David J. Hahn » Classical

Invention #8 on piano

Dave — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:12:37 +0000

When I play Invention #8 on piano I like to play the long notes short and the short notes long. Maybe it’s a little adolescent of me, and Bach experts would probably roll their eyes, but I don’t care.

I also like to play it fast.

What would be comparable song from our time?

“Schooooool’s out for summer! Schooooool’s out for ever!!”

Invention #8 by Johann Sebastian Bach

Dave — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 20:25:38 +0000

Would you believe that Bach once blew it at an audition? He auditioned to be the organist at a church in Sangerhausen, Germany in the early 1700s and lost. 300 years later, do you know what scares people?

Playing Bach at auditions.

I wonder what he had to play?

Invention #14 by Johann Sebastian Bach

Dave — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 19:01:54 +0000

I’m subbing for a friend of mine at a Catholic church in the Bronx next month. I might play this as the prelude, it’s such a nice piece.

Did you know that Bach wasn’t much of a success in his lifetime? It was years later (about 200 years later) that other composers found his work and decided he was the bee’s knees. During his own lifetime he was an amateur musician working at churches in Germany. That’s what they say in the history books, an amateur musician.

Bach probably played this invention at a church in Germany in the 1700s, and I’m going to play it at a church in the Bronx in the 2000s. How about that?

Traumerei by Robert Schumann

Dave — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 01:57:03 +0000

When I play this song I try to think about a big field of grass in the late summer. But nobody’s there. No, not even you, so don’t picture it. We don’t even know where it is. It’s far away.

Are you still peeking? Me too. There’s an oak tree. There’s a breeze on the long, tall, dry grass, and in the leaves of the tree. The breeze starts and stops. The notes play when the breeze comes and blows around the grass.

It makes it a little easier to play this song. Schumann himself said that nobody but his wife, Clara, could play his songs right. He’d probably tell me the same thing. He was crazy, you know. They locked him up and threw away the key.

Whoosh. Summer breeze.

Italian Song by Peter Tchaikovsky

Dave — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 15:34:06 +0000

Tchaikovsky was a married man, but gay, and threw himself in the Moscow River when life had become too unbearable. But he didn’t die, it just made the next few decades a little more uncomfortable. Complicated man.

But look! He wrote a little polka-waltz. La da dee da da dee da dum da.

Elegie Melodie Op. 10 by Jules Massenet

Dave — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 19:44:21 +0000

This song makes me think of this, even if it’s not in D minor:

“It’s part of a trilogy, a musical trilogy I’m working on in D minor which is the saddest of all keys, I find. People weep instantly when they hear it, and I don’t know why.”

- Nigel Tufnel, This Is Spinal Tap

Bagatelle Op. 126, No. 5 by Luddy van Beet-man

Dave — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 18:35:00 +0000

Sometimes Beethoven would write these pretty, sweet little songs and throw in a few, choice, unexpected notes. That’s the thing about Beethoven, he makes you feel like you’re in this comfortable, safe musical place, and then he jabs at you with what you think MUST be a wrong note. It’s back and forth, back and forth. You never know what to expect. He hurts you. And you’re so grateful for it!

I like to lay on the out-notes when they come along. I linger for a moment. It’s cathartic. Does it make you cringe? Beethoven!

To a Wild Rose by Edward MacDowell

Dave — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 16:50:39 +0000

There’s a bit in the middle of this one that reminds me of Harold Arlen’s underscoring from Wizard of Oz. Do you hear that? It’s that B section – it triggers some memory of poppies and flying monkeys. I don’t know.

This is another beautiful song. I’ve always been interested in simple, lullaby-like songs. How many notes does it take to move a listener? Sometimes a lot, sometimes not.

Poem by Zdenko Fibich

Dave — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 16:30:40 +0000

What if it was the 19th century, and there were no radios or muzak or recordings of any kind. So music wasn’t a constant presence in your life, and you weren’t used to being manipulated by sounds for marketing or ratings or whatever. And then a pianist comes to your town and sits down and plays this song. Can you imagine what that’d be like? Grown men would start crying. It’s moving.

Six Variations from the opera La Molinara by Beethoven

Dave — Sat, 04 Aug 2007 05:03:00 +0000

I’ve been taking lessons this summer from classical pianist Anthony Molinaro, which has been great. Did you know he’s also a very devoted cyclist? You should see how fancy his bike is.