Day 21: a.k.a. Three Weeks

HaydnCD21You know the old saying that times flies when you’re having fun?

Well, it’s not true.

Time flies whether you’re having fun or not, usually when you’re busy as hell and it becomes, as the late MacDonald Carey used to say at the start of each Days of Our Lives episode, “like sands through the hourglass.”

The older we get, the more those sands fall to the bottom of said hourglass.

I type that because three weeks have already passed since I started this three-year project. I have no idea where those 21 days went. Tell you what, though, if I could stick my finger in that little narrow tube between the top of the hourglass and its bottom I most definitely would. (Hmm, the words “stick my finger in” and “its bottom” in the same sentence don’t necessarily enhance the appeal of this morning’s Asiago bagel. But you know what I mean. )

Symphony No. 70 in D is another delightful composition, one that grabbed me from Continue reading

Day 20: Eavesdropping

HaydnCD20Sometimes, being at Panera in the morning is a lesson in trying – hard! – to mind ones own business.

Like this morning for example. There’s a man and a younger woman (a dad and his daughter, I quickly discovered) sitting in the booth behind me who are deep in conversation of a serious nature. “The irony is,” the man just said, “that’s not who I am…wearing the right suit, saying the right thing at the board meeting…”

I don’t know who he tried to be, or what he wants to be. But it’s clear he’s not being what he thinks he is.

I’ve found that to be true with most people these days.

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation,” Thoreau wrote in Walden (1854). (Note that he did not write: “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation…” That’s a misquote, according to the Thoreau web site. Plus, the quote did not come from Civil Disobedience and Other Essays. That is another mis-attribution. Oh, the things I learn…)

Whatever the exact quote, or its precise source, I think not being what one is is one of the great tragedies of human existence. I wonder if Haydn ever thought to himself, Continue reading

Day 18: Bam!

HaydnCD18I was enthralled by Symphony No. 61 in D within its first 20 seconds.

The symphony opens with a burst of instruments — bam! — and then there’s a stuttering, a chattering, a dancing of strings building up to another full-instrument burst — bam! Then, oboe and bassoon enter the dance. Things really get rocking at the :30 mark when it sounds like bursts of fireworks. It’s bam! bam! bam! bam! syncopated around the dancing strings and the serenading, oboe, bassoon, and flute. These are some of the most stirring seconds I’ve yet heard from Haydn. This is hair-raising, truly invigorating craftsmanship.

Well, here it is. Listen for yourself. This is exactly the same performance to which I’m listening this morning:

Same conductor  (Adam Fischer), same orchestra (Austro-Hungarian Orchestra).

Antony Hodgson, author of The Music of Joseph Haydn: The Symphonies, describes it this way in Continue reading

Day 17: Haydn Seek

HaydnCD17jpgWhat a long, strange day this has been.

I arose late this morning because I was up again during the night. (Acid reflux is not my friend, although it is an occasional acquaintance.)

Therefore, I didn’t get to Panera at my usual time, and so didn’t get my usual table. The place was packed.

My butt could find no purchase.

So I drove around wondering where to go, visions of Light Roast coffee dancing in my head. Finally, around 8:30am, I decided to return to Panera and hope for the best.

I was in luck — or, so I thought. There were booths open, and Light Roast coffee aplenty, but when I opened up my laptop and sought Haydn CD 17 in iTunes, I couldn’t find it.

Son of a gun, I thought (only with less finesse). Continue reading

Day 16: Ascot Gavotte?

HaydnCD16Today’s Haydn CD seems brighter, livelier, more fun.

Or, maybe, it’s my change of venue. I decided to listen and post in Barnes & Noble on this cloudy-and-chilly October morning.

Whatever it is, Symphony No. 55 in E Flat “Der Schulmeister” sounds rather Mozart like.

Not to belittle Haydn’s talents. But this particular symphony has a bouncier, more playful feel to it, more like something Mozart might have written. (By the way, in 1774 Mozart was 18. By that point in his life, Amadeus had probably written a gazillion symphonies. So, my guess is Haydn and Mozart — who knew each other — might have been playing a bit of friendly competition, much like Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson did in the mid 1960s.)

BNViewComposed in 1774 (Haydn was 42), Symphony No. 55 is another of Haydn’s symphonies with a nickname, this time “The Schoolmaster.” Again, the origin of that nickname appears unknown. According to its entry on Wiki:

H. C. Robbins Landon notes that while Haydn’s autograph manuscript of the symphony contains no reference to this title, the work has been known by this name since the early nineteenth century. Landon suggests that the dotted rhythm of the second movement calls to mind the wagging finger of a schoolmaster, and points out that in the catalog of his works that Haydn helped prepare in the final years of his life, there is a fragment of a lost Divertimento in D containing a similar dotted rhythm entitled “Der verliebte Schulmeister” (the schoolmaster in love). Landon goes on to propose a program for the symphony’s second movement in which the sections marked semplice represent the “strict, pedantic” teacher and the dolce sections depict the same teacher overwhelmed by love.

I thought the “dotted rhythm” of Movement II (“Adagio, ma semplicemente”) sounded like the rhythm of the lyrics in the Lerner and Loewe song Continue reading

Day 15: Rocky Start

HaydnCD15I was all settled into my usual table at Panera, ready to watch the sun rise, when I discovered I couldn’t play anything. iTunes wouldn’t play. I couldn’t stream from the ‘Net. Hmm.

I pushed (and re-pushed) buttons. I Googled “Why won’t my MacBook Pro play music or stream audio files?”

Alas. To no avail.

So I shut everything down and restarted my computer.

It worked. Whew.

I am now being serenaded by the dulcet sounds of a Franz Joseph Haydn composition. Symphony No. 52 in C Minor, one of the last of Haydn’s Sturm und Drang-era symphonies. This one was Continue reading

Day 13: Changes

HaydnCD13I decided to shake things up this morning.

Instead of dining at the Panera farther away from where I live, I chose the Panera closer to me.

And instead of a booth, today I occupy that same square table I used to race to possess every day at 6:00am when I listened to the complete works of Mozart a couple of years ago.

Ooh. Big changes afoot.

Panera3I dunno. May not seem like much to you. But if I was a cat I’d freak out at such major alterations to my schedule.

I listened to the following three symphonies (twice!) on CD 13 this morning:

Symphony No. 46 in B, which Haydn composed in 1772 during his Sturm und Drang period. He was 40 years old.

This symphony was gripping from the start. I Continue reading

Day 12: Living In the Moment

Haydn012When I walked into the dimly lit Panera Bread restaurant this morning at 6:30, I cringed when I heard their choice of Muzak. It was a selection of that emo stuff, with guys sounding like someone’s squeezing their nuts…and girls singing with flat intonations, all mush-mouthed and sleepy like they just rolled out of bed.

I wonder if contemporaries of Franz Joseph Haydn, upon hearing his latest symphony — say, Symphony No. 43 in E Flat — thought the same way, like: “I say, Franz. This is frightfully trite. Do you honestly think anyone will want to hear this in a hundred years?”

If they did, they were wrong. Over two hundred and forty years later, here I am listening to that same symphony, nicknamed “Merkur” (Mercury).

By way of contrast, as much as I like Jason Mraz‘s “Living in the Present Moment,” I seriously doubt anyone will be listening to it in several hundred years.

Today’s Haydn symphony (another from the Sturm und Drang years of 1770-1774) grabbed me from the opening notes. I’m not sure why, or what it is about certain passages of music that earn my immediate respect. But this is one of them.

Here, maybe you can figure it out. This is exactly what I’m listening to this morning:

Someone uploaded to YouTube Symphony No. 43 in E Flat performed by the Austro-Hungarian Haydn Orchestra, Adam Fischer conductor. So (at least for as long as it remains on YouTube) you can hear for yourself what I’m hearing. Maybe you can figure out Continue reading

Day 11: More Competence

Haydn011Stately. Well ordered. Mature. Competent.

I wish I could muster more enthusiasm for Haydn’s Symphony No. 40 in F.

Alas, I am unable.

This is a very fine symphony. But it’s like a lullaby to me. In fact, if not for the Light Roast I’m chugging I’d have nodded off listening to it this morning.

According to its entry on Wiki, Symphony No. 40 was written before 1763, but its exact date is unknown, which means Haydn could have been about 31, or younger.

By the way, why do I note Haydn’s age at the time of composition?

Haydn2aBecause that’s one way I make concrete something that heretofore (heretofore?) was unknown at worst and nebulous at best. I want to know who Haydn was when he composed these masterpieces (yes, even “competent” symphonies from Haydn are masterpieces in my book). So I place him in historical perspective. Part of that includes giving him an age.

Another part is to note what was going on in America (and the world) at the time this symphony was composed.

In 1763, America had just fought the French and Indian War. Britain issued the Proclamation of 1763, which begins with this: Continue reading

Day 10: People Watching at Panera, In B Flat

Haydn010Because I arose later than usual today, I couldn’t get my usual table (which, actually, is a booth) at my usual morning hangout, Panera Bread.

The table at which I sit this morning, munching on an Asiago bagel (toasted with light cream cheese) and sipping a Light Roast coffee (colored with Half & Half to a just-so golden-brown color) is a round table that faces into the restaurant in such a way that allows me to watch people talking to one another. I can’t hear them (Duh! I’m listening to Haydn). But I can see them. (Admittedly, I am in control of which way the table faces. The photo below indicates I could just as easily have sat in the other chair, facing the window. But I chose to sit with my back to the window so that I cPaneraOct10ould see into the restaurant.)

I’ve forgotten how much fun that is – watching people while listening to music, so that it’s like I’m scoring a private movie in my head. Their actions take on more dramatic, or even comedic, meaning when I replace the “score” of ambient sounds one typically finds in a restaurant in the morning with music of my own choosing.

I feel like I should join ASCAP or something.

In this particular Panera, the talk is often about the Bible. Before I stuck earbuds in my, well, ears and replaced people’s voices with Haydn’s, I heard “…we’ll have to read the scriptures for references to leadership” and “let’s pray about that.” Also, I see Bibles on table tops, as well as books by Christian authors.

I also, pre buds in ears, heard job interviews being conducted here and there.

Welcome to West Michigan, where jobs and Bibles often go hand in hand.

Another thing I noticed: Continue reading