Linda Brava

In April 2010, classical music aficionados in San Francisco were treated to a surprise. Before an audience of hundreds, a beaming pianist ceased his master performance of Flight of the Bumblebees on the piano—and seamlessly continued his performance on the iPad instead. As the pianist devilishly tapped the conductor’s shoulder mid-flight, the audience hushed a bit to watch. The conductor gamely turned and tapped out a guest measure on the computer, and the crowd could barely suppress peals of delighted laughter.

This mischievous virtuoso was Lang Lang, the world-class pianist and showman from Hong Kong. For years Lang Lang has been making waves in the world of classical music both for his magnificent skills and his colorful, crowd-pleasing demeanor. His iPad stunt captured him a new audience of millions as the video rippled across the internet.

Even the origins of his piano career are steeped in his sense of fun and flair for physical humor. Lang Lang proudly admitted that his interests in the piano and classical music were borne out of an early experience watching Tom and Jerry cartoons. Their escalating mayhem set against a backdrop of “Dueling Pianos” struck young Lang Lang’s sense of humor as well as his developing aesthetic.

The life of a young talent is often painted as a meteoric and almost perfunctory rise to fame. Lang Lang confesses that his own was a bit of a struggle. He was expelled by a master tutor at age 9, and contemplated giving up the piano entirely. A sympathetic schoolteacher attempted to cheer him up by suggesting that he play along with Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 10 in C Major, just for fun. The ploy worked, and Lang Lang remembered his love of music.

His enthusiastic, bombastic style is such an integral part of his oeuvre that he’s earned the name “Bang Bang” among his detractors. His fans, however, believe that this is part of his appeal. He has played at Carnegie Hall and at the Nobel Prize Ceremony. But thanks to his larger-than-life style and his iPad, Lang Lang brought his love of music to millions.

The second of five children, Clara Josephine Wieck was born in Leipzig, Germany, September 13, 1819 to Marianne Tromlitz, a soprano, and Friedrich Wieck, a respected music teacher and owner of a piano manufacturing firm. Clara was an unusual child. She could barely talk, and at first, her parents thought she was a deaf mute. She didn’t begin speaking normally until age 8. Like so many other musical geniuses, she may have suffered from a form of highly-functional autism. However odd her beginnings, she was brilliant, and by age 11, was on her way to becoming a world-class pianist and composer.

One of her father’s students was a frequent childhood playmate of Clara’s, and would dress himself like a ghost and jump out from the shadows to scare her. Later in life, she married him. His name was Robert Schumann.

Clara was extremely nervous before a concert, and was rarely satisfied with her own performances. Chopin once said, “she’s the only woman in Germany who can play my music,” and claimed he composed with her in mind. She composed over 23 piano works. Her fame exceeded that of her husband, whose own compositions were considered “weird” all over Europe. Clara was dubbed the “Queen of the Piano,” whereas her husband was referred to as “Clara Weick’s Husband.” Perhaps this contributed to his moods and breakdowns. She tended him until he died in an asylum in 1856.

In addition to her music, she handled all her own business and concert details, managed 3 households, and took care of her 8 children. “I once thought I possessed a creative talent,” she once wrote, “but have given up that idea; a woman must not desire to be a composer, no one has done it, and why should I expect to?”

She resumed her concerts after her husband’s death. Clara had a loont life and a 60-year career, longer than any of her male contemporaries. Her friends included Franz Liszt, Richard Wagner, and Feliz Mendelssohn, and her best friend, Johannes Brahms. She pioneered the world of music for all women.

Instruments that Time Forgot: The Serpent and the Ophicleide

Classical music is timeless, but the instruments on an orchestra’s roster are not. Just as the sounds of Mozart’s harpsichord are considered an anachronistic novelty in today’s classical music performance, music history is full of instruments that enjoyed their heyday only to be eclipsed by a newer sound.

So that they will not be relegated solely to museums and the expensive neighborhoods of eBay, here is a profile of two obsolete contrabass wind instruments. Currently, the tuba has a monopoly on their spots in an orchestral lineup.

The Serpent

This Renaissance instrument looks like a simple horn with finger holes. Its chassis traces out a boustrophedonic path to a dramatic circular loop, terminating with the bell. Although the serpent is traditionally made of walnut and leather, it is considered a brass instrument; it has a bell-shaped mouthpiece like a trumpet. Though it originated as a vertical instrument, it evolved to be held horizontally like an elephantine flute.

Playing the serpent is a bit problematic. There is no set fingering strategy, and the note-holes themselves are generally nothing more than lacunae in the instrument’s body, like an elegant artisan Flute-O-Phone.

As more elaborate keyed instruments became de riguer in brass ensembles and orchestras of the early 1800’s, the serpent was replaced. However, it lived on in the hearts of aficionados; artisans produce modern serpents, and the serpent’s very first concerto was performed under the direction of John Williams in 1989.

The Ophicleide

Its ancestor was the serpent. Its nearest relatives are the enigmatic keyed bugles. Its stately verticality evokes a saxophone crossed with the noblest and most refined of hairpins. It’s the ophicleide, a brass instrument that was an orchestral standard of the Romantic era.

Though the ophicleide is keyed, it has a confounding fingering system as well. It isn’t clear whether this fingering system is the reason that the ophicleide never experienced the resurgence of the serpent. There are no modern ophicleides to be found. Since its position was usurped by the modern tuba, there are only four known to exist.

It has been written of Frederic Chopin that even as a child, he possessed an other-worldly emotional sensitivity to music, so much so that he wept with pleasure when his musical family would play.

He shared a real closeness with his three sisters. His first piano teacher was his older sister Louisa. At age 14, he and his sister started the Literary Amusement Association, a news chronicle of funny stories, actually taken from the pages of Chopin’s own diary.

Robert Schumann, an older composer, called him a genius. Chopin’s sense of humor was evident, even from an early age. As a practical joke, he’d lull audiences to sleep with soft playing, then startle them away with a loud chord.

He was French born, but fiercely loyal to Poland, where he spent his boyhood. When he left Poland at age 20, it is said that he took a silver cup of Polish dirt along with him. Many of the musical compositions he went on to write – the waltzes, mazurkas, polonaises were recreations of his memories of his boyhood in Poland.

He was described as pale, handsome and slight build, less than 100 lbs. He had a prominent nose and a kindly smile, and always displayed impeccable etiquette. He was also remembered to be overly sensitive, temperamental, and unreliable. His quirks suggest he may have suffered from a compulsive disorder. For example, he couldn’t sleep unless his slippers were arranged just so in front of his bed. The smell of tobacco made him deathly ill, and he didn’t drink wine or coffee because of his delicate constitution. He had an unnatural fear of being buried alive, and on his deathbed, requested he be cut open before burial.

Chopin’s creative ideas came to him quickly. He’d lock himself in his room for days on end, sleep-deprived, pacing madly and distroying pens. He kept a piano in his bedroom.

His genius was a divine madness, and for his unrivaled talent, Chopin is still beloved. He died of tuberculosis at the age of 39. Not a day goes by without someone leaving fresh flowers on his grave.

It’s not just librarians who buy reference books. A lot of people have them in their homes. Some of them are purchased because they complete collections or because they offer the person buying them valuable information for a particular field of study. Many of them are also bought because they are enjoyable to read and because they’re part of a hobby or an area of interest for a particular person. If you like buying reference books, one thing you’ve probably noticed is that they can be expensive. If you’re on a tight budget, it’s easy to throw your whole budget out the window by buying just one reference book.

There are ways to feed your book habit without breaking the bank, though. One of those ways is to carefully budget for a set amount each month that you can spend on books. Another way is to get a prepaid card. If there isn’t enough on it to buy the book you want, you simply can’t get it until there’s more money available or the book comes down in price. No matter how you decide to budget for reference books, it’s very important that you do something so that you aren’t just spending whenever you feel like it.

Unless you’re rich, spending without consequences isn’t very realistic. Even if you need the reference books for schooling or continuing education once you’re working in the real world, you still have to plan for them and buy them as you can afford to. If you check with libraries and used book stores, you might be able to find something great at a really low price. The same is true for yard sales and estate sales. You just never know where a reference book might turn up. If you plan ahead, you’ll be able to buy a great book at a great price when you come across it.

The most significant notes ever written were quite possibly the first four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony – three short beats followed by one long. Some say they represented the heavy hand of Fate knocking on one’s door.

There’s no doubt that German born composer Ludwig van Beethoven suffered deeply for his art, and those around him suffered, too. He was known to be short-tempered, poorly groomed, and ill mannered. He talked to himself, he didn’t bathe, and he let his hair grow long and wild during a time when meticulous pigtails were the style for men’s hair.

The year his father began teaching him to play piano, Ludwig was so small he was unable to reach the keys. Johann was a tenor, and supplemented his income giving voice and violin lessons. Neighbors recall Ludwig crying at the piano, standing on the bench to better reach the keys. Johann was an abuser who rapped his knuckles and whipped him whenever he made mistakes. Some speculate it may have been a severe boxing blow to the ears that started Ludwig on the gradual road to his deafness. An autopsy showed a distended inner ear. Hair samples reveal toxic levels of lead, which may have played a role. We do know that he suffered from a severe form of tinnitus, a ringing of the ear, which made conversation difficult, and impaired his ability to perceive and appreciate music. His condition may explain why his later works were so heavy handed – it was the only way he could hear his own music.

Beethoven couldn’t hear his audience, either, and after a concert, had to be physically turned to see them standing and applauding.

Several failed attempts at romance led him to celibacy. He considered himself unattractive. He was scarred from smallpox, with a large head and protruding teeth which he polished, constantly, with his napkin. He was messy, had sloppy penmanship, and he loved macaroni and cheese. He liked strong coffee and made it himself – exactly 60 beans to the cup. He was certainly a character, if not the greatest composer who ever lived.

Composer Sergei Serveyevich Prokofiev was born on April 23, 1891 in the farming village of Sontsovka in the area of the Russian Empire now known as the Ukraine. Having lost two infant daughters prior to having their son, his parents were loving and doted on him. His father was an agricultural engineer, and his mother was educated and possessed a thorough knowledge of music and the piano, which proved invaluable to Sergei, whose passion to compose began at age 8 after seeing Tchaikovsky’s “The Sleeping Beauty”.

As a youngster Prokofiev rarely smiled and was fairly unpopular. He always said exactly what was on his mind with no social filter. In school, he kept a record of the mistakes other students made. Even he admitted he was “full of splinters”. When he played the piano, he left out the black keys because they scared him. As late as his 20’s he wrote “white” music to be played entirely on white keys.

Prokofiev is known for his concertos, operas, symphonies, film music, ballet scores, and his infamous “Peter and the Wolf”, a work for children. Critics were hard on him. His violent playing jarred audiences who said the way he attacked the keys made them think of somebody uprooting trees. They made fun of his long, dangly arms and huge hands, which seemed to always move as if playing an invisible keyboard.

He married twice, once to Lina Llubera, a Spanish singer, with whom he had two sons. He later married Myra Mendelson, a Russian Writer.

He loved to play chess, always wore a tie and coat to breakfast, and was a chain smoker.

He was hard working, and could work 14 hours a day, stopping only to eat and scold his children for making noise. He didn’t get along with neighbors, and was once evicted when one complained he’d repeated the same chord on the piano – 218 times in a row.

When he died of a stroke at age sixty, his death went unreported for a week because Joseph Stalin had died on the same day.

Winning a slot into a college requires a good score on the SAT (formerly known as the Scholastic Aptitude Test or Scholastic Assessment Test). Offered seven times a year, the test scores are a requirement for most accredited colleges and universities during their application process. The other half of the admission process is either graduation from high school or a passing score on the General Education Development (GED) test.

If you plan on succeeding in college, passing the SAT with confidence is a great place to begin. And how do you get that confidence? By enrolling in a good SAT prep course. It is not by chance that people who practice at test-taking tend to do better than those who “wing it.”

Researching and finding the best SAT prep course you can afford is a great way to begin building confidence about your test-taking skills. If you don’t practice taking the SAT, you will probably feel overwhelmed, unprepared, and uncertain during the test. Most skills in life require practice. Only someone far too busy to plan ahead would walk onto a football field suited up for a game without getting into condition or going through training!

Taking the SAT is much the same. The more practice you can get in before the test, the more prepared and confident you will feel. Learn the ins and outs and the pros and cons of the test, and understand why the test is structured the way it is. Know that by enrolling in an SAT prep course you are increasing your chances of scoring well, you are honing your knowledge and test skills, and you are laying the foundation for a great future at a college or university.

When French soldiers invaded the small Italian village of Le Roncole in 1813, Luigia Verdi snatched her baby and ran up the steps to the bell tower of the town’s church to hide. It was a smart move, and the right one. The soldiers killed everyone in the church but Luigia and her infant son, Giuseppe. She couldn’t have known that her baby would become one of the most celebrated Italian opera composers in the world, or that in rescuing him, she’d be rescuing opera itself.

Years later, Giuseppe served as an altar boy in that same church. Upon first hearing the church organ play, he was so awestruck that he didn’t hear the priest, who lost his temper and pushed the 8 year old down the stairs. When Giuseppe came to, he begged his parents to let him take music lessons. By age 13, he was the assistant conductor of the Basseto orchestra.

The love of his life was his childhood sweetheart, Margherita, whom he married, and they had two children. While writing his second opera, “Un Giomo Di Regno”, an illness befell his wife, son, and daughter. Within a period of weeks, he lost all three. Intended to be a comedy, Un Giomo Di Regno was anything but lighthearted. Every scene was infused with Verdi’s sadness and earned the hissing disapproval of the crowd. Not until his third opera, Nabucco, did he receive the roar of approval, so loud that at first, Verdi thought they were booing him.

He’s most renown for later operas, such as Aida and La Traviata. With his ensuing wealth, he bought a farm in the country where he cultivated vegetables, raised livestock, and planted a tree upon completion of every opera.

Verdi led a simple life. He awoke at five, walked his estate or sailed across his lake. He loved poetry, history, and Shakespeare, and he went to bed early. He served for a time as a senator and married a second time to a soprano named Giuseppina. They never had children. He lived to the ripe old age of 87.

Pulitzer Prize winning composer Charles Ives was born in Danbury, Connecticut October 20, 1874. So bonded was he with his hometown that he refused to visit there, later, because he couldn’t bear to witness the changes that had taken place.

Ives worshipped his father George, a U.S. Army bandleader in the American Civil War. His father broadened Charles’ young ear by exposing him to a variety of unusual sounds. By age five, Charles was learning piano, cornet, and violin, and later the drums. Neighbors complained. At thirteen, he was the youngest church organist in Connecticut. On Saturdays, he played piano in bars.

Except for the money he earned playing the church organ, Ives never earned a dime composing music. Instead, he earned his living as a New York businessman running a highly successful insurance company. Those he worked with were unaware of his secret life: dashing home to write the music that would re-create the unique sounds of his soulful Yankee childhood.

Ives had a photographic memory of everything he’d ever written – some ten drawers full – all manuscripts he stored in his barn. He wrote his music in pencil with a shaky hand, so most of his charts were barely legible.

He suffered several heart attacks in his life, the first at age 32. From that time, he lived a reclusive existence. He retired from his insurance business, and lived a secluded life with his wife, Harmony Twitchell.

He didn’t own a radio, or a record player. He rarely used his phone, and he shouted at airplanes because he hated the noise. He liked wearing old soft shirts, a battered felt hat, and a worn corduroy jacket. He was a wild driver, and drove a Ford Model T. His hobby was writing the president to suggest amendments to the constitution.

Ives loved iced tea and roast pork. He was diabetic, and not supposed to eat sweets, but he did, anyway. He was ordered to drink milk, which he tossed into the yard when he thought no one was looking. His heart sustained him to age 79, remarkable for a man of his fragile health.