‘Little-known’ is pretty obvious, but what do I mean by ‘Oddball’? I don’t really know, but there are a few pieces of music that are interesting from the point of view of the circumstances under which they were written, or for some such extra-musical aspect of its existence, at least as much as for its interest simply as a piece of music.
People who are trying to “get into” classical music are usually —and quite understandably— interested in trivia about a piece of music (or at least, a piece of music which is associated with some accessible piece of trivia), just so that they have something to hang their thoughts on!
The music of Haydn is famous for little eccentric things that he put into his pieces. One little-know instance, I believe, is the opening movement of Creation, or Die Schopfung. It is intended to represent chaos, and as you can appreciate, music is almost the very antithesis of chaos.
(The clip is conveniently titled, in German: "Introduction: Chaos"), and you can almost guess the meaning of the word Einleitung: Lead-in, or introduction).
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| Bach is holding one of his crab canons! |
Bach also wrote an aria in one of his church cantatas, which was taken from an aria from a "secular" cantata --pieces written for public celebrations, such as the installation of a new City Council, etc; even civic events had religious observations. (This particular one was written for someone's birthday.) Anyway, at the end of the aria (vocal solo) in the church cantata, Bach adds a closing section that is a trio, which goes on for almost a minute and a half! That is certainly unusual.
Canons are certainly interesting: it is a piece in which a second voice enters with the tune after a delay. It is the same principle as a round, but the tunes are longer, and typically there are just two voices, each following the other. Pachelbel's Kanon is an exception: it has three voices: the three violins, and as you know well (especially at Christmastime), the tune is far longer than a typical round.
[Added Later]
Well, I guess I just couldn't resist. I hunted down the music for Pachelbel’s famous Kanon (a movement from a sonata), and scored it for as wildly different-sounding instruments as I could think of. The original, scored for three violins and bass is just too homogeneous-sounding for the canon to emerge; it just sounds like a dance with three masked, identical dancers looks : the dancers are indistinguishable, and you have to take the thing as simply abstract moving patterns. But I gave the top voice (or at least Voice Number 1) to the violin, the next to the flute, and the third to a bassoon. That move completely destroys the homogeneity, but guess what: you can actually hear the canon beautifully. So the delicacy and restfulness of the Canon we hear (usually at Christmas, as I remarked) is gone; this version does sound a little rowdy:
Another unusual use of canon is the last movement of Cesar Franck's famous Sonata in A for violin and piano. This is beautiful, and the canon is only incidental to the beauty of the piece.
Hmm. Let's see now. (I'm running out of things that I can remember.) Ah, Dvorak's Harmonium Quartets.
Dvorak wrote some lovely chamber music featuring a harmonium: they were called Bagatelles. The humble harmonium, of course, is never even heard today as a serious musical instrument. They're used as accompaniments in poor parish churches that can't afford either a pipe organ, or a Casio keyboard, and heaven knows those cost only about $150. But a harmonium is a simple thing: it is essentially an enormous harmonica (no, they don't look like harmonicas; they look like tiny organs. The organ in the Pachelbel's Canon clip is actually a tiny chamber pipe organ. The pipes are just about 4' long, at the longest) connected to a keyboard, and a foot-operated bellows. (In the clip, the bellows are operated by hand, which means you can't play with both hands. This type is not intended for classical music, but for folk music, especially Eastern European and Indian.) Anyone older than, say, 65 years, is likely to have seen one. Here is a movement from one of the Bagatelles. Here is a clip of a rehearsal, showing a harmonium actually being played!
I have to take time out for a brief rant here. The world is full of countless old things that are extra, we don't need them; they're old, they're marginal, they're on the fringes of modern life. Should we preserve them? Will we miss them if they're gone? If they belong to the distant cultural history of a people with whom I have no direct connection, need I be aware of them, and maintain an interest? The pieces of paper on which Bob Dylan scribbled the words of his song: Like a Rolling Stone, are being auctioned off at Sotheby's. They will probably bring millions of dollars. But I feel it is almost, or more, important to find good harmoniums, and learn to play them, (actually they're easy to play) and perform unusual pieces like Dvorak's Bagatelles on them, and keep them in the public eye. The wonder of life on Earth is about richness, especially richness that does not imply destroying the environment. Young people are increasingly difficult to keep entertained; it seems that only something coming out of a video monitor has the ability to keep them engaged. I suspect that the more balanced individual in tomorrow's society, and the ones on whom we can depend to provide motivation and leadership to solve the enormous problems tomorrow's society will face, will be aware of, and familiar with, a variety of cultures and traditions and cultural artifacts, and at an early age. We had better work on this; I doubt that my own child knows half the things I'm talking about ...
Talking about unusual instruments, Mozart wrote a few pieces for Glass Harmonica. The glass harmonica is essentially an instrument that uses an array of things like wineglasses to make a sound. You may know that it is possible to make a lovely sound by running a wet finger around the rim of a wineglass. You can even tune the note, by adding liquid to the glass. In a glass harmonica, the glass pieces are arranged sideways and rotated by a motor, with the lower parts dipped in a container of water, to keep them wet. Let me try and find you a video clip of one ... Here it is. (I have been known to disrupt wedding receptions by fooling around with the champagne glasses. I regret it now. At a wedding, we should leave the disruption to the couple.)
In popular music, my favorite group is The Beatles. Over the years, every one of them got a chance to sing in one song or another, but the majority of songs were sung, of course, by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Once the group disbanded, arguably it was George Harrison, who played Lead Guitar most of the time, who was best known for his post-Beatles career, certainly among those who were not initially Beatles fans. But the number of songs in which all three: George Harrison, John Lennon and Paul McCartney sang are relatively few.
One of the best known is Nowhere Man, a song that is sadly neglected nowadays. (It is a commentary on disengaged individuals, and was probably inspired by someone whose attention John Lennon wanted, and did not get!) The opening phrases are in 3 vocal parts, after which John takes over, and the other two sing backup. Another song, even less well known, is You're going to lose that girl, from Help! This follows a similar pattern, except that most of the song is with a single lead vocal, with backup in harmony by the other two.
While we're on 3-part harmony, here's another favorite: In the early morning rain, written by Gordon Lightfoot, and brilliantly outFooted by Peter, Paul and Mary, arguably the trio that sang the most correctly-written 3-part harmony, that is to say, the most satisfying to the classically-trained ear.
I plan to add a couple of examples here, but that's all for the moment! Talk to you later,
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