A little turkey, a little Brahms

So last Thursday evening had me driving staight from the ICU to the symphony center downtown for a performance of Brahms' second symphony and Richard Strauss' Four Last Songs. My impression of these two great composers is of two men who refused to abandon a good thing while everyone else had moved on. Two giants who almost post-date their eras. Brahms carefully trod in Beethoven' footprints, his sometimes stark and sparing compositions standing in sharp contrast to the lush works of Wagner and contemporaries. And then there's Strauss who carried the torch handed off by these late Romantic German composers and pressed nearly halfway through the Twentieth Century.

I was fortunate to make it to the pre-concert lecture. While it was full of interesting facts, the nugget I wanted to share was the philosophical influences on these composers. Brahms believed firmly in the inherent beauty of music. His works are crafted to be appreciated for exactly what they are. Strauss, however, greatly influenced by Nietzsche, sided with those who explored the programmatic nature of music: Music's value can be in its depiction of something other than itself.

Certainly there are volumes written on such things, but enough with the abstract. The concert was full of magical moments, one of which was the french horn solo at the end of the second of Strauss' Four Last Songs. This solo happened to be played by a fellow I went to college with who now plays in a major symphony orchestra...He obviously has done more with his instrument than I!

The title of this entry is a quotation from this french horn player's father, who was the conductor of my college symphony. We were about to disband for Thanksgiving break, but were scheduled for a concert shortly after featuring Brahms' Tragic Overture. These were his last words to us, encouraging us to practice a bit over the break.