gli enimmi di turandot

dal "The Atheist Codger's Symphony Series no. 34: Mendelssohn "Scottish" Symphony"

Keep your ears on the cellos. That gorgeous melody that they just conjured seemingly out of thin air is going to continue into the recapitulation. (mvt. 1) Wasn't that a suave approach to the recapitulation? (mvt. 1)

It's possible I've heard more wonderful music, but I can't at the moment remember when. (mvt. 1)

This ambiguous diminished 7th chord heralds the gathering of a storm at sea. The wind howls (the winds howl). Strings in octave provide great chromatic swells. (mvt. 1)

The chromatic swells are overlapped. This is about as terrifying an orchestral effect as Mendelssohn ever managed. (mvt. 1)

The consequent phrase is in two subphrases. The first is a melody of transcendent beauty that first folds into itself and then expands into warm-sounding subdominant territory. The consequent's second subphrase sounds like an embrace of the whole world. (mvt. 3)

[...] treble woodwinds soon offer a simple but profoundly affecting [è precisamente così] countermelody. (mvt. 3)

[...] this glorious consequent phrase is this time permitted to end as we would expect, in contrast to its treatment during the exposition. (mvt. 3)

[...] a reiterated bridge passage of both urgency and transcendent beauty. (mvt. 3)

The harmony is restless, its chromatic burden continually stirred by turbid orchestral waters. (mvt. 4)

[...] the wind goes out of the music's sails [...] (mvt. 4)

The horn writing is thrilling! Its third phrase is worked out at length and finally achieves glorious closure on the A-major tonic. (mvt. 4)

(quest'uomo, lo ripeto, è un poeta)

dalla "visita guidata alla seconda sinfonia di schumann" di mr. david goza, formerly known as the atheist codger:

doesn't this music just glow? (3 mvt) this music hovers very close to tears (3 mvt) there are also days when i really, really wish i were a timpanist! (4 mvt, finale)

quell'uomo è gandalf un poeta

onde invereconde così tante cose belle portan via, che tu ci perdi così tante trebisonde ma tre-bis uguale sei onde sei, non più onde eri non ancora onde sarai, ché tutto passa tutto scorre sopra l'onde tremebonde ma per nulla moribonde (eppur: grandi bara- onde, fanno l'onde)