Classical Thursdays: Schubert and the Smurfs

No, I haven't given up on my dream of bringing classical music to the several with my Classical Thursdays feature. In fact, today I'm going to present you with a piece that's already received considerable modern play due to its being used in that beloved (or, if you were me, filler) cartoon of the 80s, The Smurfs.

Did you know that The Smurfs was noted for its frequent use of classical music as background or theme music? (See Wikipedia confirmation of this fact here.) Little nine-year-old Rachel never realized this when she was watching the show, but fast-forward ten years later when I was an exchange student in Bielefeld, Germany, and my host mother took me to a Sunday morning symphony. As the orchestra played Schubert's Unfinished symphony, it struck me that I had heard this piece before. I'm not sure how long it took me to figure out where: the first movement is better known to us children of the 80s as Gargamel's theme song.

What do you want to bet they didn't use this piece as his theme song in the creepy-looking 2011 Smurfs movie? Aannnnnnd sigh. Do you recognize this piece?

Classical Thursdays: Chopin's Tristesse

I was intending for my Classical Thursdays to be a weekly thing. Goodness knows there's enough great music for that. But somehow last Thursday slipped past me, so I guess it will be a catch-as-catch-can arrangement.

Today I want to highlight a piano piece by Frédéric Chopin, who I would say is in my top three favorite composers. His Étude Op. 10 No. 3, in E major, nicknamed Tristesse (sadness), is slow and lovely, and the asymmetrical structure of the melody was pretty advanced for its time. Chopin is said to have thought this was his most beautiful composition. When I listen to it, I think it sounds like regret.

Here's a great quote about Chopin's creative process, written by his companion of ten years, George Sand:

Chopin is at the piano, quite oblivious of the fact that anyone is listening. He embarks on a sort of casual improvisation, then stops. 'Go on, go on,' exclaims Delacroix, 'That's not the end!' 'It's not even a beginning. Nothing will come ... nothing but reflections, shadows, shapes that won't stay fixed. I'm trying to find the right colour, but I can't even get the form ...' 'You won't find the one without the other,' says Delacroix, 'and both will come together.' 'What if I find nothing but moonlight?' 'Then you will have found the reflection of a reflection.' source

I feel like that sometimes when I'm writing--I'm trying to find the right color, but I can't even get the form. I think what the artist Eugène Delacroix meant is that you've got to start somewhere, and eventually it will start to resemble what you see in your head. Art doesn't just happen--it's hard work.



In other news, I am a complete ninny and forgot to point out that last week, my CP Liz Briggs interviewed me on her blog! To read my embarrassing answers to her questions and see a mortifying high school photo of me, go here.

I was also interviewed a little while back by Deborah Blum, who I was in a critique group with the past couple of years. Check it out here!

Classical Thursdays: Dvořák

So I've noticed from your music-related posts and tweets that in general, popular tastes in these circles run to indie and classic 90s. I guess people don't listen to classical music much, unless you're a music major or one of your parents was, and I understand that. The pieces are loooong, and there are no lyrics to enjoy, and frankly it can be as boring as a 14-hour plane flight. But there's some good classical out there, stuff that will make you fist-pump or weep or dance around like a hyper idiot, and I think it's a shame that it's only heard in movie scores and commercials.

In the spirit of my Blog Me MAYbe Thursday assignment of telling you about someone else, I'm going to try something new here. Every Thursday, I'm going to post a piece from my morning playlist of favorite classical music, along with some interesting details about the piece or composer. A lot of them you'll probably recognize from movies or Saturday morning cartoons. One of them makes me cry every single time I listen to it, but I'll save that one for another day.

Today I'm going to start with the 4th movement from Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 in E Minor "From the New World." Antonín Dvořák was a Bohemian native, born near Prague in 1841. His father, an innkeeper, butcher, and professional zither player, wanted him to be a butcher as well, but he chose to pursue music instead. He wrote this symphony in 1893 during a visit to the "New World," aka the USA. He was especially interested in Native American music and African-American spirituals, which he considered musically very similar, and used these influences when composing his symphony.

The 4th movement is called "Allegro con fuoco," or fast and fiery, which is exactly how it sounds. Clearly John Williams loves this piece, because you will hear first Jaws, and then Star Wars when you listen to it. Also this video is awesome because the conductor, Gustavo Dudamel, currently the music director here at the LA Philharmonic, is a riot to watch. It's pretty long, but I encourage you to at least listen to the first couple of minutes.