A few years ago when I began my church organist job in Boston, I started a tradition of making a Badge of Completion to share with everyone involved in the church marathon that we call Holy Week. That includes clergy, musicians, church office staff, altar guild members, ushers, etc. We’ve all earned a little pat on the back, not to mention lots of chocolate!

This year’s badge features Grumpy Cat, the internet’s current favorite kitty, as you can see above!

Holy Week 2013 was a bit different for me, because instead of being Mistress of All I Survey as organist/choir director of a small but mighty choir in Boston, I was rocking the second alto section in a large choir in Pittsburgh. It was bittersweet this year; it’s wonderful to sing in a big choir, and it was nice not to have to be in charge of everything, but I did miss playing and being with our wonderful Boston friends. In both cases, McDoc was my favorite tenor!

Here we are afterwards, ready for the Easter Parade!

Here are the badges from previous years:

I Survived Holy Week 2012:

I Survived Holy Week 2011:

I Survived Holy Week 2010:

Oh, and I played in a handbell choir this year, too! Here we are playing on Maundy Thursday. I decided to record us on my phone at the last minute, which is why you hear us but don’t see us — the camera was pointed at the ceiling. That’s me playing the teeny tiny high-pitched bells!

And here is my absolute favorite Easter hymn, which I got to sing twice yesterday since there were two services. And that’s good, because it ain’t Easter until you sing it!

Happy Spring, music nerds, however you celebrate it!

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Thomas Merton, 1915-1968

• Catholic writer and mystic
• Trappist monk
• Poet, social activist, student of comparative religion

Retreat at St. Gregory’s

Monastic spiritual practice: not always relaxing:

Psalm 137:7-9
Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.

A Book of Hours: Merton’s writings arranged into readings/prayers for four times of day: Dawn, Day, Dusk, Dark

Tuesday Dusk: Simple as a Window
Wednesday Dawn: Huge, Unwounding Spirit
Thursday Day: Wild and Crazy Sheep
Saturday Dawn: Wisdom, the Mother of All

La Jolla Symphony and Chorus
Juliana Snapper, soprano
David Chase, conductor

University Teaching

• Tenure Track: nice work if you can get it
• Adjunct: would you like fries with that A?

My Cobblestone Career

• Adjunct teaching
• Private piano lessons (why I stopped)
• Accompanying: voice students, choirs, music theatre
• Church music

Day Jobs

• Music admin, music ed, IT, other skills or trades

Freelancing/Commissions

• Can you network/self-promote like a mofo?
• Collaboration: performers, conductors, visual artists, writers

Marry Rich

• Kidding not kidding: you need health insurance

My Blog

• Grammys
• Interviews
  Laurie Anderson
  Harrison Birtwistle

Margaret Cho
Steven Mackey
…and more

• Concert reviews: criticism sucks
  I just try to write a good story.

What New Music?
What is it today?

• Mandatory parameters?
  - “Originality”
  - Intellectual Rigor
  - Formalism/pre-composition
  - Absolute vs. programmatic
  - Does it have to hurt?
• What about…
  - Expression
  - Beauty
  - Fun
• Not either/or, but and, and, and…

Six years ago, on a cool and cloudy day in Irvine, California, I accompanied McDoc, then a fourth-year medical student, to his Match Day Ceremony. Every year in mid-March, soon-to-be MDs across the country find out where they’ll be doing their residency training. And many schools hold a ceremony where students can open their magic envelope and announce their assignment in front of gathered classmates, family and friends. Because med school isn’t stressful enough without a little public humiliation thrown in!

When McDoc’s turn came, he strode to the mic and cheerfully announced that he had matched to the Emergency Medicine program at Detroit Receiving Hospital — his first choice, the expressions on the faces of those Southern California kids was quite a sight to behold; the concept of someone moving to Detroit on purpose did not compute for them.

Well, it turns out that Emergency Medicine did not actually match McDoc, so two years later, he found a position in Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation, and we moved to Boston. I don’t regret our time in Detroit, but I loved Boston like Jesus loves sinners. We spent three wonderful years there, then after McDoc has finished his residency last June (hallelujah!), he entered a fellowship program here in Pittsburgh. He promises me that he’ll get a real doctor job after this… Our adventure continues!

Anyway, fourth-year med students all over are breathing a sigh of relief today, for even if they didn’t get their first choice of residency assignments, at least the nerve-wracking wait is over. Oh, just wait til you start your intern year, kiddoes — you don’t know from stress!

They say that music soothes the savage breast, and I think that applies to the stressed out one, too. I know it soothes the stressed out McDoc, anyway! So here are some medical-themed tunes for today, some of which are devoted to particular medical specialties.

Surgery:
Weird Al Yankovic – Like A Surgeon

Anesthesiology:
Amateur Transplants – Anaesthetist’s Hymn

New residents have only limited medical licenses, but they can write you one of these:
Iko-Iko – Prescription for The Blues

Always exercise caution when taking medications!
The Clovers – Love Potion No. 9

Don’t get too attached to your doctor — you might get sick!
Robert Palmer – Bad Case Of Lovin’ You (Doctor, Doctor)

Thompson Twins – Doctor Doctor

Knowing when to seek medical attention is important:
Ray Charles I Don’t Need No Doctor

Your turn, music nerds — What music cures what ails you?

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But this morning is a bit special because — whoa, there I am!!

Earlier this week, I visited the WQED studios and chatted with morning host Jim Cunningham about my blogging/composing/piano-playing adventures, and I played one of the pieces from my concert coming up this weekend. They’ve broadcast a couple of excerpts already this morning, and the whole interview will be online. I’ll post a link as soon as I have it! UPDATE: here it is!

Jim Cunningham very kindly gave me a tour of the studio. They have the tree from the set of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood!

See? I was really there! And so was Yo-Yo Ma, as you can see in the photo up above with Mr. Rogers. I had to settle for a picture of a picture of them, but it was still pretty exciting!

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I was very excited to return to Heinz Hall on Friday evening (after having lunch there on Thursday!) to hear the Pittsburgh Symphony, because if there’s one thing I love, besides McDoc and chocolate, it’s the music of Béla Bartók. I wish there were a searchlight that would light up and guide me anytime Bartòk’s music was being performed, kind of like the Bat Signal… a Béla Signal!

I knew I’d have to wait for the second half of the concert to hear Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra — one of my favorite pieces of his. But I didn’t mind; the first half featured two works by Mozart, and he’s no slouch either. Still, I was taking poor Wolfgang a little bit for granted as McDoc and I made our way through the lobby. “Serenade this, piano concerto that… whatever,” I thought.

Silly Miss Music Nerd!

Mozart’s Serenade No. 6 in D major for Two Small Orchestras, K. 239, “Serenata notturna,” was not only charming and delightful to hear, it was also fun to watch. The smaller of the two small orchestras is actually a group of four soloists: two violins, viola and double bass, and the players made a semi-circle around the conductor’s podium as if around a campfire. Or a water-cooler. Or maybe a chocolate fondue fountain. Mmm…

Anyway, they were clearly having a good time, especially the first violinist and the violist, who were frequently paired in the music’s texture. At one point it occurred to me that I was hearing the classical music equivalent of a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers dance routine.

Here is a playlist with the Serenade’s three movements:

The Concerto No. 15 in B flat major for Piano and Orchestra, K. 450 was equally delightful, adding pianist Shai Wosner‘s graceful playing into the mix. I especially loved the second movement, with its surprisingly short orchestral introduction to the solo piano opening, and its sweet ending with piano and orchestra together. From the way Mr. Wosner moved a bit during the orchestral breaks, you could tell that he has also conducted concerto performances from the keyboard.

Speaking of conductors, Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos was a treat to watch. He’s the kind of conductor who eschews large bombastic movements in favor of efficient, understated gestures. Sometimes he would simply point, as if to say, “You, and you, and you over there!” And the orchestra responded smartly.

Here’s a playlist of the piano concerto:

After intermission, it was time for the big guns. One of the really cool things about the Concerto for Orchestra is the way it gives all the instruments of the orchestra a turn in the spotlight. The second movement opens very sparsely, with snare drum and a pair of bassoons, followed by oboes and clarinets in turn. And the third movement begins with a timpani-double bass pairing, soon joined by a plaintive, desolate oboe repeating a single note while clarinet, flute and harp shiver in the background.

The first movement starts out starkly too, with an ascending perfect 4th theme in the double basses (decades before Star Trek made that interval iconic!). Then the instruments gradually accumulate as a low, menacing phrase repeats with increasing speed. It’s menacing because it outlines the interval of a tritone: the devil in music! It makes your hair stand on end — in a good way. That’s what I came here for, baby!

Here are all five movements of the Concerto for Orchestra:

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During my scheduled time today, I decided to do a straight run-through of my whole piece. I didn’t feel quite ready to do so, but that was sort of the point — I wanted to see exactly where the trouble spots were going to pop up in the context where I have to keep going no matter what. I wanted to make myself nervous so I could get used to it before it arose naturally on performance day.

Hoo boy, it was a bit rough! One thing that’s always annoying is when you stumble over a passage that’s usually easy. Lately I’ve been practicing the hard bits extra-diligently, and I know I’ve been taking some of the easier portions for granted. So that was frustrating… And to make it more so, some of the hard parts that I had really worked on came out rocky too — grrr! (Though others went well — go me!)

As I got into the last sections of the piece, I realized that I had become a bit demoralized and uninspired, and as a result, I was just sort of playing measures rather than making music. I galumphed over the finish line, because that’s what you have to do, and then I heaved a heavy sigh and started to daydream about cookies.

It was the kind of moment when I really needed someone to burst in and say something along these lines:

But this isn’t a movie, and I’m an army of one, without a general or a coach or a Muppet to whip me into battle-readiness (McDoc was at work.)

But I do have Twitter.

Earlier in the day, I had tweeted this:

Counting down the days to my recital on 3/17! Please send good practicing vibes if you can spare them! fb.me/DsyfdtJv

— Miss Music Nerd (@MissMusicNerd) March 11, 2013

And just at the moment when I was feeling pretty low, this reply came through on my phone:

@missmusicnerd I don’t practice any more, so I have plenty of vibes to lend you!

— Christian Hertzog (@hertzogsays) March 11, 2013

Now, I suspect my friend may be exaggerating when he says “never,” because I happen to know that he is occasionally spotted playing toy pianos and other fun things. But like most of us crazy, struggling musicians who didn’t have the good sense to inherit vast wealth, he has a number of irons in the fire, and I know how that can get in the way of sitting down to play on a regular basis.

I myself have gone for embarrassingly long stretches without practicing. I’m the type who needs a deadline if I’m to have any hope of accomplishing anything. A fearsome authority figure and the threat of public humiliation can help, too, but over time I have managed to develop some resistance even to such extreme productivity aids. Because in addition to there just being a lot to do to get through adult life, I have the typical self-sabotaging tendencies of any career depressive worth her salt.

I could just stop. I don’t have to give recitals. I could just write music and try to con other people into playing it. I don’t even have to write music, for that matter. I could just get a day job and be a moderately accomplished music-lover in my spare time. It would be the sensible choice, both financially and anxiety-wise.

But I can’t do it. I can’t stop. I realized this afternoon, sitting in a cavernous, dimly lit church, that I want to play the piano for the rest of my life, in whatever context and proportion I can manage. When I can no longer walk. I want my wheelchair pushed up to the keyboard, even if all I can do is drool on it. I want to play the piano on the day I die: I want my hospital bed wheeled up to it and my limp hand propped up on the keys. If I die in that position, I’ll be perfectly happy.

I’ve never been, and will never be, a great pianist. But I am a pretty good one. And I won’t give up playing, even if the throngs of meanies who say I should aren’t only in my head. I will play as long as I draw breath.

And I will practice every day this week, and I will perform on Sunday, and it will go how it goes, and some people will like it and others might not. Then McDoc and I will go out to dinner, and then I’ll come home and pet my cat. Ain’t life grand?

What do you love doing so much that you’ll keep at it til they carry you away in a box?

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So, where did you have lunch today, Miss Music Nerd?

Why, at the Symphony, of course — where else?!

Earlier this morning, I was minding my own business, drinking coffee and reading the internet like a good modern-day bohemian, when McDoc called me to say he had heard a violinist from the Pittsburgh Symphony interviewed on the radio on his way to work, and that she was giving a lunchtime performance today. Naturally, I hightailed it down to Heinz Hall to check it out.

The violinist in question was Alison Peters Fujito, a member of the PSO’s first violin section, and the event was part of Music 101, a series of informal lecture/performances organized by the Pittsburgh Symphony Association. When I heard the term “PSA” used by its members as I chatted with them prior to the lecture, I asked if it stood for “Pittsburgh Symphony Admirers.” They said maybe it should!

Ms. Peters Fujito titled her talk “Never Say Never,” since the story of how she came to be a professional violinist included several of what she called “never” moments. “We all have ‘never’ moments in our lives,” she added. Ain’t that the truth?

The most dramatic such moment for her was when she suffered a shoulder injury after being struck by a car while riding her bicycle. Recovering from that injury kept her out of orchestral playing for a year and a half, but through a diligent process of physical therapy, along with keeping her fingers limber using her daughter’s 1/16 size violin, she has been able to return to full function.

But that wasn’t the first bump in the road for her, though her story refutes what she called the “common misconception” that a violinist must come from a musical family and begin playing by age 4 in order to succeed. She started violin lessons as an 8-year-old, at her mother’s encouragement, but didn’t love it; she was more interested in the “gleaming Steinway” in her violin teacher’s studio. A beginning violinist’s first efforts “don’t always sound pretty,” she said, but she enjoyed picking out scales on the piano. Her teacher was not amused, though, and told her mother she was “unteachable.”

She tried violin lessons again at age 11, but still didn’t like it much. What made all the difference for her was the music program at her high school, taught by Mr. Ackerman, who she referred to as a real-life Mr. Holland. He was a violist (viola power!) who turned down a position with the St. Louis Symphony in favor of teaching, which at the time offered a better living for him and his family.

Because of this teacher and this school program, Ms. Peters Fujito was introduced to ensemble playing — full orchestra, string orchestra, chamber music, the works! Saturdays were spent playing string quartets instead of hanging out at the mall. At her first orchestral concert, it hit her that “this is what I want to do!” …And then her stand partner nudged her to keep playing!

But another “never” moment occurred during her senior year as a violin major at the University of Cincinnati. A conductor told her, “You don’t have what it takes” to be a professional. She figured she was done, and told her violin teacher so. But she still had a senior recital to give, and decided to give it her all, so as not to go out “with her tail between her legs.”

Her teacher suggested she learn the Sonata No. 4 by Eugène Ysaÿe, from his set of six unaccompanied violin sonatas inspired by similar works of J.S. Bach. “Something kicked in while learning it,” she said, and “next thing I knew, I was getting a Master of Music at Juilliard!”

Ms. Peters Fujito performed the Ysaÿe sonata for us this afternoon. She related how the early 20th-century Belgian violinist, composer and conductor was inspired to write his six sonatas after hearing Joseph Szigeti one of the Bach pieces. Ysaÿe “locked himself in his room overnight,” she said, sketching out ideas for his pieces, then completing them within a few days. They’re like “Bach on steroids,” she said describing how they were completed in 1923, during the Jazz Age, and though not literally jazzy, they are very improvisatory.

I didn’t get a field recording of Ms. Peters Fujito’s performance, but here is the Ysaÿe sonata played by Judith Ingolfsson.

Another “never” moment that Ms. Peters Fujito relayed was her audition for the Detroit Symphony early in her career. The judges thought she played well, but didn’t like her sound — a product of playing on a not-great instrument. She told them she needed to get a good job before she could buy a great instrument, and they let her know that it’s common practice to borrow an instrument for important occasions such as a major audition. Another instance where a “never’ moment turned into a vital learning experience!

Eventually she did acquire a much better violin, and won the audition for the Pittsburgh Symphony, which came with a good salary and one day off per week — not something a professional player can always count on! When she told her mother about the job and its perks, she found out that her mother still harbored hopes of her going to medical school; she had always encouraged violin study, but feared her daughter would starve if she made it her career. “You can take your science courses on your day off,” she said!

Instead, she married a chemistry professor. Music and science make a good team, as McDoc and I can tell you!

At the end of her talk, an audience member asked what that conductor from her college days had to say after her senior recital. She replied that they hadn’t talked, though she had been tempted over the years to let him know how she was doing!

I found Ms. Peters Fujito’s story both inspiring and moving; I have had a few “never” moments myself, and I resolve now to see the past ones as learning experiences and the future ones as opportunities. I also see this as a cautionary tale for music educators, having been on both sides of that relationship: what an educator says to a student can have a life-long impact, so it’s vital that educators take exquisite care in giving feedback and guidance to students. Sadly, humans too often act from negative states — impatience, egotism, envy, what have you — with lasting bad effects.

By the way, Ms. Peters Fujito also mentioned that Eugène Ysaÿe was dismissed from the Conservatory of Liège at one point, for “lack of progress.” The rest, as they say, is history!

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A Book of Hours
Presented by Music at Calvary
Sunday, March 17, 4 p.m.
Calvary Episcopal Church
315 Shady Avenue
Pittsburgh, PA 15206 (map)
Admission free; offerings gratefully accepted.

Here are a few excerpts, and more information about the piece is below.

About A Book of Hours

In 2008, I went on retreat at an Espicopal Benedictine monastery, at the invitation of my husband, who had a long-standing interest in monastic spirituality and practice (though he lacked a calling to monastic vows, fortunately for me!). The monks follow a centuries-old practice referred to as the Liturgy of the Hours or the Divine Office, which involves praying at set times per day, chanting psalms and other sacred texts in a prescribed cycle.

After my experience with the monks’ routine, I sought out resources to continue a simplified form of their practice on my own. I discovered a prayer book called A Book of Hours” target=”_blank”>A Book of Hours, edited by Sister Kathleen Deignan. The book organizes writings of Thomas Merton, a 20th-century monk, poet and peace activist, into prayers for each day of the week at four times of day: Dawn, Day, Dusk, and Dark. I was inspired by the texts to compose a cycle of twenty-eight piano pieces, one for each day and hour.

Like the psalms chanted by the monks during their daily prayers, Merton’s writings depict a broad range of human emotion and experience, from joy to rage, humor to despair, introspection to exultation. I sought to capture those varying moods in my music. The performance includes recitation of short excerpts from the text alternating with musical responses.

I hope you enjoy it!

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Every once in a while, a live performance goes beyond just being enjoyable and actually seems to permeate my body like a magic beam, giving me chills and making me sway in my seat. It’s as if, while playing the music, the performers are also playing me. (That may sound weird, but… what do you expect around here? )

And that’s just what happened last night when Renée Fleming sang George Gershwin’s “Summertime” as the first of three encores at the end of the electrifying recital she gave in the town where she was born. The next time the vicissitudes of life make me feel jaded and disconnected from my love for music, I hope I will look back on her performance of this song and be reminded of what it’s really all about.

“Summertime” from The Art of Renee Fleming

But I’m getting ahead of myself! A couple of weeks ago, McDoc mentioned to a coworker that I had just attended the Grammy Awards (he loves to brag on me — isn’t he sweet? ), and his coworker told him that Grammy-winning soprano Renée Fleming was giving a recital in our neck of the woods (give or take a 1 1/4 hour drive), which is certainly not something that happens every weekend. We decided we’d better listen to what the universe was telling us, and get to that recital! And so last night, we did.

We made the trek from Pittsburgh to Indiana… Indiana, Pennsylvania, that is, home to, of course, Indiana University of Pennsylvania. Are you confused yet? I know I am! If it helps any, there is also a California, Pennsylvania with a similarly named university. Actually, I don’t think that helps…

Anyway, it turns out that Indiana, PA is Renée Fleming’s birthplace, and both her parents graduated from IUP’s music program in 1959. In fact, she gave her recital on the very stage where her parents had performed as students. That is pretty darn cool! Her father attended last night’s performance, along with a group of about 30 other family members… Oh, and the governor and first lady of Pennsylvania, too. It was kind of a big deal!

The program was wonderfully varied and dynamic, ranging from Handel arias to selections from A Streetcar Named Desire, André Previn’s opera based on the Tennessee Williams play, with a healthy dose of romanticism and impressionism in between. Ms. Fleming took several opportunities to speak to the audience about the music, with an easy, engaging stage presence that complemented her dazzling yet warm performance style. At one point she asked the audience, “Can you see the texts?” because she wanted to make sure we knew what she was singing about.

The program opened with four Handel arias: “Oh sleep, why dost thou leave me?” and “Endless pleasure” from Semele, “To fleeting pleasures make your court” from Samson, and “Calm thou, my soul” from Alexander Balus. Speaking about these arias, Ms. Fleming said she felt Handel’s music was very modern, even though it was written 300 years ago, because of the subject matter: unrequited love, hedonism, seduction. Referring to the aria from Samson, where Delila attempts to win back the man she had betrayed, Ms. Fleming quipped, “It’s not the good girls who are remembered.”

Next came quite a contrast in three songs by Richard Strauss: “Stänchen,” “Morgen” and “Zueignung.” Ms. Fleming told the audience that Strauss wrote “Morgen” (Tomorrow) as a wedding gift for his wife, and the text certainly fits:

And tomorrow the sun will shine again
and on the path that I shall take,
it will unite us, happy ones, again
upon this sun-breathing earth,

and to the shore, broad, blue-waved,
we shall, quiet and slow, descend
silent, into each other’s eyes we’ll gaze
and on us will fall joy’s speechless silence…

I loved the way Ms. Fleming reveled in Strauss’s luscious romanticism, And pianist Richard Bado literally made the piano rock with the cascading chords of “Zueignung” (Dedication).

“Zueignung,” from Strauss: Four Last Songs

I was excited to hear excerpts from Previn’s Streetcar. It was premiered 15 years ago by the San Francisco Opera, and Ms. Fleming originated the role of Blanche DuBois in that production. She will reprise the role later this month at New York’s Carnegie Hall, and with the Lyric Opera of Chicago. The music is at turns jazz-inflected and angular, and hearing these excerpts made me want to hear the complete work.

Here’s a playlist with the arias Ms. Fleming performed, from the San Francisco Opera recording:

The second half of the program took us to French and Italian territory. Four songs by Claude Debussy on texts by Paul Verlaine stood out to me on the program as music that really fit Ms. Fleming like a glove, showcasing her voice at its smoothest and most sublime. She described them as “the perfect marriage of music and poetry.” The songs showed her dramatic range, too, from “Il pleure dans mon cœur” (There is weeping in my heart), which is as good a description of depression as I’ve ever encountered, to “Mandoline,” a joyful, mischievous romp, providing one of a few moments during the evening where Ms. Fleming literally hopped up and down.

“Mandoline,” from Night Songs

Next, Ms. Fleming performed three songs from Joseph Canteloube’s charming Chants d’Auvergne, with texts in Occitan, a Romance language spoken in parts of southern France, Italy and Spain.

“Baïlèro,” from Renee Fleming – The Beautiful Voice

It seemed only natural on this occasion that Ms. Fleming sing the beloved Puccini aria “O mio babbino caro” (Oh My Beloved Father), what with her father in attendance and all. Before singing it, she told a story about finding a photo of her parents taken in Indiana, holding her as a baby. She expressed gratitude for the music education they received at IUP, and how it contributed to “creating a monster — me!”

“O mio babbino caro” from The Art of Renee Fleming

At the end of the performance, the audience was on its feet. I talked about the first encore above, and Ms. Fleming didn’t stop there. During her second encore, “I could have danced all night” from My Fair Lady, she invited the audience to sing along, which they did with zest. Finally, she closed with “Danny Boy,” and there was many a moist eye in the house!

Here, by the way, is a playlist of Ms. Fleming’s recording Poèmes, which won Best Vocal Solo at the 55th Grammy Awards.

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Aaaaah.

McDoc and I are about to dash off to Indiana, PA to hear a recital by Grammy-winning soprano Renée Fleming — am I excited, or what? But first, as a teaser to a future post where I’ll regale you with stories of my behind-the-scenes adventures accompanied by so-so smartphone photos, here are links to my posts at grammy.com for the 55th season!

Most recently, my wrap-up of this year’s winners:
55th GRAMMY Awards Honors Cutting-Edge Classical

My Grammy fairy godmothers asked all of the genre bloggers to write a post highlighting an aspect of their genre that was important to them. I chose to write about the fantastic experience of hearing classical music live, which may be preaching to the choir here, I know, but I hope to inspire those who may not have darkened the doors of a concert hall lately:
Classical Music: You’ve Gotta Hear It Live!

Here’s a run-down of this year’s classical nominees:
Classical Dazzles With Old Favorites And Surprises

And here is my attempt at capturing the state of classical music at the end of 2012, which is not something that can be done in 500 words or less, but one can but try:
Classical Is Alive And Kicking In 2012

Finally, the Spotify playlists for this year’s nominees (some nominated recordings weren’t on Spotify last time I checked, but these will keep you listening for a good long while!)

55th GRAMMY Classical Nominees Playlist

55th GRAMMY Best Opera Nominees Playlist

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