Listening to so much music at Sunday’s chamber music festival reminded me of one of my earlier Red Room blogs. Enjoy!
Leaning forward in my aisle seat at the University Baroque Ensemble, I skimmed over my program, listening as the students performed works by Handel, Telemann, and Johann Sebastian Bach. I noted one familiar piece on the program. A second later, it flew out of my head.
Having grown up tuned into Robert J. Lurtsema’s
“Morning Pro Musica,” surrounded by classical music
recordings and early music festivals, while studying
classical piano and guitar, and graduating from a college that also had a conservatory, where I crammed in as many free classical concerts as I could, I know about classical music.
Or like to think I do.
I am not as astute as my dad, who, upon tuning into a piece on the radio, could name the composer nearly all the time. Nor am I as smart as my mother, who can do that most of the time. Nor can I, like my Non-Marital Spouse, identify exact time periods for Baroque, Classical, and Romantic—I tend to lump them all together. But I do know the difference between classical (all lumped together) and something more modern.
After the University Consort of Viols ended, and the applause died down, the host introduced the next piece, saying something about a Canon in D Major. I then thought he said, “The piece can be attributed to Taco Bell.”
Taco Bell! I moseyed out of my musical musings. So not the something more modern I had in mind. What did Taco Bell have to do with the Baroque Period? Why was he talking about Taco Bell? I tried to figure out what fast food had to do with Baroque music.
My thoughts came up empty, so I reread the program notes:
“Canon in D for 3 violins, in D Major…attributed to Johann Pachelbel.”
Not Taco Bell.
The piece I had recognized had been Pachelbel’s Canon.
I’ll have that to go, please.