The way my mind works...
So I was reviewing a grant application, and I read one of the reference letters. It was a typical reference letter, a little vague maybe, but you know. A reference letter.
That reminded me that I once had a teacher refuse to write me a reference letter. I had worked as his music librarian and they had overpaid me by one paycheck and I had joked that it was a bonus (while handing him the check back). He said he couldn't write a reference letter for someone who felt she could joke about taking money from his coffers. Diiiiiiiiiiiick. He was my first college band director. I looked him up. He's retired now. Then I peeked around my first college, to see who was still around, if anyone. The orchestra director, but that's about it. There was a new clarinet teacher, someone I didn't know - Todd Levy. He's the principal clarinetist for the Milwaukee Symphony, and he has a recording on iTunes of the Brahms sonatas.
It's gorgeous. I texted my brother and we back and forthed about it a while, talking about each other's playing (and he gave me the most flattering comment, I can't even tell you), and just like that I missed being a music major, being so completely lost in the world of classical music I couldn't find my way out.
I couldn't afford to buy Todd Levy's version (though I will on payday, that's a given), but I do have David Shifrin's version (and until now, it was my absolute favorite), so let me share with you Shifrin's interpretation of the two Brahms clarinet sonatas from A Brahms-Schumann Soiree:
Brahms Sonata #1 in F Minor
I. Allegro appassionato
II. Andante un poco adagio
III. Allegretto grazioso
IV. Vivace
Brahms Sonata #2 in Eb Major
I. Allegro amabile
II. Allegro, molto appassionato
III. Andante con moto - Allegro
ETA: Fixed so the links work now. Dammit, someday I will get the hang of addressing the stuff I put on![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
soleta's site.
These are beautiful and complex works, and while similar in sound, very different in tone and theme. Clarinetists usually play them both but tend to love the one they played first the best (I played the F minor first). They're both absolutely gorgeous pieces and I cannot recommend them highly enough, and Shifrin's interpretation is good and his tone quality is what I consider to be the epitome of good clarinet sound (my one caveat: he uses a slight vibrato, and I prefer straight tone, no vibrato - this is why I actually prefer Todd Levy's version).
This, then, made me want to write Cadman and John playing these gorgeous works, so I wrote a snippet of not-Impromptu (Impromptu is from Rodney's POV; I have several thousand words of not-Impromptu written from John's POV). I have no idea if this will make any sense to anyone who is not a professional musician, but I hope it will.
"Which one?" John asks, pulling out his scores. He likes them both, but the F minor is his absolute favorite.
"E flat," Laura answers, and laughs as soon as she sees his face. "But maybe we should do both. I can see you like the F minor."
John shrugs. "I like them both."
"But you like the F minor better," Laura says, still grinning. "I bet that's the first one you played."
John nods.
"Yeah, it's like that for clarinetists too, I think. You just get really attached to your first Brahms sonata. So let's do both. I don't know the F minor as well, and it doesn't hurt to get more familiar with it. I teach it every semester to one student or another."
"All right," John says, because he's never going to turn down more Brahms. "How many rehearsals do you want?"
"What's your fee?" Laura asks. "I don't know that I can afford you anymore, bigshot."
John rolls his eyes at her. "I'm not accompanying you, Laura – these are duets. And they're not a full recital – do you want to do something else?"
Laura raises an eyebrow. "I don't suppose we could talk your boyfriend into doing the Bartók?"
"Ooh," John says, before his brain catches up and he frowns at her. "He's not my – I don't have a boyfriend." Laura laughs again and John frowns harder. "I won't ask him, if that's how you're going to be."
Laura mimes zipping her mouth shut and puts her hands together like she's earnestly praying. "Come on, pleeeeeease? I bet he loves the Contrasts."
John would bet Rodney loves Contrasts too, but he's not sure he dares put him in the same room as Laura long enough to rehearse. He pulls out his phone and texts him. Bartok with Cadman, sometime in November?
Laura beams at him with a mouthful of reeds. She looks like a vampire with wooden teeth. "So, you want to read the Brahms today, or something else?"
He shrugs. He could probably play the F minor in his sleep, though he's a little rusty on the E flat. "Up to you. We could warm up with something easier. Schumann, maybe."
"Ugh," Laura says, pulling the reeds out of her mouth. "I hate the Fantasiestücke. Hindemith?"
"Ugh," John says, wincing. "What is with everybody's love of Hindemith? My dog could have written his sonatas."
"Not true," Laura says, but she flips through more music in her briefcase. "Oh! Hey, I bet you haven't done the Muczynski. Want to try it?"
"Sure," John says, because he's always up for a challenge. "When was it written?"
"1984," Laura says, throwing him the score. "But not too tough for all that. Fun little piece."
"Time Pieces?" John asks, raising an eyebrow. He's never really been fond of sonatas with catchy titles.
"Give it a try before you knock it," she says, just as his phone vibrates in his pocket. The text from Rodney reads Should I know who Cadman is?
John texts him back and turns his phone off, reading through some of the Muczynski. It's an interesting piece, should be fun to play. It is – moody and rhythmic, ethereal in some places and jumpy in others, a nice pairing between the piano and the clarinet, too. They play through the four movements as a warm-up, and John's smiling like an idiot by the end of it. He's going to have to start playing with more wind players, if this is the kind of repertoire they get.
"You know," Laura says when they quit laughing at the horribly out-of-time ending, "I haven't played the Quartet for the End of Time since graduate school."
"Ooh," John says, and he's glad he and Laura stopped sleeping together, because they really work better musically than they ever did in bed. "Do you know a cellist?"
Laura gives him a scathing look. "Do you?"
Rodney talks about Radek Zelenka sometimes, and John's always wanted to play with him, but he's always seemed out of John's league; he supposes they're in the same league now, and that makes him incredibly uncomfortable.
He hasn't seen Cam since Julliard, but he's playing with Orpheus, so John thinks he might be able to pull some strings there. "Aren't you friends with the whiz kid? Jinto?"
Laura laughs. "Yeah, but kid. He's brilliant, but I'm thinking of someone with a little more life experience, you know?"
John nods, checking his phone. The text from Rodney is undecided. Maybe. We'd have to schedule around Denver.
Know a cellist who might be interested in doing the Messiaen? he sends back, knowing that there's no way Rodney would turn down Quartet for the End of Time. They'll just have to find some time to do it, which, considering how quickly his schedule's filled up, will be tougher than he would have ever imagined just a couple of months ago. Rodney texts back almost immediately – he would have snarked right back at John if they had been on the phone. Let's just see how the Bartok goes first.
"Come on," he says to Laura, smoothing his Brahms on the rack. "Let's see how rusty we are."
That reminded me that I once had a teacher refuse to write me a reference letter. I had worked as his music librarian and they had overpaid me by one paycheck and I had joked that it was a bonus (while handing him the check back). He said he couldn't write a reference letter for someone who felt she could joke about taking money from his coffers. Diiiiiiiiiiiick. He was my first college band director. I looked him up. He's retired now. Then I peeked around my first college, to see who was still around, if anyone. The orchestra director, but that's about it. There was a new clarinet teacher, someone I didn't know - Todd Levy. He's the principal clarinetist for the Milwaukee Symphony, and he has a recording on iTunes of the Brahms sonatas.
It's gorgeous. I texted my brother and we back and forthed about it a while, talking about each other's playing (and he gave me the most flattering comment, I can't even tell you), and just like that I missed being a music major, being so completely lost in the world of classical music I couldn't find my way out.
I couldn't afford to buy Todd Levy's version (though I will on payday, that's a given), but I do have David Shifrin's version (and until now, it was my absolute favorite), so let me share with you Shifrin's interpretation of the two Brahms clarinet sonatas from A Brahms-Schumann Soiree:
Brahms Sonata #1 in F Minor
I. Allegro appassionato
II. Andante un poco adagio
III. Allegretto grazioso
IV. Vivace
Brahms Sonata #2 in Eb Major
I. Allegro amabile
II. Allegro, molto appassionato
III. Andante con moto - Allegro
ETA: Fixed so the links work now. Dammit, someday I will get the hang of addressing the stuff I put on
soleta's site.These are beautiful and complex works, and while similar in sound, very different in tone and theme. Clarinetists usually play them both but tend to love the one they played first the best (I played the F minor first). They're both absolutely gorgeous pieces and I cannot recommend them highly enough, and Shifrin's interpretation is good and his tone quality is what I consider to be the epitome of good clarinet sound (my one caveat: he uses a slight vibrato, and I prefer straight tone, no vibrato - this is why I actually prefer Todd Levy's version).
This, then, made me want to write Cadman and John playing these gorgeous works, so I wrote a snippet of not-Impromptu (Impromptu is from Rodney's POV; I have several thousand words of not-Impromptu written from John's POV). I have no idea if this will make any sense to anyone who is not a professional musician, but I hope it will.
"Which one?" John asks, pulling out his scores. He likes them both, but the F minor is his absolute favorite.
"E flat," Laura answers, and laughs as soon as she sees his face. "But maybe we should do both. I can see you like the F minor."
John shrugs. "I like them both."
"But you like the F minor better," Laura says, still grinning. "I bet that's the first one you played."
John nods.
"Yeah, it's like that for clarinetists too, I think. You just get really attached to your first Brahms sonata. So let's do both. I don't know the F minor as well, and it doesn't hurt to get more familiar with it. I teach it every semester to one student or another."
"All right," John says, because he's never going to turn down more Brahms. "How many rehearsals do you want?"
"What's your fee?" Laura asks. "I don't know that I can afford you anymore, bigshot."
John rolls his eyes at her. "I'm not accompanying you, Laura – these are duets. And they're not a full recital – do you want to do something else?"
Laura raises an eyebrow. "I don't suppose we could talk your boyfriend into doing the Bartók?"
"Ooh," John says, before his brain catches up and he frowns at her. "He's not my – I don't have a boyfriend." Laura laughs again and John frowns harder. "I won't ask him, if that's how you're going to be."
Laura mimes zipping her mouth shut and puts her hands together like she's earnestly praying. "Come on, pleeeeeease? I bet he loves the Contrasts."
John would bet Rodney loves Contrasts too, but he's not sure he dares put him in the same room as Laura long enough to rehearse. He pulls out his phone and texts him. Bartok with Cadman, sometime in November?
Laura beams at him with a mouthful of reeds. She looks like a vampire with wooden teeth. "So, you want to read the Brahms today, or something else?"
He shrugs. He could probably play the F minor in his sleep, though he's a little rusty on the E flat. "Up to you. We could warm up with something easier. Schumann, maybe."
"Ugh," Laura says, pulling the reeds out of her mouth. "I hate the Fantasiestücke. Hindemith?"
"Ugh," John says, wincing. "What is with everybody's love of Hindemith? My dog could have written his sonatas."
"Not true," Laura says, but she flips through more music in her briefcase. "Oh! Hey, I bet you haven't done the Muczynski. Want to try it?"
"Sure," John says, because he's always up for a challenge. "When was it written?"
"1984," Laura says, throwing him the score. "But not too tough for all that. Fun little piece."
"Time Pieces?" John asks, raising an eyebrow. He's never really been fond of sonatas with catchy titles.
"Give it a try before you knock it," she says, just as his phone vibrates in his pocket. The text from Rodney reads Should I know who Cadman is?
John texts him back and turns his phone off, reading through some of the Muczynski. It's an interesting piece, should be fun to play. It is – moody and rhythmic, ethereal in some places and jumpy in others, a nice pairing between the piano and the clarinet, too. They play through the four movements as a warm-up, and John's smiling like an idiot by the end of it. He's going to have to start playing with more wind players, if this is the kind of repertoire they get.
"You know," Laura says when they quit laughing at the horribly out-of-time ending, "I haven't played the Quartet for the End of Time since graduate school."
"Ooh," John says, and he's glad he and Laura stopped sleeping together, because they really work better musically than they ever did in bed. "Do you know a cellist?"
Laura gives him a scathing look. "Do you?"
Rodney talks about Radek Zelenka sometimes, and John's always wanted to play with him, but he's always seemed out of John's league; he supposes they're in the same league now, and that makes him incredibly uncomfortable.
He hasn't seen Cam since Julliard, but he's playing with Orpheus, so John thinks he might be able to pull some strings there. "Aren't you friends with the whiz kid? Jinto?"
Laura laughs. "Yeah, but kid. He's brilliant, but I'm thinking of someone with a little more life experience, you know?"
John nods, checking his phone. The text from Rodney is undecided. Maybe. We'd have to schedule around Denver.
Know a cellist who might be interested in doing the Messiaen? he sends back, knowing that there's no way Rodney would turn down Quartet for the End of Time. They'll just have to find some time to do it, which, considering how quickly his schedule's filled up, will be tougher than he would have ever imagined just a couple of months ago. Rodney texts back almost immediately – he would have snarked right back at John if they had been on the phone. Let's just see how the Bartok goes first.
"Come on," he says to Laura, smoothing his Brahms on the rack. "Let's see how rusty we are."
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And I'm glad it shines through how much I love this stuff, because I really, really do.