New Voice: Hi, I’m Dedee. I sit second violin section leader in The Timpanogos Symphony Orchestra. I love playing the violin and interacting with this fantastic group! I am very excited that I am now helping with the blog. I love writing, I love Classical music, and I love people. I’m passionate about sharing my love of all these things with you. My more specific goal is to help people understand that classical music isn’t as remote and people think it is.
So to start, I’m going to share one of my favorite memories. I grew up watching the movie Fantasia (and it’s sequel, Fantasia 2000). I love everything about that movie (except the Rites of Spring, sorry). The centaurs, the dancing mushrooms, a magical misfit, a dark Halloween night. Love! The first thing I thought when considering how classical music shapes our world today was a certain mouse who made his first appearance in Fantasia, and whose presence is still felt today. Here’s the story behind that piece:
What do you get when you mix an 18th century drama king with a late 19th century perfectionist and a 20th century visionary?
A mouse.
The genesis of this mouse starts clear back in 1797 when this crazy popular writer, dramatist, and artist, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, wrote a poem in 14 stanzas called Der Zauberlehrling, which translates into The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.
At the beginning of Goethe’s career, he wrote in the “Sturm und Drang” literary movement which, amongst other things, loved extreme emotion (You could call these writers the “emo” teens of the literary world). Consider these lines from the poem: “You, hell’s miscreate abortion/Is this house doomed to perdition?/Sign I see in every portion/Of impending demolition.” Our hero is practically wailing, “Is this house doomed to Hell? We’re going to be destroyed! Stop!” You can see him wallowing in despair. Luckily for Goethe, everyone back then loved his drama king tendencies. He was wildly popular (and a little [lot!] naughty, but I digress).
Moving forward 100 years. Literally.
The second player in creation of the life of our mouse is Paul Dukas, our 19th century perfectionist.
Paul Dukas was a classical composer in the late 1800s. He composed at least 38 pieces of music. (By way of comparison, Goethe left behind 10,000 drawings, alone!)
And destroyed a bunch of them because they weren’t perfect enough.
He ended up only allowing 14 of his 38 works to be published. His most famous work is The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, a symphonic poem based on Goethe’s poem. (I know, lots of poems. A Symphonic poem is basically a piece of music that is written for a lot of instruments that tells a story.)
Dukas grew to hate The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. It was too popular. He felt it overshadowed his other works, and he was correct. To this day it is the only work by him consistently performed. He died in 1935, too early to see his music brought to life on the silver screen. I’m guessing that if he is alive somewhere, he’s probably happy that he missed that event, because what was already an immensely popular piece was about to become a “transcendent blessing” that would not only give his song immortality, it would permanently relegate his other works to near oblivion. It also created an icon recognizable the world over.
Enter Walter Elias Disney, a self-made man who loved animation and was always trying to push boundaries; our 20th century visionary.
From Steamboat Willie on, Walt Disney was testing the boundaries of animation. But Walt’s beloved Mickey was waning in popularity. The Disney studios needed something to boost the Mouse back into stardom. And so, as they were finishing a “silly symphony” called the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, they developed the idea for a "concert feature" and the movie Fantasia was born. Fantasia was created, in part, to give people who did not like classical music a new way to enjoy the medium. And enjoy it they did. According to filmsite.org, Fantasia ranks number 24 in the top 100 grossing movies worldwide after adjustment for inflation.
And the red-robed mouse is a major reason for that popularity. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is the most popular segment from the original Fantasia. Mickey’s star rose immediately. The show has been riffed in everything from movies to books The segment was the only part of the original that was carried over to Fantasia 2000. The curious, red-robed mouse with his blue hat covered in stars is beloved the world over.
Watch the clip here.
So why does this all matter?
We live in a world where Classical music is proclaimed remote, inaccessible, and not relevant to current society. But that’s really not the case. Classical music is everywhere in the world that you and I live in. Take this mouse. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice Mickey is the second most iconic Mickey look. He stars in the show Fantasmic that runs in Disneyland today. He is used in television shows and video games. Around the world, Mickey has become a symbol of imagination and creativity.
A 19th century perfectionist wrote an amazing piece of music based on an 18th century drama king’s poem. A 20th century visionary took that song and gave it a face. And now, here, in the 21st century, because of those men and that piece of classical music, we have an icon.
We aren’t playing the Sorcerer’s Apprentice this year. But we are playing Uranus as part of Gustav Holst’s The Planets. Holst and Dukas were contemporaries. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice was composed almost 20 years earlier than The Planets. (We are going to talk a lot about The Planets in the next few of weeks. It's influence is everywhere, starting in a galaxy far, far away.)
Holst and Dukas seem to have the same attitude about bassoons. Bassoons at the time were considered the “clowns” of the orchestra. In both Uranus and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the magic is introduced by the “clowns”, the bassoons. The melodies both happen in a 1, 2, 3, skippity-skip-a-skip-a-skippity-skip-a pattern. If you listen to The Sorcerer’s Apprentice right before our next concert, and then listen closely as we play Uranus, you might be able to hear echoes of Mickey the bassoons.
“In a Galaxy Far, Far Away” September 27, and 28, 2019. For more information, and tickets, Click Here.
Next week: You know the music, but did you know it was classical music? A 19th century drama king that permeates our world.
In 1968, Stanley Kubrick released 2001: A Space Odyssey. It’s a weird movie, really. But there was this music. Epic. Thunderous. Music that makes you want to stand up and conquer! You know the music. But do you know where it came from and just how wildly popular it is? Have a listen.
“Sunrise” is the first minute and a half in a 30 minute tone poem called Also Sprach Zarathustra (Thus Spake Zarathustra) by Richard Struass. What’s a tone poem? A piece of music that describes something. Who is Richard Strauss? A German composer born in 1864 that has a unique story. He started composing when he was six. Six! His work bridged two classical music eras; the Romantic and the Modern. He was definitely the rock star of his time, but a controversial one. He died in 1949.
Richard Strauss wrote Also Sprach Zarathustra in the late 1890s, relatively early in his career. It was based on the book of the same name by Frederich Nietzsche. (I have no idea how to say that without sounding 100% ‘Murican.) His work was lush and complicated*. He really was a bit of a drama king in his compositions, from large, full-orchestra, grandiose moments to just three or four instruments playing softly.
Strauss lived in Germany through both world wars. Hitler admired the work of Strauss and pressed Strauss into working for him (as in, he nominated him for a position without Strauss even knowing). Strauss accepted the appointment to save his Jewish daughter-in-law and grandchildren, but it was a tenuous relationship at best.
Joseph Goebbels, second only to Hitler in nastiness, said of Strauss, “Unfortunately we still need him, but one day we shall have our own music and then we shall have no further need of this decadent neurotic.” The feeling was mutual. After the war was over Strauss said, “The most terrible period of human history is at an end, the twelve year reign of bestiality, ignorance and anti-culture under the greatest criminals, during which Germany's 2000 years of cultural evolution met its doom.”
These two men have attained immortality (or infamy). I like Strauss’s version of immortality better.
“Sunrise” is used three times in Kubrick's movie. You can find the opening scene here. This is the scene from the middle of the movie. Strauss gets going at about 6:15.
Like I said, weird movie. But because of it, Strauss’s song went from relative obscurity to instant fame. It’s probably more well known than the movie is. (Also, did you listen through the whole thing? That really strange sounding music when the monolith appears? Don’t forget that.**)
“But,” I can hear you saying, “That was 1968? It’s 2019. There’s no way that song has lasted this long?”
Rock n' Roll: Elvis, in the late 1970’s, used it to open his shows.
Pro Wrestling: In the the late 80’s Ric Flair used it for his entrance video for about 5 years.
Hello, World!
TV: Many of the uses of Also Sprach Zarathustra are parodying 2001: A Space Odyssey. This clip is from 1991 from the beginning of a Simpsons episode titled “2001: The Homer Odyssey”.
Disney: Pixar joined the party in Toy Story 2 (1999). Strauss shows up within the first four minutes of the movie. Pixar must have loved the song. They used it again in Wall-E with a computer that looks suspiciously like HAL.
Live Action Movies: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005) If you watch closely, you can see the movie playing on the TV in the background. If Charlie and the Chocolate Factory isn't your thing, you can try Zoolander instead.
Commercials:
Video Games:
College Football:
Today: Phish used their version of Also Sprach Zarathustra to open their concert on September 1, 2019. The song was released in the mid 90's, but the concertgoers still love it!
The Timpanogos Symphony Orchestra is playing the Strauss at our September concert. And a little bit of Atmospheres (see below). Come hear these songs in person on September 27 and 28. Click here for more information.
*We played Also Sprach Zarathustra two years ago. There were times where the 16 second violins were playing 16 different parts! Maybe Strauss was neurotic.
**Remember the weird monolith music? Kubrick also used songs by a composer by the name of Gyorgy Ligeti. Ligeti wrote crazy atonal stuff. That strange, otherworldly sounding music when the monolith appears is from Ligeti’s Requiem. He also wrote a piece called “Atmospheres” that Kubrick liked so much he used the whole thing in the film. Ligeti didn’t like that at all, because Kubrick didn’t get permission from him to use it. He actually sued Kubrick for using it. They settled out of court, but Kubrick happily paid the settlement. They ended up working together on two other films.