I love music... It moves me to new heights, always
I don't listen to music as much as I should (according to friends and family). Heck, I don't listen to music as much as I'd like, but partly that is due to the effect it has on me.
Music creates in me a sense of wonderment, a blissful haze at the immensely marvelous world I inhabit. This includes music from the anonymous composers pre-Palestrina, to the post-Modernist composers of today. Everything from Bach's beautiful lines to the angular atonality of Webern, I love it all.
The problem with loving it all is trying to decide what to listen to, what to embrace at any given moment. Because I also compose, this can be particularly problematic as anything I listen to can (and does) affect what I write. So, if I'm in the midst of a piece (or 4 as I am right now), listening to pieces in styles different from what I'm working on can reek havoc on my own composition.
Yet, there are moments like tonight, when I had a particularly trying day --not a bad one, just exhausting (mostly physical, although there was a fair amount of crunching numbers too). What I wanted this evening was to relax. I thought for a while about putting on some late romantic music, some Debussy or Chopin to soon the aching muscles. Then I thought, perhaps some Bach would do well to echo the numbers and yet put them into beautiful order.
As I scanned the internet, tweeted with friends, tried to catch up on my email (which is horribly out of control), I ended up listening to a broad spectrum of pieces. I don't think it ventured so far back as to the 14th century, but was a least one madrigal in the mix. There was also a 21st century piano concerto by a new composer (no, not mine). Ravel and Rachmaninoff made it into the mix, as did some John Adams. I almost played a Beethoven piece, and would have except I'd heard a couple of his recently, so I moved on to Mozart. Donizetti and Verdi added their voices to the play list, which moved to Britten and then to Ligeti.
In the end (although the music is still playing as I write), my mood was dramatically altered. The music wasn't all nice easy listening, but it was all great music. Somewhere, deep inside, I resonate with these amazing composers and their works.
I love music. Even better, I compose music; I get my hands dirty with it. Like a sculptor with clay, so in love with the human form, they not only get to look at it, they get to re-create it with their hands. I am so in love with music I can't help but dive in and become one with it.
No matter what you do for a job, take a moment and immerse yourself in music. Let it wash over you, through you. Then get your hands dirty and create music of your own!!!
Music creates in me a sense of wonderment, a blissful haze at the immensely marvelous world I inhabit. This includes music from the anonymous composers pre-Palestrina, to the post-Modernist composers of today. Everything from Bach's beautiful lines to the angular atonality of Webern, I love it all.
The problem with loving it all is trying to decide what to listen to, what to embrace at any given moment. Because I also compose, this can be particularly problematic as anything I listen to can (and does) affect what I write. So, if I'm in the midst of a piece (or 4 as I am right now), listening to pieces in styles different from what I'm working on can reek havoc on my own composition.
Yet, there are moments like tonight, when I had a particularly trying day --not a bad one, just exhausting (mostly physical, although there was a fair amount of crunching numbers too). What I wanted this evening was to relax. I thought for a while about putting on some late romantic music, some Debussy or Chopin to soon the aching muscles. Then I thought, perhaps some Bach would do well to echo the numbers and yet put them into beautiful order.
As I scanned the internet, tweeted with friends, tried to catch up on my email (which is horribly out of control), I ended up listening to a broad spectrum of pieces. I don't think it ventured so far back as to the 14th century, but was a least one madrigal in the mix. There was also a 21st century piano concerto by a new composer (no, not mine). Ravel and Rachmaninoff made it into the mix, as did some John Adams. I almost played a Beethoven piece, and would have except I'd heard a couple of his recently, so I moved on to Mozart. Donizetti and Verdi added their voices to the play list, which moved to Britten and then to Ligeti.
In the end (although the music is still playing as I write), my mood was dramatically altered. The music wasn't all nice easy listening, but it was all great music. Somewhere, deep inside, I resonate with these amazing composers and their works.
I love music. Even better, I compose music; I get my hands dirty with it. Like a sculptor with clay, so in love with the human form, they not only get to look at it, they get to re-create it with their hands. I am so in love with music I can't help but dive in and become one with it.
No matter what you do for a job, take a moment and immerse yourself in music. Let it wash over you, through you. Then get your hands dirty and create music of your own!!!
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