Day 2

So if one step begins the journey of 10,000 steps, step number two means you either didn't get lost after step one, or you don't care if you did.

Before getting to the piece, I would like to apologize to one Miss Wasmund, who, pointed out my improper use of the American English Language. I will, of course, go on Fox News and receive 20 lashes with the cat of nine tails from Sean Hannity for this offense. This brings up another apology, to all who may read this blog and have a love of the English language; I'm sorry, my grammar is awful, I do music, not words. Anyway...

My listening piece for today is again Wagner's Das Rheingold, the third and fourth parts; also directed by Wilhelm Furtwangler, also performed in 1950 at La SCALA in Milan. Really, I shouldn't need to write this, since it was recorded literally the same night as parts one and two that I listened to yesterday. But I figured since it's obvious I don't like reading (notice a listening project) maybe some of you out there on teh interwebs don't either.

If parts one and two were about the strings, parts three and four were about the brass. Wagner unapologetically uses trumpets, baritones, trombones and all other forms of metal where you can weld on a mouth piece, to create the tension and anger. And from what I can tell, there might be a lot of it? The entire third part (first side) only has male baritones and tenors, which when they're belting out German over pounding timpani...well let's just say I hid behind the couch at one point.

The second side brings about a fuller, more symphonic sound, with the strings being welcomed back into the party. This, along with an amazing entrance by an Contralto (possibly Erda, played by Margret Weth-Falke), who after 40 minutes of listening to only men, brings a more subtle (but no less powerful) feel to the piece. Being that this is the end of the opera, Wagner spends the final 20 minutes swelling the accompaniment back and forth, much like an ocean bounding against a levee. At the end, the swells just breaks over, spilling sonic water on the listners, but leaving the levee intact. Wagner plays with tonality, rhythm, often butting up against the wall that Stravinsky would burst through three decades later.