The most recommended classical music books

Most fantasies are set in a quasi-medieval landscape, but Hunt has chosen a deliciously different canvas: the Wild West. His hero is Ross, the estranged son of a famous fantasy author. When dear old dad is murdered, Ross grudgingly attends the funeral organized by the fantasy geeks and role-playing nerds who loved the old man's books. That much, he can handle. But being told that the fantastical world described in those books is real? No way! That disbelief is shattered, though, when Ross himself crosses over and is quickly drawn into the hunt for his father's killer in a nightmare world of gunslingers and monsters where the rules make no sense.

And to make matters worse: he hasn't read the books.

Listen to the Birds is part of the series An Introduction to Classical Music. Author Ana Gerhard chooses a different theme for each book and then puts together a collection of songs by various composers which is related to that theme. What a great idea! The included CD only gives you excerpts from the pieces, but that is probably because it is meant as an “intro” to classical music for a younger audience with a shorter attention span. I would recommend despite this downside, since further listening can always be done separately from the book if the readers are interested to hear more.

Not only is Itzhak Perlman considered to be one of the world’s best violinists, he’s also a powerful role model for overcoming adversity.

Growing up, when I listened to Itzhak Perlman’s recordings, I didn’t know that as a young boy, he suffered from polio. So, when I saw him perform for the first time, I didn’t expect to see him enter the stage in a wheelchair. As I marveled at the silvery tone of his violin, I wondered how he navigated through concert halls designed without the physically disabled in mind.

What I love most about this book is that it drives home an important point. Itzhak’s fiery passion for the violin has never been compromised by his disability.

The author and illustrator's notes explain the importance of the changes Itzhak has made to the field of classical music. In Itzhak’s own words, he explains how and why he has… show more.

Practically every page of this book has something fascinating to say about music, and Denk has an appealing, charming, often funny voice that one doesn’t often encounter in books about classical music.

As an amateur pianist I learned more about technique from Denk than I ever expected from a memoir, from how to use my thumb “as a transit system” to rolling chords at different speeds as if I were “unrolling a carpet.”

He teaches us how to listen more acutely to the messages in music, whether it’s Bach, Mendelssohn, Mozart, Chopin, or Philip Glass, and page by page, he shines a new light on the music we think we know and how an artist approaches it.

Of course, the entire notion of a ferocious enmity between Mozart and Salieri is fiction. They were actually friends and once even collaborated on a short cantata, Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia [On the Recovery of the Health of Ofelia].

However, the story is a marvelous conception, seasoned by the central idea that the envious Salieri somehow ruined Mozart and drove him to his death (from overwork — also quite fictitious!). It truly “works” literarily. The play goes even further, accentuating the overbearing political influence of Italian musicians in the court.

I recommend the script of the play (from which the movie derived) so that the reader can get an even deeper appreciation for Salieri’s villainous character—and I can also recommend the award-winning movie!

Intense and intricate with complex human interactions subjected to the forces of history and destiny, Canone Inverso is both literary fiction and mystery. This gripping tale of evolving relationships centers around the field of classical music and a particular violin. With the setting in Germany, Austria, and Hungary during the turbulent 1930s and ’40s, a brilliant, working-class young violinist is secluded in a prison-like music conservatory with an aristocratic boy who befriends him. Gradually, their bond is severely tested. What is genius? What is friendship? What is the price paid for beauty and greatness? These are some of the issues we’re confronted with in this riveting novel.

As a musician, I was initially intrigued by the title. I soon realized that Richard Powers would interweave his characters’ love of classical music with complex issues of race within a family. The parents-to-be meet in 1939 at the historic outdoor concert featuring singer Marian Anderson, who really was denied the best concert hall. He is a German-Jewish refugee; she is an African American music student. Can love withstand society’s pressures tearing Whites and Blacks apart? Can the parents’ idealism protect their children?

The narrator moves back and forth between the parents’ and children’s stories, from the 1940s through the 60s, against the backdrop of world and national events. This is a panoramic and subtle novel by an author willing to be vulnerable by entering deeply into his characters’ multicolored skins.

This is a great little book for introducing younger readers to their first pieces of classical music. Although it is meant for a younger audience, there are many anecdotes that slightly older readers will also enjoy. The accompanying music is available in both a CD and an online version. The recordings are from Naxos which has an excellent music library of top-notch performances. A great value!

This is actually not one book but a five-volume (!) series of books which contains some of the best writing on classical music I’ve ever come across.

Taruskin, who passed away recently, was a legendary musicologist. In his writings, he managed to combine analytic writing that addresses his colleagues with unbelievably sharp and insightful writing that I, as a classical music fan who is not a pro, enjoy tremendously.

Taruskin loved picking intellectual fights, and this sort of combative energy is gripping. In this series, there are major story arcs like the interplay between “oral” and “literate” traditions or the role of nationalism in 19th-century music. I liked how Tarsukin switches smoothly between a close analysis of a piece and a discussion of how it relates to the wider culture.

I suspect I’ll raise a few eyebrows with this recommendation, notwithstanding the Amazon series it spawned (which ran for four seasons).

The book was not uniformly applauded, and it is difficult to know how accurate certain details are, given Tindall’s use of more than thirty pseudonyms and numerous denials from people she named. However, the prevalence of sex, drugs, and power politics in classical music is a harsh, ugly fact.

Classical musicians often misbehave, and if even those struggling for orchestral positions are guilty, how much worse might it be with the superstars? Obviously, I am thinking about Niccolò Paganini, but readers should also consider recent scandalous allegations against Placido Domingo and the late James Levine.