Classical Music and Nature

The magic of Classical Music permeates my days and nights. Yet there is an ongoing competition between this man-made music that I love and the sights and sounds of Nature itself. Can I listen to both at the same time? Perhaps, but it's not too practical. So I time share. Wood thrush in the background singing their surreal song lilting across the valley and sweetly to my ears, puts a pause on my pursuit of music, but when I relent, I'll let the radio and the birds compete at the same volume, and perceive whatever synchronicity, lacking or perceived, that might arise between the two.

Classical Music and Nature share the beauty of a fresh morning. The sun is just rising. There is dew in the grass. Deer graze languidly on the edge of the woods. Birds sing their sonorous songs splendidly spreading cheer. Walking the dog lets me enjoy these treats before the heat of the day eclipses. When I'm not in nature I prefer the companionship of classical, like in my car, or at the office. Yet they are never mutually exclusive.

Just this morning, while walking my greyhound Faye, I hear Hooded Warbler, Ovenbird, Wood Thrush, Red-eyed Video, Great-crested Flycatcher, Baltimore Oriole, Redstart, Crow, Rufous-sided Towhee, American Robin, Pileated Woodpecker, Cardinal, Phoebe, Scarlet Tanager and hawk or owl nearby because the robins are chipping like crazy. I'm certain that composers have used bird songs as an inspiration for their music. Beethoven comes to mind with his 6th Symphony, Pastoral. And this...

So all this leads up to

the recent performance at Heinz Hall, I was there on June 15. Manfred Honeck conducted the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, Mendelssohn Choir and Pittsburgh Youth Chorus. The program included Beethoven's Piano Concerto Number 5 with Emanuel Ax as soloist and Berlioz' Te Deum. Both selections were grand, both were thrilling, and both were well worth listening to.

But it was the Beethoven that I most like to identify with aspects that I find relate to nature. Once you embrace nature and use it as a preeminent back stop to everything grand and graceful, you can help finding parallels between paradigms. Comparing them is fun and stimulating. For instance, the concerto itself starts out grand, relaxes to a subtle peaceful pace in the second movement, then typically returns to the grand bravado at the conclusion.

Beethoven does this best, as is heard in his 5th concerto, nick-named Emperor. And the birds of nature do this as well. They sing loud and briskly in the wee hours of the morning, then calmly and infrequently during the heat of the day, culminating with a roundly exciting conclusion to their day before twilight and when there will be no more daylight. Only the owls persist with some hooting beyond that. Both the music and the songs deserve my applause.