From 1976 to 1984, the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt kept revising and adjusting a chamber piece he had composed, a piece he had titled: “If Bach had kept bees…”

On today’s date in 1983 one version of this piece – for harpsichord, electric bass guitar, tape and small chamber ensemble—received its premiere performance at a new music festival in Graz, Austria.

Pärt’s work opens like a minimalist piece, with repeated notes perhaps imitating the buzzing of the bees mentioned in the title. What Part meant by “If Bach had kept bees…” is open to various interpretations, but technically speaking, the piece is a slow transformation of an instrumental humming in the key of B-flat into a Bach-like cadence in the key of B-minor. Was the deeply religious-minded Estonian composer suggesting that bees somehow symbolized a harmonious community of God’s creatures? Or was the title, in English at least, a pun on the shifting key of “BEE-flat” to “BEE-minor?”

In any case, this piece was one of several Bach-inspired works, “Bach collages,” as Pärt called them, each he said “an attempt to replant a flower in alien surroundings … If they grow together into one, then the transplantation was the right move.”

Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) — If Bach had Raised Bees (Philharmonia Orchestra; Neeme Järvi, cond.) Chandos 9134

On today’s date in 1991, the American Composers Orchestra gave a concert at Carnegie Hall, celebrating the 80th birthday of the Armenian-American composer Alan Hovhaness. Hovhaness himself was on hand, and conducted the world premiere performance of his Symphony No. 65.

By the time of this death in the year 2000, Hovhaness had composed 67 symphonies, and ranks as one of the most prolific composers of symphonies in the 20th century. “I write too much, far too much,” he once wrote to a friend. “This is my insanity.” Even so, performers and audiences seemed to respond to the emotional forthrightness of his music.

Hovhaness rejected the mid-20th century trends towards complexity and atonality, and instead turned to archaic and Eastern musical models. Many of his works were inspired by Armenian themes, real or imagined.

In reviewing the premiere of his Symphony No. 65, the New York Timescritic wrote: “Mr. Hovhaness seems to have used liturgical roots to create his own imaginary Armenia, a music that may exist only in [his] imagination.”

Alan Hovhaness (1911 – 2000) — Symphony No. 2 (Mysterious Mountain) (Chicago Symphony; Fritz Reiner, cond.) RCA 61957

If, on today’s date in the year 1930, you happened to be flipping through the pages of the New York Times, you would have seen several ads for radios, including one that argued that purchasing a radio was a good investment.

This was only one year after the infamous 1929 stock market crash, so New Yorkers might have been a little leery of investing in anything, and disposable income for most Americans was severely limited during the Great Depression that followed.

Still, that same October 5th edition of the Times announced that the New York Philharmonic would commence live nation-wide broadcasts of its Sunday afternoon concerts that very day, with the visiting German conductor Erich Kleiber leading the orchestra. The rest of the Philharmonic’s 1930-31 season, led by the orchestra’s new music director, Arturo Toscanini, would also be broadcast live on subsequent Sunday afternoons.

For music lovers, that radio purchase started to look like a pretty good investment after all.

And over the following decades, in addition to Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, the New York Philharmonic’s radio audiences coast-to-coast were introduced as well to new works of American composers like Roy Harris, Aaron Copland, Samuel Barber, Leonard Bernstein, and Ellen Taaffe Zwilich.

Wolfgang Mozart (1756 – 1791) — Symphony No. 39 (New York Philharmonic; Leonard Bernstein, cond.) Sony 60973

Roy Harris (1898 – 1979) — Symphony No. 3 (New York Philharmonic; Leonard Bernstein, cond.) Sony 60594

On today’s date in 1910, a young Austrian composer had his first major work staged at the Vienna Court Opera. It was quite a prestigious affair, all in all, with the Vienna Philharmonic in the pit and none other than Franz Josef, the Austrian Emperor, in the audience.

All that was enough to go to any young composer’s head – and the composer in question, Erich Wolfgang Korngold, was very young indeed. He was just 13 when his ballet-pantomime entitled “The Snowman” premiered in Vienna. Actually, he’d written the piano version of “The Snowman” back in 1908, when he was all of 11. Korngold’s teacher, the composer Alexander von Zemlinsky, orchestrated the piece for the Vienna Court Opera performance, but it wasn’t very long before little Erich was preparing his own orchestrations, thank you very much.

By his 20s, Korngold was celebrated throughout Europe as composer of operas and concert hall works. Korngold settled in Hollywood in the late 1930s, as his Jewish heritage made a career in Nazi Europe impossible. His film scores for classic Errol Flynn adventure movies – “SVASH-booo-klers” as Korngold called them in his thick Viennese accent – made him famous in America.

Erich Wolfgang von Korngold (1897 – 1957) — The Snowman (Northwest German Philharmonic; Werner Andreas Albert, cond.) CPO 999 037

Erich Wolfgang von Korngold (1897 – 1957) — Violin Concerto in D, Op. 35 (Chantal Juillet, violin; Berlin Radio Symphony; John Mauceri, cond.) London 452 481

One of the last chamber works of the American composer Aaron Copland received its first performance on today’s date in 1971 in Philadelphia as a benefit for that city’s Settlement Music School.  Copland himself was present for the premiere of his “Duo” for flute and piano. The work was commissioned by friends and students of the late William Kincaid, for many years the principal flutist of the Philadelphia Orchestra.

By 1971, thorny, complex, and atonal music was the fashion in both Europe and America. Copland, for his part, had composed some challenging orchestral works along these lines as well. His “Duo,” however was unashamedly lyrical.

As Copland put it: “What can you do with a flute in an extended form that would NOT emphasize its songful nature? Lyricism seems to be built into the flute. Some expressed surprise at the tonal nature of my Duo, considering that my recent works had been in a more severe idiom.”

Copland needn’t have worried. As music critic Michael Steinberg put it, reviewing its first performance in Boston: “Copland’s Duo is a lightweight work of a masterful craftsman. It is going to give pleasure to flutists and their audiences for a long time.”

Aaron Copland (1900 – 1990) — Duo (Jennifer Stinton, flute; Malcolm Martineau, piano) Collins 1385

Today we celebrate the birthday of Leroy Bernard Shield, an American composer whose name might not ring a bell, but whose music you might instantly recognize – and with a smile.

Shield’s name rarely appeared on the credits for the classic “Our Gang” and “Laurel & Hardy” comedies from the 1930s, but his music was used in most of them.

Leroy Shield was born in Waseca, Minnesota, on today’s date in 1893. At five he was already an accomplished pianist and organist, and by 15 a professional arranger, composer, and concert pianist.

In 1923, he joined the staff of the Victor Talking Machine Company, supervising their East Coast recording sessions. Then in 1930, he was appointed Victor’s "Musical Director in charge of Hollywood, California, Activities," and it was in this capacity that he wrote and oversaw the recording of music for the famous comedies produced by the Hal Roach Studios.

In 1945, Shield moved back to New York and became the orchestral contractor for the NBC radio network and worked closely with the famous conductor Arturo Toscanini and his NBC Symphony.  Leroy Shield retired in 1955, moved to Florida, and died in Fort Lauderdale in 1962.

Leroy Shield (1893 – 1962) — Good Old Days and Hide and Go Seek (Beau Hunks Orchestra) Koch 8702

One of the finest music schools in the world opened its doors in Philadelphia on today’s date in 1924. The Curtis Institute of Music was founded with a $12 million dollar grant from Mary Louise Curtis Bok. For many decades, that initial grant provided full scholarships for all Curtis students. According to Mrs. Bok, “The aim is for quality of work rather than quick, showy results."

Distinguished Curtis alumni have included performers like Hilary Hahn, Peter Serkin, and Richard Goode. And here’s an impressive statistic: today Curtis alumni occupy nearly 25% of the principal desk positions in the top five American symphony orchestras.

Curtis also graduated many famous composers as well, including Samuel Barber, Leonard Bernstein, and Ned Rorem.

To help celebrate its 75th anniversary in 1999, the Curtis Institute commissioned a new orchestral work from the American composer Jennifer Higdon, who had joined the school’s faculty. Her “Blue Cathedral” was premiered by the Curtis Symphony in the spring of 2000. Higdon says her music is like “a story that commemorates living and passing through places of knowledge and of sharing – and of that song called life.”

That description seems to fit the Curtis Institute as well.

Jennifer Higdon (b. 1962) — Blue Cathedral (Atlanta Symphony; Robert Spano, cond.) Telarc 80596

The old adage, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again” pretty much sums up the career of the French composer Georges Bizet.

Bizet died at the age of 36 in 1875, the same year his opera “Carmen” premiered.  Now, “Carmen” soon became acknowledged as one of the great masterworks of French opera, but poor Monsieur Bizet wasn’t around to experience any of that.

Moreover, “Carmen” was preceded by Bizet’s no less than THIRTY attempts writing a hit opera. Most never made it to the stage, and the few that did, achieved only modest success.

The most famous of the “pre-Carmen” Bizet operas premiered on today’s date in 1863.   It was set in exotic Ceylon, and entitled “Les pêcheurs de perles,” or “The Pearl Fishers.”

It ran for 18 performances, and, although applauded by its first audiences, was roundly panned by the press. Only one music critic saw any merit in Bizet’s opera, and that critic just happened to be the great French Romantic composer Hector Berlioz.

Even so, Bizet’s “Pearl Fishers” wasn’t revived until long after Bizet’s death, and some 30 years after its premiere. Today, after “Carmen” of course, it’s Bizet’s SECOND most popular opera.

Georges Bizet (1838 – 1875) — Prelude, fr The Pearl Fishers (Mexico City Philharmonic; Enrique Batiz, cond.) ASV 6133

Georges Bizet (1838 – 1875) — "Au fond du temple saint," fr The Pearl Fishers (Placido Domingo, tenor; Sherrill Milnes, baritone; London Symphony; Anton Guadagno, cond.) BMG 62699

Yes, Juliet, a rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but a catchy title alone can’t help a piece of music that’s uninspired or just plain boring. An intriguing title, however can sometimes help put audiences into a more receptive frame of mind – or at least pique their curiosity.

From the very beginning of his career in the 1980s, the young American composer Michael Torke had the knack of coming up with quite evocative titles. His early works had titles like “Ecstatic Orange” and “Bright Blue Music.” A piece composed for the 1994 Olympic Games in Atlanta was titled “Javelin,” and this music, an orchestral suite that premiered in Amsterdam on today’s date in 1997, was titled “Overnight Mail.”

And each of the three movements of his orchestral suite had an ADDITIONAL title, as Torke explains:

“The titles of the suite’s three movements, Priority, Standard, and Saturday Delivery present the options for expediency when sending things, but musically, they represent different reactions to an abstract compositional problem I set up for myself … For me this was important, because I want to write music that follows all the old rules of voice leading and counterpoint, but sounds fresh.”

Michael Torke (b. 1961) — Overnight Mail (Orkest de Volharding; Jurjen Hempel, cond.) Argo 455 684

Today’s date in 1913 marks the birthday of American composer Vivian Fine in Chicago.

At the tender age of five she became a scholarship piano student at the Chicago Musical College. As she grew up she became enthralled with the great composers and performers she heard at her regular visits to the Chicago Symphony. Vivian Fine initially intended to be a concert pianist, but theory studies with American composer Ruth Crawford Seeger nudged her towards composition. 

Vivian Fine became an avid follower of the emerging “Ultra-Modern” school of composers, including Henry Cowell, who proved to be one of her early mentors.  Fine’s debut as a composer came in Chicago when she was 16, and at 17 she moved to New York City to she studied composition with Roger Sessions and orchestration with George Szell.

When Roger Sessions saw her sketches for her “Concertante for Piano and Orchestra” in 1944, he commented: “Now we are colleagues,” and George Szell praised its orchestration. Teaching became an important part of Fine's own professional life, first at New York University and Juilliard, and ultimately at Bennington College.

Following a traffic accident in Vermont, Vivian Fine died in March of 2000, at the age of 86.

Vivian Fine (1913 – 2000) — Concertante (Reiko Honsho, piano; Japan Philharmonic; Akeo Watanabe, cond.) CRI 692