Stuff I'm Listening To - The Christmas Advent Edition - December 16th

Artist: Nigel Kennedy

Composer: Antonio Vivaldi

Title: Concerto No. 4 in F minor, Op. 8, RV 297, "Winter" (L'inverno)

Why?: 
I remember when Nigel Kennedy started to become 'famous'. Suddenly, there were people who never had any interest in classical music watching him perform. He dressed like a rock star, acted like a rock star, had stage presence like a rock star and made his violin do things that left your mouth open in a wordless 'o'. 

I also recall reading the story of how Talk Talk made him tape his fingers together when he guested on their album Sprit of Eden because he played too many notes. When you watch him play this statement makes complete sense. 

While this isn't specifically a "Christmas" song, it's certainly a seasonal one. If Winter needed theme music, this is it. The whole concerto is worth a listen. It's something to hear live, so I highly recommend if your local city's symphony orchestra is set to perform it, go. It's always a delight to hear. I'm sure it was amazing if you got to see Nigel live. I have not, but will certainly try one day. 

I love winter and it's pretty clear to me that Vivaldi did too. 

Stuff I'm Listening To #63 - Beethoven's 9th Symphony

Composer: Beethoven
 
Title: 9th Symphony
 
Favourite Lyrics:
O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!
Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen, und freudenvollere. 
Freude!
Freude! 
Translation: 
O friends, no more of these sounds!
Let us sing more cheerful songs,
More songs full of joy!
Joy!
Joy! 
Why?: I started collecting records again.

I blame Talk Talk and Rustin Man... in March there were three brand spanking new Talk Talk records at the record store my husband accidentally took me to (it happened to be beside the restaurant he took me to) in March. But no record player.

Then the appeal of having a signed print from Paul Webb was too much for me to resist. My husband listened to me whine about how nice it would be to have it and how I didn't want to spend any money because it cuts into my ice cream budget and he succumbed and paid for my Drift Code album. But I still didn't have a record player.
 
Finally, Spirit of Eden got delivered, unexpectedly, at my work on my weekend shift (I've taken on a few extra hours lately). I posted excitedly about it yesterday. Still... no record player....

When I got home last night and my husband dragged me out to purchase a kettle (ours broke) and in the department store he declared he was purchasing me a record player because he wanted to.

I almost cried. 

Yesterday happened to be five years since the first time I'd taken my husband to Roy Thompson Hall to hear Daniil Trifonov play Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini by Rachmaninoff and then the Toronto Symphony after intermission played Beethoven's 9th Symphony. I remember him being utterly amazed at the performance. He'd never been to such a concert before. And then he had to deal with emotional me after. Why emotional me? Well...

 

There are so many feels here. Three of the most important men in my life have something to do with this photo.

First. Beethoven was my dad’s favourite composer and piece. 

Second. The Beethoven record pictured here had been purchased by my brother (mom asked him to go out and buy this record) for me when I was younger and just learning how to play the piano so I could hear it in all it's majesty. 

Third. The player, just purchased yesterday by my husband on impulse just to make me happy so I could finally listen to all my records, after he saw the post of my Spirit of Eden purchase yesterday, and the Rustin Man and Talk Talk Records which husband helped purchase these last few months.

I usually cry during Ode to Joy because of my dad. I’m crying now writing this because it reminds me of my dad. Pity my husband who at Roy Thomson Hall five years ago had to deal with me ugly crying during the Ode to Joy part. I was laughing at my own ugly crying too, because it was so ridiculously out of character for me. 

So aside from the test run last night to make sure the player was working, it was befitting it would be this piece which means so much to me and relates to three of the most important men in my life, that would break in my brand new record player.

July 20, 1969

“We are not figuratively, but literally stardust.”-Neal Degrasse Tyson

On this 50th anniversary of the moon landing I wanted to share a couple of stories of how important the moon and stars are to me.
 
The first story is of my dad’s scrap book and Apollo 11. I assume it was a scrap book of interesting things, newspaper and magazine clippings. It was his attempt to learn how to read English having newly arrived from West Germany in 1968. In July of 1969 he and my mother were half a year away from having their first child, my older brother. In this scrap book, he carefully placed articles and stories and pictures of Apollo 11. I used to look through this scrap book and be amused at the old paper, bits of coloured and aged tape holding everything together. The paper had already yellowed by the time I found it, when I was five or six. And I would often sneak down to his office, and haul out this scrap book. It was a favourite of mine. I’m not sure why I never questioned him about it. It was just something ever present and a piece of my dad that was there. I’ve been assured it’s still somewhere in the house, but I haven’t seen it in over a decade now.

The second story relates back to my grandmother and shooting stars. She told my mother when she was a little girl, that shooting stars were spirits of souls going to heaven. My mother told me this and us both being women of science giggled at my grandmother’s innocence. But it was a cute story and one my mother decided to share about her childhood and her mother.

The third story is of a kindly a kindly gentleman, Mr. Johnson, who was essentially my substitute grandfather. He would come by to buy his cigars and if it was dark enough, he’d bring me outside in front of the store and point out all the constellations you could see in the city. Orion, the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper. Casseiopia. Seeing how interested I was, my mother would cut out Terrence Dickenson’s astronomy article that ran in the Toronto Star back in the 80s, a little highlight of anything exciting to see for the week and give it to me. And there was Jack Horkheimer’s short ‘Star Hustler’ bit on PBS (which featured Isao Tomita’s version of Debussy’s Arabesque No. 1 which I will forever associate wth star gazing) just before the channel would sign off where he did the same, summarizing something interesting to see in the sky for the upcoming week. It was a great excuse to be up way past my bedtime and my dad would humour me to let me watch it. It was educational after all. 

So naturally, through all these influences, my love of astronomy was instilled in me a young age and with much love. When I look up at the sky, at first, I’m looking for constellations, satellites, shooting stars. But then I’m looking and take time to look at the sky in a meditative way and to think and to dream. After a while I’m contemplating the meaning of life and what happens to the conscious mind after all is said and done.

Eventually I have my flights of fancy. How wonderful would it be to have a spaceship. To spacewalk. To see the planet from outer space. What dreams the sky inspires. It brought men to the moon 50 years ago today. May it bring men to the stars someday. I’m beginning to think grandmother’s theory wasn’t completely wrong. After all, when you look at the stars you’re looking into the past. The light left those stars when dinosaurs walked the earth, when the pyramids were built, when someone who is gone today was still alive. There are spirits, dreams and memories up there. Perhaps grandmother simply meant it was those intangible things that make us human was what those shooting stars were showing us.  

Stuff I'm Listening to #56 - The Four Seasons - Summer

Artist: Nigel Kennedy
Composer: Antonio Vivaldi
Title: Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 8, RV 315, "Summer" (L'estate)
Why?: Welcome to the heat! I think this piece isn't presented often enough. Everyone knows "Spring". I think if Vivaldi was a pop star, The Four Seasons would have been his top 40 album. "Spring" would have been his top 10 single from the album. (AND everyone knows "Winter" from those diamond commercials too).  

I recall Nigel Kennedy explaining how he was always able to relate to this part. Unlike the sparkly sound Spring and Fall, this concerto is slow, a little sad, a little oppressive until the climatic release in the third part. If a thunderstorm had a soundtrack, this is it. He (Nigel) said that he suffered from asthma(?) (and apparently so did Vivaldi) and in those especially humid and uncomfortable days, he suffers. I am no fan of humidity so this piece fits for today and the rest of any long uncomfortable days of summer. 

Below are the other two parts of the "Summer" concerto. I've also included Vanessa Mae's take on the third "Storm" part of the piece, which I absolutely enjoy rocking out to. 

Stuff I'm Listening To - Special Edition - Happy Birthday Pyotr Iiyich Tchaikovsky

Artist/Composer: Pyotr Iiyich Tchaikovsky

Title: The Nutcracker Suite

Why: Some of my earliest memories of music are the things my mother used to listen to. So it was all classical music (or traditional Korean music). I have a lot to thank my mother for. She provided the basis of my love of good music, and in this case, dance. I love to dance, but my dancing is probably best described as drunk flailing. I have great respect for anyone who studied dance. Again, some of my earliest memories include me plunked in front of the TV and being absolutely mesmerized by this piece and performance (not THIS particular performance and I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find the one performance that caught my attention the first time). And while it’s not Christmas, it’s his birthday. Enjoy. 

On Spotify for those who are interested: https://open.spotify.com/album/0jrTpQOfY1hWTGBZponRB9