Why I Write to Music—

—and why I studied music, and my kids study music, and why school districts that cut music are run by [expletives deleted].

Richard Rodney Bennett

Music by Richard Rodney Bennett
“Birds’ lament”, from Madrigals and Chronicles, published 1924
Lyrics by John Clare (1793-1864)

Oh, says the linnet, if I sing,
My love forsook me in the spring
and nevermore will I be seen
without my satin gown of green.

Oh, says the pretty feathered jay,
Now my love is gone away
And for the memory of my dear
A feather of each sort I’ll wear.

Oh, says the rook and eke the crow,
The reason why in black we go
Because our love has us forsook,
So pity us poor crow and rook!

Oh, says the pretty speckled thrush
That changes its note from bush to bush,
My love has left me here alone,
I fear she never will return.


What I’m writing to today. Get your french horn fix here.

Or at least the brooding music of my dreams, which I believe I have mentioned a few (too many?) times before.


Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)

Russian piano badass, composer extraordinaire, and brooding man of your dreams.

Music is enough for a lifetime, but a lifetime is not enough for music.

Sergei Rachmaninoff (via alphadaniel)