Every time I write a blog post, I feel a twinge of guilt as I look over the list of labels. Does Bairstow really deserve his own label? Why do I label Auden and Eliot with their first initials, Robertson Davies and Elliott Carter with their full names, and everyone else with their last name only? Why on earth do I have labels for "journalism", "mysteries", and "miscellanea"? One day, perhaps, I will spend a few hours developing a logical system for my blog labels, which will enable anyone to find any post I've ever written on any topic quickly and easily. Except then I realize that I can't actually think of any task that could possibly be more boring, and so instead I go retag my Itunes library, or get a head start on income tax.
This week's Silly Church Music Conceit (previously: 20th-century German neoclassicism week, Composers whose last names begin with "V" week, and 20th-century Veni Creator settings by composers whose last names begin with "L" week) is "Composers That Your Wind Player Friends Will Be Surprised To Find Out Wrote for Organ". Namely, Jacques Ibert (the Piece solennelle) and Gabriel Pierne (the Cantilene). Both composers are best known for wind chamber music these days. Unfortunately, this week also has a second theme, which is "Music That Osbert Thought Sounded Nice When He Sight-Read It, But That Turned Out Not To Be Very Good And Now It's Too Late To Learn Something Else Or Change The Music List." The Ibert is fun, I suppose - but the organ writing is really very unidiomatic, and I'm pretty sure there are some harmony mistakes in the score. The Pierne, on the other hand, is quite well-written for the organ, and there are no mistakes in the score - it's just that the music is utter treacle.
I didn't have much of interest to say in this post, I'm afraid, but you seem to have read it anyway. As a reward, here's a mugshot of Igor Stravinsky.