Words) are like bubbles of musical joy, floating through time with an effervescent charm. And did you know that Mendelssohn actually invented this genre of “wordless songs.”

These pieces are incredibly popular as they delicately balance simplicity and sophistication. Although there are no lyrics, each piece tells a story or invites the listeners to create their own narrative.

Just listen to the beautiful flowing melodic lines with a hint of virtuosity. These pieces speak directly to the heart, conveying universal human experiences and emotions. And they are accessible even to amateur pianists.

Elijah

Felix Mendelssohn: Elijah, “He, Watching over Israel” 

The oratorio Elijah is not simply a musical experience, it is also a spiritual one. Incredibly popular with singers and audiences, it offers beauty, drama, and devotion.

Manuscript of Mendelssohn’s Elijah

Elijah is based on the biblical story from the Books of Kings concerning the prophet Elijah. It is a dramatic portrayal of his life, focusing on his miracles, his challenge to the priests of Baal, his confrontation with Queen Jezebel, and his ascension to heaven.

“He, Watching over Israel” is one of the most beloved choruses, as it is inherently calming and serene. Intended to provide solace, the music gently rises and falls to invoke the idea of an ever-watchful and loving guardian.

Italian Symphony

Felix Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 4 in A Major, Op. 90 “Italian” 

Felix Mendelssohn’s “Italian” Symphony is a wonderful auditory postcard from Italy. This incredibly popular work captures the vibrant spirit and scenic beauty Mendelssohn experienced during his trip to the land of music.

Mendelssohn’s painting of the Amalfi Coast

Blending dance-like rhythms with soaring melodies, the first movement bursts with excitement. It is like strolling through a lively Italian town. The lyrical and serene second movement evokes the calm of the countryside, and the third sounds a serenade in the moonlight.

The Final Celebration unleashes a whirlwind of notes that imitates the joyous dances in the streets of Rome or Naples. This symphony has it all: the warmth of the Italian sun, gorgeous melodies, and plenty of dance rhythms.

Octet

Felix Mendelssohn: Octet in E-flat Major, Op. 20 

It’s almost unbelievable, but Mendelssohn wrote his first chamber masterpiece at the age of 16! The Octet channels all the exuberance, creativity, and passion of youth into an incredible piece of music.

Mendelssohn weaves together eight instruments in a display of youthful energy and brilliance. It’s like a roller coaster of emotions and sounds that feel modern and timeless all at once.

The Octet is pure sparkling creativity! And while we are captivated by the energetic outer movements, it also contains moments of profound beauty in the slow movement. It’s an unbelievable range of emotions from a composer that young.

Piano Concerto No. 1

Felix Mendelssohn: Piano Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 25 

At the age of 22, Mendelssohn fell in love with Delphine von Schauroth. They played lots of piano duets together, and his first Piano Concerto was the result of his infatuation.

It seems that Delphine composed an important passage for this work, but we really don’t know which one. Could it be the melancholy theme from the opening movement that returns in the final movement and provides the musical and emotional bond for the work?

We may never know for sure, but the relationship did not last. Mendelssohn eventually married Cécile Jeanrenaud, and Delphine wedded in succession the English clergyman Edwin Hill-Handley, Stephan Freiherr Henning von Eberg and Edward Knight.

Hebrides Overture

Felix Mendelssohn: The Hebrides, Op. 26 “Fingal’s Cave” 

The Hebrides Overture, also known as “Fingal’s Cave”, is a musical postcard from one of nature’s most dramatic spectacles. Mendelssohn visited Scotland and the Cave in 1829, and it inspired one of his most popular works.

This musical painting is less about melody and more about evoking the rugged atmosphere of the Hebrides. Just listen as the cellos and basses mimic the deep swells of the ocean, setting a majestic and mysterious scene.

It’s actually a story without words, where the music itself is the narrative, depicting the cave, the sea, and the rugged Scottish coastline. In the woodwinds you can actually hear the almost supernatural echo from inside the cave.

Wedding March

I’ve left the most popular selection for last. Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” is one of the most famous pieces of classical music. It originates in the play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and accompanies the wedding scene of Theseus and Hippolyta.

The reason it’s become one of the most popular pieces by Mendelssohn actually has to do with a specific wedding. In 1858, Princess Victoria, Queen Victoria’s daughter, used it for her wedding recessional, and it has since become a staple in wedding traditions around the world.

Sheet music for Mendelssohn’s wedding march

It really encapsulates the very essence of romance and joy. The melody is pure and uplifting, and it seems to carry the weight of happiness and the promise of a blissful future. Mendelssohn wrote the music for a specific scene, but it transcended its original context to become a symbol of matrimonial joy and celebration.

Mendelssohn’s music, featuring classical elegance and romantic passion, continues to captivate audiences worldwide. With plenty of melodic richness and profound emotional depth, his music maintains enduring popularity for its ability to convey joy, beauty, and a timeless sense of celebration.

Philippines National Artist for Music (1973) Antonio Molina

Antonio Jesus Naguiat Molina - his music and his life

 

Antonio Jesus Naguiat Molina was born on the 26th of December, 1894, in Quiapo, Manila. He is the son of Juan Molina, a customs inspector during the final years of the Spanish regime, and Simeona Naguiat. Antonio Molina was married to Pilar Siauingco with whom he had six children - among them are: Rostia, a pianist; Exequiel (Lito), a jazz artist and journalist; and, Antonio Maria, Jr., a US-based conductor and composer.

His most important orchestral works are Misa Antoniana Grand Festival Mass (1964) and Ang Batingaw (1972). Among his chamber music compositions are Prelude and Romanz for cello and piano (1928) and Bontok Rhapsody. Some of his piano works are Malikmata (1939) and We Were Moonlight (1941).

Antonio Sr.'s father founded the 22-piece Orquestra Molina, whose members lived and rehearsed in the family residence. At 12, Antonio Sr. could play the violin. The bandurria, mandolin, guitar, laud, bajo de unas and octavina, and the cello all followed later. 

He received his Bachelor's degree in 1909 at the Colegio de San Juan de Letran. Prior to that, he also went to the Escuela de Catolica de Quiapo, where he began his first formal schooling. In 1919, he enrolled at the University of the Philippines (UP) Conservatory of Music. His teachers included Nicanor Abelardo and the Conservatory Director, Robert Schofield. He obtained his teacher's diploma in 1923. From 1922 to 1924, he concertised extensively in Hanoi and other parts of Indo-China. He also taught at the UP Conservatory of Music and then at the Centro Escolar University. He functioned both as organizer and conductor of Philippine choral and rondalla music groups wherein he was also actively involved. He conducted the premiere of the Bach's Christmas Oratorio on the 14th of December, 1947, the first performance of Mozart's opera, Don Giovanni, and the first television choral concert to be presented in the Philippines. 

Molina's first composition, "Matinal" (1912), is preserved in an unpublished volume called Miniaturas, Vol. I. According to the composer, they are called Miniaturas because they do not seem to have arrived at a category of serious musical works. They are merely combinations of melody and harmony conceived during a moment of enthusiasm, passion, or humour, and later written down. They are products of inspiration and instinct, and not of technical studies in music. He then wrote a set of waltzes, Lamentos de mi Patria (Laments of my Fatherland) in 1913, and "Hatinggabi", his most famous violin piece (1915).

His hundreds of compositions include a sarswela entitled "Ana Maria", done while he was still in school. His most important orchestral works are Misa Antoniana Grand Festival Mass (1964) and Ang Batingaw (1972). Among his chamber music compositions are Prelude and Romanz for cello and piano (1928) and Bontok Rhapsody. Some of his piano works are Malikmata (1939) and We Were Moonlight (1941). His major works are composed of chamber music, choral, piano, violin, theatre, voice and violoncello music. Many of his works still have not been published.

Antonio Molina received numerous awards such as the Conductor of the Year Award (1953) from the Music Lovers' Society, the UP Conservatory Alumni Award and the Phi Kappa Beta Award (1972), among others. He was the first musician to be conferred the National Artist Award (12th June, 1972).

Antonio Molina, Sr. died on the 29th of January, 1980.

Why does classical music make us cry?

Why does classical music make us cry? Pictured: Yukiko Ogura (Philharmonia Principal Viola). Picture: Getty / Camilla Greenwell

By Maddy Shaw Roberts

Catchy music makes you tap your foot. Emotive music catches you off guard and without warning, has your eyes pricking and nose running. So why do we have this physiological response to music? 

Think about your favourite piece of music… and then imagine hearing it live for the first time. If you’re having a trouble, have a listen to this beautiful piece of Bach for solo piano:

Blind pianist Lucy plays enchanting Bach 'Prelude in C' in Royal Albert Hall debut | Classic FM Live

Or if that didn’t conjure up much, try this – the stirring second movement of Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto:

Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.2 (I) - Jeneba Kanneh-Mason | Classic FM

If you felt a lump in your throat or a stinging sensation in your eyes, you wouldn’t be alone. Music can elicit highly emotional responses – a 2017 survey of 892 adults found that nearly 90% had experienced feeling like crying when listening to music.

Outside of musical enjoyment, crying can be a great cathartic release, helping to relieve stress when we’re feeling sad or anxious. Tears contain stress hormones, which are released from our bodies when we cry. But why do we cry to music?

IT can feel like music speaks directly to our hearts. Think of the other emotional contexts music is used in, from rousing hymns at weddings, to poignant elegies at funerals, and rousing marches at graduations as we begin our adult lives.

Shedding a few tears to music is considered a healthy response. It can help us process our deepest emotions in a safe setting – in a concert hall, surrounded by fellow music lovers, at a ceremony, or perhaps at home, listening to a recording.

One of the main purposes of music is to communicate something beautiful for our collective appreciation. So if the music makes you cry, it’s probably doing its job right.

When we feel an emotional response to the music, it can be down to familiarity. Music conjures of memories of the past – of a loved one, a dream or a family member – and hearing great classical music can help connect us to times gone by, creating create a sense of poignancy that this music was also enjoyed by audiences over 200 years ago.

Tears are often invoked when the musical choices feel familiar. In the build-up to the great pianistic climax in Rachmaninov’s concerto, anticipation builds and the reward circuit in our brain is triggered, as the ‘expected’ moment in the music finally arrives and the feeling of tension and anticipation is released.

Crying to music can help us process our deepest emotions in a safe setting. Picture: Alamy

Our physiological reactions can be down to pure musical appreciation – the feeling of awe we experience at experiencing art performed at a high level.

We might feel awestruck at the virtuosity of the performers, or the intricacy of the musical writing. Techniques like long melodic phrases, harmonic tension and resolve, and changes in intensity can elicit feelings of satisfaction, hope and even hopelessness.

Studies show that dramatic changes in dynamics, rhythm and texture can light up the brain, and that satisfying harmonic journeys can trigger the reward-related regions of our brains.

When words are difficult, music can communicate the unsayable – that’s a paraphrase of a quote by Hans Christian Andersen, who once said, “Where words fail, music speaks”.

The point is, there’s also something to be said for the wordlessness of orchestral music. Much like a ballet, the narrative created with music and no words can make us feel on a deeper level that speaks to everyone universally.

Whether you cry or get goosebumps while listening to music can also depend on your personality type. Read more about that in this study.