The book Jorgy’s Shorts has recently been released. In our opinion, the book succeeds in its aim, but perhaps you’d like to judge for yourself. This is possible, because this preview gives you the chance to read the first short story.

1. Dark Brown Coffee

Still sleepy from the intense night, Jorgy walks into the kitchen, turns on the coffee machine, and then turns on the radio in the living room. When he returns to the kitchen, he looks into the garden and sees a stranger crouching there. What is that? He runs into the garden and asks the loudly groaning pooper what he is doing. “Well, if your dog shits in my garden, I’ll do the same in yours.” “Don’t be ridiculous, man, my dog doesn’t shit on gravel. What idiotic behavior.” “What, are you calling me crazy?” “Certainly not, I’m trying to place your work in a broader context of art movements. I’d rather not waste too many words on your behavior. Wait, I’ll get you a bag so you can clean up right away.” This makes the moaner so angry that he poops in his own pants. “Who do you think you are?” he yells. “The resident?” Jorgy asks calmly. “Should I throw it at your house?” “That’s an option,” says Jorgy as he hands the moaner a bag and some toilet paper. He walks back inside, off to get some coffee. What madness.

He drinks his cup of coffee and, while listening to the radio, sees that the moaner is cleaning up and leaving his garden after all. Partly because of the music, his thoughts return to the salon. This is what he calls the gathering of people who do not know each other in his living room. It was a good start, still a little shy with a bit of spice here and there. The participants got to know each other, just as he had intended, and had enjoyed themselves immensely. Jorgy had not ventured to hope that everyone would participate so quickly and easily.

The game is well designed, now it’s time to see it grow and find new people who want to join in. It deserves to be emulated. Jorgy is the type who likes to emphasize the positive aspects and sometimes turns a blind eye to any shortcomings. As he himself says, “hope springs eternal.” We all make mistakes; we must learn from them, not just to serve as a basis for criticism. And making mistakes is something Jorgy is good at. His enthusiasm and, above all, his expectation that everyone shares it with him have often gotten in his way. And then it’s time to cry it out, start over, and keep going, especially keep going.It is getting warmer outside, and Jorgy opts to take a short walk along the river and then across the old bridge into the city. The river water flows rapidly through the old arches, and Jorgy enjoys the sounds from the city. As he walks, he gathers inspiration for the next salon. When will he organize it, what will they work on, and how will they do it? He tries to temper his own impatience and decides not to organize anything for the time being.

There are plenty of other things that demand his attention, although this is difficult for him right now. He is now at the library, preparing a stack of newspapers to pore over. He orders a coffee and, as usual, strikes up a conversation with the coffee lady. “Yes, I’m doing well, and I enjoy working here. The coffee corner has made the library much more pleasant.” For a moment, Jorgy sits alone at the reading table and has time to go through the newspapers. As always, he is looking for that one interesting article. The harvest is meager today, and he is quickly finished.

MusikRoel music recommendation: Schubert — Trout Quintet (Forellen-Quintett)

Because the story is like the music: light-footed, conversational, full of movement and rippling flow, playful, lyrical, optimistic, and driven by motion rather than conflict, even when it reflects on darker tones, it never becomes heavy. It keeps swimming forward. Most people know the fourth movement (“Die Forelle”), which builds on variation, circular motion, repetition with change, and a feeling of life flowing on. It’s music about moving through life, not dominating it.

Jorgy is a Forellen-Quintet character, he behaves like a Schubert protagonist. Because he is: slightly naïve, curious, fundamentally optimistic, socially open, easily distracted, always moving toward the next idea, tolerant of absurdity, and forgiving of human nonsense. Even when encountering literal madness in the garden, he reacts not with rage but with calm irony, generosity, and absurd politeness. This is pure Schubert energy. The Forellen-Quintet never dramatizes conflict. It absorbs it into the flow of life. So does Jorgy.

The walk along the river is crucial, the river is the music. “The river water flows rapidly through the old arches, and Jorgy enjoys the sounds from the city.” This reflects the quintet’s constant motion, the arpeggios flowing like water, the piano lines bubbling just like the current, and the strings moving in gentle counterpoint. The Forellen-Quintet is built like a river: always moving, constantly changing, and never stopping to judge. Jorgy doesn’t stop to judge either. He moves on.

The salon is the heart of the story and will return in other short stories. The quintet and salon are chamber music: intimate, social, cooperative, conversational, and playful. Just like Jorgy’s salon, where people meet, interact, experiment, learn, and appreciate each other’s presence. Schubert wrote the Forellen-Quintet for friends, not concert halls. It is music for rooms, not stages. Jorgy is building exactly that: a living room of ideas.

Coffee appears repeatedly in this story: morning coffee, library coffee, coffee lady, café culture. This is important. The quintet is not heroic music. It is daily-life music. It belongs with: walking, thinking, conversing, working, and reflecting. Coffee becomes the modern equivalent of Schubert’s Vienna cafés, places where art and life mix naturally.

The Forellen-Quintet’s theme-and-variations movement takes a simple melody and runs it through strange, playful transformations. The pooping stranger is a grotesque variation on human behavior. It is: absurd, confrontational, ridiculous, and tragicomic. And Jorgy responds like Schubert’s music would: calm with humor and patience. The music never attacks. It flows around obstacles.

The quintet expresses a worldview: Life is strange, sometimes ridiculous, often beautiful, and always moving. So does this story. Where Jorgy: accepts chaos, continues dreaming, reflects but doesn’t freeze, keeps walking and organizing, and keeps hoping. That final line seals it: “And then it’s time to cry it out, start over, and keep going, especially keep going.” That is the Forellen-Quintet in words.

Both story and music embody optimism without blindness, movement free of aggression, reflection without paralysis, sociability without pretension, and humor without cruelty. They are works about living gently but persistently.

How Aristotle would analyze the situation

First, how does he think about the situation itself? For Aristotle, this is not a “strange anecdote” but a moral test embedded in everyday life. Ethics happens not in grand decisions but in how one responds to the unexpected, the base, and the unreasonable. The garden scene is a clash between rational order (like Jorgy’s household, property, speech) and akratic disorder (loss of self-control, impulsive retaliation) invoked by the uninvited guest’s behavior. The question is not who is right, but who acts in accordance with reason under pressure.

Second, what does he say about the stranger (the pooper)? Aristotle would see him as a textbook case of akrasia (weakness of will): while he acts from anger and imagined grievance, not from deliberation. And he has is an instrumental but false reasoning: “If your dog does X, I may do X.” He mistakes retaliation for justice, a common ethical error Aristotle warns against. Aristotle would say: This man is not evil by calculation, but morally immature, ruled by passion.

Third, how does he look at Jorgy’s behavior? He’d find him more interesting without simply praising him. He would compliment Joirgy on maintaining rational speech in the face of insult, for not escalating conflict, and trying to find a solution, not victory.

However, Aristotle would notice a subtle excess because Jorgy’s calm borders on irony rather than moral seriousness, and his aesthetic reframing (“art movements”) risks detachment from the moral weight of the act. Offering the bag is virtuous, but also slightly didactic; Jorgy instructs rather than meets the other at his level. This places Jorgy close to virtue and, guided by reason. But still learning when and how much reason to display. Aristotle would say: Jorgy possesses practical wisdom in action, but not yet in timing (kairos).

Aristotle would see continuity of character in the larger pattern (salon, hope, walking, library. Jorgy is a man of initiative and hope, valuable, but risky. And his tendency to “turn a blind eye to shortcomings” suggests a habitual leaning toward optimism beyond measure. This is not a vice yet, but it needs education by experience.

Practical wisdom is not a rule, but a trained sensitivity to situations. The river walk and postponement of action would be praised: Jorgy restrains his impulse and he allows thought to mature before action. That is phronēsis at work.

Buy the book!

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Rick Davies, co-founder, pianist, and one of the voices behind Supertramp, has passed away at 81 after a long fight with multiple myeloma. Hearing this made me sad and brought back a lot of memories.

For many of us, certain songs are the soundtrack of growing up. They hold memories of teenage hopes, fears, rules, rebellion, confusion, and longing. Davies helped create that kind of music, especially with Roger Hodgson in Supertramp. Two songs, “School” (1974) and “The Logical Song” (1979), always come to mind when I think of high school, not just the classes and exams, but the search to understand who I was, beyond what I was supposed to become.

“School”  Rules, Rebellion, and Seeking Something Beyond

The song “School,” the opening track of Crime of the Century, captures that moment in adolescence when you see both the structure and the cracks within it. (Wikipedia)

In school, I remember rushing to class in the mornings, carrying heavy backpacks, hearing the school bell, and feeling like I was being shaped, told what to believe, what to do, and how to act. But what about all the other lessons, the ones they never teach? What about creativity, intuition, and identity? “They don’t really prepare us for life in terms of teaching us who we are on the inside.” (Wikipedia)

There was a hallway in our school that always felt like a doorway between childhood and something bigger. Friends joked around, and we whispered questions to ourselves, like ‘What do I want?’ The fear of looking foolish was a lesson that mattered more than anything in a textbook. School taught me that asking questions is part of growing up.

“The Logical Song”  Identity, Labels, and the Search for Self

Five years after School, Supertramp released The Logical Song on Breakfast in America. This became one of their biggest hits. (Wikipedia)

Roger Hodgson wrote it from a deeply personal place, about being sent away to boarding school, about being taught to be “logical, responsible, clinical…” but not always shown how to be sensitive, emotional, or truly yourself. (Louder)

When I hear “The Logical Song,” I’m taken back to those moments after class, sitting under a tree or walking home, and asking myself: Who am I, outside of those labels? The smart kid, the quiet one, the one who obeys, the one who laughs too loud, which of those is really me, and which are just expectations?

That line in the song, “Please tell me who I am,” feels universal. We all carry it, especially when we’re young, trying to balance what people tell us to be with what we feel inside.

Rick Davies’ Legacy & What It Means Now

With Rick Davies gone, we haven’t just lost a musician, we’ve lost someone who gave voice to the struggle between fitting in and being yourself. He played, wrote, and sang music that made room for both structure and questions. School and The Logical Song aren’t just nostalgic; they still matter because the issues they explore, never really go away.

Reflecting on Davies, I feel grateful for the music he created with Hodgson and the rest of Supertramp, particularly the piano, harmonies, and sharp lyrics. He reminded us that what matters isn’t just what school teaches or what society expects, but what we truly believe inside.

My School Self, Now

I never expected to become a music blogger or someone who looks back at those years with both fondness and a critical eye. But here I am, listening to School again or humming The Logical Song, and realizing something important: those songs were my first teachers. They showed me that rules matter, but they can’t define who we are. Labels can help, but they can also hold us back.

Thank you, Rick Davies, for the music, the questions, and your voice. Your songs will echo far beyond classrooms and hallways, in everyone who ever wondered who they were beyond what they were taught.

Supertramp’s School and the Spirit of Prokofiev

When I think about Supertramp’s School from Crime of the Century (1974), it takes me back to my own high school days, the long hallways, the rules, the quiet questions about who I was supposed to become. It also reminds me of someone unexpected from the classical music world: Sergei Prokofiev.

At first, it might seem like a stretch. What could a Russian composer from the 20th century have in common with a British rock band from the 1970s? But if you listen closely, you start to hear the connection.

Sergei Prokofiev

• Known for sarcastic, playful, yet serious music.
• Works like Peter and the Wolf or Classical Symphony mix innocence and satire, much like Supertramp’s ironic view of school and society.
• The sharp, percussive piano style in Supertramp recalls Prokofiev’s biting piano writing.

Irony in Sound

Prokofiev’s music often has a sharp, satirical feel. His Classical Symphony sounds playful at first, but there’s something biting underneath. In the same way, School starts with a child’s harmonica and playground sounds, but soon shifts to a strong, percussive piano that hints at tension and rebellion. Both Prokofiev and Supertramp use irony, sounding playful while asking serious questions about authority and fitting in.

Structure and Rebellion

Supertramp’s School is built almost like a mini-symphony, with a slow, moody start, tight rhythms, a big climax, and a thoughtful ending. Prokofiev did something similar in his piano concertos, mixing beautiful melodies with sudden bursts of rhythm and dissonance. Both show us that while structure matters, breaking free from it can be just as powerful.

The Lesson Beneath the Lesson

School isn’t just about school. It’s about what society teaches us to be, and what it leaves out, the unspoken lessons of obedience, labels, and expectations. Prokofiev, who wrote music under Soviet rules, also understood what it was like to balance what you’re supposed to say with what you really want to express. His music often has two voices: the official and the personal.

Why This Matters

Linking School to Prokofiev isn’t just about making a comparison. It shows a timeless struggle: how do we balance the rules we’re given with our own inner voice? Whether it’s the sarcasm in Prokofiev’s symphonies or the strong piano in Supertramp, music helps us push back against being seen as just another logical, responsible, clinical person.

When I listen to School now, I don’t just hear memories from my teenage years. I also hear hints of Prokofiev, reminding me that questioning authority, using irony, and music have always been their own kind of art.

Sound. Sense. Soul.

The post How to Analyze Irony in Supertramp’s School and Prokofiev first appeared on .

Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is often seen as decorative classical music. Yet, in Vivaldi’s time, his concertos were bold, intense, and energetic as is the music from AC/DC. In 1725 Venice, The Four Seasons made a striking impression. (“The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi”, n.d.)

Vivaldi’s musical style shares key qualities with hard rock bands like AC/DC. Both create music that is driven, repetitive, virtuosic, and intense, using these traits to deliver powerful emotional impact.

Winter as Hard Rock

Of all the Four Seasons, Winter best shows these traits. Its fast sections are jagged and relentless, evoking icy winds. The strings shiver and tremble like cracking branches. In the middle, the music retreats into quiet stillness, as if sitting by a fire before the storm returns.

And that’s why it resonates so easily with AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck.” The opening guitar riff in “Thunderstruck” has the same restless energy as Vivaldi’s Winter violin. Both build tension and unleash it in powerful bursts. They evoke thunder, lightning, ice, and storms, turning raw power into music.

When Sound Becomes Force

The Vivaldi-AC/DC link goes beyond surface similarities. Both use:

• Repetition as intensity: the riff, the rhythm, the pulse.
• Contrast as drama: quiet moments that make the storms more overwhelming.
• This music is not just intellectual, it hits you physically and viscerally.

Played on gut strings or electric guitar, both show music is more than sound, it’s something you feel. It’s not “pretty” music, it’s elemental

Why is Classical music boring?

Classical music is often dismissed as “boring” because it seems tied to the conservative establishment, concert halls, polite applause, and traditions that feel frozen in time. However, this view confuses the wrapper with the gift. In their own day, works by Beethoven, Stravinsky, or Bartók were anything but safe: they shocked audiences, provoked scandals, and pushed instruments and performers to their limits. (Knocke, n.d.) Mozart’s operas, although celebrated and highly appreciated, did not receive such a welcome reception at their premieres. Perhaps you can recall this quote?

Too many notes, dear Mozart, too many notes’ is what Emperor Joseph II supposedly said after the first performance of the Entführung aus dem Serail in Vienna’s old Burgtheater. Mozart’s reply was: ‘Just as many as necessary, Your Majesty.

(McGath, 2014)

Closing Reflection

Comparing Vivaldi and AC/DC isn’t just about mixing up genres. Both strive to capture the raw forces of nature: wind, ice, thunder, and fire, proving that music can channel these elements with equal power, no matter the era.

Winter and Thunderstruck are two expressions of the same elemental force. Despite the centuries that separate them, both ignite an overwhelming sense of power; music as fierce as lightning, thunder, or ice.

In that force, we find meaning; music, unchanged in its power, becomes something we feel.

The resonance linking Vivaldi’s “Winter” and AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” lies in their thematic repetition and electrifying energy. Across centuries and genres, their music transforms raw power into an exhilarating, unified force, reminding us that music, above all, is a vital and universal experience.

The post What Makes Vivaldi and AC/DC So Alike? first appeared on .

At first, Beethoven and Schoenberg might seem like total opposites. Beethoven is known for his classical masterpieces, while Schoenberg broke new ground with atonality and the twelve-tone method. Yet, they had something important in common: both found inspiration and peace in Mödling, a quiet town just south of Vienna.

Why Mödling?

Both composers came to Mödling for the same reasons: peace, quiet, and being close to nature. Beethoven, dealing with hearing loss and the stress of city life, found space here to focus and create. A hundred years later, Schoenberg also used Mödling as a retreat, where he could work on new ideas, paint, teach, and spend time with his family.

What Beethoven Composed in Mödling

Beethoven spent several summers in Mödling between 1817 and 1819, staying in what is now the Beethovenhaus Mödling. This modest dwelling witnessed the birth of some of his most profound and complex works:

The Hammerklavier Sonata (Op. 106)

Beethoven wrote this piano sonata during his first stay in Mödling. Many consider it one of the hardest pieces to play. It belongs to his late period, when his music became more thoughtful and daring. The calm of Mödling gave him the space to work through its challenges.

Missa Solemnis (Op. 123)

Beethoven started this spiritual piece while walking the trails in Mödling. He finished it later, but many of his first ideas came from his time here, showing how he searched for meaning through music.

Diabelli Variations (Op. 120)

This piece started as a small part of a publishing project but grew into a major work exploring musical variation. Beethoven wrote the first drafts in Mödling.

Ludwig van Beethoven’s Residence in Mödling

• Address: Hauptstraße 79, 2340 Mödling, Austria
• Name of House: Beethovenhaus Mödling
• Period: Summers of 1818 and 1819
• Today: A museum dedicated to Beethoven’s time in Mödling. It contains manuscripts, period instruments, and exhibits on the Missa Solemnis and the Hammerklavier Sonata, which he worked on here.
• Website

What Schoenberg Created in Mödling

A hundred years later, in 1918, Arnold Schoenberg moved to Mödling and lived at Bernhardgasse 6, close to where Beethoven once stayed. Schoenberg was starting a new chapter in his life. He was recovering from the war, teaching, and spending a lot of time painting.

Die Jakobsleiter (Jacob’s Ladder)

Schoenberg worked on this unfinished oratorio for years, and he wrote key parts of it in Mödling. The piece is full of spiritual meaning, inspired by the Biblical story of the ladder to heaven and Schoenberg’s own search for understanding.

Move Toward Twelve-Tone Technique

Schoenberg didn’t fully create the twelve-tone method until the 1920s, but his time in Mödling was important for his growth. He wrote several pieces using free atonality and tried out new musical ideas. The beginnings of his new method were already there.

Arnold Schoenberg’s Residence in Mödling

• Address: Bernhardgasse 6, 2340 Mödling, Austria
• Name of House: Arnold Schoenberg-Haus Mödling
• Period: 1918–1925
• Today: A museum and cultural site featuring Schoenberg’s music, paintings, and personal items. This is where he composed parts of Die Jakobsleiter and developed key ideas leading to his twelve-tone method.
• Website

What Can We Learn from Mödling?

Both Beethoven and Schoenberg came to Mödling when they needed a change and time to think. Their time here shows that creativity often starts in quiet places, away from the city, where artists can walk, reflect, and work in peace.

If you visit Vienna, consider stopping by Mödling. You can walk the same trails where Beethoven worked on his music and see the windows where Schoenberg dreamed up new ideas. Who knows, you might find your own inspiration there too.

At this moment, I live in Mödling and wish that the creativity that emerges from these composers will find its way to me.

The post What Makes Mödling an Ideal Hub for Beethoven and Schoenberg? first appeared on .

Sound, sense, and soul guide everything we do at MusikRoel. If any two artists truly captured these ideas, it’s Johann Sebastian Bach and The Beatles

Bach mastered fugues and counterpoint. The Beatles, four young musicians, changed popular music forever. What connects them? Maybe the answer lies in the numbers. More than we might think.

The Architecture of Sound

Bach’s music is built on structure, mathematical, elegant, and deeply moving. His fugues grow piece by piece, each voice adding to a complete whole. The Beatles, especially in their later albums, also explored layered structures and musical logic. For example, “Because” from Abbey Road features three-part harmonies inspired by a Beethoven sonata played in reverse. In “Paperback Writer,” Paul’s bassline weaves its own melody alongside the vocals.

These are no mere coincidences. The Beatles, though self-taught in many ways, were surrounded by producers and musicians steeped in the tradition of Western art music. George Martin, their producer, often called the “Fifth Beatle”, was trained in classical music and regularly translated their experimental instincts into structured, orchestrated arrangements.

Bach built fugues. The Beatles built soundscapes. Both were architects of musical space.

Finding the connections

1. Influence on Composition:
   • Bach’s intricate counterpoint and harmonic structures have influenced many musicians, including The Beatles. For instance, the piano solo in “In My Life” is said to be inspired by Bach’s Inventions, demonstrating how classical techniques can be blended with popular music.
2. Musical Techniques:
   • The Beatles often incorporated classical elements into their songs, which can be traced back to the influence of Bach. Their use of melodic lines and harmonic progressions reflects a profound understanding of musical theory, as exemplified by Bach.
3. George Martin’s Role:
   • George Martin, the producer for The Beatles, had a classical background and appreciated Bach’s work. His arrangements often incorporated classical techniques, which helped bridge the gap between classical and popular music.
4. Cultural Impact:
   • Both Bach and The Beatles have left an indelible mark on music history. Bach is often regarded as the pinnacle of Baroque music, while The Beatles revolutionized pop and rock music. Their legacies continue to inspire musicians across genres.
5. Personal Connections:
   • Paul McCartney has mentioned that Bach was a significant influence on him, particularly in his songwriting. This personal connection adds another layer to their relationship, as McCartney sought to incorporate Bach’s genius into his own work.

Bach’s numbers

Johann Sebastian Bach’s music is not only celebrated for its emotional depth and technical mastery but also for its intricate relationship with numbers and numerology. Here are some fascinating insights into the importance of numbers in Bach’s compositions:

1. Numerical Symbolism:
   • Bach often embedded symbolic numbers in his works, drawing from biblical and personal meanings. For instance, the number 14 (derived from the letters in his name: B+A+C+H) appears frequently in his compositions, symbolizing his identity and faith.
2. Mathematical Structure:
   • Bach’s approach to composition was highly mathematical. He could efficiently create entire works from a single line of music, showcasing his ability to manipulate musical ideas through numerical relationships.
3. Significance of Specific Numbers:
   • The number 3 often represents Divinity, while 4 symbolizes Humanity. The number 7 is particularly significant as it symbolizes perfection and is often associated with Christ, who embodies both human and divine qualities.
4. Fibonacci Sequence:
   • Bach’s music also incorporates elements of the Fibonacci sequence, with numbers like 144 and 233 appearing in his vocal works. These numbers are known for their mathematical properties and aesthetic appeal, contributing to the overall beauty of his compositions.
5. Mathematical Patterns:
   • Recent studies have revealed that Bach’s music contains mathematical patterns that help convey information and emotions, demonstrating his genius in blending art with mathematics.

I visited the house in Leipzig where Bach lived and composed, opposite the church and its choir, where he conducted. Numbers also played a role in his life, like, he had two wives and nineteen children.

The numbers of The Beatles

Numbers and numerology do play intriguing roles in The Beatles’ music, particularly through the perspectives of the band members, especially John Lennon. Here are some fascinating points to consider:

1. John Lennon’s Fascination with Number Nine:
   • John Lennon had a significant connection with the number 9. He was born on October 9, 1940, and often referred to the number as meaningful in his life. He even mentioned that he felt he was a number six or three, but it all tied back to nine. This number appears in various contexts in his work and life.
2. Song Lyrics and Numbers:
   • The Beatles frequently incorporated numbers into their lyrics. For example, in the song “Eight Days a Week,” the title itself emphasizes the number 8, suggesting an endless love. Similarly, in “One After 909,” the number 9 is prominent, reflecting Lennon’s personal significance to that number.
3. Numerical Patterns:
   • Some fans and analysts have observed that certain songs feature numerical patterns or structures that convey a deeper meaning. For instance, the counting in “One, Two, Three, Four” from “All My Loving” sets a rhythmic and thematic foundation that resonates with listeners.
4. Cultural References:
   • The Beatles’ music often reflects broader cultural themes, and numbers can symbolize various concepts. For example, the number 7 is often associated with perfection, which can be seen in the way they crafted their songs.
5. Lennon’s Spirituality:
   • Lennon’s interest in numerology and spirituality, which developed later in life, also influenced his music. He explored various philosophies that often incorporated numerological elements, which are also evident in his solo work.

The interplay of numbers in The Beatles’ music adds an extra layer of depth and intrigue, much like in Bach’s compositions!

The Beatles song that famously uses a 7/4 time signature is “All You Need Is Love.” This iconic track features a unique structure where the verse pattern is split into two 7/4 measures followed by a bar of 8/4, creating a distinctive rhythmic feel. The chorus then shifts to a steady 4/4 beat, with a final bar of 6/4 at the end. This innovative use of time signatures showcases The Beatles’ creativity and willingness to experiment with musical forms

Sense: Order in Chaos

Bach wrote music to show the order he saw in the world. His work aims for balance, clarity, and completeness. The Beatles, living in a much different time, used music to respond to the chaos of the 1960s. Albums like Rubber Soul, Revolver, and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band reflect their search for meaning during a time of change.

There’s a shared logic here: not just the intelligence behind the music, but the sensing of something larger. Something that holds when the rest of the world shakes..

Take the song ‘In My Life.’ Its middle section has a Baroque-style piano solo, sped up to sound like a harpsichord. This is clearly a nod to Bach. More than that, it shows how the past, like our memories, can be brought to life in new ways.

Soul: The Inner Voice

What connects Bach and The Beatles is the spirit in their music

Bach wrote Soli Deo Gloria, “To God alone the glory,” on most of his manuscripts. Every note was an offering. The Beatles, though not religious in the same way, offered their own form of soulfulness. Let It Be, Across the Universe, Blackbird, these are hymns of a different age, but they, too, reach for something sacred.

Bach’s use of numbers adds a profound layer of meaning to his music, inviting listeners to explore not just the sound, but also the underlying structures that make his compositions timeless. Isn’t it fascinating how numbers can intertwine with art in such a meaningful way? If you have more questions about Bach or any other topic, feel free to ask

The connection between Johann Sebastian Bach and The Beatles is quite fascinating, as both have had a profound impact on music in their respective eras. Both remind us that music isn’t just sound. It’s a form of listening to the world, to each other, to the self. Moreover, it’s intriguing to see how Bach’s music has transcended time and influenced modern artists like The Beatles.

Both artists show us that music is more than just sound. It’s a way to listen to the world, to others, and to ourselves.

Where Do We Go from Here?

The real magic may not be in how Bach and The Beatles are similar, but in how their music can connect across time and style. This is the kind of music we celebrate at MusikRoel, where sound leads to meaning, and meaning touches the soul.

The post How to Explore Harmony Between Bach and The Beatles first appeared on .

When I think about ‘Rumours’ by Fleetwood Mac, I see it as more than just a classic album. It feels like a cultural moment and an exploration of what it means to be human.

In 1977, amidst emotional wreckage and personal implosion, Fleetwood Mac released ‘Rumours,’ an album that does more than document heartbreak; it lays bare raw humanity and reaches for universal truth.

Some people might call ‘Rumours’ a break-up album, but that doesn’t quite capture it. Break-up albums usually focus on endings. ‘Rumours’ goes further. It shows us what it means to be vulnerable, puts those feelings into music, and gives them back to us—not for sympathy, but so we can see ourselves in them.

A Soundtrack of Emotional Contradiction

Philosophy teaches us that truth is often paradoxical. In ‘Rumours,” the paradoxes abound:

• Stevie Nicks pleads ‘You can go your own way’ yet longs to be understood.
• Christine McVie sings ‘You make loving fun,’ to someone who isn’t her husband.
• Lindsey Buckingham delivers ‘Never Going Back Again,’ right before going back again in another track.

The album is both fragmented and unified, much like life itself. In fact, it’s a sonic example of the Heraclitean flux: everything flows, nothing stays the same, yet there is a beauty in change.

Love as Both Anchor and Abyss

Love has always been complicated, from ancient philosophers to modern thinkers. ‘Rumours’ captures that old struggle between seeing love as something perfect and feeling how it can fall apart.

Each track is a philosophical vignette of lovers trying to make sense of the mess they’ve made together. And not just as romantic partners, but as co-creators. The miracle of the album is not that it was made despite their breakups, but that it was made through them.

Imagine singing to someone who’s hurt you, while they play the music behind you, all while knowing everyone will hear it. That’s what makes this album so powerful.

Production as Emotional Geometry

If Aristotle were alive today, he might have said this album achieves a kind of ‘cathartic symmetry.’ It’s not only the lyrics that hurt, it’s how they’re arranged. Mick Fleetwood’s drumming is precise, like fate. John McVie’s bass lines are as steady as the truths we try to ignore. The harmonies? They hurt because they are so good; they remind us of the beauty we’ve already lost. In ‘The Nicomachean Ethics,’ Aristotle speaks of ‘phronesis,’ practical wisdom. ‘Rumours’ is full of it. Not intellectual wisdom. Not abstract theory. But emotional intelligence takes shape.

Why It Still Haunts

We keep coming back to ‘Rumours’ not just for nostalgia, but because it takes us to emotional places we rarely visit. The album lasts because it’s honest. Even the happiest songs carry a sense of real, human struggle.

The Album Reminds Us:

• That love is sometimes impossible, and still worth trying.
• That honesty doesn’t always heal, but it liberates.
• That music can do what words alone cannot: harmonize our contradictions.

Final Thought: Harmony Through the Wreckage

‘Rumours’ is more than just an album. Fleetwood Mac showed us what it looks like to find dignity in the middle of chaos. They put their pain and hope into the music. As Nietzsche said, ‘We have art so that we shall not die of the truth.’ ‘Rumours’ is that kind of art. It isn’t perfect, and neither are we, but its flaws make it feel complete.

What’s your favorite track on Rumours, and why does it still haunt you? Please share your thoughts below. #PhilosophyOfMusic.

My favorite Rumours song

The post Getting to The Philosophical Depth of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ first appeared on .

Last weekend, I traveled to Haapsalu for the summer symphony.

Haapsalu is a town on the seashore about an hour away from Tallinn. Both the setting and the idea appeal to me, particularly for an outdoor performance on a long summer evening in an old castle. These ingredients aroused my curiosity, and in addition, Estonian composers as well as Mozart’s works were on the program.

Highlight of the evening: Songs by Eduard Tubin

The evening started with Tormis. Suite from the Estonian film “The Spring.” The relatively modern composition was a good start to the concert. The audience could get settled with an Estonian narrative that was familiar to them. Later that evening, they performed songs by Tubin arranged by R. Puur. “Õnne ootel” and Kõrvits. “Puudutus.” For me, this was the highlight of the evening: new music to my ears, sung in the beautiful Estonian language, by a performer who felt the meaning of each word, and an audience who opened up. The interpretation and reception of Rubin’s songs was great, or as my former Estonian language teacher would say: “Tubli, tubli.”

Another experience with Mozart

As you undoubtedly know, Mozart is my classical music superhero; his compositions and life story are a huge source of inspiration to me. As a teenager, I loved to play his music, now listening to it, feeling it, experiencing it, and wanting to know more about it every time. In that regard, this evening went differently than expected. I liked the music performance less, which made the evening primarily educational.

The first introduction: La Clemenza di Tito

Sandra Laagus climbed the stage to perform Sesto’s aria “Parto, ma tu ben mio.” A nice choice was to set up the clarinet as a second vocal alongside the singer on the stage; it created an interesting interpretation of this passionate song. Once again, Mozart proves to me how beautifully he brings out the singers’ sound. Go to this YouTube link to see for yourself.

This aria, sung initially by Sesto, expresses Sesto’s dichotomy between his loyalty to Tito and his desire to succumb to his love for Vitellia, who pushes him to attempt the assassination of his best friend. What will he choose? So, a song with a huge emotional charge and also an essential message to all of us. Although I desperately wanted to feel it, I didn’t.

The central theme of La clemenza di Tito is forgiveness. No matter how severe the betrayal, in this case by his wife, Vitellia, and his best friend, Sesto, Tito chooses to demonstrate moral leadership and grants both forgiveness and mercy.

The second chance: Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 1

The last composition before the break was Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 1 in B-flat major, K. 207. And once more, the same feeling occurred, namely, none at all. So, I started wondering, was it due to the outside air that caused details to be lost? Although we were in a secure walled place, some things did blow over. It certainly could. However, I found that explanation insufficient, so I sought a more satisfactory answer.

Why was this performance thin, as if the musicians didn’t feel the music? And simultaneously, why didn’t it resonate with the audience? There should be an interaction between the two, the interpretation of the music and its reception.

Final proof: Mozart’s Symphony No. 40

Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550, composed in 1788, is one of his most well-known works. Also called the “Great G minor Symphony,” this piece stands out due to its emotional depth. Written in a minor key, it expresses deep feelings of tragedy and unrest. Unlike much of Mozart’s music, which is elegant and balanced, Symphony No. 40 feels urgent, stormy, and psychologically restless. Once again, it didn’t do enough for me. It was as if they misinterpreted the “syncope” where to stress, to articulate more, to accentuate, to feel.

Philosophical Meaning of the Symfony

Many interpret this symphony as Mozart’s expression of personal despair and a confrontation with mortality. He composed it during a challenging period characterized by financial stress and loneliness. Unlike other Classical era symphonies that focus on form and balance, this one reveals emotional honesty, psychological depth, and human vulnerability.

Did they understand Mozart?

With they, I mean musicians and audience. Mozart is on one hand mischievous and rebellious, and on the other he wants to bind people and deepen relations in harmony with counterpoint. As a member of the free masons, he had aspirations for a better world and also had a tendency to go against the establishment. Like, for example, his operas where he showed that the nobility are just like us ordinary people and are also capable of bad things. In Prague, they celebrated his Don Giovanni as a testament against the ruling power. An idea of freedom that is just as relevant in Estonia, after centuries of oppression by foreign powers, they can finally enjoy their own language, culture and country in complete freedom! So my advice: acquire a broader understanding. Not only of Mozart’s works, but in general. With the people and cultures we meet. Don’t judge, open up and respect the differences and similarities.

Da Capo: Pärt

Due to the audience’s enthusiasm, the orchestra played another encore, namely a work by Pärt. Music composed of quiet tones that fly unnoticed in the Estonian landscape. This one arrived noticeably with everyone; it was the familiar mix of recognition and comfort. What I want to give everyone, not just with music: go on a journey of discovery and dare to feel. Try to break away from your own framework to understand new music or other cultures better, as it may be misleading you.

Learning to discover and feel?

I strongly encourage everyone to read this book and listen to the accompanying music. Engaging with these stories will not only challenge your limits but also deepen your understanding of music. Don’t miss out on this enriching experience!

Buy the book

It was a beautiful and interesting summer evening.

I found the line-up of the works appropriate to environment and background. I noticed how much Estonians are, rightly so, proud of their heritage, and thus also got to know better the country I love to live in. Afterward, I allowed myself another pleasant drink at Wow Bao while enjoying the white midsummer night.

The post What Makes Haapsalu’s White Night So Special? first appeared on .

A recently unearthed piece of music by Frédéric Chopin, found in a private Parisian collection, appeared at an auction recently. But this is more than a musical event — it is a philosophical moment

In this fragile manuscript, we find not only new notes from a master but echoes of an idea: that music, like thought, like love, is an act of resistance.

George Sand owned this manuscript

The piece once belonged to George Sand, the brilliant writer and social thinker who shared years of life and spirit with Chopin. Sand was no passive muse — she was a storm of independence in a conservative world. She wore men’s clothing, smoked cigars, wrote bestselling novels, and championed women’s rights. She criticized marriage not because she scorned love, but because she believed in its freedom. For Sand, as for Chopin, art was not just expression but emancipation.

Eugène Delacroix made the tiger drawing

And what do we make of the drawings of a tiger on the manuscript, made by Eugène Delacroix, the Romantic painter and mutual friend of Chopin and Sand? Delacroix, too, was a philosopher with a brush — a painter who believed in the primacy of the inner world over the outer form. His tiger sketches, fierce and sinuous, seem to prowl along the margins of Chopin’s music, suggesting an instinctive, untamed energy that classical forms often seek to contain.

Three artists combine their efforts

These three—Chopin, Sand, and Delacroix—were not merely artists. They were thinkers of feeling, engaged in the philosophical question of how to live truthfully in a society built on appearances. Chopin’s music, with its introspective beauty and quiet defiance, counteracted the noise of the era. Sand’s novels and essays explored the soul’s capacity for moral rebellion. Delacroix’s paintings broke through the surface to reach the essence beneath.

What does this mean for us?

Now, as this forgotten score comes to light, we are invited to listen and reflect. What does it mean that such beauty was hidden, almost lost? What does it say that it survived — not through institutions but through friendship, love, and personal conviction?

The tiger, the manuscript, the music—all whisper a truth that lies at the heart of MusikRoel: that music is not an ornament to life but a way of thinking about it. And perhaps, as Chopin’s quiet notes meet Delacroix’s prowling lines under the watchful care of George Sand, we are reminded that the most profound philosophies are sometimes played, not spoken

The post The Sound of Freedom: Chopin and Sand’s Musical Journey first appeared on .

Hotel California: A Song of Freedom and Illusion

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

— The Eagles, Hotel California

My favorite pop song is, without a doubt, Hotel California. It is a song that spurred me to action, and I always carry it along. Loved by millions, there are also multiple interpretations of the meaning of the lyrics. Which, by the way, have already been refuted by the band. It’s time for me to look at it differently. Partly to understand why it inspires me. So that’s why I put on philosophical glasses. Are you curious about what this “where music and philosophy meet” brings?

The Illusion of Freedom

From the first lines—“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair”—the song evokes a feeling of escape. The protagonist is journeying freely, yet he soon finds himself seduced by a place that promises luxury, beauty, and rest. But this is no ordinary hotel. It quickly becomes clear that it is not a sanctuary but a prison masquerading as paradise.

This is where existentialism steps in. Philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre argued that hell is not a place of fire and brimstone but rather a self-made reality built on bad faith—denying one’s freedom by accepting comforting illusions. The guests of the Hotel California live in an illusion of pleasure and belonging. But as the lyrics warn: “We are all just prisoners here, of our own device.”

Baudrillard and the Simulacrum

The Hotel itself is a kind of simulacrum—a copy of a paradise that never truly existed. In Simulacra and Simulation, philosopher Jean Baudrillard explains how modern society replaces the real with symbols and images until the distinction vanishes. Hotel California is this mirage: “such a lovely place” filled with “pretty, pretty boys” and “mirrors on the ceiling,” but beneath the surface, it’s empty. The song becomes a metaphor for consumerism, Los Angeles culture, or the American Dream itself—a shining illusion that traps those who chase it.

Plato’s Cave

Another powerful philosophical reading is Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. Just as the prisoners in Plato’s cave are fooled by shadows on the wall, the Hotel’s guests mistake appearances for reality. The protagonist’s awakening is gradual—he starts to see that the food doesn’t nourish, the people don’t leave, and even the “master” is powerless: “They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can’t kill the beast.” Like Plato’s escaped prisoner, the singer glimpses a truth beyond the illusion—but cannot bring the others with him.

The Cycle of Desire

Hotel California also speaks to a Buddhist understanding of samsara—the endless craving, illusion, and suffering cycle. The guests arrive seeking satisfaction, pleasure, and rest, only to find themselves trapped in a wheel of longing. “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.” This line mirrors the Buddhist teaching that desire creates suffering, and freedom comes not from indulgence but from awareness.

Final Notes

Hotel California isn’t just a rock ballad. It’s a philosophical parable wrapped in California cool. It confronts us with questions:

• What illusions do we live inside?
• Have we mistaken comfort for freedom?
• Are we prisoners of our own devices?

The Eagles may have sung about a fictional hotel, but they described a very real part of the human condition—our vulnerability to seduction, illusion, and self-deception. And so, the song endures. Not because it gives us answers, but because it invites us to look deeper.

Listen again. Not with your ears, but with your mind. What is your Hotel California? Mine is that when walking around in Tallinn, I got the Hotel California feeling, the feeling of freedom, and at the same time, the sense that I would never be able to say goodbye to Tallinn

Listen here

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What happens when music becomes a doorway—not just to another time or feeling, but to a deeper understanding of ourselves?

In 4 Classical Music Stories, author Roel Arnold invites readers to experience the transformative power of classical music through fiction. Each story is inspired by a great work of classical music and reimagined as a rich narrative that explores human complexity, beauty, and resilience. But this book is more than a celebration of music—it is a philosophical meditation. Beneath each story lies a question: What does it mean to live well? To seek the truth? To be moved by something we cannot explain? Let us enter these four vivid worlds, each shaped by a different composer and era, and discover the harmony between music, narrative, and philosophy.

1. Antonin in New York

Inspired by: Antonín Dvořák – Symphony No. 9 “From the New World”

Set in the 1890s, “Antonin in New York” tells the story of the Czech composer Antonín Dvořák as he journeys to America, where he is commissioned to write what would become his iconic New World Symphony. The tale fictionalizes his travel, time and assignment in New York as a young violin prodigy, focusing on his encounters with New Yorkers, musicians, and Native American traditions.

Through this fictionalized journey, the story raises powerful questions: Can an outsider truly represent another culture through music? What does it mean to listen with empathy? Can do undertake challenges all by ourselves?

What begins as a story about cultural exchange soon transforms into a philosophical reflection on displacement, identity, cooperation, and artistic listening. Dvorak asked himself: Can a symphony truly capture the soul of a land not your own? What does it mean to honor another’s story without appropriating it?

Philosophical core:

This story taps into the ethics of cultural encounters and the philosophy of belonging. It recalls the ideas of Martin Buber, who emphasized genuine dialogue and the sacredness of encountering “the Other.” Dvořák’s listening becomes a model for empathy—not speaking for others, but with them.

2. Elise the Courier

Inspired by: Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Concerto No. 5 “Emperor”

In the forests, a young woman named Elise works as a courier. Her mission is to transport packages hidden within the musical scores she plays for the ruling elite.

The story honors Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 “Emperor.” Elise undertakes a long voyage to deliver a package, with a message. At the receiver’s address, she plays the ‘Hammerklavier’ sonata, a work that would mark a new period in Beethoven’s pianoforte compositions, indicating a significant shift in his style and approach. 

Along the way she encounters challenges and peril, she never shies away from them and courageously pursues them. She does what she loves and dares to risk her life for it. Her choices go against the mainstream and instead of opting for safety and security, she prefers to pursue her dreams and passions. Is this, how does music become a voice when words are forbidden?

Philosophical core:

The tale speaks to moral courage and resistance, inspired by thinkers like Hannah Arendt and Immanuel Kant. What does it mean to live courageously in silence? Elise’s quiet bravery reminds us that freedom isn’t just a political or societal condition—it’s a personal ethic, a decision to live with integrity, even when no one is watching.

3. Amadé and the Popcorn Night

Inspired by: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Eine kleine Nachtmusik

This whimsical yet deeply poignant story follows a boy named Amadé, a lover of sports, the garden, and the mischief of nighttime adventures. One evening, after sneaking through the castle, he is met with a magical turn of events—one where music shapes the world around him.

What begins as a playful escapade unfolds into a journey of self-discovery and wonder. Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, known for its elegance and charm, becomes a portal for Amadé to confront his fears, desires, and sense of time.

The story is playful and surreal, this story is about imagination, childhood, and rediscovering joy. The narration questions us why we lose our sense of wonder as we grow, and what it teaches us about play and freedom?

Philosophical core:

At heart, this story engages with the philosophy of play and imagination, recalling Friedrich Schiller’s concept of the “play drive”—the idea that beauty and play are not just pleasures but essential to our humanity. Amadé learns that to play, dream, and be moved by beauty are acts of both joy and resistance.

4. Sammy’s Walk

Inspired by: Béla Bartók – Divertimento for String Orchestra

“Sammy’s Walk” is a story without rush. It follows Sammy, a quiet, introspective dog who walks through a forest on the edge of town. Along the way, he meets other animals, hears distant echoes of music, and encounters moments of obedience that seem to speak louder than sound.

Bartók’s Divertimento weaves itself into the fabric of the natural world—the rustling leaves, the bird calls, even the rhythm of Sammy’s footsteps. The story becomes a meditation on nature, listening, and the hidden harmonies of the universe.

Sammy walks through a forest filled with music—literally. Every leaf, breeze, and echo carries a sound. As he listens, he begins to understand his connection to all living things. And asks us: Can silence be a kind of music? How do we attune ourselves to the world around us?

Philosophical core:

This piece engages with ecological philosophy and phenomenology, drawing from thinkers like Merleau-Ponty and David Abram. Sammy’s journey isn’t just through the forest—it’s a journey into the interconnectedness of all life. He learns to listen—not just to music, but to the world itself.

Music as Mirror and Meaning

What binds these four stories together is their musical inspiration and their shared belief that music is more than entertainment. Music is a mirror, a map, a metaphor.

Each story asks timeless philosophical questions:

• What is identity in a new world?
• What does it mean to act morally?
• Why do we need to play and wonder to stay whole?
• How can silence and sound teach us to live more fully?

“4 Classical Music Stories” combines narrative with classical music to offer a unique reading experience. You don’t need to be a music expert to appreciate it; it’s perfect for anyone who has ever felt touched by a melody, captivated by a harmony, or comforted by an unexplained song.

Each story can be paired with the piece that inspired it. Read while listening—or read in silence and let your imagination provide the score. The QR code offers a direct link to a recording of that opus on SoundCloud. Each chapter can be read on its own, but together they create a kind of quartet—a literary composition that flows through movements of boldness, grace, curiosity, and stillness.

Music Meets Meaning

4 Classical Music Stories is more than a literary collection. It’s a bridge between two worlds:

• Art and thought
• Emotion and reflection
• Music and philosophy

It’s perfect for lovers of classical music, fans of thoughtful fiction, educators, and anyone curious about how art can deepen our understanding of life. You don’t need to know music theory to enjoy the stories. Each piece is accessible, poetic, and emotionally rich.

For Readers, Listeners, and Seekers

Whether you are a lifelong lover of classical music or just starting to explore its depths, 4 Classical Music Stories’ offers an invitation. It’s not just about listening; it’s about feeling, reflecting, and rediscovering. This book is for the sensitive thinker, the quiet rebel, and the late-night dreamer. It’s for anyone who believes that stories and songs can still change the world—or at least help us change ourselves

Where to Get the Book?

4 Classical Music Stories is now available in paperback. To buy it, follow this link to books.by or via this site.

Buy here

Read It. Feel It. Listen Along.

Each story can be paired with the piece that inspired it. Read while listening—or read in silence and let your imagination provide the score.

• Dvořák: Symphony No. 9 “From the New World”
• Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5 “Emperor”
• Mozart: Eine kleine Nachtmusik, KV 525
• Bartók: Divertimento for String Orchestra, Sz.113 BB.118

Let your ears and your mind travel together.

A Final Note

In times of noise and distraction, stories like these invite us to slow down, listen deeply, and think clearly. Classical music reminds us of what’s timeless. And stories—like the ones in this book—remind us of what it means to be human.

The post 4 Classical Music-Inspired Stories That Unlock the Heart of Great Composers first appeared on .