(program)
Funk and Wagnalls Recording // Antonin Dvorak // Symphony No.9 “The New World”
Hamburg Pro Musica Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Hans Jurgen Walther.
Symphony No.6
1) Adagio — Allegro Molto
2) Largo
3) Scherzo: Molto Vivace — Poco Sostenuto
4) Allegro con fuoco
You can gaze out the window
get mad and get madder,
Throw your hands in the air,
say "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me I know
Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow) — John Prine
Dvorák by Jeremy Lewis, www.jeremylewis.com
at about 1am on first of april, i was listening to marilyn lightstone’s Nocturne on Classical FM when a piece came on that i immediately but vaguely recognized; as if walking blindfolded through a familiar terrain, the same terrain as beethoven’s Pastoral from last week. that piece was the Largo of dvorák’s New World Symphony, unmistakable in its vernal tranquility of the main theme sung on english horn.
an approximation of normal: that’s the new meaning that some of my favourite pieces of music, this symphony included, has taken as of late. i’ve somehow—through habits learned over the last five or so years—come to weave beethoven’s Pastoral and this symphony as part of the fabric of each new spring. under the auspices of the incoming music director, the TSO will be performing this symphony come november (god willing and if the curve don’t rise). in the meantime these recordings, on vinyl and on video, are approximations of real performances; something to tide us over this pandemic.
the symphony was composed during dvorák’s three-year stint as director of the National Conservatory of Music of America (1892-1895), and in conjunction with the conviction that ‘negro music should be the basis for a new school of American music,’ resulting in the intimations of negro spirituals that engender the magic of this symphony’s third and fourth movements, as well as the Op.96 String Quartet (American)—the opening notes on the first violin in the fourth movement in particular.
the third movement has to be my favourite Scherzo in this catalogue, launched by an irresistibly whistleable ten-note theme, broken into two equal parts. it is introduced on english horn and bolstered by a pair of clarinets in the first instance (and french horns later on), then punctuated by the timpani’s cantankerous temper in the movement’s breathless and darting sentences of tightly woven renditions of that opening theme.
the latticework of contrasting thematic materials in the first three movement—between the Largo and Scherzo especially—congeals under the furor of the brass section in the fourth movement (with a pair of trumpets and trombones leading the way). thematic elements from the three preceding movements make an appearance in the fourth, and are hammered down by the fourth’s triumphant declaration that wherever and whenever you’re listening from—under ideal or less than bearable conditions—it is, more or less, spring…
(song of the week: ‘Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)’ — John Prine (Justin Vernon cover))
so it goes. another legend gone, 2020 is piling them up.
where were you went you heard ‘Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone’ for the first time? where do you see yourself in prine’s version of blaze foley’s ‘Clay Pigeons’?
my favourite prine song has to be ‘Bruised Orange’. i found it at a time when i was feeling particularly clenched, and the world around me was starting to feel small. i think one of the features of a great library of music, be it digital or otherwise, is to remind you of how big the world can be, if you let it. some times one song can do the work of a whole library, and this song—covered here by justin vernon, a beautiful hymnostic—did that for me, and still does.
My heart's in the ice house come hill or come valley
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
just to shovel some snow.
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
just from walking with his back turned
to the train that was coming so slow.
You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
but it don't do no good to get angry,
so help me I know.
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
wrapped up in a trap of your very own
chain of sorrow.
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
and my head shouted down to my heart
"You better look out below!”
Hey, it ain't such a long drop don't stammer don't stutter
from the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter
and you carry those bruises
to remind you wherever you go.
r.i.p. john prine (1946-2020).
Throwback to: Year 2, Week36
Click here for the full 2019/2020 roster