As I reported in this space nearly one month ago, my favorite oldies radio station bit the dust. So, at night, I'm now obligated to find replacement music to fall asleep by. Frustrated by a lack of favored music anywhere on the radio dial that can be received here in the backwoods, I've turned to my rather eclectic cd collection.
Said collection features several different styles of music: Celtic, Rock, Musical Comedy, Swing, Pop and, one genre I have neglected for some time, Classical. For the last two nights, I've fallen asleep to Rachmaninoff. In the coming weeks, I'll switch off to Strauss, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn, Grieg, Holst or Handel.
I've been a fan of classical music since I was a wee lad. My mother was also a big fan (my dad was definitely NOT) and we shared this love together for many years. Of course, most of my contemporaries in elementary, junior high and high school considered this fascination with classical music as just another example of how patently weird I was!
Yes, it might have been weird during the days of The Beatles and the Rolling Stones, but it did serve me well during one particular moment in college.
Like most of my fellow underclassmen, I had to choose to take one of two appreciation classes as part of my general requirements. Since art has never appealed to me (nor made a scintilla of sense to me), I chose Music Appreciation.
It was very obvious from Day One that the instructor was irritated that he had to teach this class AND that he thought all of his students were imbeciles. His tone always was paternalistic and condescending times ten. He was also one of these blokes who is overly formal; when he called on a student, it was always Mister Jones or Miss Fairchild (with his emphasis placed on the mister or miss).
On the third or fourth day of class, he decided it was high time to put all of us young hellions in our places. He strode to the front of the room and placed a record on the phonograph. "Listen," he commanded.
After listening for about 5 - 10 minutes, he asked if anyone could identify the piece just played. He randomly called on a few people who, of course, didn't have the foggiest of notions. Each incorrect answer -- that is, if the person even ventured a guess -- led to higher ridicule of our obvious ignorance.
Finally, he asked if anyone would like to offer an answer. I raised my hand. Since I already had a reputation as a class clown, he seemed to debate whether or not even to acknowledge me. However, I think he decided to call on me because he thought he could really embarrass me to no end. "Well, it looks like Mister Smith would like to inject some levity into our serious discussion. So Mister Smith, would you like to offer an answer?"
Without hesitation I replied, "I believe we just heard the third movement -- On the Trail -- of the Grand Canyon Suite". He began to tell me what an idiotic response that was until he realized that this was indeed the correct answer. A bit flummoxed, he was only able to stammer out, "And who composed the Grand Canyon Suite?" "Grofé," I responded.
Well, let me tell you, THIS impressed my classmates to no end. I had put our pompous-assed prof in his place. It did not, however, impress Dr. Condescension! He took it as a challenge.
"Oh, you think you're so smart. Well, let see if you know this one!" he boomed. Another record was placed on the spindle and we were provided with a 3 or 4 minute snippet. "Alright, Mister Smarty Pants, would you like to enlighten the class with your answer for this one?"
"You just played the second movement of the William Tell Overture by Rossini" was my smug and correct reply.
The only response this time was muttering and grumbling. Determined to get the better of me, he forcefully shoved a third record down the spindle. Without even making comment, he played only about 30 seconds of a snippet.
Before he even had time to ask the question, I blurted out, "Third Movement of Dvořák's New World Symphony, No. 9 in E Minor, Opus 95." He just looked at me with a slack jaw. He never called on me one time for the rest of the semester!
I'll be the first to admit that I know a bit about classical music, but certainly not as much as it appeared I knew on that seminal day. It just so happened that he picked three different pieces that I knew, particularly The New World Symphony which is among my all-time favorites. Had he chosen something by a lesser-known composer or a lesser-known work of a major composer, he would have easily succeeded in making me look like a moron.
Fortunately for me though, he picked those three items and, for one day, it was HE who looked like a pompous idiot, not me.
Said collection features several different styles of music: Celtic, Rock, Musical Comedy, Swing, Pop and, one genre I have neglected for some time, Classical. For the last two nights, I've fallen asleep to Rachmaninoff. In the coming weeks, I'll switch off to Strauss, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn, Grieg, Holst or Handel.
I've been a fan of classical music since I was a wee lad. My mother was also a big fan (my dad was definitely NOT) and we shared this love together for many years. Of course, most of my contemporaries in elementary, junior high and high school considered this fascination with classical music as just another example of how patently weird I was!
Yes, it might have been weird during the days of The Beatles and the Rolling Stones, but it did serve me well during one particular moment in college.
Like most of my fellow underclassmen, I had to choose to take one of two appreciation classes as part of my general requirements. Since art has never appealed to me (nor made a scintilla of sense to me), I chose Music Appreciation.
It was very obvious from Day One that the instructor was irritated that he had to teach this class AND that he thought all of his students were imbeciles. His tone always was paternalistic and condescending times ten. He was also one of these blokes who is overly formal; when he called on a student, it was always Mister Jones or Miss Fairchild (with his emphasis placed on the mister or miss).
On the third or fourth day of class, he decided it was high time to put all of us young hellions in our places. He strode to the front of the room and placed a record on the phonograph. "Listen," he commanded.
After listening for about 5 - 10 minutes, he asked if anyone could identify the piece just played. He randomly called on a few people who, of course, didn't have the foggiest of notions. Each incorrect answer -- that is, if the person even ventured a guess -- led to higher ridicule of our obvious ignorance.
Finally, he asked if anyone would like to offer an answer. I raised my hand. Since I already had a reputation as a class clown, he seemed to debate whether or not even to acknowledge me. However, I think he decided to call on me because he thought he could really embarrass me to no end. "Well, it looks like Mister Smith would like to inject some levity into our serious discussion. So Mister Smith, would you like to offer an answer?"
Without hesitation I replied, "I believe we just heard the third movement -- On the Trail -- of the Grand Canyon Suite". He began to tell me what an idiotic response that was until he realized that this was indeed the correct answer. A bit flummoxed, he was only able to stammer out, "And who composed the Grand Canyon Suite?" "Grofé," I responded.
Well, let me tell you, THIS impressed my classmates to no end. I had put our pompous-assed prof in his place. It did not, however, impress Dr. Condescension! He took it as a challenge.
"Oh, you think you're so smart. Well, let see if you know this one!" he boomed. Another record was placed on the spindle and we were provided with a 3 or 4 minute snippet. "Alright, Mister Smarty Pants, would you like to enlighten the class with your answer for this one?"
"You just played the second movement of the William Tell Overture by Rossini" was my smug and correct reply.
The only response this time was muttering and grumbling. Determined to get the better of me, he forcefully shoved a third record down the spindle. Without even making comment, he played only about 30 seconds of a snippet.
Before he even had time to ask the question, I blurted out, "Third Movement of Dvořák's New World Symphony, No. 9 in E Minor, Opus 95." He just looked at me with a slack jaw. He never called on me one time for the rest of the semester!
I'll be the first to admit that I know a bit about classical music, but certainly not as much as it appeared I knew on that seminal day. It just so happened that he picked three different pieces that I knew, particularly The New World Symphony which is among my all-time favorites. Had he chosen something by a lesser-known composer or a lesser-known work of a major composer, he would have easily succeeded in making me look like a moron.
Fortunately for me though, he picked those three items and, for one day, it was HE who looked like a pompous idiot, not me.
Ahhh, sometimes life does give us these sweet little pieces of justice, does it not? :)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this vignette. Happy listening to you, RT.
LOL Oh I would have LOVED to have been in that class when that happened.
ReplyDeleteI graduated HS with 8 music credits. In grade 12 I only had to take 2 classes each simmester. My parents weren't paying attention since none of that lead anywhere. Our senior band had to become a night course so we could get funding :)
The only class in HS that seemed to do me any good was typing, I use that everday.
Tchaikovsky is my fav! I fell in love with Swan Lake after watching a really nice cartoon of it with Tchaikovsky's music.