Most Fun Classical Songs and Popular Tunes for Easter

By Hermione Lai, Interlude

Pandemics come and pandemics go, but Easter will surely return every year. For many Christians around the world this is the most important holiday of the year. It commemorates the Passion of Christ, starting with the Last Supper and culminating with the crucifixion and death of Jesus. But above all, it celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The time around Easter, in many cultures and in different parts of the world is connected with a sense of renewal. Hurrah, Spring is finally coming!

Here Comes Peter Cottontail 

“Here comes Peter Cottontail”

Easter is not just a religious or nature ritual, but it is also connected with some very fun traditions for children and for those young at heart. And Easter wouldn’t be Easter without some beautiful, popular, uplifting and joyful music. So here comes my personal playlist of the most fun classical songs and popular tunes for Easter. Let’s get started with the long-eared and short-tailed creature who delivers decorated eggs to well-behaved children on Easter Sunday. Yes, I am talking about the Easter Bunny. You won’t find him mentioned in the bible, but Peter Cottontail is definitely a hugely popular Easter tradition. 

Duke Ellington: Cotton Tail (Dee Dee Bridgewater)

Duke Ellington

The young Easter Bunny Peter Cottontail lives in April Valley together with his fellow Easter Bunnies. They make Easter candies, sew bonnets, and they decorate and deliver Easter eggs. But trouble starts brewing when Peter Cottontail, who is somewhat unreliable and gossipy, is supposed to be appointed Chief Easter Bunny. An evil rabbit named January Q. Irontail also wants the job, but his motivation is a little different. He wants to ruin Easter for children as revenge for a child roller-skating over his tail. Now he has to wear an artificial tail, and he is not a happy bunny. After much intrigue, scheming, and treachery, Irontail does become the new Chief Easter Bunny. He quickly passes various laws to make Easter a disaster. Eggs have to be painted brown and gray, candy sculptors become tarantulas and octopuses, and instead of Easter bonnets, he orders that Easter rubber boots be made. Of course, things do work out in the end, and Cottontail, all reformed and reliable becomes the official Chief Easter Bunny.

Peter Rabbit

The animated television special of Peter Cottontail dates from 1971, but the character of Peter Rabbit has a long tradition in children’s literature. Beatrix Potter first introduced Peter Rabbit in 1902. It became a huge hit, and she wrote five more books on the subject. “Cottontail” also became the inspiration for the great American composer, pianist and jazz orchestra leader Duke Ellington. When he returned to the US after a successful tour of Europe in 1940, he composed the jazz standard “Cotton Tail.” For jazz aficionados the tune “foreshadows bebop in the rhythmic inflections and melody line.” Jon Hendrick wrote the lyrics accompanying the tune based on the familiar Peter Rabbit fairytale. Personally, I really love the scat tribute to Ella Fitzgerald performed by Dee Dee Bridgewater, as her voice skips and hops across the musical landscape.

Philip Henrik Johnsen: Church Music-Easter Sunday 1757 “Allegro”

Hinrich Philip Johnsen

Our next Easter selection takes us to a completely different time and place. The time is the mid-18th century, and the place is Stockholm in Sweden. There had been a bit of trouble deciding on the royal succession, and in the end Adolf Fredrik, Duke of Holstein-Gottorp was elected to the throne of Sweden. The Duke had to pick up his entire household for his move to Stockholm, and he brought his own musicians along. That included a young clavier player named Hinrich Philip Johnsen (1717-1779). He probably hailed from Germany, and he was regarded as a prominent contrapuntist and organ improviser. He composed some delightful and cheerful music for the Easter Sunday service in 1757. The reason we know that it was composed in 1757 is because the composer put the date in the title. The music is very cheerful indeed, and even though the composer is not a household name, it’s a really fun Classical Song for Easter. 

Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov: Russian Easter Festival, Op. 36

Russian Easter Festival

Everybody has his or her favorite Easter traditions and memories. The Russian composer Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov remembers the celebration of Easter “as a large gathering of people from every walk of life, with several popes conducting cathedral service… the old liturgical chants and nearby monastery bells ringing out.” In 1887/88 he decided to musically encode his childhood memories, growing up in Tikhvin, in Novgorod province. The orchestra was Rimsky-Korsakov’s instrument, and he composed a brilliant and wonderful score. As he wrote, “I want to reproduce the legendary and heathen aspect of the holiday, and the transition from the solemnity and mystery of the evening of Passion Saturday to the unbridled pagan-religious celebrations of Easter Sunday morning.” You can hear all the excitement of the crowds in that beautiful and fun Classical Song for Easter. 

Vally Weigl, wife of Karl Weigl © Weigl Foundation

Karl Weigl: 6 Children Songs, No. 4 “To the Easter Bunny”

Karl Weigl was born in Vienna in February 1881. He showed some exceptional musical talent and his parents sent him for private lessons with Alexander Zemlinsky. From his very beginnings as a composer, it became clear that he had a passion for vocal music. His settings of “Six Children’s Songs” to poems by his second wife Vally date from between 1932-1944. They are written in English because Weigl and his family had to flee to the United States when Hitler annexed Austria in 1938. Weigl had a gift for melodic invention, “as well as simple onomatopoeic devices such as the hopping appoggiaturas in his “To the Easter Bunny.” It’s all about the Easter Bunny delivering his brightly-colored Easter eggs. What a fun and hopping Classical song for Easter. 

Irving Berlin: Easter Parade

Easter Parade

Easter Parades are said to date back to the early days of Christianity. But they really got going in New York City in the mid-1800s. It was an entirely social event. After the upper crust of society attended Easter services at various churches alongside Fifth Avenue, they strolled outside to show off their new spring outfits and hats. They soon attracted ordinary onlookers wanting to see what the rich and famous were up to, and the tradition of the Easter parade was born. It was highly popular during the mid-20th century, and it even inspired the very popular film “Easter Parade” in 1948. Starring Fred Astaire and Judy Garland, the music was composed by Irving Berlin. Plenty of popular tunes for Easter in that hit production.

Irving Berlin: Easter Parade (MGM Studio Orchestra; Johnny Green, cond.; Roger Edens, piano; Betty Rome, vocals; Blanche Arnaud, vocals; Camilla Holliday, vocals; Fred Astaire, vocals; Gene Curtsinger, vocals; Loolie Jane Norman, soprano; Misses Doxie, vocals; Mel-Tones, vocals; Judy Garland, vocals; Peter Lawford, vocals; Ann Miller, vocals; Dick Beavers, vocals; Clinton Sundberg, vocals; The Lyttle Sisters, choir; Eadie Griffith, piano; Rack Goodwin, piano; MGM Studio Chorus, choir)

Bonnie and Clyde

Thomas Newman: The Highwaymen, “Easter Morning”

Talking about films, in 2019 Kevin Costner and Woody Harrelson starred in the period crime drama “The Highwaymen”. Essentially, it’s the famed story of the notorious outlaws Bonnie and Clyde, and includes a haunting track detailing some sad events on “Easter Morning.”

 

Andrew Lloyd Webber: Jesus Christ Superstar, “I don’t know how to love him”

Jesus Christ Superstar © Pamela Raith

Andrew Lloyd Webber is called “the most commercially successful composer in history.” Several of his musicals have run for more than a decade in the West End and on Broadway, and surely you know such hit songs as “The Music of the Night” from The Phantom of the Opera, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” from Evita, and “Memory” from Cats. One of his earlier and rather controversial projects was the 1970 rock opera “Jesus Christ Superstar.” The story is loosely based on the accounts of the last week of Jesus’ life, and it focuses on the personal psychology of the characters. Audiences were rather shocked by the controversial portrayals of Mary Magdalene, and her unrequited love for Jesus. “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” presents her personal confusion in understanding her attraction to Jesus. This gorgeous tune became hugely popular, and it stormed the pop hit charts. 

Sergei Rachmaninoff: “Fantaisie tableaux,” Suite No. 1, Op. 5, No. 4 “Pâques (Easter)”

Rachmaninoff, 1901

As a boy, Sergei Rachmaninoff was frequently taking to Russian Orthodox Church services by his grandmother. He was absolutely enchanted by the rituals, and the sounds of church bells and liturgical chants never left him. His Suite No. 1 for two pianos dates from the summer of 1893, and as he explained, “it consists of a series of musical pictures.” Maybe, these musical pictures are based on poetic excerpts, and the work is dedicated to Tchaikovsky. The final tone picture is called Pâques (Easter), and it takes us back to Rachmaninoff’s childhood and the beautiful ringing of bells. For me personally, it is one of the most fun Classical songs for Easter. Easter celebrations and traditions vary widely across the world. No matter how you celebrate Easter or the coming of Spring, there is plenty of fantastic music for that special occasion. What are some of your musical Easter favourites?

Nicknamed Compositions by Johann Sebastian Bach

By Hermione Lai

Johann Sebastian Bach was known as a strict disciplinarian, and apparently he never really got on well with his students. During his early professional days in Arnstadt, Bach got into a fight with a student after he called him a “nanny-goat bassoonist” during rehearsal. The story goes that Bach was attacked with a large stick and that the two men exchanged blows. Scholars have probed Bach’s personality and suggested, “he did have anger management issues, and yet he had the capacity for tenderness.”

3D portrait of J.S. Bach by Hadi Karimi

For most of his life, Bach was insanely busy with work. But let’s not forget that during his two marriages, he sired twenty children and that his son Carl Philipp Emanuel called his father’s household in Leipzig a “pigeon coop.” An eminent musician and scholar writes, “Bach had normal flaws and failings, which makes him very approachable. But he had this unfathomably brilliant mind and a capacity to hear music and then to deliver music that is beyond the capacity of pretty well any musician before or since.” I suppose this means that Bach was a highly practical and well-organized individual and that he did not really take the time to give nicknames to the majority of his more than 1,000 compositions. Scholars, critics, or the circumstances of composition, as we have already seen with Haydn, Mozart, Schubert, and Beethoven supplied many of these nicknames. Let’s get started with some nicknamed compositions by Johann Sebastian Bach. 

The collection of six concertos for several instruments, better known as the “Brandenburg Concertos,” are some of the best orchestral compositions by Bach. In fact, they are arguably some of the best orchestral compositions of the entire Baroque era. That particular nickname does not come from Bach, but from the circumstance surrounding their composition. Bach was employed by Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen in 1719, and the Prince sent Bach to Berlin to try out and negotiate for a new harpsichord for the court.

Title page of J.S. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto

Once he had arrived, Bach informally played on a couple of instruments in the presence of Christian Ludwig, the Margrave of Brandenburg-Schwedt. Bach probably played some of his famous improvisations, and he was invited to send some compositions to the Margrave. Bach really did not take this commission seriously until two years later, when Prince Leopold sacked him for insubordination. Now that he had to look for employment elsewhere, he remembered the commission and he sent the Margrave six instrumental compositions. According to the composer “they were written to exploit the resources of Cöthen.” However, these resources did not seem to have been available to the Margrave of Brandenburg. As such, Bach received no thanks, no fees, and no employment offer.

Manuscript of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto

The autograph manuscript of the “Brandenburg Concertos” stayed in the Margrave’s library until his death in 1734, and it was then sold to the archives of the city of Brandenburg for the equivalent of 20 US dollars. Rediscovered only in 1849, the “Brandenburg Concertos” were first published in 1850. And we are very lucky to still have the autograph manuscript, as it was nearly destroyed by aerial bombardment during World War II. The unlikely hero turns out to have been a librarian, who hid the scores under his coat. 

In 1715, Gottfried Zimmermann opened his famous café in Leipzig. Located in the most elegant street of Leipzig, Zimmermann began to host Friday evening concerts to attract customers. The Collegium Musicum founded by Georg Philipp Telemann started performances there in 1720, and by the time Johann Sebastian Bach moved to Leipzig in 1723, it had become a chic meeting place for the middle classes and gentlemen. “While single women were forbidden from frequenting the café, they could attend the public concerts.” Bach took over the “Collegium” concerts between 1729 and 1739, and the concerts held at the Zimmermann café lasted about two hours. The music consisted of German and Italian opera, chamber music, works for orchestra, and secular cantatas. Experts are unsure if Bach’s Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht (Be still, stop chatting,) BWV 211 was actually performed at this venue, but it certainly became highly popular under the nickname “Coffee Cantata.” It dates from 1735 and is a delicious mini-opera centered on a comic dispute between a father and his daughter and her coffee-drinking addiction. The heroine Aria just loves coffee, and she complains bitterly:

Café Zimmermann in Leipzig, 1720

Father sir, but do not be so harsh!
If I couldn’t, three times a day,
be allowed to drink my little cup of coffee,
in my anguish I will turn into
a shriveled-up roast goat.

Ah! How sweet coffee tastes,
more delicious than a thousand kisses,
milder than muscatel wine.
Coffee, I have to have coffee,
and, if someone wants to pamper me,
ah, then bring me coffee as a gift!

Father and daughter eventually reconcile, and the nickname “Coffee Cantata” might easily have originated during Bach’s day. As we can see, Bach wasn’t a mere workaholic; he also knew how to have fun.  

In 1741, Johann Sebastian Bach published the 4th part of his “Keyboard Exercises” under the title “Clavier Übung bestehend in einer Aria mit verschiedenen Verænderungen vors Clavicimbal mit 2 Manualen.” Translated this simply means “Keyboard Exercise, consisting of an Aria with diverse variations for harpsichord with two manuals.” The first edition published by Balthasar Schmid in Nuremberg further states that it “was composed for connoisseurs, for the refreshment of their spirits.” Today every music lover knows this set simply under the name “Goldberg Variations.” Bach composed the work on commission from Herman Karl von Keyserlingk, the Russian ambassador to Saxony. Count Keyserlingk suffered from extended bouts of insomnia, and to ease his torment during the dark and long hours of the night, he instructed his private harpsichordist Johann Gottlieb Goldberg to play for him in the antechamber. Apparently, the Count once mentioned in Bach’s presence that he would like to have some clavier pieces for Goldberg. Goldberg was an exceptionally talented keyboard performer, and musicians marveled at his ability suggesting, “never there was anybody who was a stronger player.” While Goldberg was a phenomenal performer, the Bach biographer Nicolaus Forkel tells us that “he had no special talent for composition.”

Glenn Gould’s markings on Bach’s Goldberg Variations

Since Count Keyserlingk was looking for pieces “which should be of such smooth and somewhat lively character that he might be a little cheered up by them in his sleepless nights,” Bach went to work and composed the variation set. He officially presented a copy of the first edition to Count Keyserlingk, and was rewarded with a golden goblet filled with 100 gold “Louis d’or,” a veritable fortune. Among the most sophisticated works ever written for keyboard, the Goldberg Variations are sublime and compassionate, graceful, warm, and relentlessly intricate. Nobody would dare to call them “Keyboard Exercises” today.

In his day, Johann Sebastian Bach was primarily known as a keyboard virtuoso. At the age of 23, he was appointed court musician in the chapel of Duke Johann Ernst in Weimar. He would only stay for seven months, but his reputation as a keyboard genius had already reached the town of Arnstadt, and he was quickly invited to inspect the new organ, and he gave the inaugural recital at Saint Boniface. His appointment as organist soon followed, but he was dissatisfied with the standards of the singers in the choir. So, when he was offered the position of organist at Saint Blasius in Mühlhausen, he quickly took up the invitation. His reputation as a performer continued to grow, and in 1708 he returned to Weimar as organist and concertmaster at the ducal court. Surrounded by professional musicians, Bach began to compose keyboard and orchestral works, including the preludes and fugues that would eventually make up his “Well-Tempered Clavier.”

In addition, the majority of his organ works were composed during his tenure in Weimar, and Bach performed them regularly in concerts at the court. Among Bach’s magnificent organ compositions, we find the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV 538. This work is not to be confused with the Toccata and Fugue in D minor BWV 565, which has become a spooky Halloween favorite. In fact, BWV 538 carries the somewhat cryptic nickname “Dorian.” This particular nickname makes reference to one of the eight medieval church modes. If we were to play Dorian mode on a piano today, we would only use the white keys of the keyboard from D to D. And most importantly, there would be no key signature. And that is true of Bach’s “Dorian Toccata and Fugue,” as it is written without key signature. That means that the entire composition has an ancient modal, that is “Dorian” quality. 

When Johann Sebastian Bach died on 28 July 1750, he left behind an incomplete musical work of unspecified instrumentation. The work consists of 14 fugues and 4 canons in D minor, and Bach scholars call it “an in-depth exploration of the contrapuntal possibilities inherent in a single musical subject.” It’s almost unbelievable, but Bach composed all these magnificent fugues and canon based on a single melody. This sounds simple, but it is in reality a highly complex process of rules and restrictions. Yet for the musical and expressive genius Johann Sebastian Bach, the possibilities within these restrictions were endless. He demonstrates every compositional technique and method known to him, but sadly the collection remained unfinished. While weaving his musical signature B-A-C-H into a 4-voice triple fugue on three subjects, Bach died. Today, The Art of the Fugue “stands as not only the ultimate monument to his own wide-ranging genius but an enduring shrine to the art of an entire epoch. Yet it is no dry memorial. Although incomplete, quixotic, and partly abstract, it has attracted, challenged, and enthralled musicians, scholars, and listeners of every era.”

Bach’s unfinished fugue

We don’t exactly know why Bach started this collection at the end of his life, but it was written during a time when the musical style was undergoing a fundamental change. Counterpoint was being phased out in favor of an emerging homophonic style. As a Bach supporter wrote, “one very soon becomes tired of insipid little ditties that consist of nothing but consonances,” and a respected theorist praised the Art of the Fugue “as a bulwark against contemporary rubbish.” It seems that Bach wanted to make a musical statement, but what about the title? The earliest manuscript shows the following inscription on the title page, “Die Kunst der Fuga di Signore Joh. Seb. Bach.” However, that title page was written by Bach’s son-in-law Johann Christoph Altnickol. Did Bach dictate that particular title to Altnickol, or was that title common currency or simply a pointed nickname?

Johann Sebastian Bach, as we have already seen with the “Goldberg Variations,” wrote and published four sets of works under the title “Keyboard Exercises.” The third set, probably composed in 1739 opens with a huge Prelude in E-flat major followed by 21 chorale preludes, four duets, and a closing Fugue in E-flat major. As such, the prelude and fugue are not actually connected to each other. This only changed when Felix Mendelssohn told everybody that they should be performed as a single Prelude and Fugue in E-flat major.

Bach’s fugue “St. Anne”

The prelude is one of the largest organ pieces that Bach ever wrote, and the fugue features three subjects based on a common theme. That theme is similar in melody to William Croft’s hymn tune “O God our Help in ages past.” It is doubtful that Bach ever knew that particular hymn tune, but the nickname “St. Anne” for the E-flat fugue, attached in the 19th century, has stuck. 

Let us stick to Bach’s “Keyboard Exercises” for our concluding example. The second part was published in 1735, and on the title page we read, “Keyboard Exercises consisting in a Concerto after Italian Taste and an Overture after the French Manner for a Harpsichord with Two Manuals, composed for Music Lovers, to Refresh Their Spirits, by Johann Sebastian Bach, Kapellmeister to His Highness the Prince of Anhalt-Cöthen and Director Chori Musici Lipsiensis.” Since Bach essentially composed a solo concerto in Italian style, the nickname “Italian Concerto” is not far-fetched.

Title page of Bach’s Keyboard Exercises Part 2

Even one of Bach’s greatest critics openly admired this work and wrote in 1739, “Finally I must mention that concertos are also written for one instrument alone…There are some quite good concertos of this kind, particularly for clavier. But pre-eminent is a clavier concerto of which the author is the famous Bach in Leipzig. Who is there who will not admit at once that this clavier concerto is to be regarded as a perfect model of a well-designed solo concerto? It would take as great a master of music as Mr. Bach provided us with such a piece, which deserves emulation by all our great composers and which will be imitated all in vain by foreigners.” Bach specified that the “Italian Concerto was to be performed on a two-manual harpsichord. In that way, he provides clear indications for softs and louds, for the keyboard interaction between the soloist and orchestra, and how the concerto was to unfold.

Funniest Shows in Classical Music “All the Right Notes, Not Necessarily in the Right Order”

by Hermione Lai

Don’t laugh, but my favorite quote on music is spoken by Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Harry Potter series. Listening to the school orchestra he says, “Ah, Music… a magic beyond all we do here!” Many people have written on the magic and power of music, but there are only two things they consistently agree upon. For one, music cannot be translated into the language of words, and secondly, the musical universe belongs to everyone, regardless of race, creed, age, or status in life.

Igudesman & Joo and Yuja Wang

The ultimate meaning of music, some people say, lies in the sounds themselves and in the ears of the listener, which means it is for the most part highly subjective. When it comes to humor in music, it has to be funny for musical reasons, as music can’t make jokes about anything except itself. Western Classical music and its conventions have a reputation for being very serious, but I want to introduce you to a couple of highly talented musicians who turn such clichés into pure and unadulterated fun.

Let’s get started with the pairing of Igudesman & Joo, alongside special guest Emanuel Ax. The story line is simple; Violinist Igudesman has hired Ax instead of Joo for a performance of Beethoven’s “Spring Sonata,” but somehow had forgotten to tell.

Aleksey Igudesman and Hyung-ki Joo met at the age of twelve at the Yehudi Menuhin School in England, “and became friends over a portion of fish and chips.” Igudesman hails from Leningrad, and he has never won any competitions, “mainly because he has never entered any.” During his studies at the Yehudi Menuhin School, he read the entire plays of Shaw, Wilde, and Chekhov, which didn’t improve his violin playing, but made him feel foolishly somewhat superior to other less intellectually endowed, yet harder practicing, colleagues. He is a violinist, composer, conductor, comedian, filmmaker, actor, writer, poet, and entrepreneur, “but his secret passion is cooking, eating out in luxurious restaurants, and writing reviews on TripAdvisor.” Joo started piano lessons at the age of eight and won a place at the Yehudi Menuhin School two years later. “There, he discovered that he was among geniuses and child prodigies and was convinced he would be kicked out of school.” Inspired by Victor Borge and Dudley Moore, they decided to combine classical music with comedy and popular culture to sidesplitting effects.

Superstar classical performers such as Emanuel Ax, Janine Jansen, Gidon Kremer, Mischa Maisky, Viktoria Mullova, and recently the incredible superstar pianist Yuja Wang have joined Igudesman & Joo. However, they are not just simply presenting music at the highest level, but also performing at a moment in culture, in which an increased desire to confront stereotypes is meeting an increased sensitivity about racial characterizations. Some commentators wrote, “their concert with Ms. Wang was riddled with jokes about her sexual appeal and Chinese heritage that ranged from unpleasant to highly offensive.” To all three performers, the show’s jokes were intentional, “and meant to satirize issues of race and sex in the music industry. Our goal is not to offend but to show the offenses for what they are.” And Yuja Wang added, “The amount of vile, sexist, anonymous (or sometimes not, when it’s in print) comments publicly directed at me and so many others are astonishing. So, I have decided to take control of my own narrative, and have some fun while doing it.” 

The music industry, just like the world of athletics, is full of intense competition. Both disciplines require thousands of hours of preparation for competitive performances that may last just a few minutes, or in the case of some athletic events, just a few seconds. However, there is a fundamental difference because athletes love competitions, and musicians hate them. Béla Bartók once famously said, “competitions are for horses, not for artists.” And there is one more fundamental difference. Most athletic events are based on objective measurements, “but in music, all sorts of qualities are being judged, qualities like beauty, sweetness, and loveliness. How can you call somebody who plays beautifully a loser?” Probably one of the most popular and enduring myths in classical music is the idea that an artist takes the stage as an unknown, and leaves it as a star. By now, the chamber music quartet from Hamburg named “Salut Salon” is already a star ensemble, and Vivaldi’s “Summer” from the Four Seasons becomes the acrobatic stage for an intensely funny musical competition. 

The funniest jokes work by setting up expectations and then doing something shocking, surprising, unexpected, or even absurd. Leonard Bernstein loved to tell this joke to make his point. An elephant is making fun of a mouse because the mouse was so tiny. So the elephant said, “Huh, look at you, you little shrimp, you peanut, you’re not even as big as my left toenail!” And the mouse said, “Well listen, I’ve been sick.” It is funny because the answer is so unexpected and shocking. You get the same effect when “2CELLOS,” the pairing of two classically trained cellists Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser, step onto the stage in historical costume and begin to play for a Baroque audience. Very soon, however, the world of Baroque music is left far behind, and the audience starts to realize that the song is anything but classical. The song turns out to be “Thunderstruck,” the lead single from the 1990 album “The Razoers Edge” by Australian hard rock band AC/DC. The cellists explain, “We love AC/DC as much as Bach, as both are simple and very convincing in what they do.” 

We can’t present a blog of humor in and around music without referencing Victor Borge, one of the “funniest performers in classical music ever.” For many decades, Borge combined a blend of comedy and virtuosic pianism with musical satire and verbal spoofs. Born in Copenhagen, Borge arrived penniless in the United States and within a few short years, he became known as a comic actor, composer, pianist, writer, and a director of movies, stage shows, and radio programs. Unbelievably, he appeared in 848 consecutive performances at the Golden Theatre on New York’s Broadway. Humor aside, Borge was a formidable pianist, and his playing was described as “warm, rich, and highly nuanced, achieve through pedal mixtures and the formation of his large, spatula hands with cushions on each fingertip.” His collaboration with Marilyn Mulvey is pure magic, as it takes a humorous look at many operatic and musical stereotypes. 

Brett Yang and Eddy Chen are better known collectively as the duo “TwoSet Violin.” They met each other as young teens in a math group, then as the youngest members of a youth orchestra, and later as students at the Queensland Conservatorium Griffith University in Brisbane. Initially, both followed conventional paths and played in the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra respectively. In 2016, they resigned from their orchestra jobs and began to host live classical comedy performances. Actually, it started when they posted clips of pop music played on the violin on a dedicated YouTube channel. By 2018, their channel had 100K subscribers, and by 2019 they surpassed 1 million. That number had grown to 3 million in 2021 and currently resides at over 7.5 million subscribers. It’s all about humor and relatable imperfections, and they have even started a clothing line called “TwoSet Apparel.” 

Earlier in this blog, if you remember, I said that humor in music has to be funny for musical reasons. And I believe that’s the basic idea behind performances by British conductor, actor, writer, and comedian Rainer Hersch. With shows entitled “All the right notes, not necessarily in the right order,” he has featured in comedy clubs all across Europe and in TV shows around the world. One of his most exciting musical adventures features him as a conductor of his own nine-piece orchestra, and he “connects and corrupts some of the great works of classical music.” As a critic writes, “Whether you are a professor of piano or couldn’t tell a string quartet from a string vest, this is the funniest concert you will ever see.” Hersch also likes to corrupt some of the premier orchestras in the world with his arrangements, as he readily demonstrates in the featured excerpts with the Philharmonia Orchestra. Plenty of humor and excitement on offer in the world of classical music, and I am sure we will see much more of this in the coming years.

   

The Year of the Water Rabbit

by Hermione Lai 

According to the Chinese zodiac, 2022 was “characterized by strength, vitality, and growth, underpinned by the dynamism of the tiger.” It was a year designated as yang, the active principle of the universe in ancient Chinese philosophy. As such, in 2022 we all, or at least some of us, felt enthusiasm, positivity, and productivity, but also restlessness and inflexibility.

Luckily, the upcoming Year of the Rabbit embodies yin, the passive principle of the universe, “manifesting itself in relaxation, fluidity, quietness, and contemplation.” However, the Year of the Rabbit will not simply be a period for putting your feet up and looking pretty. An astrologer writes, “The rabbit is gentle, quiet, tame, tender, and kind, yet it moves quickly and is very clever.” It’s hardly surprising that a famous Chinese idiom talks about “a crafty rabbit has three burrows.” This basically means that the rabbit has many ideas of adapting to the environment, “and it can move very quickly, allowing it to protect itself during times of danger or when the situation is not favorable.” 

The rabbit is the fourth animal sign in the Chinese zodiac cycle, and it falls between 22 January 2023 and 9 February 2024. If you happen to be a male rabbit, you will “always treat people politely, and with a gentle smile to make people feel that they are credible and sincere.”

When encountering difficulties, you are never discouraged but instead, remain persistent to find enviable solutions and success. The female rabbit is said, “to have a pretty and demure appearance and a pure heart.” As you know, each sign of the zodiac is associated with one of the five elements. In the 2022/23 Cycle, we celebrate the water rabbit, which comes around once every 60 years. The water rabbit has a set of particular characteristics, and is “gentle, amicable, able to adjust readily to different conditions, but with a weak mindset and principles.” And after endless years of Covid 19, you don’t need to look into a crystal bowl to know that “there could be more movement and traveling.” 

People born in the year of the rabbit should look out for lucky things, including the numbers 3, 4, and 6, or any numbers containing them. Lucky colors are pink, red, purple, and blue, while your lucky flowers are the plantain lily and jasmine. And if you are ready to travel, as we all are, your lucky directions are east, south, and northwest. Even more important, probably, are your unlucky charms in the year of the water rabbit. Unlucky numbers are 1, 7, 8, or any number containing them. Please avoid the unlucky colors of dark brown, dark yellow, and white, and never travel north, west, or southwest. But here is the biggest downer of the water rabbit year. According to astrologers, “it is better if you avoid big changes, like getting married or starting a new company.” Yet, it is said that 2023 will be a good year to give birth, and if you work hard you might just be able to receive a promotion. And here is the top tip from some eminent astrologers, “wear red underwear and socks to reduce your bad luck.” I’d be happy to go along with the red undies, but red socks would not be my first choice of clothing. 

Let’s talk about money. People born under the rabbit sign have a natural talent for managing their finances and may experience an increase in wealth and prosperity. It may also be easier “to earn a living without experiencing too much difficulty,” as the saying work smarter, not harder applies particularly to financial matters this year. According to people in the know, 2023 might be “the time to take risks and pursue your goals with determination.” If you are looking for love in the year of the rabbit, 2023 will provide you the opportunities “for finding and fostering new romantic relationships.” It is a good year for focusing on activities that bring you happiness and reflecting on your relationships. Given that the tumultuous Year of the Tiger has just ended, empathy and generosity towards others will also be necessary during this time. The most suitable zodiac signs for the rabbit are the Goat, the Dog, and the Pig, but please stay away from the Rat and the Rooster. Some of the most famous rabbits seem to be athletes and include Michael Jordan, David Beckham, and the incredible Lionel Messi. However, did you know that Albert Einstein was also a rabbit?

Kung Hei Fat Choi 2023!

Dancing the Classics: Bach, Schubert, Debussy and Mozart

by Hermione Lai 

Bodily movement is such a natural and emotional response to music. I think that dance has been a part of human culture since the very beginning. It is a way of communicating, celebrating, and expressing an infinite number of feelings, moods, and emotions. And you don’t need to be a professional, as anyone can dance. When people dance, they express feelings and emotions, and if that particular dancing is happening on a stage, they communicate that message to the audience. For some professionals, choreography “is an art form intimately connected to the human form, and it will tell a human story regardless of whether you intend to create a story or not.” Dancing, at least to me, seems a much more direct and natural way of communicating emotions than language or writing.

Some classical music has been specifically written to accompany dance, such as the Baroque dance suite, but I am more interested in dance interpretations of classical music that originally had little or no connection to bodily movement. 

The story goes that Johann Sebastian Bach composed his Goldberg Variations for the Russian ambassador to Saxony. Count Kyerslingk suffered from extended bouts of insomnia, and to ease his torment, he instructed his private harpsichordist Johann Gottlieb Goldberg to play for him. Goldberg was a former student of J.S. Bach, and he approached him to compose a piece “which should be of such smooth and somewhat lively character that he might be a little cheered up by them in his sleepless nights.” Bach went to work and composed a variations set that has been called “one of the most sophisticated works ever written for the keyboard.”

Tap dancing

The Goldberg Variations have been called “sublime and compassionate, graceful, warm and relentlessly intricate.” There is nothing sleepy whatsoever in the Goldberg Variations when the hands of composer Conrad Tao and the feet of tap dance Caleb Teicher get involved. The supposedly calming music becomes a celebration of being awake. There is nothing but pure happiness in the aria followed by an explosion of rhythmic vitality in the variations. There is no doubt in my mind that this particular version would have greatly cheered up Count Kyerslinn.

Franz Schubert based the concluding song of Winterreise on one of the most powerful poems by Wilhelm Müller. The “Hurdy-Gurdy player” presents a very disturbing picture of the alienation of humanity. As a barefoot man is standing on the ice, even music, “often considered a link with the divine, has become monotonous, automated and indifferent.” A contemporary critic wrote, “Schubert’s music is as naive as the poet’s expressions; the emotions contained in the poems are as deeply reflected in his own feelings, and these are so brought out in sound that no one can sing or hear them without being touched to the heart.”

To me, Schubert’s music presents a melancholic aura that creates a sense of ultimate desolation. This overbearing sense of anguish and despair becomes visible in the movements created by the featured Saarländisches Staatstheater Ballet production. There is a lot of focus on bare feet, and what a powerful and highly emotional way of expressing that the plate of the hurdy-gurdy player will remain empty forever. 

The French poet Paul Verlaine wrote his poem “Clair de lune” (Moonlight) in 1869. It is an ambiguous description of a moonlit masquerade ball, alternating moments of joy and sadness. The poet takes us on a journey of self-discovery as he gets in touch with his soul in hopes of finding himself. He is looking for all kinds of distractions to feed to his soul in the form of masks, singing, and dancing. The second stanza is devoted to ease his soul with the sound of melody, and in the concluding stanza the poet acknowledges the picturesque beauty of the moonlight. Claude Debussy composed two settings of “Clair de lune,” plus an instrumental version for his Suite bergamasque. Without doubt, it is the composer’s most famous piece for piano, and it further inspired the French dancer, choreographer, and artist Yoann Bourgeois. He has been called a “dramatist of physics,” and his gravity-defying performance transports us to a place and time “where time has no meaning.” Will he find what he is looking for? 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart composed his cantata Davide penitente on commission from the benevolent society for musicians. The text expresses repentance during Lenten season, and it supposedly helps to recognize our sinfulness, express our sorrow and ask for God’s forgiveness. In the mind of the French horse trainer and film producer Bartabas, born Clément Marty, Mozart’s cantata was the perfect match for an equine ballet; that’s right, a ballet performed by the horses and riders of the National Equestrian Academy of Versailles.

Equestrian Ballet © Bruce Adams

He placed the performance into the “Felsenreitschule,” a 300- year old Salzburg venue that was originally built for equestrian performances. Once you place a period instrument ensemble and vocalists in the former audience arcade, you experience a “performance submerged in an atmospheric darkness, lending it something of the sacred.” It certainly is a fascinating interplay between horse and human, music and movement, and light and costumes. Personally, I love it!