Caveat: Rachmaninoff – Concerto Number 2

It’s not that I don’t like classical music. I was raised on a steady diet of Dvorak, it seems like, alongside the Grateful Dead and Cat Stevens and the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack and other eclectica. But in my day-to-day life, I don’t listen much to classical music, to be honest.

I think part of the reason for that is that it has never worked well for me as “background music.” Unlike most other genres, it’s very difficult for me to listen to classical music and do other things at the same time – whether it be jogging or studying or surfing the internet. Perhaps my ad hoc musical education, mostly a gift from my bestfriend Bob, was a little bit too thorough, and I find myself listening too carefully to classical compositions.

I don’t think that’s it, entirely. I have always struggled more with the rhythm aspect of all music than with, say, melody or counterpoint. I find that the lack of overt rhythms in classical music (unlike such as are provided by the backing drums or synthesized beats of almost all other genres) almost makes me uncomfortable, at times. It’s almost as if I have to work harder to “follow” what’s going on in music without explicit rhythms. I know that sounds strange – and it’s hard for me to explain.

OK, whatever. Returning to my initial point, away from my digression: I do, in fact, listen to and enjoy classical music, occasionally.  And I love hearing live performances of it.

One of my favorite pieces, by far, is Rachmaninoff’s Concerto Number 2. It’s one of those pieces that I will find running through my head sometimes, unexpectedly. Perhaps that just confirms that I’m a hopeless romantic sap, deep down inside. The picture, at left, is borrowed from the wikithing. It shows Rachmaninoff with a redwood tree in 1919.

What I’m listening to right now.

This youtube, above, is my favorite part – the first movement – apparently from a 1929 recording (!) in which Rachmaninoff himself played the piano with the Philadelphia Philharmonic. I also like the third movement, though, for which I found a different recording. I often find snippets of these two movements running through my brain.