S2.E68. Love in all its guises - anguish, joy, romance, passion. Martini, Tchaikovsky, Bruckner, Ravel.

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Welcome back to Perfect Pitch with Nick Healy Hutchinson and his fresh approach to the world of classical music. Whether you're an expert or a beginner, old or young, Perfect Pitch has something for everyone.

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Here's a nice little piece of trivia to start today. It was a neat irony that Jean-Philippe Aiguide Martini died on the 14th of February 1816. This little known French composer of Bavarian extraction lived at a smackbang in the middle of the classical period and was much appreciated in French royal circles. Until the small matter of the French Revolution after that, and much more besides a short term. Having written one of the great love songs, I think he might have been quite pleased at his timing. Because about 200 years later, the melody to his song Casida Moore gave Elvis Presley a number one slot in the UK charts with I Can't Help Falling in Love With You. How about that? Here is the original version, now about 240 years old, sung by Claire Lafilliat. A man bemoans the fleeting nature of love, complaining that Sylvia has left it for another. Well, that's a pity. You know exactly what I mean. The overused word elite is no help either for being damaging and misplaced in this context. Certainly, as a noun, it implies a superior group of people. But as an adjective, it does nothing more than imply a superior quality. And nobody should be ashamed of associating themselves with that. Why, for example, shouldn't a sports commentator describe the performance of Liverpool Football Club this season as being elite. Because that's exactly what it is. Superior to everybody else. Or the batting of Joe Root. Or the backhand of Roger Federer. Or the dart throwing of Luke Nidler. We all know that's not going to happen because elite has kept its way into our vocabulary as meaning exclusive. I'm not sure that'll ever change, but I'm happy enough to put people right at the first opportunity. Classical music and opera have never been more accessible. And when it comes to opera, all you have to do is to pick the right one for your first, and you'll be hooked for life. My own favourite is Chaikovsky's Eugene O'Negin. And as we've listened to parts of it before, I'm not going to rehearse this plot again now. I just want to play you Lensky's crazily joyous declaration of love for Olga. Lensky is a poet, which is a great help because it gives him a certain gift of words. He starts quite politely and gently, but underneath the Tchaikovsky's orchestration tells you that his enthusiasm is building until he just blurts out Halubiotebia. I love you, I love you, I love you. Who would not melt at this? Lensky is sung here by Pyotr Bechawa and Olga by Oksana Volkova with the orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera New York. I'll admit that he's been very much a slow burner with me, but the more I hear it, the more I get sucked in and don't want it to finish. French horns, trombones, trumpets, all are hard at work. The playing here is of the very highest quality, as I'm sure you'll notice. And maybe you'll see what I mean, then I'd be happy for it to go on for a bit more. Despite brevity not being a word with which Brookner was overacquainted. The orchestra here is the Royal Concerto Bar conducted by Maris Jansens. Maurice Ravel, we're told, slightly resented the popularity of one of his most famous works, Bolero, and I must admit that I never thought a million years I'd be playing it on this podcast. The reason for that is really quite simple. The true thrill of listening to this piece is in the live performance. You could say that of any piece, I suppose, but it's especially true of this one, because it is bluntly a repetitive and prolonged crescendo, culminating in a downward crash, as portrayed on ice by Tor Vlendean in the Sarajevo Winter Olympics in 1984. Consequently, a recording can verge on a slightly monotonous, whereas the live performance always gives you that extra tension of the concentration required by the two snare drum players not to miss a beat. But then you get a teasing, measured recording like this one, and the ride is pretty exciting. There's no point mincing words about this. The extended crescendo and the astonishing climax have very clear sexual connotations. The music first appeared in popular culture in the film 10, starring Dudley Moore and Bo Derrick. Her character is asked what she likes to do to the music, and the look of sheer terror on Dudley Moore's face in reaction to her candid response says everything. Goodness only knows how he'd have reacted if he'd known it lasted 15 minutes. Pierre Brunez conducts the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra in Ravel's Lara.

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