Rating Classics, Not Bowl Champions
Back in the day, when sports columnists were a daily presence, my job description included having an opinion on the national college football championship.
Often, this entailed being in warm places on New Year’s Day, which is the best thing I can say about covering the loopy methods of judging teams with differing schedules playing in different bowl games. Bowl games got me to Pasadena or Miami. What can I say?
Now that I am retired, I pay no attention to any form of football. Instead, I am free to follow another highly imperfect ratings system, closer to my heart and ear – the annual vote for the best classical music, as conducted by the invaluable station emanating from my home town (and live on the Web) WQXR-FM, 105.9 on the dial.
The station has been conducting this poll since the mid-‘80s, asking listeners to rank their favorites. The results are played in the annual countdown in the last week of the year, generally reflecting the programming of the station – the old favorites, often presented one movement at a time.
During the countdown, the station also conducts a running blog (results not updated as quickly as listeners would like) including commentary from the faithful in distant states and foreign lands. Many of respondents are passionate about wanting" More variety! More medieval music! More Reich and Glass! More music by African-American composers! More music by women!
Plus, there is the rampant suspicion that some Gilbert & Sullivan supporters pack the ballot box, just like voters in some towns and states I could name.
And some listeners question whether Gilbert & Sullivan is actually classical music. I pass on that one.
My feeling is, the annual countdown reflects the tastes of people who support WQXR and live classical music in New York. More power to them.
Still: every year I make a small list of music I play at home, and I hope some of it will slip into the countdown. As my friend Vic Ziegel, who introduced me to the strange charm of the racetrack, used to say about the track announcer: “At least give my horse a call.”
In the past few couple of years, I have been trending toward chamber music at home because it is self-contained, providing a welcome alternative to the toxic earworms on the air waves.
--In an ugly time, I have become infatuated with Ravel’s “Pavane for a Dead Princess,” for its beauty and pace and dignity.
--I often choose “Butterworth/Parry/Bridge,” its three composers taking me back me to lazy summer days, visiting a friend in the Brecon Beacons of Wales.
-- I was rooting hard for something by Florence Price, the composer whose work is often championed by the wonderful Terrance McKnight on his evening gig, not just in Black History Month, either.
--Because we are blessed to have two good friends comprising half of the New Zealand String Quartet, we have their works by Bartok, among others.
-- But the work I was really hoping for was Sir William Walton’s Violin Concerto, performed by Kyung-Wha Chung. I still remember the first time I heard it: I was a news reporter in the late ‘70s, driving to meet some nuns in jeans and sweatshirts who did the Lord’s work in the South Bronx. But when this stunning piece appeared on my car radio, I sat and listened for the full half hour.
Alas, this beautiful piece is not easily found on vinyl or CD – and is not in the WQXR top 120, either. Not even, in racetrack parlance, a call.
The 2019 list does include many things I love, including a few pieces by Erik Satie, Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings,” and – No. 4 in the poll -- Dvorak’s “From the New World.” The older I get, the more I appreciate Dvorak, for his music and also for his love for two worlds, Bohemia and America.
I missed it live, but there on the list at No. 68 was a very modern already-classic, "The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace," by Karl Jenkins, first performed in 2000, which I heard for the first time in the past year.
However, the piece that really knocked me out was No. 109, Gustav Mahler’s “Symphony No. 8 in E-Flat, Symphony of a Thousand,” by the San Francisco Symphony, Michael Tilson Thomas conducting, with wonderful soloists and choruses. It made me stop what I was doing and just listen.
At the end, Beethoven placed six in the top 10. I have no quarrel with the selections because the voters care about “their” music. It’s up to us to seek out the music we love, and play it, and pay for it, early and often.
Happy New Year.
* * *
The current results:
Plus, check out the blog with informed and passionate comments by listeners: .
And for comparison, the two most recent results.
1/1/2020 11:53:04 am
Beautiful, George. Thanks so much. It's the first thing I read this morning -- great way to start the new year on the internet. Speaking of which: Happy New Year to all who participate here - the stalwarts who regularly send in such fine comments (on that score, no blog that I'm aware of compares with this one), and those (like me) who read and lurk and maybe comment once in a great while.
1/1/2020 01:00:03 pm
Well said Gene. George’s blog is like a hub where something is always happening and the regulars check in from time to time.
1/1/2020 01:22:08 pm
Dear Gene and Alan: Happy New Year, so nice to see you names so early in the new year, BTW: I just inserted another new favorite, Karl Jenkins' "A Mass for Peace," which I heard only in the past year -- with religious framework but essentially a hymn against war.
1/1/2020 07:04:05 pm
About your readers, when I leave your blog and go to my Musings, I raise the IQ both places.
1/1/2020 09:15:58 pm
Ed: It's pretty high on the list, this year's was not the Gould version, I think, I listened to part of it and it wasquite good.
1/2/2020 09:10:44 am
First of all, Happy New Year to George and all who comment here. This is my favorite corner of the internet.
1/2/2020 03:20:17 pm
Roy: thanks for the great list -- especially No. 10, two of my favorites I never even thought about yesterday....
1/2/2020 02:12:19 pm
1/2/2020 03:27:02 pm
Bruce: wait....you met a French munitions expert....and your hotel got bombed? Just asking...
1/2/2020 05:03:16 pm
1/2/2020 05:30:48 pm
1/2/2020 03:55:49 pm
It is always the unexpected events when you travel that seem to be the best.
1/2/2020 04:20:23 pm
Alan: Sometimes you just get lucky. My friend Logan said he was jogging in London years ago on a quiet Sunday morning, and down an empty street came a limousine --- with QEII waving nicely to....well....a guy in shorts. Right place, right time. Best, GV
1/2/2020 04:25:11 pm
1/2/2020 08:00:36 pm
Hank, nice to see your input on this site., I know Mintz, have heard his music but never live and did not know he lived near us
1/2/2020 08:01:39 pm
Hank: ...coffee someday (not something)
1/2/2020 07:07:56 pm
Another two cents worth. Fascinating string. Stravinsky’s “Le Sacre du Primtemps” by the Philharmonic Orchestra LD London, (way back.) You Tube has a performance by Anton Dorati and the Detroit, readily available. Stravinsky is on my list, beyond the music itself, because I believe he was a seminal figure.
1/2/2020 07:57:32 pm
Ed: Thanks for the musical feedback. Youtube is amazing. For 3-4 seconds of ads, I can choose which music to hear. Or Weekend Update from SNL if I dozed off the night before,
1/2/2020 10:17:53 pm
At one time they did years ago. I’ll ask them and get back. Peggy recalls that Lady Bird and Muriel were there and we were all laughing at the kids, us, etc. Scott and LBJ shared a birthday and he got a card from him.
1/2/2020 08:24:38 pm
1/3/2020 01:34:00 am
Comments are closed.
From the great Maureen Dowd:
As I write this, I’m in a deserted newsroom in The Times’s D.C. office. After working at home for two years during Covid, I was elated to get back, so I could wander around and pick up the latest scoop.
But in the last year, there has been only a smattering of people whenever I’m here, with row upon row of empty desks. Sometimes a larger group gets lured in for a meeting with a platter of bagels."
--- Dowd writes about the lost world of journalists clustered in newsrooms at all hours, smoking, drinking, gossipping, making phone calls, typing, editing.
"Putting out the paper," we called it.
Much more than nostalgia.