I've known Sergei Rachmaninoff's works for years yet appallingly, I am only familiar through auditory retention. Far from being isolated as the lesser known composers of the classical Romanticism period, his works far preceded his name and reputation through the present years. I'm absolutely in love with his works; the precision and magnitude of knowing his unique capability for salient notes are perfection and timeless. I think Piano Concerto no. 3 and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini are unquestionable in their importance. It takes precedence however, that Tchaikovsky--who had a chummy relationship with Saint-Saëns and drowned in depression--once became Rachmaninoff's significant mentor.
How gratifying it is to indulge myself in the works of long dead people, long defunct bands, the long forgotten and the under appreciated. These folks are probably rolling in their graves considering the bandwagon of today's refinement. A cemented reason to my long running ignorance of today's music vogue.
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It has been a long established truth that I gain more satisfaction and enjoyment when embarking on an adventure in Quiapo or Divisoria rather than the gilded visage of malls these days. Not only can I buy tons of useful knick knacks here and there even with five hundred bucks but the chance of being part of the pleb and not be scorned for it is a breather. I joined Cors in her escapade to have her fortune mapped out for her research paper; at the same time, we had a blast buying accessories and DVDs to ensure our jobless days will at least run brighter.
My hypocrisy and impulsiveness acted way out of hand when I decided to buy the complete seasons of The Sopranos. When I got home, I couldn't help but cringe in dismay by the lack of restraint I showed and the stack of books that welcomed me.
1 comment:
Better watch out for "A Single Man" starring Colin Firth.*wink wink* It has been generating a lot of interest.
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