Classic Examples

How does someone get interested in classical music?

In my case, the music was in the air--literally. The radio provided lots of it. Even television, in the early years, used classical music frequently for the themes of weekly programs.

But there was a lot of other good music on radio, too, and I responded to it. The first record I ever bought was a 78 rpm of the Weavers singing “Lonesome Cowboy.” I was 9. I loved the Weavers. Who didn’t? Who wouldn’t?

Only slowly did music begin to sort itself into categories--stuff that interested me and stuff that didn’t. More and more, it was classical music that did.

The first classical records I bought, when I was 13, were 45 rpm recordings of Ravel’s “Bolero,” Handel’s “Hallelujah!” Chorus and Tchaikovsky’s “1812” Overture, a third of it cut to fit the 45’s limited playing time of nine minutes.

Soon followed 45 rpm collections of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony and Berlioz’s “Symphonie fantastique” (lots of flipping sides), as well as a single disc of the Overture to Mozart’s “Cosi fan tutte.” (The long-playing record was still years away.)

It wasn’t a bad start. I was reacting to powerful rhythms and brilliant orchestral colors, simple, easily understood musical forms and not-so-simple themes. And even then I could recognize music’s higher power.

Yes, I was absorbing unconsciously how music works, and it was all good for me, but basically all I was really doing was choosing music that pleased, excited or inspired me.

Those are the same qualities I react to today.

So if it worked for me, I think it can work for anyone. Here’s a suggested classical-music Christmas starter-kit list. Don’t worry about which recordings to get. Most of them are foolproof. I will, however, try to steer you away from some dull ones.

* Ravel’s “Bolero.”

Yes, “Bolero,” the mind-numbingly repetitive dance solo composed for Ida Rubenstein in 1928 and featured in Blade Edwards’ 1979 movie “10,” although it hardly needed that exposure to help its popularity.

When you think you’re way beyond this piece, go back to hear it again. Try writing out the basic rhythm and the two themes in any shorthand you want, whether you read music or not. The themes are longer than you thought, aren’t they? Next, try to identify each instrument or combination of instruments as the music plays. Now do you feel so superior?

* The “Hallelujah!” Chorus from Handel’s “Messiah.”

You’re going to hear this piece forever, at every Christmas and Easter, and if you have to stand up for it, as audiences traditionally do, you might as well get used to it. Which won’t be hard. It really is remarkable music, of great and authentic power.

But stay away from “authentic performance” versions. These collect 15 or fewer feeble singers and about as many scrawny instruments and pace them at a breakneck tempo so that the words don’t mean anything.

They say Handel wanted it this way. Pshaw!

You don’t have to go to the 150-voice-choir opposite extreme, but there are plenty of recordings by people who sound as if they believe what they’re singing. Get one of those.

* “Nutcracker” Suite.

Every year, I review at least one complete “Nutcracker” ballet--this year I’ll do three--and every year someone asks me, “Aren’t you sick of it by now?” No. Not of one measure. Well, maybe some of the “Grandfather’s Dance,” which spins out longer than it has to. But otherwise, no. The scoring is magical, and the melodies and rhythms are wonderful and stay wonderful over the years.

The Suite consists of only some of the full score but provides enough variety to create and sustain interest. The “Grandfather’s Dance” is not part of the Suite.

* Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor.

The great C minor was written as Beethoven realized his deafness was growing worse and would probably be incurable. He struggles with this cruel fate and triumphs over it.

After this, listen to Schubert’s Symphony No. 8 (“Unfinished”) to experience a different kind of fateful struggle and a different kind of resolution.

* Beethoven’s “Leonore” Overture No. 3.

I’ll skip the explanation about why it’s called “No. 3.” You’ll find that explained in the liner notes. This is the most forceful moral music ever written. It may be the greatest short piece of music ever written. So stay away from any “authentic practice” performance that reduces to comfortable limits this titanic sound-scape of good triumphing over evil.

* Orchestral excerpts from Wagner’s “Der Ring des Nibelungen.”

Until the advent of long-playing records, at-home listeners had to rely on singer-less orchestral excerpts to sample Wagner’s mighty music dramas. Even after the LP, some people preferred these versions because they could hear the brilliant orchestrations and volcanic emotions more directly. They’re still a good introduction to Wagner.

* Rossini Overtures.

These are pure fun. Rossini may not have invented the exciting, irrepressible, drawn-out crescendo, but he certainly perfected it. You can feel and share his enjoyment, and you can count absolutely on one thing: Every time Rossini finishes one of those tremendous crescendos, he’ll go right back to the beginning and do it all over again. You’ve got to smile.

* Mozart’s “Ave, Verum Corpus.”

When I bought the 45 rpm recording of the “Hallelujah!” Chorus, I found Mozart’s “Ave, Verum Corpus” on the other side. As a teenager, I considered Mozart a pretty and decorative composer but not anyone terribly important, especially compared with the mighty Beethoven. So I didn’t pay much attention to this piece--actually, a motet--composed in the final year of Mozart’s life.

Fortunately, I got older. So buy this and listen to it periodically over the years. If it doesn’t hit you early, it will hit you late. At some point, you will discover the depths and heights in Mozart that you never heard before. But they always were there, and so this will measure how much you’ve changed. And you will fumble for a word adequate to describe “Ave, Verum Corpus”: radiant, sublime. They’re just not good enough.