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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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 .

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 .

My scores in math were low during my entire school career, but I had no problem understanding and playing classical music. When I read about the importance of numbers in classical music, I started to believe that the composers were also good at math. So I took the liberty of asking a few questions to ChatGPT; although I felt like Michael Knight talking to K.I.T.T., I was intrigued with the answers and wanted to share these with you.

Does Mozart make you smarter?

Listening to Mozart’s music has been suggested to temporarily boost specific cognitive abilities, such as spatial-temporal reasoning, in a phenomenon known as the “Mozart effect.” However, it is essential to note that these benefits are small and short-lived and that other forms of cognitive stimulation, such as reading and physical exercise, may significantly impact overall cognitive function.

What about numbers in Mozart’s music?

Mozart also used number symbolism in his music to give it deeper spiritual or religious meaning. One of the best-known examples of this is in his opera “The Magic Flute.” The number 3 is a prominent theme throughout the opera and symbolizes the Holy Trinity; and also appears in the form of a trio of characters, a set of 3 trials, and the use of the number 3 in the overture.

Another example is in his Requiem in D minor, K. 626, which is a mass for the dead, and the number is a recurring theme throughout the work. The number 40 is associated with mourning and repentance in Christianity. The work consists of 40 sections, and the final section, the “Lacrimosa,” is 40 bars long. Additionally, the number 7 is also recurring in Mozart’s music; he used it as a symbol of perfection and the days of creation. Mozart used numbers in his music to give it a more profound spiritual or religious meaning, often referencing religious themes and numerology.

What was Bach’s significant number?

Johann Sebastian Bach was known for many things, but one of his most important contributions was his use of number symbolism in his music. He often used specific numbers, such as 3 and 7, to give his compositions a more profound spiritual or religious meaning.

One of the most well-known examples of number symbolism in Bach’s music is his use of the number 14. He used this number in many of his compositions, like in his “The Art of Fugue,” a collection of 14 fugues and 4 canons. Some experts state that Bach’s use of the number 14 is a reference to the 14 stations of the cross in the Christian tradition. Additionally, Bach often used the number 3 to symbolize the Holy Trinity and the number 7 to represent the seven days of creation. He also used the number 10 to indicate the Ten Commandments.

Can you relate classical music to mathematics?

Classical music and mathematics have many connections—for example, music is based on mathematical principles such as rhythm, harmony, and proportion. The concept of time, a mathematical concept, forms the base of rhythm in music. The principles of time signatures and meter, which are simple mathematical ratios, govern the structure of beats in music. Harmony in music stems from the concept of frequency and pitch, which are also mathematical concepts. The relationship between different pitches is determined by the principles of intervals and chords, one again simple mathematical ratios.

Proportion and symmetry are also significant in music. For example, many classical compositions work around symmetrical structures, such as the binary form, ternary form, and sonata form, which come from the principles of balance and proportion. Additionally, in the 18th century, with the development of well-tempered tuning systems, composers such as Bach and Mozart could compose in any key and have it sound in tune, which was a significant step forward in the development of tonality and harmony in music. It was made possible by the mathematical principles of equal temperament. In summary, classical music has many connections to mathematics, and the principles of rhythm, harmony, proportion, and symmetry are based on mathematical concepts.

Was Beethoven a mathematician too?

Although not a mathematician by profession, Beethoven deeply understood mathematical principles and often incorporated them into his compositions. In addition, he had a strong interest in the laws of harmony, rhythm, and structure and was known to have studied treatises on music theory and counterpoint.

Beethoven’s use of rhythm and meter was quite complex, and he often employed hemiolas, syncopation, and irregular meters to create a sense of tension and release in his music. He also used mathematical techniques such as proportional canons, fugues, and variations to structure his compositions. He also composed several works inspired by number symbolism. For example, his Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125, has a choral setting of Friedrich Schiller’s poem “Ode to Joy” in the final movement; the number of voices and the duration of this movement reflect the number 9, which is considered a sacred number in many cultures.

Is there a relation between mathematics and Shostakovich music?

Another great composer, Dmitri Shostakovich, was heavily influenced by mathematical principles in his music. He was known for using complex rhythmic structures, dissonant harmonies, and unconventional forms, which were all based on mathematical concepts. Shostakovich’s use of rhythm is awe-inspiring. He often used irregular meters and asymmetrical phrases to create a sense of tension and dissonance in his music. Also, he used the “perpetuum mobile” technique, a type of fast-moving, rhythmically complex music that requires a deep understanding of mathematical principles such as time signatures and meter.

He also used mathematical structures in his compositions, such as sonata form and variation form, that built on the principles of symmetry and proportion. Additionally, he often used fugues and canons based on the principle of imitation, which are highly mathematical forms of composition. Shostakovich also used number symbolism; for example, in his Symphony No. 8, he used the number 8 as a symbol of the 8th of August, the day of the end of the war; in his Symphony No. 11, he used the number 11 as a symbol of the 11th of March, the day of the Bloody Sunday and in his Symphony No. 13, he used the number 13 as a symbol of the 13th of January, the day of the execution of the Jews in Babi Yar.

So Shostakovich’s music is heavily influenced by mathematical principles, and his complex rhythms, dissonant harmonies, unconventional forms, and number symbolism are all based on mathematical concepts.

Conclusion

Although incredibly beautiful and instructive, classical music does not make you smarter; I have already discussed this with you. But classical music has a strong foundation in mathematics that you may still need to learn. So anyway, have fun listening, with or without mathematics equations.

Enjoy the music!

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Obwohl sich der Frühling weniger entschlossen zeigt, als ich es gewohnt bin, kommt er wirklich. Mit der aufkeimenden Frühlingssonne und den aufblühenden Blumen kommen Reisepläne in den Sinn. Denn neben der Musik ist das Reisen mit dem Zug eine meiner Lieblingsbeschäftigungen. Und wenn ich an eine Zugreise durch Europa denke, höre ich Mozarts Serenaden für 13 Blasinstrumente (auf Englisch Winds) und sehe die ersten Ziele vor mir. Warum, werde ich dir jetzt erklären.

Reisen gibt dem Leben Klang

Wie jeder andere, baue ich nach und nach einen reichen Katalog von Reiseerfahrungen auf. Eine Auswahl? Gegrillten Fisch an der griechischen Küste essen, gemeinsam Paella in Javea kochen, den Sonnenuntergang auf Mykonos genießen, lange Fahrten auf der deutschen Autobahn unternehmen, barfuß in AyaSofia laufen, auf dem Skydeck des Willis Tower Höhenangst haben oder eine zufällige Fährüberfahrt machen, mich in Krakau mit Wodka volllaufen lassen oder Silvester in Paris feiern, ein Straßenfest in Antwerpen genießen oder nach einer langen Reise an die Küste auftauchen sehen und das Meer riechen. Das Zelt in der Nähe des Wassers aufschlagen, die Haut vom ersten Sonnenbad straffen oder am Lagerfeuer in einem neuen Land vor mich hin träumen. Und natürlich gibt es auch musikalische Erlebnisse, wie den Jazz und die Atmosphäre in New Orleans oder den Chorgesang in Split zu genießen. Oder mein Versuch, ein Musical in London zu schärtzen und die vielen Konzertbesuche in verschiedenen Städten Europas. Wie Paganini in Zagreb, Schostakowitsch in Bukarest, Haydn in Prag, Mozart in Eindhoven, Puccini in Maastricht, Rossini in Triest, Korngold in Sittard und Rimsky-Korsakow in Wien.

Musik und Reisen verleihen sich gegenseitig eine zusätzliche Dimension

Man denke nur an Händels Wassermusik, die für den König geschaffen wurde, und während die Musiker auf der Themse segelten und spielten, wurde die musikalische Botschaft vom Monarchen verkündet: “Ich bin dein König.” Musik und Reisen sind also eng miteinander verbunden. Auch Komponisten, wie die heutigen Popstars, sind viel gereist, und Reisen ist eine Bewegung, die neue Eindrücke vermittelt und ein elementarer Bestandteil der Fähigkeit ist, Kunst zu schaffen. Jeder Künstler braucht ständig neue Eindrücke, Bilder und Erfahrungen, die in gewisser Weise in ein neues Kunstwerk münden. Ein Musikstück, das dies für mich sehr stark repräsentiert, ist, wie gesagt, eine Komposition von Mozart, nämlich seine: Serenade Nr. 10 für 13 Bläser in B-Dur, K. 361. Ein Ensemble von Bläsern umgibt einen Kontrabass und lässt uns die Bewegung, die sie erzeugen, auf leichte und farbenfrohe Weise genießen. Der berühmteste Teil ist die Gran Partita, III Adagio, die auch im Film Amadeus gespielt wurde und die die Grundlage für diese Komposition bildet. Das erinnert mich immer an eine Zugfahrt. Der Zug dampft durch grünes und ungewohntes Gelände und wird von den Vögeln stimmungsvoll eskortiert. Der Zug passt seine Geschwindigkeit an, fährt aber weiter. Reisen ist wie mit dem Wind gehen, sich ohne Ballast schnell bewegen können. Mozart komponierte dieses Werk kurz nachdem er Salzburg mit Wien getauscht hatte. Es ist, als ob man seine Erleichterung über diesen Schritt spüren kann, wenn man dieses Werk hört.

Was werden meine nächsten Ziele sein?

Wie ich bereits sagte, ist es an der Zeit, wieder loszulegen. Es gibt noch so viele tolle Ziele, wie die Oper in Verona oder Aida bei den Pyramiden, oder ein Sommerfestival für klassische Musik, davon gibt es ja viele. Ich lasse mich immer wieder überraschen, aber in den kommenden Monaten werde ich Riga und Warschau besuchen, bevor ich in die Perle an der Donau zurückkehre, die auch in Zukunft der Mittelpunkt meiner Reisen sein wird. Dort kann ich, nachdem ich meine Heimatbasis gesichert habe, wieder in alle Richtungen gehen und natürlich auch in die Oper.

Diese Musik bringt aber auch eine andere Erinnerung zurück, nämlich an die Zeit, als ich Saxophonist in einen Harmonie war. Ich habe wieder Lust, ein Instrument zu spielen, aber diesmal die Klarinette. Leicht mitzunehmen und ein Lieblingsinstrument von Mozart. Das werde ich tun, wenn ich wieder in der Stadt des guten Windes lebe. Wer weiß, vielleicht lerne ich dann ‘An der schönen blauen Donau’.

Genieße die Musik!

Nägemist

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The images coming towards us are terrible. Cities in ruins, people flee, and many perish. As in all wars, it is ordinary people who are victims. But we will survive, temporarily adapt and never lose hope for a future of peace. Like Shostakovich did.

Last week I watched a few very personal and honest documentaries made by residents of Mariupol; some images were already from 2017. Many explosions are in the background; the neighbors no longer dare to talk to each other because of different opinions. During the recordings, people have died as a victim of war aggression. The acts of war have been going on for longer and destroyed more lives than we know. These images and documentaries bring to my mind music by Shostakovich, namely his fifteenth symphony. I will explain.

Shostakovich is like Pulp Fiction

On my visit to Bucharest, I underwent my premiere of a composition by Shostakovich. Prompted by the concert, I described the music as beautiful and technically challenging, but I did not expect it to have a “Pulp Fiction” effect. At first, the irony, the magnification, and the more profound thought did not get through to me. But fortunately, that would happen later when I realized that his fifth symphony was like a warning for dark times, a crisis that would swarm worldwide with great fury. This came true sometime later; he composed this work shortly before the Second World War broke out.

How did Shostakovich survive?

Born in St. Petersburg in 1925 and a child prodigy, just four years after starting to play the piano, Shostakovich entered the conservatory at only 13 years old; at 19, he composed his first symphony while playing in vaudeville theatres to support his family. This opus was also his graduation project at the conservatory and received great acclaim.

Although he continued to live in the Soviet Union, he did not support the regime; they rejected his work, including harsh comments in the newspapers. His Fifth Symphony literally and figuratively saved his life, at this point, he would say that “it must be clear to everyone what is happening here.” He also showed his quality as a survivor; he held his own despite the most challenging living conditions. Unfortunately, this also meant he reluctantly followed the regime’s dictates. However, the relationship with those in power remained difficult, and it was only after Stalin’s death that he could express his creativity again.

His fifth symphony is best known. Nevertheless, I am lucky to have an extraordinary recording of the Acousence Living Concert Series on vinyl of his fifteenth. This symphony is in one word: magnificent! It includes quotations from Rossini and Wagner and references to others such as Strauss and unintentionally provides an overview of Western compositions. It offers a melange of colors and scents belonging to the European palette. It presents well-known themes, takes you from anger to joy to other emotions, and sounds like an observation of the diversity that Europe may cherish as its strength. This Shostakovich is at his best, where tradition meets modernity.

The essence of Europe

In Greek mythology, Ovid describes the event when Zeus abducts the Phoenician princess, Europa, to Crete and rapes her under a tree, only to leave her behind – pregnant. Europa survived and lived a caring and healthy life despite the traumatic event. Depending on your point of view, it is permissible to interpret the name Europa as a reference to the part of the world. In any case, this princess demonstrates the determination that characterizes this continent.

Europe often receives scorn for not having a vision or voice and lacking a decisive leader. But, once again, Europe’s strength will lie in its diversity, the freedom given to other opinions and the search for a compromise that embodies and empowers us. Funnily enough, it is Shostakovich – a distant observer – who perfectly captures the essence of Europe. I thank him and wish his work may survive just as well as the composer succeeded.

Enjoy the music! Roel

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It is a horrible sight to see the Russian military movements and activities in Ukraine. Bombed houses, schools, hospitals, and bridges, many casualties, refugees, people surviving in basements and metro stations, a country bravely fighting for its sovereign existence. It makes me want to do something: help Ukraine and stop the war. But unfortunately, there is little I can do or accomplish. As compensation, I wrote this post to tell you about my dear memories of visiting Odessa. Due to its strategic location, this city will soon come under high pressure from the Russian aggressor.

My visit to Ukraine and Odesa

At the time I boarded, I didn’t know what to expect. As usual, I prepare little as I want to be surprised by the surroundings and the culture. To start, it was a bumpy flight, the landing was safe, and a taxi ride swiftly brought me downtown. My hotel was close to the opera but sadly had no concerts due to the holiday season. I walked to the other side of the street next to the garden with massive flower beds and decided to sit down and inhale the culture. Simply sitting in Gorsad Park, safeguarded by the flowers, enabled me to feel the vibrant energy, the lust for life, and the exaltation of being free and independent. There was no music, but it was unnecessary because everyone was swirling in a very melodic way. There was a buzzing of joyful intonation with all the words I didn’t understand. The women were showing off their elegance, the men their strength and pride. I observed a completely different culture and was happy to be in Odessa.

Odessa is a big city where the slopes corner around the sea and harbor and has an international atmosphere due to its historical and cultural richness. As a former eye to the west, it encompasses many buildings with Italian or French architecture. As such bore the nickname ‘Marseille of the Black Sea’ and has a theatre built by Austrian architects, it also had a large Jewish community.

The Potemkin steps and solidarity against authoritarian rule.

I had booked an extended weekend stay and wanted to see more than just people walking by, so I made my hikes through the city and to the beach. Beaches are always fun; the surroundings will always get you in a joyful mood. So I swam in the Black Sea, had sand between my toes, and noticed all the entertainment options visitors get. The nightlife is as festive as the beaches encounter the waves. I decided to make a long promenade alongside the beach, through the park. I noticed the many gymnastics racks, and at the end, I finally came to the harbor where ships were unloaded. Meanwhile, I had almost walked a perfect circle and faced the infamous Potemkin steps. You cannot see how tall they are; you have to pass midway to understand the effort needed to climb or descend these stairs.

• The staircase is 142 meters long and spans a height of 27 meters. Repeating 10 smaller steps and then a plateau, you get 192 steps, which are wide at the bottom and narrower at the top, bringing you from port to city level. The narrowing of the stairs makes them seem even longer and the ascent even more heroic.

The steps used to be named after the first city governor, Richelieu. Still, they gained their new name after the movie Battleship Potemkin, showing the famous scene of a rebellion and how the Czar ended it. The movie was intended to commemorate the Soviet Revolution and is now considered one of the greatest films of all time. It is based on a true story of sailors who had to endure the most brutal circumstances onboard and the humiliations of the officers. The sailors refused to eat their Borscht, which sparked the mutiny. Their mutiny was successful, and that’s why the Czar decided he had to end this with a counterattack, slaughtering sailers and sympathizing civilians. This didn’t take place on the Potemkin steps. However, in the movie, this is where the retaliation was staged. The persuasive powers of the film lead to the stairs being renamed after it. Potemkin symbolizes the citizens’ rebellion with the mutineers of the battleship and a display of solidarity against oppressive or authoritarian powers, or in other words, their heroism.

What does Mozart have to do with it?

Mozart never walked these stairs since they were built long after his demise, but these stairs are a symbol of the very same Mozart stood for. He disliked people with absolute authority, like the Archduke of Salzburg, and was a Freemason. He also had trouble conforming to the Emperor’s straightjacket. Freemasons are committed to the social engineering of man and society. Their ideals are individual freedom and development and a universal society where everyone has a place. Unfortunately, history has shown that authoritarian regimes persecute and murder Freemasons.

One of Mozart’s compositions, Don Giovanni, expresses his ideas. In his operas, he frequently denounced the nobility and the behavior of authorities. So, too, in Don Giovanni, where the womanizing narcissist is a metaphor for authoritarian power. 

In the famous Commendatore scene (act 2), Don Giovanni (K527), the womanizing narcissist, is given a chance to repent and save his life. He cannot and will not, however. The inhabitants of Prague saw in this the symbolism of the Austrian Emperor, and I see it now with the current leader of Russia. Don Giovanni knew that his behavior had been wrong, but he did not want to change. This music is symbolic of dictators and is a prophecy of Mozart coming true. As beautiful as this opera is, I can assure you that this scene is even more impressive live. However, it is not the music I associate with Odessa. For me, it is Mozart’s clarinet quintet. Because this composition depicts Odessa’s splendor, culture, and light-footedness.

Mozarts Clarinet quintet and Odesa

During Mozart’s time, the clarinet was in vogue as a new instrument, and he cleverly capitalized on this. His clarinet concerto (in A, KV 622) became famous in “Out of Africa.” However, the quintet (also in A, KV 581) belongs to Odessa; it is a composition for a clarinet and a string quartet. And is also called the Stadler Quintet because Mozart wrote it so that Anton Stadler, a friend, fellow freemason, and virtuoso clarinetist, could play it. It is an intimate concert where the clarinet, like an opera singer, takes the string quartet and the listeners by the hand. It tells a story that is entertaining, exciting, and, who knows, mischievous. Themes recur, switching from major to minor; tempo and mood changes occur.

Let’s follow the music!

1. The Allegro takes you by the hand up the stairs. Once upstairs, you catch your breath, and you look around you; you see the well-kept buildings and the dancing people. Then, before you walk further, you look at the port and see what you have done, proudly continuing your journey.
2. Larghetto, you walked up a little too fast; now you slow down in the city; via a detour, you walk past stores, hotels, and beautiful facades to the opera. The town fills you, you slowly absorb the energy.
3. Menuetto, at Derybasivska Street, people swaying past you incessantly, the laughter embraces you, as does the dream of a peaceful and respectful world.
4. Allegretto, you say goodbye to the city. You leave the hustle and bustle and go to a pleasant beach to splash in the water.

Slava Ukraini! Stand with Ukraine!

Isn’t there anything I can do? Listening to Mozart is revisiting Odessa and collecting my memories again. Now, all I can do is write my feelings down and wish for a better and more peaceful world. Luckily, I learned that I could make a booking on Airbnb to support people in Ukraine, so I decided to do so. But there are many other ways, which the site https://standwithukraine.com.ua shows.

I hope that I may be a support to all my Ukrainian friends and acquaintances. Slava Ukraini!

Enjoy the music! Roel

Nägemist

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