David Pogue

Article / Updated 10-09-2023

The clarinet looks somewhat like an oboe, but it makes a very different sound in classical music: full, but without the edge of the oboe’s sound. One important reason for this difference is that, whereas the oboe has a double reed (a piece of shaved cane doubled over on itself), the clarinet has a single reed. Credit: Source: Creative Commons A clarinet. Unlike oboists (and bassoonists), clarinetists don’t need to make their own reeds; they can buy reeds ready-made because clarinet reeds are much less temperamental than oboe reeds. Consequently, clarinetists — like their instruments — tend to be quite mellow as a species. The following information covers the most important clarinet facts to remember. Transposing instruments Clarinetists’ mellowness is fortunate, because they must contend with one of the strangest musical concepts: that the clarinet is a transposing instrument (one of several in the orchestra). This means that when you play one note, you get another. Don’t panic: there’s an explanation. On your average instrument — a flute, for example — what you play is what you get. You see a G on your sheet music, you play a G, and a G comes out. But play a G on a standard clarinet, and the note F comes out! In other words, it transposes down by one note. And that’s just the most common kind of clarinet. Since ancient times — long before the Age of Reason — clarinets have been available in a mind-blowing array of different sizes: big ones to play low notes, small ones to play higher notes. And each size of clarinet transposes by a different amount; that is, on a bigger clarinet, you might play what should be the note G, but an E comes out! As you can imagine, the mathematical complexities of trying to make the correct notes come out of the correct clarinet model drove decades of clarinetists quietly mad. Thankfully, some hotshot musician of the past had a great idea. How about making the composer do all the math? Suppose the composer compensated for the clarinet’s tendency to produce notes that were actually lower than what the player played — by writing the notes too high in the first place? Then all the player would have to do is play what she saw, and the right notes would come out. So suppose you’re playing the most common kind of clarinet, the one that transposes down one note. The composer wants to hear an F. No big deal — he just writes a G in the sheet music. You see the G, you play it — and F comes out. Just what the composer intended in the first place. The composer gets what he wants, nobody has to know about it, no money changes hands, and everybody’s happy. Clarinetists can now play any kind of clarinet with no adjustments whatsoever, thanks to composers’ extra effort of writing clarinet sheet music in a different key than the rest of the orchestra. Composers, conductors, and music lovers have come to accept that this sheet music is printed in the “wrong” key — for the sake of clarinetists all over the world. Most trumpet, saxophone, and French horn music works the same way; all of those are transposing instruments, as well. Hearing the clarinet Clarinets are instruments of great grace and agility, with a smooth, lovely sound; they blend beautifully with just about every other instrument in the orchestra. You might say that they’re easy to get along with — much like the people who play them. Check out some wonderful clarinet playing, such as the finale of Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number 22. Then listen to a very different sound — a high clarinet bird call in Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. If you’d like to hear some great concertos for the clarinet, you should definitely listen to the following compositions: Mozart: Clarinet Concerto in A major, K. 622 Aaron Copland: Clarinet Concerto Debussy: Première Rhapsodie for clarinet and orchestra Or check out these beautiful pieces: Brahms: Sonatas for Clarinet and Piano, Opus 120, Number 1 (in F minor) and Number 2 (in E-flat major) Mozart: Clarinet Quintet in A Major Franz Schubert: The Shepherd on the Rock, songs for voice, clarinet, and piano And, finally, you really should hear these beautiful clarinet parts within the orchestra: Mendelssohn: Incidental Music to A Midsummer Night’s Dream Sergei Rachmaninoff: Symphony Number 2 in E Minor (third movement)

Article / Updated 09-28-2023

Chamber music is music originally written for a small group of instruments, to be played in someone’s living room (or “chamber”) instead of a concert hall. These days, you’re most likely to hear it in a small public venue — a university recital hall, perhaps, or maybe even a coffeehouse or subway platform. In general, any group of instruments that can play without a conductor is chamber music. There’s much less public demand for chamber music than there is for big orchestral concerts. As a result, tickets to chamber music concerts are usually very cheap, or even free. But don’t think that chamber music is less fun to listen to; a really good performance can knock your socks off. In chamber music, the number of musicians is small, and each musician is usually just as important as every other. Instruments play off one another in delightful musical conversations. Because of the intimate and cooperative nature of chamber music, most musicians enjoy playing it more than anything else. And many of the recordings you hear are likely to be phenomenal performances. Here are some all-time chamber music favorites, organized by composer: Giovanni Gabrieli (1551–1612): Canzona noni toni for three brass groups (12 players). The Italian word canzona means “song.” A master of the Renaissance era, Gabrieli wrote many pieces like this one for the warm, generous acoustics of the Basilica of San Marco in Venice. The three brass groups sat in different parts of the church, and their sounds literally bounced off one another. Truly inspiring music. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791): Serenade no. 12 in C Minor for winds. Mozart created this intense, four-movement wind serenade for an evening’s background entertainment. It begins lugubriously but works its way to a jubilant close. Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827): String Quartet in C Major, Opus 59, No. 3. This piece is one of the three “Razumovsky” Quartets, dedicated to a rich Russian guy. Each quartet contains at least one Russian theme; it’s fun to pick out the themes as you listen. Franz Schubert (1797–1828): Quintet in A Major (The Trout). Schubert wrote this piece for one each of piano, violin, viola, cello, and bass. It’s in five movements, the fourth of which is a set of variations on one of Schubert’s best-loved songs, called (logically enough) “The Trout.” If you want to convince yourself that chamber music is fun, this is the piece! Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847): Octet in E-flat Major, Opus 20. At least two things are amazing about this composition: First, Felix wrote it when he was 16; second, it was his 20th published work! One of the best things he ever wrote. Johannes Brahms (1833–1897): Clarinet Quintet, Opus 115 in B Minor. Don’t be misled by its name — actually, this piece is written for a clarinet, two violins, a viola, and a cello. One critic wrote his review without having even attended the concert. “It was a good piece,” he wrote, “but the sound of five clarinets was rather odd.” Oops. César Franck (1822–1890): Sonata for Violin and Piano in A Major. Franck wrote this gorgeous piece near the end of his life, and it reflects his maturity and mastery of composing. Although Franck wrote it for the violin, it’s a favorite among flutists and cellists, too. Claude Debussy (1862–1918): Sonata for Cello and Piano. People often complain that modern music lacks melody. So what happens when the most well-known Impressionist composer (Debussy) teams up with the most singing of all instruments (the cello)? This happens. Lyrical, lush, and gorgeous, this sonata will convert you to Impressionism or your money back. Dmitri Shostakovich (1906–1975): String Quartet No. 3. Shostakovich wrote 15 string quartets, of which this one is his most lighthearted. It’s constructed in traditional sonata form (which you can read about in Chapter 3), but it’s full of modern, sparkling, humorous touches. Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971): L’histoire du soldat (The Soldier’s Tale). The piece is included, although it often needs a conductor to negotiate the tricky rhythms in performance. This piece uses seven instruments — the highly unusual combination of violin, bass, clarinet, bassoon, trumpet, trombone, drums — and a person, who reads a story about a soldier, a princess, and the devil. The music is clever, spicy, and surprisingly powerful.

Article / Updated 09-28-2023

Let’s meet the Classical orchestra. It’s the big night: You show up at the concert hall. But holy smokes, there are almost 100 people up on that stage. Here’s what they’re playing: Violin: The instrument is made of wood; the bow is made of horsehair; the four strings are made of metal; the sound is sweet, singing, and divine. Violin players are divided into two sections, first and second violins, each with different music to play. Viola: Slightly larger than a violin, a viola plays slightly lower notes, with a breathier or throatier sound than a violin. Cello: The cello is played sitting down, with the instrument between the legs. It makes a beautiful, rich, singing sound. Bass (or Double Bass): Enormous, bigger around than the average human being, the bass plays the lowest notes of all the strings, providing the foundation for the orchestra’s sound. It’s played sitting on a tall stool or standing up. Flute: The flute’s mouthpiece is blown across, just like a bottle; it produces a sweet, silvery sound. Oboe: This instrument is played by blowing into a reed, a whittled-down flat piece of sugar cane. It produces one of the most beautiful sounds on earth: clear, vibrant, sweet, plaintive, and full. Clarinet: This dark, tubular woodwind instrument creates a full, round sound, very pure, without the edge of the oboe’s sound. Bassoon: It looks like a plumbing pipe, but it sounds like a dream. The high notes sound throaty, even otherworldly. The middle notes sound luscious, full, mellow; low notes can be very powerful. French Horn (or just Horn): The most noble-sounding brass instrument has a full, round, dark tone, which is great for majestic hunting calls. Trumpet: The most powerful orchestral instrument and the highest-pitched brass instrument, the trumpet executes impressive runs and leaps in a single bound. Trombone: A powerful low brass instrument with a movable slide to change notes, the trombone is essential for parades, as well as symphonies. Tuba: The lowest of the brass instruments can produce a wall of low, blasting sound. Percussion: The player is expected to be a master of a vast range of different instruments: timpani (the great big kettledrums), bass drum, snare drum (for marches), cymbals (for crashing together), xylophone (played with mallets), and other oddities.

Article / Updated 09-28-2023

Despite stereotypes of old, long-haired, dead composers (and an even older audience), the art of creating classical music is still very much alive. Composers continue to write for soloists, chamber ensembles, and orchestras, and their works continue to carve new paths in the cultural landscape. But classical music in the 21st century differs from classical music of the 20th century in one important respect: It sounds less modern than the older music did. Here you can discover how composers lost their harmonic bearings a century ago — and recently found their way back again. Abandoning harmony In the 20th century, nearly all composers who wanted to be taken seriously experimented with new harsh discords and unsteady rhythms. On the assumption that all the possibilities of harmony had already been exhausted in the Romantic era, they decided to try something different. Composers threw themselves into the pursuit of atonality, or dissonance, even going so far as to embrace serialism — the idea that every single note had to be used with equal frequency. A few great masterpieces came out of this 20th-century ban on tonality — but really, only a few. It’s impossible to overstate the peer pressure that composers felt to abandon traditional harmony. Many extremely talented classical composers with traditional harmonic or melodic tendencies were absolutely stymied by this temporary mass hysteria. Nobody knows what works of genius could have resulted had these composers been able express themselves fully. Returning to sanity The fact is, traditional harmony is based on the series of natural overtones, and that’s why it sounds beautiful to many people’s ears. In the 21st century, classical composers are once again turning to the tried-and-true harmonies that made the music of earlier centuries so successful. (Of course, popular music never abandoned these harmonies; that’s one reason why it’s called popular.) Today’s groundbreaking classical composers are more likely than not to use tonality — and it’s no surprise that they are finding a wider audience than before. Classical composers are also incorporating today’s dance forms into their music — just as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart used the minuet, Johann Strauss used the waltz, Gustav Mahler used the Ländler, and Leonard Bernstein used the mambo. The contemporary composer Mason Bates worked as a DJ for years before creating compositions that juxtapose the orchestra with groovy synthesized dance jams. Composers as different as Aaron Jay Kernis, Jennifer Higdon, Kenji Bunch, Osvaldo Golijov, and Michael Abels have been known to incorporate strains of jazz or rock into their work. Just as interesting, in the 21st century, is the interface between concert music and music for movies, TV, and video games. John Williams, Oscar-winning composer of countless world-renowned film scores, has also lent his signature style to several beautiful concert works — most notably concertos for harp, bassoon, tuba, and cello, each with orchestra. And the Grammy-nominated video game composer Austin Wintory is making his mark in the concert hall, as well. These new developments are welcome. Once upon a time there was no difference between classical and popular music. There was only music — the music of the people. The craziness of the 20th-century music intensified charges of elitism that sent people flying from concert halls in droves. Today’s audiences are much more likely to stay. The public is becoming more interested in what the composers are doing. Composers are relating to their listeners, and vice versa. Slowly, classical music is starting to become the music of the people once again. Listening to the music of the 21st century Talented young composers are whipping up delicious new creations all the time. Check out the offerings of your local orchestra, or tune in to any classical radio station, for a few gorgeous examples. But you can’t go wrong with these beautiful pieces, all written since the turn of the millennium: Michael Abels: Delights and Dances for string quartet with orchestra Mason Bates: The B Sides Kenji Bunch: Symphony no. 1 (Lichtenstein Triptych) Anna Clyne: Night Ferry Osvaldo Golijov: Mariel Jennifer Higdon: blue cathedral Aaron Jay Kernis: Color Wheel Kevin Puts: Piano Concerto (Night) Christopher Theofanidis: Rainbow Body John Williams: Harp Concerto (On Willows and Birches)

Article / Updated 09-28-2023

Classical music notation be confusing. If you sit down at the piano and plunk out one of Ludwig van Beethoven’s incredible sonatas, you have only his written score to work from. The notes are all there, along with the rhythms and dynamics. However, it’s impossible to say how closely this written music mirrors the brilliant ideas in the composer’s head. When musicians play any old music, in fact, all they have to go on is the composer’s notation. The written notes consist almost exclusively of exact subdivisions of a beat, such as eighth notes — or of exact multiples of a beat, such as whole notes. But in theory, a note can last any length of time. There was no way in Beethoven’s time to write a note that lasted about two-sevenths of a beat. What would Beethoven have done if he wanted such a note? He could only write an approximation. The fact is that any written musical notation can only scratch the surface of the composer’s intentions. The duration of a written note may be ever so slightly longer or shorter than the composer was actually feeling. The composer’s specified tempo (speed) might sound good only in rooms with certain acoustics. Even the addition of dynamics — markings to play loudly or softly, or to grow or diminish in volume — only give the vaguest idea of what the composer wanted. The earliest composers wrote nothing but the notes themselves — no indication of duration, speed, rhythm, or volume. A Gregorian chant from the Middle Ages looks like an unending sequence of pitches on a musical staff, a bunch of black dots going up and down. How should that be performed? Because chants were sung in a monastery, most people think they should be performed slowly, reverently, without any particular rhythm, and with a gentle ebb and flow of volume — much as you might modulate your voice in a simple prayer. But who’s to say? Maybe they were meant to be screeched and wailed, at the top of your lungs, like a Van Halen guitar solo. No one will ever know. In the Baroque era, when composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach notated the speed of the music at all, their markings were rudimentary: allegro (cheerful) or adagio (at ease), for example. But how fast is “cheerful,” and how slow is “at ease”? Furthermore, Baroque dynamic markings usually consisted of piano (softly) and forte (strongly) — and nothing in between. To this day, musicians have no idea whether most Baroque composers ever wanted to hear a gradual crescendo (growing) or diminuendo (diminishing) in volume. As a result, sometimes Baroque music is performed with ever-changing dynamics, and sometimes it isn’t. Composers in the Classical era added more dynamic markings, and Ludwig van Beethoven was one of the first to use the metronome to specify a certain number of beats per minute. But even then, the dynamic and tempo notations remained inexact. A crescendo performed by a group of 24 musicians sounds very different from a crescendo made by a big orchestra of 100. And a superfast metronome marking might work comfortably for a small group of consummate virtuosos in a small room with clear acoustics — yet it might sound ridiculously frantic in the hands of a big group of amateurs in a boomy cathedral. Some composers, especially in the Romantic era and beyond, have tried to overcome this lack of precision by adding extra words. For example, rather than just writing crescendo (growing), a composer might write molto crescendo (growing a lot), or even moltissimo crescendo (growing a heck of a lot). But even then — how much is a lot? The composer Gustav Mahler, himself a great conductor and interpreter of other people’s works, went to extremes to be understood. He was known to write such things as “from here until the end, make a gradual yet constant increase in volume.” But how gradual is gradual? How loud is the music to begin with? And how loud should it be at the end? Even today, there is no foolproof way to communicate musical intentions in notated form. The fact is that all written music needs to be interpreted. And that’s where the fun begins. No matter how meticulously the composer has tried to capture his or her ideas on paper, it takes a person (or a group) with imagination and interesting musical ideas to attempt to embody what the composer intended. Music is nothing without living, breathing musicians to bring it to life. Thank goodness for that!

Article / Updated 10-06-2022

The orchestra world is a slowly evolving beast. At its heart, a classical concert is the same animal that your grandparents may recognize. However, the past two decades have seen developments that have brought the audience closer to the music. Here’s a look at what’s changed — and what’s not. Identifying what’s new First, much more new music is being performed, which is due primarily to one factor: new music is gorgeous again. Rather than exploring ever more alien and atonal styles, composers are reverting to tried-and-true ideas like melody, harmony, and beauty. The sound of a symphony written yesterday is all the more beautiful for exceeding expectations; the sight of a living composer onstage does wonders to remind the audience that music is a living thing. Second, in recent years the prospect of a female or minority conductor or soloist (or President of the United States) has gone from strangely curious to practically normal — and the audition screen (a physical barrier between auditioning musicians and the jury, so that nobody knows what the auditioner looks like) has further leveled the playing field for female and minority musicians in major orchestras. Orchestras are finally beginning to look more and more like the rest of the world. Third, many orchestras have begun programming thematically — grouping the works on a program, or the programs in a series, according to a common theme (and naming the concert or series after that theme). Once the purview of smaller, more nimble orchestras, this practice has spread to many more, creating instant associations for the audience among the pieces on the program. It’s not unusual to see a whole program devoted to music about the ocean, for example — or a whole season devoted to the music of proudly nationalist composers. Of course, thematic programming is a marketer’s dream because it can easily spur the imagination — and it really helps pack the hall. But this kind of programming isn’t yet universally accepted, especially in the larger orchestras. Fourth, small chamber groups and even whole orchestras have taken to performing in unorthodox venues, such as bars and coffeehouses. Audiences get a kick out of seeing their favorite guest artists up close, feeling like part of a special fan club — and maybe sharing a beer with them later. Finally, conductors, soloists, and chamber groups have begun talking to the audience from the stage. Even the most engaged listeners don’t always read the program book. Some conductors welcome the audience and comment on the history and structure of a complex work, sometimes having the orchestra demonstrate with examples. Even for the most musically knowledgeable audiences, a few words from the podium don’t hurt a bit. These are all wonderful trends, providing a point of departure for new and old listeners alike. Unfortunately, with the exception of a few groundbreaking orchestras, just about everything else about the classical concert experience in the United States has remained the same over the past decade. For that matter, it’s remained the same over the past century. The concert as picture in a gilded frame, painted on a canvas of silence, can be a stunningly beautiful thing. But even 90 years ago, the presentation of classical music, with its excessive reverence for the frame rather than the picture, appeared hopelessly antiquated to many. As far back as the 1920s, composers dreamed of shattering the barriers that had grown up around classical music organizations, whose conventional concerts they derided as “orgies of inbreeding.” Classical music, in fact, is the only art form that is still presented in essentially the same way as it was 100 years ago. Musical organizations often say that they don’t want the symphonic world to end up as a museum. Actually, they should be so lucky; with their stunning new exhibits and interactive displays, many of today’s museums are far more innovative than most orchestras. Opera and theater companies mount imaginative new productions of old masterworks; ballet companies commission tons of new choreography and new music. No doubt about it — compared to the producers of opera, dance, theater, and visual art, the typical classical music group still lags far behind. Looking to the future A great performance is vital and moving. But how should the presentation of art evolve over the next century? In most parts of the Western world, classical performances still attract an overwhelmingly Caucasian, Eurocentric, upper-middle-class, elderly audience. Surely that wouldn’t have satisfied the great composers, who poured out their hearts for all humanity. Musicians could go a long way toward refuting the cry of elitism by changing their uniforms. Seriously, what’s with the black and white? Tuxedos or black suits are fine for certain occasions, such as funerals — but must they be the norm in concert? They smack of exclusivity. They create a distance that the composer never intended. Surely someone can come up with a uniform that’s classy, elegant, modern, welcoming, and chic. If the Beatles could do it more than half a century ago, it can be done now. Classical music will attract some people more than others — and it’s a harder sell to teenage audiences. But look at the enormous success of Video Games Live — a sampling of video game images set to lush and dramatic (and overly amplified) orchestral music — which has filled classical concert halls to the brim throughout the world, with hardly a gray hair in sight. The same goes for the Lord of the Rings Symphony, complete with full orchestra and 200-voice chorus, which sold out multiple performances in prominent classical venues. Have you listened to this music? Seldom have the soundtracks of movies or video games so closely resembled the German Late Romantics. And young people love it. The visuals get them in the door, but it’s the music that makes their pulses race. Could it be that those who have fallen for The Return of the King or World of Warcraft could come to crave Brünnhilde’s immolation scene from Götterdämmerung — with appropriate visuals? In the last century, venerable conductors such as Leopold Stokowski and Herbert von Karajan experimented with every medium, using technology to enhance the art form. Today’s classical musicians should follow their example. Society is increasingly visual; there’s no question that the next few decades will bring more video into the concert hall. Finding the truest solution Of course, visuals can go only so far; this is a medium of sound. Orchestras evolve at different rates, and there will always be room for the concert of the past. How do musical organizations give audiences a thorough understanding of why sounds matter? One way or another, the key is education. Young children eagerly embrace classical music. Their minds are fully open; they immediately grasp the playful spirit of the great composers. It’s rare to meet a child who doesn’t love classical music. Early exposure to classical music can ignite a lifelong passion. This is the truest solution, the kind that will ensure that future generations can share in the riches of classical music. The fact that you’re discovering these riches is a wonderful start. The best thing you can do now is share them with someone even younger.

Cheat Sheet / Updated 02-23-2022

The world of classical music becomes quite a bit less mysterious when you know the names and functions of all the musical instruments, and a basic timeline of the music itself. This Cheat Sheet will help you discuss classical music with confidence.

Cheat Sheet / Updated 12-21-2021

Learning and practicing magic is fun and challenging and to keep it as stress-free as possible be prepared to coolly answer questions about your tricks and make a quick recovery when a trick goes wrong. Know the different types of people in your audience so you can deal with their sometimes offbeat behavior and study some key words you will use repeatedly as you continue on your magic career.

Article / Updated 11-23-2021

This resource center is an interactive addition to Classical Music For Dummies, with bonus material created to help you better understand the concepts and techniques from the book. You can navigate to your desired audio tracks by selecting individual tracks in the content menu. Please note that the audio tracks do not feature any video, so the player may display a blank screen while playing. If you would like to download the audio tracks for offline playing, use the Download links provided below. Be sure to download to your computer first, unzip the files, then transfer the audio files to any portable devices after that. Download the audio tracks Audio Tracks 1-9 Listen to the Audio Tracks

Article / Updated 05-11-2021

Most audience members enjoy the entertainment and mystery of a magic show. But magic is an assault on every law of nature we’ve learned — making some people’s brains squirm. As you’re working through your magical career, here are some of the rarer magic spectators to watch out for: The Yellow-Bellied Grabber: This spectator can’t resist grabbing your props. Before you perform, you’ll find him circling you like a vulture, trying to peek into your stuff; after each trick, he’s the first to snatch your props away in hopes of finding out how you did it. Turn him into your ally by choosing him to help with a trick that makes him look good. The Ruby-Throated Guesser: Immediately after you’ve created some moment of impeccable, poetic magic, this species shouts out her theory as to how you did it. ("You switched it when we weren’t looking!") That can rattle you if you’re not used to it; have a clever line (or another trick) ready to go, just in case. The Farfetched Guesser: This sub-class of spectator also likes to shout out guesses — but this variety comes up with incredibly ridiculous theories. They’ll accuse you of writing down a prediction in your pocket during the tenth of a second when you were reaching for a pen, or of having magnets installed in your hands, or of having made a secret agreement with everyone else in the audience before the show started. Although most people recognize the absurdity of these guesses, the outbursts can still detract from the delicious final moment of a trick. The Long-Billed Believer: In this age of Psychic Hotlines, X-Files, and alien-abduction theories, an increasing number of audiences actually believe in magic. Do a mindreading trick for this kind, and you get almost no reaction at all — just a small, knowing smile and some nodding. It can be hard to impress one of these onlookers, since they’ve quietly believed all along that reality is a government conspiracy. The Clueless Dodo Bird: Somebody who forgets his card, making your trick worthless — or, worse, doesn’t follow instructions. The Puff-Chested Boyfriend: In the presence of a girlfriend, a funny thing happens to this ordinarily easygoing species: He becomes surprisingly defensive, remarkably unreceptive to being entertained by the magic. He doesn’t like her to see that he can be fooled. The Fuzzy-Tummied Hatchling: Performing for children — or the childlike — can be one of the most rewarding experiences for a magician. A child doesn’t yet have the ego of a Guesser or a Puff-Chested Boyfriend, and therefore isn’t threatened by your magic. As a result, you can relax, focusing on what you’re saying, on creating a feeling of mystery, on your delivery — and then bask in a young child’s reaction of pure wonder and delight.