Or how about this, from Martin Davidson’s The New Musical Dictionary:

An egocentric superiority-complex name for the area of music that stretches from Bach to Bartok and beyond. Since this area of music is, in general, by far the most popular area of music worth listening to (Davidson’s italics), maybe it should be called Popular Music. All the Popular Music not worth listening to (including much of the stuff between Bach and Bartok and beyond) could then be called Popular Muzak (or Money Music since the financial aspect would appear to be its over-riding motive).

A strong opinion, for sure. And one that suggests the formality and elitism that puts off some people about the musical classics. And indeed, there are no mosh pits, no head-banging, no pogoing; only the expectation of quiet and the problem of knowing when to applaud and what to wear. But let me suggest some other obvious differences between classical and popular music.

Almost all of the most common music that is called popular involves the human voice, mostly in songs. While so-called classical music includes songs, it also comprises choral works, opera, and many pieces that are purely instrumental and can last for more than 1.5 hours; much longer than any song. But, it should be mentioned, I am talking about Western traditions in both cases, since (for example) Indian music includes a form called the Raga, which is instrumental and can go on for a very long time.

For me, both the instrumental nature of much of this music and its length makes a lot of difference. I am more drawn to non-vocal music than song, choral, or operatic works, with some exceptions. And, for much of classical instrumental music, there is a complexity that is greater than that found in songs. Moreover, the length of many of these pieces (Beethoven’s Nine Symphonies, for example, are not less than 25 minutes each and most are much longer), allows the composer to create a cumulative emotional impact that is harder to do with shorter forms.

Think of the difference between a blog post and a full length novel. As composer Gustav Mahler put it, “A symphony must be like the world. It must contain everything.” Not surprisingly, he used big orchestras and took his time, usually over an hour per symphony.

Some people mistake soft, dreamy music for classical music. You know, the kind of music that might be playing in the background when you get a massage; or what used to be called “elevator music.” But anyone who has heard Beethoven’s 5th Symphony or Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring,” knows that the notion of classical music being relaxing can be way off base.

You might be asking whether I like anything but the classics. Well, I’ve been known to favor Judy Collins and even Johnny Cash, as well as a couple of other songs that touch me very deeply like “September Song.” Mostly I listen to classical instrumental and orchestral music. I’m not a fan of most operas, even though my younger daughter makes a living in the field. And, I used to be a classical music snob.

Once I got into the classics I tended to look down on those who weren’t. My problem, not theirs. For a long time I thought one needed only exposure to the classics and you would inevitably come to enjoy them. Now, I suspect, it has more to do with how your brain is wired; and, it is also a matter of taste. But, as they say, if you haven’t tried it, you don’t know what you are missing. And, it took me both the year of exposure to the classics I had in the Music Appreciation curriculum I endured, plus the passage of a couple of years; and then even more exposure through my friend Rock and listening to classical radio before I was finally won over.

As I have written elsewhere, liking classical music doesn’t make you a better person. Some of the musicians are every bit as miserable human beings as you will find anywhere: unfaithful, greedy egomaniacs. In that respect, there is little difference between popular and classical music.

Examples? Richard Wagner stole the wife of one of his friends (who was also a champion of his music) and wrote anti-Semitic tracts in his spare time. Beethoven was a horribly disagreeable and rude person who routinely ran afoul of his landlords and was forever moving from one apartment to another. Hitler and Stalin both listened to the classics for pleasure. The slow movement of Bruckner’s Symphony #7 was broadcast in Germany immediately after the announcement of Hitler’s death.

Then comes the question you have been waiting for: what is the greatest music ever written? No two people will agree on this and since I am not a musicologist, I cannot give you technical reasons, only a very personal list. But, as Gustav Mahler said, “What is best in music is not to be found in the notes.”

I first encountered this question when the Chicago Sun Times music critic Robert C. Marsh wrote an article detailing his choice of the 10 greatest symphonies. I don’t recall whether he ranked them, but memory tells me these were the 10 winners:

• Beethoven Symphonies 3, 7, and 9
• Mozart Symphonies 39 and 40
• Brahms Symphony 4
• Haydn Symphony 104
• Tchaikovsky Symphony 6
• Prokofiev Symphony 5
• Schubert Symphony 9 in C (sometimes given the number 8). Not to be confused with the “Unfinished” Symphony.

It might have been that article that prompted a few of us in German class, including my friend Rock, to approach our learned teacher with the question: “What do you think is the greatest piece of music ever written?” We all assumed his answer would be Beethoven’s 9th, whose “Ode to Joy” finale was well-known even back then. It was certainly a piece we all loved.

Jack Willis, the teacher, surprised us. He said that his choice was Beethoven’s Quartet in c#, Op. 131. (The “Op.” stands for Opus, meaning that it is thought to be the 131st composition Beethoven ever wrote). That statement sent me to the record shop to listen to this difficult piece. It took a long time to get into it, but Jack Willis’s high opinion of the quartet was certainly vindicated in its perfection of form and lofty emotional content.

If I were to make up a list of favorites, I’d include a few that aren’t symphonies. And, after much thought (but subject to revision), here is my list of 12 compositions, in no particular order:

• Mahler’s song “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen” (I am lost to the world). It is a piece of heart-breaking poignancy that I cannot listen to without tears.
• “I’ll Be Seeing You,” music by Sammy Fain, lyrics by Irving Kahal. This 1938 song took on new meaning when the USA entered World War II in 1941 and love letters were exchanged across the ocean. The lyrics are worth quoting:

I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children’s carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin’ well.

I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day;
In every thing that’s light and gay.
I’ll always think of you that way.

I’ll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I’ll be looking at the moon,
But I’ll be seeing you.

(The last two stanzas are then repeated).

• Brahms Symphony 4
• Beethoven Symphonies 3 and 9
• Mozart Symphony 39
• Mahler Symphonies 3 and  9
• Brahms Piano Quintet
• Beethoven Quartet 14, Op. 131
• Schubert Sonata in B Flat, D. 960
• J.S. Bach Brandenburg Concertos (I’m cheating a bit here. These are six different pieces, but often performed together).

Well, it is pretty clear that I lean very heavily toward the classics. For me, music is one of the greatest joys of life. I’m pretty good with words, but even the most eloquent person finds that there are limits. As Mahler said, “If a composer could say what he had to say in words, he would not bother trying to say it in music.”

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The first photo is Kathie Lynn Campbell playing with C’mon Casa in Montreal on January 27, 2006. Photo by Gates of Ale. Second comes an undated musical manuscript exhibited at Igreja de Sao Francisco, Evora, Portugal by Ceinturion. The  Mosh Pit was photographed by Daniel Lin. All these were sourced from Wikimedia Commons.