April 16, 2011

A Narrow Repertoire

Does anyone else feel like Pachelbel’s Canon in D is the only classical piece anyone knows anymore?  Sheesh.  I heard it at a wedding.  I heard it at a movie about a wedding.  I heard it at work emanating from a colleagues' cubicle played through cheap tinny speakers.

Look.  If it’s time for classical music, go out and get a copy of Brahms’ 2nd piano Concierto and learn to live again.  Remember why you are human.  Be sure and get the right one, that’s all I can say.

Listen to the Eroica of Beethoven, or the Pastoral.  Listen to the Requiem Mass of Mozart and weep like Mary Magdalene at Jesus’ tomb.  Tchaikovsky, Handel, and so many others.  Shoot, just get the Amadeus soundtrack and that enough will migrate your soul to the next level.  Please, just get it.  I know it was my passport to a new humanity.  I still have it on my ‘current listening’ shelf.  My prayers of gratitude for Neville Mariner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields.

But I will go on record here, out on a limb I’m sure.  I’ll offend my sparse readership now.  I am sick of Canon in D.  I suspected it was pabulum from the first time I heard it, and every repetition convinces me further.

If you think the Canon is the cat’s meow, the bee’s knees, and you are an adult, then I humbly submit that you may have a shriveled and enfeebled soul.  That came out wrong.  I'm sorry.  If you like Pachelbel’s famous piece, then please, please enter further.  Move on to more, to greater, to higher.  You made a nice start.  You picked the low-hanging fruit.  But be patient as you listen to Mozart.  Listen slowly.  Wait.  Easy.  Stop.  Get it.  Feel your conscience wash away in the mystery.  You will never be the same again.

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