Way back in the 90s, we kids would sometimes pass the time with questions like, "If you were stuck on a desert island, what five albums would you take with you?" Obviously, that was long before these newfangled iPods with their infinite storage capacity made the whole thing a moot point. If you were alone on a desert island with an iPhone, you'd probably never want to leave. You'd have every album and movie known to man, and if your private beach had WiFi, you could Google for coconut recipes, blog about raft building, and Twitter picts of yourself with your volleyball BFF to the folks back home.
But let's say ye olde deserte islande is back, and you're stuck with a Sony Walkman and five classical CDs. Which ones will keep your mind off the circling sharks? Well, I'll tell you.
- Portrait of Vladimir Horowitz. This collection isn't just the best of Horowitz (a celebrated pianist who lived from 1903 to 1989), but the best of piano. The anthology includes beautiful recordings of all the greats that I could only butcher during my piano lessons—Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," Chopin's "Funeral March," and Mozart's "Alla Turca." It does not include Debussy's "Clair de Lune"; but if it did, it would have all of my favorites. Two gems on this album are the opening track, Scarlatti's "Sonata for Keyboard in E major, K. 531 (L. 430)," which rolls and trills like a lively, light rain, and Schumann's tender "Kinderszenen (Scenes from Childhood) for Piano, Op. 15 Träumerei," which possesses a quiet, haunting elegance. The latter piece served as the bridesmaids' entrance music for our wedding, and I think the music was so beautiful (as were the bridesmaids themselves, of course) that no one noticed the hatchet job the seamstress did on their dresses.
- Humoresque: Favorite Violin Encores. My grandmother played this album so often that I get synesthesia every time I hear it. From the first note of "Flight of the Bumble Bee," I am on the couch in the my grandmother's den reading a book and chewing on the Riesen chocolate she just tossed me from her chair. This compilation from the great violinist Isaac Stern (who lived from 1920 to 2001) combines folk favorites such as "Greensleeves" and Brahms' "Hungarian Dances" with classic staples including Debussy's "Clair de Lune." His violin becomes almost a human voice in Schubert's "Ave Maria" and Foster's "Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair." Both Schubert's "Serenade" and Mendelssohn's "On Wings of Song" are achingly beautiful. This collection marries the lively, robust sounds of Copland's "Hoedown" (better known as the "Beef: It's what's for dinner" melody) with the melancholy whimsy of Kreisler's "Liebesleid." Each track is a treasure—it's hard to imagine a more delightful, satisfying collection.
- Vivaldi: The Four Seasons. When I got my first stereo, I used to close the door to my room and pretend to conduct these four famous violin concertos. Air-conducting to a recording behind closed doors has its advantages—the musicians never make mistakes, and no one can see you flailing your arms like an idiot. Each concerto depicts a season. The opening violin strokes of "Spring" always make me sit bolt upright with a grin on my face. It's joy and precision and lyricism all bundled together. What's not to love? Our family once huddled on the steps of the National Museum in Prague to hear a live concert of "The Four Seasons"—it was surprisingly intimate and such a delight. If you can hear it live, don't miss it!
- Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez; Fantasia Para un Gentilhombre. My parents used to play the LP version of this album for guitar and orchestra during almost every dinner party. This beautiful performance by Australian guitar soloist and Andres Segovia protege John Williams (not the one of Star Wars fame) gave me a lifelong love of classical guitar. Somehow, the quiet voice of the guitar doesn't get swallowed up by the full-bodied roar of the orchestra. The first movement begins almost like a call and response between the guitar and the strings, winds, and brass. But the instruments ultimately weave together to build the energy of the piece, which crescendos to a spectacular finish. Wikipedia says this all much better—but it's probably best to just hear it for yourself.
- Classic Williams: Romance of the Guitar. No album is more relaxing and refreshing than this gem from guitarist John Williams (the same soloist who performs the "Concierto de Aranjuez" mentioned above). The tone throughout the album may be gentle, but that does not make it boring. In each recording, Williams' guitar is as expressive and arresting as a good storyteller. Ponce's "Scherzino Mexicano," for example, may build on a repeated them, but the way Williams brings out the louds, softs, and pauses of the piece makes each repetition feel fresh. Every track is richly textured. As in Stern's "Humoresque," Williams' instrument becomes the human voice for some tracks, including Myers' "Cavatina" from the film, "The Deer Hunter"—a simple, but haunting melody. There are faster pieces, too, such as deFalla's "Danza Espanola" that highlight Williams' technical prowess. The album ends with the Adagio movement of Rodrigo's "Concierto de Aranjuez," which usually leaves me wanting to hear the whole piece from start to finish—which is why I'm bringing both albums to my desert island.
Of course, this is the age of the iPod, so no need to settle for just five albums. What classical treasures would you stash in your life vest?
