Alberic Magnard

Today is the birthday of the great, underappreciated French composer Alberic Magnard (1865-1914). A good deal of his music has been recorded--there are no fewer than four complete sets of his four symphonies--and is available through the various online music retailers. It is well worth seeking out. Magnard's music has the reputation for being somewhat "learned," as he took a highly intellectual approach to composition; he was a champion of absolute music in a time when programmatic music was all the rage.

For all that, his music isn’t as bloodless as it may seem; it seems to come out of a deep and sincere font of emotion. An astute critic in the Figaro, writing of Magnard’s Fourth Symphony, said that, despite what the composer may have expressed in his pronouncements, the music was highly dramatic, and in some ways not unlike Bruckner’s Eighth. I’m not sure if I see the comparison, but I think the point is there is more of a human, and humane, element to the music than some may want to credit.

Bon anniversaire, Magnard!

Words of Wisdom

I grokked Lucy Ellmann's review of Chuck Palahniuk's new novel:

"What the hell is going on? The country that produced Melville, Twain and James now venerates King, Crichton, Grisham, Sebold and Palahniuk. Their subjects? Porn, crime, pop culture and an endless parade of out-of-body experiences. Their methods? Cliché, caricature and proto-Christian morality. Props? Corn chips, corpses, crucifixes. The agenda? Deceit: a dishonest throwing of the reader to the wolves. And the result? Readymade Hollywood scripts."

Well said, although, as she knows, Melville and James, at least, were not much "venerated" in their day. Still, the sentiment creates sympathetic vibrations chez moi.