originally written for kusc’s blog in 2009
My memory is a little foggy on some of the details. I was in high school, already a burgeoning trombonist, and already getting in amongst my mother’s collection of classical LPs. At some point, though, I decided to buy one of my own and that ended up being a recording of Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony, with Herbert von Karajan conducting the Berlin Philharmonic. To the best of my recollection, chairman, that was my first classical record. At any rate, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Why Bruckner’s Fourth? I had never even heard of the composer, let alone his music, until about a week before. I was taking private lessons with a trombone teacher at Cal State Long Beach and he had gotten me started on what would come to be my daily bread for the next decade or so: orchestral excerpts. In those days they came in books (probably still do), just the trombone parts to famous and not so famous orchestral pieces that had significant contributions from the lower brass: the Overture to “William Tell,” “Ride of the Valkyries,” Schumann’s Symphony No. 3, “Bolero,” etc. Thumbing through one of the volumes during a lesson, we came across Bruckner’s Fourth and I remember my teacher playing the opening theme — two quarter notes, followed by quarter-note triplets, a characteristic Bruckner rhythm — and I thought it sounded pretty interesting and my teacher said it was a good piece, with good trombone parts. That was enough for me. I wanted to hear it.
How can I convey the impact that that record had on me? The sound of the Berlin Philharmonic, for one thing, was like nothing I had heard before, plush but gutsy, behemoth but placed by the sound engineers at a certain distance to add to the magisterial magic. Bruckner has a particular way of scoring for the trombones — the parts are often in octaves, and re-enforced by the double basses. This does something to the overtone series it seems, because the trombones sounded huge, monumental. The Berlin trombonists also had a way of adding an extra edge to their tone when playing fortissimo. It sounded like ripping cloth. As a young trombonist I related to it strongly; these Berlin trombonists were my heroes. I imagined myself in their place.
I’d listen over and over, very closely, to this record, on headphones. I remember the glow of the amplifier lamps, the glow of the Deutsche Gramophone vinyl, and the special whoosh it made with the needle in the grooves. (It didn’t sound like my mother’s RCA and Columbia records.) I also remember the liner notes in three languages, and the glossy cover with a picture of a frozen white wing, nestled in snow. All of it added up to a kind of teenage fetish. Needless to say, I still have the record, thirty years on.
classical life 
Thanks for the re-post, Tim. Don’t remember seeing this the first time around. Great story.
It’s funny how the instruments we play strongly influences our listening and purchases. I am/was a pianist by training, and I have very strong memories of finding and playing my parent’s LP’s of Jorge Bolet playing Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1 and Mephisto Waltz and Van Cliburn & Ormandy/Philly doing the Rachmaninoff Paganini variations. I wore those things down.
Never spent any of my own money on classical LP’s or cassettes, but when I was in college and had a roommate who spent lots of money on stereo equipment and a shiny new CD player, I started searching out classical music to buy; unfortunately, I was living in a smaller town at the time, and the local record store’s selection wasn’t great. I settled on two recordings:
First of these was Horowitz’s compilation CD, “Favorite Chopin.” It starts w/ him playing the Op.53 Polonaise at breakneck speed, and I remember trying to move my hands and fingers as quickly as his playing during the left-hand descending octaves in the 2nd section — just moving them, not even trying to hit specific keys on a piano — and not coming anywhere close.
Along with that was a recording of Gerswhin: Rhapsody in Blue, American in Paris, and Piano Concerto in F (Werner Haas, Orchestra National de l’Opera de Monte Carlo, Edo de Waart). The performances are, well, nothing special; nonetheless, I loved it. Because it was Gershwin. On CD.
There are other recordings of these pieces which have long since surpassed these as my “favorites” but I still pull them out or listen to them on my iPod from time to time. Good times, good times . . .
Thanks, CK. Readers, let’s hear about some of your first records …
I’m going to have to run out and buy that now. And dust off the turntable.
OK, here’s mine. My folks gave me a record called Hearing is Believing when I was about four or five. It was a sampler record from RCA hyping their new recordings from 1954, both pop and classical. It had Byron Janis and Hugo Winterhaler’s Orchestra doing a jazzed up version of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, Toscanini’s sledgehammer version of the Great Gate of Kiev from Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, Leonard Warren’s Prologue from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci(pretty wonderful), and best of all, Leopold Stokowski doing Rimsky Korsakov’s Russian Easter Overture. What’s funny is after all these years, that record still gives me goosebumps. It’s what got me going on classical music.
Keith, you know, some performer or composer I once interviewed I think mentioned this very same recording being important to him in his childhood. I want to say Mark Adamo, but I’m not sure.
Darned if I can remember the first record I bought – probably Simon & Garfunkle or something like that in my early teen years. The first records I can remember hearing were “Volare,” which was a big hit in the 1950s and, more crucially, the Ezio Pinza Mozart aria LP. Those were transfers from a 78 album he made in the late 1940s with Bruno Walter conducting. Great performances, all in Italian even when the arias were from Magic Flute and Abduction. He was in his late 50s and near the end of a great career, but late, slightly worn Pinza, is still better than 98% of the basses who’ve ever lived.
Right, Lisa, you bring up a point. The Bruckner 4th recording was the first “classical” record I bought. My actual first purchase, at age 6 or so, was a single of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones. I think it cost 87 cents.
My first classical LP purchase was Krystian Zimerman’s recording of Chopin– Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise and other Chopin works for piano. I was a young teen and learning some of the pieces on piano (not that I was any good at them). I am sure I thought Zimerman was cute, however. I clearly remember being utterly amazed at how cleanly he played– no heavy pedal use as some Chopin performers use. I loved the sound. After I listened to the album, I made an effort to not use the sustaining pedal as a sound crutch, when practicing.
My first classical purchase was actually a CD–Wagner’s Das Rheingold, unearthed at a used booksale for $3. I was 16, and had never heard of either the composer or the work. The word “opera” on the front cover was enough to satisfy me. Plus, the cover art looked pretty cool–all giants and sky castles and treasure. That purchase, I suppose, was the end of my sanity….
Ha! EG, whose recording was it?
Janowski’s, as it turned out. Not a bad place to start–though now, a few years later, I’m mostly in the Solti camp when it comes to Ring productions of choice. 🙂
First record, any genre: the only album from the ill-fated Clapton/Winwood supergroup Blind Faith. A good album I listen to every now and then.
First classical record: the two Ginastera piano concertos, performers lost to the mists of time. I got it because my favorite band, ELP, had adapted the fourth movement of the 1st as Toccata.
First opera: the Britten/Pears Peter Grimes on CD, bought the day after I had a religious experience at my first live opera, Britten’s A Midsummer Nights Dream at the Wiltern.
My first classical record was Karajan conducting Eroica. I was 8 years old and travelling through Italy with my family. My mom suggested it and I still remember going into a little listening room in the record store to sample it (very cool to be able to do that). I didn’t listen to it much though. A few years later though, in 7th grade, I bought Switched-on-Bach and loved it, so I think of that one as the first official one…the one that began my still-continuing recording collection.
I bet Switched-on Bach was the gateway drug for a lot of people. Great record!
Janowski’s Ring is underrated. Walkuere Act I is among the best-sung on records, though I think the conducting needs more drama. He got better as the cycle continued. I’m also pretty fond of Jeanine Altmeyer, who is unusually expressive and detailed, if lacking in power, as Bruennhilde.
Solti has his good and bad points. Overall, I’d probably take Kna or Furtwangler or Krauss as my conductors of choice for the Ring, or, hey, the alive-and-living Donald Runnicles.
Grew up with a lot of classical LPs at home–mom played piano–so a big collection of Rubenstein/Chopin, Nutcracker, etc. First LP of any type that I remember buying with my own money was Maynard Ferguson’s MF Horn 2; I was a trumpet player in HS, and our band director pulled out a marching band version of Give It One for a football game. Totally hooked.
I don’t remember the first classical recording I bought, but I remember the most important one. It was the Pavarotti/Sutherland recording of Turandot. Was taking an opera directing class in college–as a theater major, thought it might be interesting–and the teacher (Peter Mark, Thea Musgrave’s husband) told me to go out and listen to some opera. I bought the Turandot recording, completely random choice, at a record store in Santa Barbara. Until then, I thought opera was either puffy wigs, or large women with helmets and spears. Imagine my surprise. The show starts with a beheading. Listened to that thing every day for weeks and weeks. That was the moment I began taking classical music seriously. And yes, I still have the tape.
I very much agree on Maestro Runnicles–I had the excellent fortune to hear him do Walkure in SF a couple weeks ago. Absolutely beautiful. I would love to hear him do Tristan.
He did Tristan twice at San Francisco, in 1998 (Connell, Schmidt, Urmana, Fox, van Halem) and 2006 (Brewer, Moser, Irwin, Daniel, Sigmundsson). I went to three of the ’98, which were incandescent, and two of the 2006.
He’s recorded it with Brewer and, alas, John Treleavan: http://www.amazon.com/Tristan-Isolde-Wagner/dp/B000FL88FI/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1279563468&sr=8-3
The first classical album that I personally bought was Beethoven’s Eroica. I bought it out of the bargain bin at the UCSB bookstore in my first year of college. I may still have it squirreled away with my other LPs. I don’t think the recording was anything great…but I did enjoy listening to it…and thinking how cultured I was at the time.
My dad was a big band fan, so most of the records in our house in the 50s and 60s were thick vinyl 78s of Glenn Miller and Artie Shaw. My first LPs were folk rock albums. In 1971 I was walking through the Tech Coop at MIT on a lunch hour and heard marvelous piano music , something familiar and yet new, and bought it on the spot. The LP was a piano version of “Pictures at An Exhibition”, one of the first Melyodia releases in the US played by Victor Yschenko. The piano version of “Pictures” still remains my favorite.
My first record was Tubby the Tuba, with Danny Kaye — still one of my all-time favorites! Our family record shelf also included Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra and several “Greatest Hits” anthology albums withTchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker” and all the stuff you rarely hear on a concert program anymore, such as Bizet’s L’Arlésienne,” Saint-Saëns’ “Danse Macabre” etc.
I think I was about 15 when I received my first “very own” classical album. My boyfriend’s father had a heart attack while painting their house, so my boyfriend and I finished up the job for him. His family knew how much I loved classical music, so out of gratitude, they gave me this HUGE album of the complete symphonies of Beethoven. I was in seventh heaven for weeks!
Yeah, our family had a multi-album set put out by Reader’s Digest of the “Light Classics” — all great stuff that you never hear anymore. Too bad. Frankly, hearing “Danse Macabre” on Saturday night was the best part of the concert for me.
Antal Dorati, Brahms Symphonies 1-4, London Symphony Orchestra, Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra (Mercury Living Presence). Blew me away.
The first classical recording I received was a Christmas present from my aunt at age seven. It consisted of “Peter and the Wolf” on Side A (with narration by the memorable voice of Sterling Holloway) and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice on Side B.
Eventually, I had the monetary means for a decent stereo and a rudimentary understanding of classical music, having just completed a classical music appreciation course at CSU Fullerton.
To familiarize myself with the standard repertory, I gradually began collecting LPs that typically featured the more familar pieces of the composers I had just studied. Not knowing any better, I frequently gravitated towards anything that included the words “Greatest Hits” in the title.
As near as I can remember, my first two classical albums (purchased together) included a double album of Tchaikowsky’s Greatest Hits, conducted by Eugene Ormandy, which featured (among others) the 1812 Overture and waltzes from Eugene Onegin and the Nutcracker.
The other (also a double album) was Phillipe Entremont performing Gershwin classics such as Rhapsody in Blue, An American in Paris and Concerto in F. This is still a favorite.
This initial foray into the genre led to a brief buying spree of similar compilations by other composers (Bach’s Greatest Hits, Brahms, Greatest Hits, Wagner’s Greatest Hits, etc) before finally starting to pay more attention to the conductor and orchestra.
I still occasionally bought things on a whim, such as the time I bought the Mahler “Titan” symphony on a whim for no other reason than because I was both curious about Mahler and (as student at CSUF) a loyal Titan.
Having taken piano lessons for a few years, I was often drawn to piano recordings, especially works of Chopin and Debussy, the latter influenced by my mother who used to play “Clair de Lune” .
What helped mold me into a more discerning listener was “The Complete Penguin Record and Cassette Guide” That and eventually attending live concerts.
The first classical LP I purchased as a teenager was Graffman playing the Rachmaninoff 2nd and the Paganini Rhapsody with Bernstein conducting.
Van Cliburn playing Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto with Fritz Reiner (+ the Schumann). My Dad owned that recording, had “the latest” stereo system, and played it for me in a large room, at high volume. I was astonished, mesmerized, and hooked forever. I heard it over and over again until every note was engraved in my brain.
I didn’t have any money to buy records when I was a kid, but my parents were classical music lovers, and they had a few very tired 78 RPM albums…Mozart’s 40th (Reiner/Pittsburgh) Tchaikowsky’s Pathetique (Stowkowski, Hollywood Bowl) and a Sibelius album that included Finlandia, Swan of Tuonela, and more. I liked the Sibelius the best, as I recall.
Also, they acquired a bunch of really old RCA Victor Red Seal records from someone…Caruso, Chaliapin, Galli-Curci doing the standards of their day. They had heard Caruso amd Galli-Curci in concert when they were young…and John Philip Sousa!
My brother introduced me to a recording of Symphonie Fantastique (Berlioz) when I was about 18 which blew me away, and a my best friend bought a recording of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring which I found incomprehensible at age 16. I love it now.
The first record I can remember buying when I was in college was a Juilliard recording of Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” which I absolutely wore out. I think that’s where my love of chamber music started.
Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 by Van Cliburn, Kiril Kondrashin conducting the RCA Symphony Orchestra–clearly my “ah-ha moment” with classical music! When my father died suddenly, I took his vinyl back to college with me at the end of that summer and played it–over and over. What a legacy he left me (I still have it–almost worn out–and of course the CD now too)!
I purchased my first “classical” music recording when I was sixteen. It was a Bach collection of five c.d.’s. I found it at F.Y.E. on sale for fix or six dollars. At the time, my high school orchestra had sight read, as best as high schoolers can, Bach’s third movement of the Bradenburg Concerto no. 3 in G major. Since Bach was fresh on my mind, I quickly decided to buy the collection. It was the true beginning of my exploration into all types of music and I will never forget it!
Also Sprach Zarathustra performed by The Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Eugene Ormandy on EMI. I still have it and cherish it.
As a side note, growing up in Albuquerque, NM, at a young age, I heard the great orchestras on the radio and always thought that the conductor of The Philadelphia Orchestra was U.G. Normandy until I got this recording and saw that it was actually Egene Ormandy. I was young, cut me some slack.
Bert made me think of a whole other fun subject: not which recording one first bought, but which recording(s) one first heard.
I wasn’t able to buy any LPs until I was a teen– and even then, very few– but we definitely listened to a lot of music in our house. My parents had several classical LPs, but I clearly remember my brothers and I listening to two in particular, over and over again, in elementary school. We loved them and would even dance to them (though my brothers will probably not admit to the dancing part):
Otto Klemperer – Mozart Symphonies 40 & 41
Eugene Ormandy – Nutcracker Suite
I don’t recall, exactly, my first “classical” record that I purchased but i recall one of the first; a recording of the Schoenberg First Chamber Symphony led by Jascha Horenstein. Magnificent interpretation, far better than Robert Craft’s, and played by an orchestra from my Grandmother’s home town, the Sudwestfunk Sinfonieorchester, Baden-Baden. The other side of this Vox album was Verklaerrte Nacht, but it was the Opus 9 chamber symphony that completely captivated me.