#SparksOfJoy: A weekly post about something that makes me happy

Jean Sibelius: Symphony No. 2: An early 20th Century work that opens with a gorgeous, watery, almost circular pulse that deliciously grows and evolves and eventually explodes in a brassy, anthemic, triumphant statement of hearty Scandinavian pride. Its ebbing and flowing between muted contemplation and rousing, full-brass glory are textbook Romanticism, though it was written (in 1902) two years after the Romantic movement in music is conventionally defined as ending. I discovered this symphony via a CD that was shipped to me in error from an order I’d placed from a CD club in the mid-1990s, and I was literally enraptured by it within hearing its first subtle, pulsing phrases. Since then, I’ve heard it live more times than I can count, including once from the chorus seats (which are sold to the public for performances that don’t involve a chorus) above the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s mighty brass section in Chicago’s Orchestra Hall. The experience was profoundly transcendent for me.

Fun fact: Sibelius is probably most famous for his stirring 1889 tone poem Finlandia, which was written as a covert protest against growing censorship against the Russian Empire.

Music To Build A Bookshelf By And By The Way Notice That My Music Library Isn’t ALL Show Tunes Just Mostly Show Tunes Because My Tastes Are Wondrously Diverse And Uber Manly Yo

Sunday Sibelius

The first ebbing, flowing, stalwart strains of the opening movement of Sibelius' Symphony No. 2 are all you need to underscore a perfect fall day. And the final rolling crashes of brass are all you need to sustain you through winter. Sibelius is the master of redefining the emotions and lush tonal visuals of Romanticism for the 20th century. Bliss.