This next piece is less than one hundred years old. It's hard to believe that, given the piece's near-constant use. Whenever there is a scene that requires high tension (or, y'know, is the opening montage of Jackass: The Movie), Carl Orff's "O Fortuna" from Carmina Burana always seems to pop up.
The family pet, Carl Arff (I'm sorry, I couldn't pass that one up)
Orff himself - one of the more long-lived composers featured thus far, living to the ripe old age of 88 - was born in 1895 in Munich, Germany. He took music lessons (piano, organ and cello) as a child, but found he was more drawn to composition. "Drawn to" may be one of the greater understatements I have typed thus far, as he was a published composer by the age of sixteen. In 1912, he finished composition of a piece called...
Wait for it...
Also Sprach Zarathustra. That's right. And in the Straussian tradition of epic grandeur, he scored the piece for baritone solo, three choruses and orchestra. This is all before he would have been able to drive on his own in New Jersey. In 1913, his first opera was completed, but with the oubreak of World War I, his musical aspirations were forgotten for the duration as he served in the German military. Once the war was over, he was free to create once again.
Seriously. I'm sorry about that first caption.
Orff is the first composer featured on this blog (but, of course, not nearly the first one in history) to be known - and known well - for more than just his compositions. He was a great lover of early theatre music, and could be seen to be part of the Baroque Opera revival with his adaptation of Monteverdi's 1607 opera L'Orfeo in 1925. More than that, however, he is known for what is now known as the "Orff Approach" to music education. Essentially, he viewed music education for children as a mix of music itself, movement and theatre, all of which was based off children's play. Many rhythmic instruments such as xylophones and other tuned percussion are used, and the focus is on imitation, exploration, improvisation and composition. Children learn about music by playing - not performing - but playing. Mistakes are allowed, and creativity is encouraged. There is no set 'method' for the Orff Approach, but its child-centered focus makes it a favorite in early-childhood centers.
Of course, Orff would not have been able to indulge himself with such vanity projects as music pedagogy and the revival of Baroque opera if he had not, as they say, "made it big." And make it big he did. In 1937, Carmina Burana was premiered at the Frankfurt Opera, and its instantly-memorable melodies (and, let's be real here, totally epic first movement) cemented Orff's place in the classical music canon.
Sometimes the Wheel of Fortune is on fire. That's just how life goes.
Carmina, based off a set of medieval poems in Latin and medieval German, is what Orff liked to call a "scenic cantata." Not quite an oratorio, not quite an opera, not quite a symphonic-work-with-choir, a scenic cantata is simply a staged work for singers with instrumental accompaniment. The difference here is that the cantata need not have a storyline. In Carmina, there are twenty-five movements split into five sections, with the overarching idea being the ever-turning Wheel of Fortune. Going with that motif, our main melody, "O Fortuna," opens and closes the cantata. The rest of the piece is not nearly as awe-inspiring - if nothing else, that would be exhausting for an hour or more - but 'takes place' in a meadow, a tavern, and even (*gasp*) in the bedroom. Nine of the movements deal directly with love, and four with drink. However, it is "O Fortuna," the complaint to Fate, that has given us goosebumps in Jackass, Cheaper by the Dozen, and The Bachelor.
Like the idea that 20th-century composers still looked to the 18th century or earlier for inspiration? Try the first part of "Pulcinella" by Igor Stravinsky*: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4KYuhfag5I
*yes, I know it's cheating since Stravinsky didn't do much more than arrange pieces by Pergolesi, Gallo and other 18th-century composers, but it's still nice to listen to.
But what about all of that important stuff like the language of the piece? I mean, aside from the fact that it is, at times, brilliantly crude, what about the fact that, at numerous times throughout, Orff changes the language of the piece -- not only between movements, but between phrases (hell, at times, even between words of the same sentence!)... If his O Fortuna weren't so timeless and brilliant (along with, oh yeah, some other parts of the million-movement piece, I guess), I'd say he was just copying and pasting lyrics from different things that he fancied at the time.
But what about all of that important stuff like the language of the piece? I mean, aside from the fact that it is, at times, brilliantly crude, what about the fact that, at numerous times throughout, Orff changes the language of the piece -- not only between movements, but between phrases (hell, at times, even between words of the same sentence!)... If his O Fortuna weren't so timeless and brilliant (along with, oh yeah, some other parts of the million-movement piece, I guess), I'd say he was just copying and pasting lyrics from different things that he fancied at the time.
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