Monday, January 15, 2018

Mendelssohn's Incidental Music - A MidSummer Night's Dream

There is some music that transports me right into my head.  As if the composer knew my mind, completely unraveled before him and decided to write a portion of what he experienced.  Mendelssohn was one, Chopin another, and Enya might very well have property somewhere inside my mind.

Specific pieces though, speak to me. And oddly, most often it is not the mainstream love that so many others have.  I have spent a portion of this evening digging through my memories, attempting to find these inspired pieces on Spotify.  It is not as easy as it looks.  Do you know exactly how many nocturnes Chopin has? And how many in whichever key signature? Still, you discover new music when you do and that can be quite fun in itself.

I'm a sucker for many different kinds of music. I may have mentioned this in a previous post a fair few years ago.  Give me Imagine Dragons and Coldplay, then later douse me with Chopin, Debussy, and don't forget Vivaldi.  Then later, a night cap of Frankie Valli and mix a bit of Sam Cooke in there and we have a night of some of the best music.

Oh, music is like the auditory story sans words.  And when there are words, I feel the emotion, the story behind the words being used.  Oh, the adventures I have listening to music.  Spotify is my own musical library and it is my secondary love.

I'm sure in another life I would've been a bard or an ancient storyteller.  Imagine being the first to tell the story of Beowulf! Being in that captivated audience! And oftentimes stories of that age were sung, not simply spoken.  Then someone had a novel idea! To write it down! So be sure, dear fellows, that music and books were borne of the same dream.  And it is quite true that most often, I am unable to write without some inspiring music playing in the background.

The music sets my stage.  The perfect music is important to emote what I need, to allow for a smoother voyage into my mind.  And then I am poised, baton raised, instruments up, just waiting for the down beat and count to begin my opus.

There is a reason that the derivative of music is the word muse.  It is one of mine.  And I never explore a new world of mine without it.

Goodnight, weary world.  My candle burns bright and long this night.

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