I’m talking, of course, about The Ren & Stimpy Show, everyone’s favorite adult-oriented animated series for kids. The concepts in this 1990s cartoon were so crude and vile that it’s a wonder that it ever got the OK from Nickelodeon to air. But creator John Kricfalusi (“John K.” as credited on the show) wasn’t an idiot – in fact, he was far from it. Maybe insane genius is more appropriate. He seems to have found a unique way to get kids to appreciate music, and that was good news for the music community. Behind all the farting, hair licking, and whizzing on electric fences, Ren & Stimpy offered up a soundtrack for the ages (comprised of both well-known existing works and original compositions). The juxtaposition of the animated debauchery with, say, “The Toy Trumpet” is so jarring and yet so unbelievably appropriate that you have no choice but to appreciate the creative executions that the series put forth.

Mixing classical music with cartoons wasn’t a new concept when R&S came out, of course. In 1940, Fantasia was released by Walt Disney, which was undoubtedly a cinematic masterpiece in its efforts to bring life to works of Bach, Stravinsky, Schubert, and a host of other composers of note. Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies followed suit, with a more lighthearted approach, by introducing familiar characters and intertwining complex musical scores to help facilitate the storylines. These animated works all took music and matched it to images you’d “expect” to see. But Ren & Stimpy completely redefined this practice. It turns every perception you’ve ever had about classical music on its head.

You probably won't be learning this in music class.

The truth is, musical perceptions are highly contextual. If nothing else, Ren & Stimpy proves this by mixing its accompaniment with “inappropriate” storylines. Logic tells us that, for example, Tchaikovsky and the concept of marrying a chicken are two entities that wouldn’t blend well. Certainly, Tchaikovsky is too pure, too deeply rooted in music history to be associated with such child’s play! And yet, John K. was able to understand that the music can take on any meaning it desires. Did he ruin Tchaikovsky by associating the composer with this nonsense? Not at all, I would argue. Rather, he highlights the versatility that such an artist is able provide in his music.

Kids probably won’t appreciate the artistic genius behind these creative decisions, but that does not mean that the series is of no value to the musical enrichment of children. Grade schoolers by nature have low attention spans; we cannot expect them to sit through a three-hour concert and appreciate the music quietly and respectfully. But we can expect that they will take the music in stride when it is married to silly cartoons. So maybe parents should re-consider what kind of programming is valuable to children and what kind is harmful. The Ren & Stimpy Show may have helped kids build an appreciation for music without them realizing it. Then, when little Billy enters middle school and Teacher places a clarinet in his hands, he knows what it’s all about. And what it’s capable of. And what he’s capable of.

And that’s pretty awesome.

In other news, I’m happy to be on board to contribute to SmarterMusic! Hooray music!

I cannot imagine a more captivating talk on music appreciation — he accomplishes so much in a very very short time period.

This head is not Haydn's, but has another interesting trait. Ten points to the one who spots it!

You know, the one that was severed by graverobbers trying to associate his cranial topology with intellectual capacity?

The process of stealing the head was, apparently, not pleasant, since decomposition had set in and the smell was strong (Ed. note: @!!?!?!?!) However, Peter and Rosenbaum succeeded in cleaning the skull and duly carried out their phrenological examination. Peter declared that “the bump of music” in Haydn’s skull was indeed “fully developed”. Afterward, Peter kept it in a handsome custom-made black wooden box, with a symbolic golden lyre at the top, glass windows, and a white cushion.

Quite seriously, Haydn’s skull was pilfered, measured, passed around, hidden in a mattress, left behind for musicologists to show off at dinner parties (I am reminded of a certain fellow by the name of Hannibal), and ultimately only found its way back to the decayed corpse of Haydn in 1954.  Nineteen Fifty Four.  In other words, for well over a century, the disembodied head of the highly esteemed father of the (Big-C) Classical symphony and the string quartet was being paraded around and gawked at by esteemed musicians at the esteemed Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna.  I am not making this up.  It is entirely plausible that Brahms was able to poke his fingers through poor Haydn’s eye sockets, and giggle, even if it’s more amusing than it is likely.  But if he did, he certainly would have done it with esteem.

In penance for posting a purely Wiki account (however awesomely entertaining it might be), I’ll provide you with Haydn’s Symphony No. 1, composed 1759 or so.  The fledging form of the symphony was actually something rather new-fangled; the ripieno concerto is probably the closest thing we had previously.  It sounds a tad ricky-ticky by even Mozartian standards, but remember what a revolution even its grand opening Mannheim crescendo represented.  Only three movements here (as the form was modeled largely after the three-movement opera sinfonias of the period), but still following a general fast-slow-fast pattern.  Notice the melody + harmony textural characteristic — Haydn was unafraid of punctuating his counterpoint with full-fledged chords, a far cry from the even- but heavy-handed approach of many Baroque composers.  Some day, I fully intend to learn to reliably realize figured bass, but that’s more a back-burner goal; I think we’re all rather pleased to see the continuo vanish.

In 1759, George Washington got married, and in 1954, the Soviets went nuclear.  Sidebar: Who uses the term “eye” to refer to the burner on the stove?

Good old Ludwig van

Beethoven‘s Third Symphony, “Eroica” has quite the interesting story behind it, and is often cited as a landmark composition which separated the Classical era to the Romantic.  It expanded tremendously on the symphonic form, and was many times longer than a comparable symphony by Mozart or Haydn.  The excellent San Francisco Symphony — at Keeping Score — has a sensational Flash-based analysis of the history of the work, as well as a superb multimedia score-reading section.  Additionally, composer W. A. DeWitt of Colorado has put together a thorough measure-by-measure analysis at his dedicated website.  It’s a tad long, but very thorough, and the piano reduction is written in!  Highly recommended, most certainly!

Meantime, Chip is downstairs playing some piano –and doing pretty ridiculously well.  He’s a better sight-reader than I am I think, blast him.