When I'm with you, I hear music

My quartet is working on a Dvorak piece, his Quartet No. 12 (American). We're a fairly new quartet, so this is challenging us to come together as a group more than other music has. As we were working on the Finale this past Sunday, our violist, a Russian native, explained to us, "Slavic music, it's either crying or dancing. There is nothing in between." We were playing too much in the in between and needed feel the fire.

When we were working on the Mozart Divertimenti we had enlisted the aid of a metronome, but Dvorak resists any such effort to bind or mechanize. He, like Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff, is a composer who captures the greatest and most intense of human passion in his music. You can not force him to behave, and a musician devoid of passion herself will bastardize the music.

He stirs fire into the heart and soul. That's probably why I prefer him to Mozart. Don't get me wrong; I adore Mozart, he was a genius and his music does dance (and is easier to whistle). Sousa, now he I could do without. I think he's the reason I chose a string rather than wind instrument. I'm sure the mindless march has its place, such as encouraging people to march mindlessly, but is more than one even necessary?

Crying or dancing, nothing in between. In real life, or course, we are often in the in between, but maybe we spend too much time there, and the music in our hearts slowly dies (or worse, reverts to Sousa. March on, little soldier). You choose where you want to spend your time. As for me, I will cry, dance, even laugh and whistle a little with Mozart when I'm tired.

Now, if I could only get those sixteenth note runs under my fingers.