I've really enjoyed reading the several accounts by people who were
deliberately or inadvertently exposed to classical music in their youth
by their parents, and who, regardless of their other musical interests
or even temporary cessation of interest in classical music (during, say,
adolescence), have maintained or returned to their interest.  My
five-year-old son shows some musical talent and much interest, and has been
playing violin for a year.  He's just made it past the five variations of
"twinkle" and is learning "Lightly Row." I'm no stage-mother but I do a lot
to foster his interest.  I was, I admit, quite thrilled yesterday when we
were listening to a divine piece by Marin Marais (Suite for Viola da gamba,
Book Three), and he told me it was a cello, not a violin.  I was impressed.
Then he said "maybe it's the G-string on the violin." Impressed again, that
he related the lower string to the cello, that he remembered it at all
since he doesn't play on it yet.  He concluded it was a cello.  (I decided
to wait to tell him about the Viola da gamba.) Many of your comments have
made me realize how invaluable a gift we are giving him (or enhancing).
Now my 2.5 y.o.  is saying he wants his violin too, that he too needs to
"plactice."

I was also moved by reading another mother's account (I apologize for not
keeping track of names--my inbox is flooded with posts on this thread)
of having been falsely deemed tone-deaf in her youth.  My own story is
somewhat different.  I'd enjoyed classical music intermittently throughout
my life until the last several years, during which I've been incessantly
listening to, attending concerts, and researching classical music.  About
a year ago I started attending performances of choral music in local
churches, arriving early enough to sit in the first few pews---just feet
away from the violins.  I didn't know why I had a perpetual lump in my
throat and had to hold back tears until I realized, after several
performances, that I wanted to play violin.

And that, though grown (and "past it"), I felt some brief, renewed anger
at my father--a musician--for not having had me trained, even though he
often acknowledged my musical talent and interest.  What did he think it
meant that I used to stack four or five classical records on the arm of
my turntable each night before going to sleep? But he was a "popular"
recording (record dates and jingles) musician in NYC and, I now realize,
intimidated by classical music.  So, although initially begun to accompany
my son, I now take lessons for myself.  At age 40 my hands are old and dumb
and it takes me a long time to work through a new piece (I'm struggling to
assimilate those alternating upbow/downbow slurs that cross strings on
Minuet 3!), but all I ask for is a measure of musical gratification.  Maybe
in five years or so, I think to myself, I'll be able to play with someone
else.  To the young people on this list--and I'm happy there seem to be
some--follow the conventional wisdom: learn while you're young.

For me, personal history is relevant to favorite works of music.  When my
husband and I were in graduate school at UCLA and had no money at all for
CDs, I had this beat-up little budget-cassette of Mozart's Symphony #40 and
Schubert's "Unfinished Symphony" or #8.  I loved it so much that it was in
my permanently housed in my aging tape deck.  I never even knew which piece
was Mozart's and which was Schubert's.  I never looked.  Just used to play
it over and over again.  Now I know which is which now, and why those two
symphonies were paired together.  I have CDs now to replace the tape that
no longer plays but have kept as it brings back great memories.  Symphony
#40 will always be one of my favorites, along with Piano Concerto #20 (esp.
the second move- ment) and the Requiem Mass--all proto-romantic pieces, in
my opinion.

But I also remember the first time I heard the Brandenburg Concertos and
thought that whomever had composed them (didn't know it was JSB at the
time) had just opened his eyes to the beauty of the world for the first
time.  And the first time I heard Goldberg Variations (transcribed for
strings, as it turned out) and was rendered utterly speechless--am still
astonished when I listen to it.  But maybe my love for Bach and baroque
music dates back to a romantic encounter that began with Toccata and Fugue
in D Minor.

Now that I have two dinosaur-boys tearing around my formerly well-ordered
home, I find myself going back in time to the late-17th/early-18th
century baroque period, in need of Corelli, Albinoni, Locatelli (minus
the capriccios), Geminiani, Vivaldi (minus "The Four Seasons") Marais,
Couperin, Rameau, Sammartini, Reincken, Benda, J.  Stamitz, et.  al.  And
on a final note, I'd like to add that I first heard many of these composers
on the best classical radio station I've ever listened to: KMFA in Austin,
TX, a commercial free, subscriber-supported station that has subdued yet
informative announcers, a wide variety of specialized programs, and plays
an incredibly interesting range of classical music.  I actually carry
around with a radio walkman and a microcassette recorder to keep track of
all the names of composers/works I hear each day.  They're planning to have
web-broadcasting some time in the future.  Until then, those interested can
view their playlist at the website: www.kmfa.org.

"Jayne Willingham" <[log in to unmask]>