The thrill of the new: No.6

It's about time one of these posts was devoted to classical music.

I don't see classical music as either inferior or superior to popular music, they're just different from each other. A lot of it is about timespans, really. We don't often take into account that not only were some of the famous classical composers of today not well known in their lifetime (although some were), there are also people who were superstars in their own time who have become little more than a footnote in musical history.

The main reason being, they wrote things that were designed to be popular hits - light, catchy (although drumbeats weren't a big thing back then) and easy to grasp. Bubblegum classical.

Listen to it now, though, and it seems dated - which it is. The things that have lasted are the things that had real substance and meaning, and were passed down from one generation to another because the next generation could understand why the first generation listened to that music in the first place. Often it was the music that grabbed the attention of the next generation of composers - Bach, for instance, was publicly 'rediscovered' around 80 years after he died thanks to Mendelssohn performing his work. But it's worth knowing that many of the greatest names of the years in between, like Mozart and Beethoven, admired Bach even though the rest of the world had forgotten him.

I suspect that the history of pop music will look very different in a century or two. I'd love to be around to see who was remembered, and compare that to their album sales.

The point of the above is to help explain the different attraction and rewards of classical music. When I listen to it, I'm searching for a deep sense of satisfaction. I want subtlety and complexity. I want music that I can keep exploring for years and years, and keep coming up with new reactions and emotions.

Actually, I want all those things from the best popular music as well, but I expect more of it from classical. Partly it's because there's a greater range of forms - I actually don't listen to classical songs very much at all, because I already have so many songs in the popular reportoire, but classical music offers me solo instrumental works, and chamber music, and full-scale orchestral pieces, and in each of these there can be everything from light dances to 'program' music with extra-musical associations to 'absolute' music with the intellectual rigour of a mathematical proof.

It's often the really serious stuff that pushes my buttons in ways that popular music usually can't. One of the factors is the sheer scope and scale of the music. If it takes 15 or 20 minutes to create a gigantic musical structure, a classical composer isn't afraid to do it. They didn't have executives hanging over their shoulders asking for the 'radio edit' (although the main contemporary criticism of Beethoven's 3rd symphony was that it was too long!).

Exploring NEW classical music, then, can be an extraordinary journey. Exploring an entirely new composer - well, that's extra special.

Let me introduce you to Vagn Holmboe.

Never heard of him? I'm hardly surprised. I probably never would have if not for the fact that I have the Penguin Guide to classical CDs. And I kept hearing about him because I bought a new edition every couple of years.

The reviews kept sitting there, saying how good he was. Saying here was a 20th century composer who really knew how to write. Saying how terrible it was that the world had assumed that good 'classical' music had stopped in the early 20th century when some of those god-awful experiments with really harsh, noisy styles had kicked in, and the audience no longer had something they could hum.

Actually, they probably didn't say all of that - the reviews for individual CDs are pretty short because there are so many to fit in the book. But that's the sense I got. As my classical collection grew and I came to know more about my tastes, it became reasonably clear that Holmboe was likely to be 'my kind of guy'. The things I saw written about him were the same characteristics used to describe other, better-known composers I tried and liked. Like Shostakovich (the solid stuff, anyway)? You'll probably like Holmboe. Like Sibelius? You'll probably like Holmboe.

[Never heard of Shostakovich or Sibelius? Start with them maybe. ;-) ]

Holmboe CDs aren't going to just pop up in your local music shop though. You have to work for them. Anything that's rare and hard to get tends to be more expensive as well.

For years, I thought about making a purchase and never did. The price issue was made more important by my habitual fondness for complete sets. Once I knew that a complete set of symphonies was available, getting only some of them just wouldn't do. Besides, it would be cheaper in the long run...

I finally took the plunge last November, when I came across the 6-CD set of symphonies on eBay from a shop in the UK that (can you believe it) didn't charge any shipping costs. It was at least $20 cheaper than any other means of getting them. Still a bit of a gamble though.

It can be hard to know with 20th century classical music how much of it is just 'gimmicks'. Striving for new effects just because they're new. Abandoning traditional forms mostly because the composers don't actually know how to write them.

Holmboe's symphonies (certainly the best ones) are the exact opposite. Nothing is done just for effect. Everything is part of the grand plan. There's a couple of quotes from him in the booklet that comes with CDs, and they make clear his beliefs about symphonies as opposed to other kinds of music. He believed, like quite a few composers before him, that you shouldn't call something a 'symphony' unless it was that 'mathematical proof' kind of music. It's all about taking musical ideas and developing them.

The truly amazing and thrilling thing about Holmboe's symphonies is that I can hear the ideas being developed. There's an extraordinary sense of line, and of logic. It's not cold though - at times it's very moving and emotionally powerful. The music dances, wheels, surges, soars.

Understanding certainly doesn't come all at once. I had an initial listen to every symphony, guided partly by the Penguin reviews and by the booklet notes as to the order I tried. I then focused on the symphonies that were most immediately appealing and got to know them better. There were 5 out of the 14 works that I 'got' to a fair degree right away, so I kept listening to those. [For the record, it's symphonies 3, 5, 6, 8 and 11. No.5 is probably the most immediately compelling and I'd highly recommend it as a 'sampler'.]

I've been gradually adding the others, one at a time, in the order of 'accessibility' that I drew up based on my first impressions. I've 'figured out' another four, and trying to add two more to the listening roster at the moment.

While other CDs have moved in and out, the Holmboe set has basically lived in my work bag for 2-3 months. There is just so MUCH to get to know. Gradually becoming familiar with the shape of a 7-minute movement, or a 10-minute movement, or even a 17-minute movement - and then fitting together two or three or four movements... and in many cases, realising that some of the musical ideas run right through all of them!

[Okay, yeah, the notes help with that sometimes, but other times I figured it out all by myself!]

As if each one of these works wasn't rich enough, there's the extra dimension that no two of them are alike. Of course, coming from the same pen there are similarities, but like Tori Amos albums [ahem, insert your own favourite in there] each one has its own distinct character. Number 5 has the same kind of rhythmic obsessiveness that has made Beethoven's 5th symphony famous. Number 6 is wintry and has an extraordinary soft and winding opening few minutes. Every movement of Number 11 changes speed mid-stream, and a syncopated stop/start rhythm keeps popping up to change the flow. Number 3's outer movements are full of the rhythms of folk music. Number 8 builds up with relentless power to a conclusion that makes me want to stand and cheer every time.

It could take me years to come to grips with all of the symphonies, and that truly is a thrill in itself. The money I spent is going to be repaid multiple times over with the countless hours of pleasure I'm going to get long after today's latest hot album is being discounted to 99 cents in a desperate attempt to clear stock.

Now, did I mention that all 20 of Holmboe's string quartets have been recorded?