AN UNRAVELING MUSICAL MYTHS HELL-O-WE'EN SPECIAL: A SPOOKY SOUNDTRACK FOR ALL HALLOWS' EVE

It's that time of year again - when chill seekers look to the dark side of classical music to get their creep on.

More often than not, both newcomers to the genre and seasoned listeners alike are faced with an annually occurring dilemma: will it be Saint-Saëns' Danse Macabre of Orff's O Fortuna to set the mood come this All Hallows' Eve? 

With list after list nominating popular, oldie-but-goodie bone-chillers (featured in both online and in print media), the challenge here at Unraveling Musical Myths hasn't been which piece from the standard Hallowe'en canon to highlight, but rather, how to narrow down the spookiest of selections from an arsenal of less familiar diabolical delights, especially curated by the author of this blog for the season.

I have selected from my boiling cauldron the following 13 bone-chilling rides through hell featuring just enough crazed cacophony to make even the bravest listener cower beneath the covers.

UPDATE: In honor Unraveling Musical Myths' long-time reader, Classical_Music_Fan, I have added an additional 13 spooky selections to this years' edition. The links for these extra, tumultuously terrifying treats are listed in the comment section at the end of this post. 

VÍCTOR AGUDELO - EL SOMBRERÓN

We begin within the dark, humid corridors of a Columbian village in the dead of night, where, in the distance, sound the ominous din of horse hooves, steadily clip clopping along cobble stoned streets. Neither quickening or slowing, they march at a determined pace until a sickening high pitched squeal breaks the rhythm: it is the whistle of El Sombrerón, the phantom of the night, sat upon his black steed. 

 

In the distance, a funeral bell tolls - a warning to the would-be hoods, drunks and gamblers of their fate should they engage in public mischief: a desperate sprint for their lives under the moonlit night, chased by El Sombrerón upon his trusty horse. At their side, two angry, vicious black dogs are released from their metal chains, and are sicced upon his victims. 

 

The thrilling chase is based on the local legend of El Sombrerón (known in English as The Man in the [Black] Hat), a mysterious (allegedly real) villager who once roamed the streets upon his black stallion, clad in all black attire. Although rumored to have never harmed another living soul while alive, his menacing appearance instilled in all those who encountered him both curiosity and fear. A constant stern-jawed expression only added to the ever churning rumor mill: who was El Sombrerón? What did he want? Was he good, or evil?

The mysterious man in the black hat continued to spook villagers well after his death, as a phantom menace of virtue.

But make no mistake, dear reader, Columbian composer Victor Agudelo's El Sombrerón dispenses with any trace of virtue: a menacing brass section gruesomely groans to the start-and-stop rhythm of hoof beats, as the listener places himself in the place of the would-be victim. A brief respite - portraying the mysterious chaser "losing" the chased as he cowers behind a brick lined wall under the cover of night - is brazenly interrupted by brash horns as the pace quickens to match the victim's racing heart. With a bone-chilling and sickeningly frustrating pace, El Sombrerón will leave the listener on the edge of his or her seat. 

 

Questions about the ultimate fate of the victim are left unanswered by the brass section, which repeatedly approach crescendi, only to be cut off just before the crest as the mysterious Man in the Black Hat advances and retreats.

 

ALEXANDER MOSOLOV - THE IRON FOUNDRY 

Inspired by The Procession of the Sage from Igor Stavinsky's masterful Rite of Spring, Alexander Mosolov's steely musical interpretation of an iron factory running at full steam begins methodically, with an unintentionally menacing start of the iron master's machine, represented by the stroke of a tam-tam. Percussion and brass sinfully interplay among each other as the machine reaches full power and as the rest of the factory begins to function in unison.

Considered a prime example of Soviet futurist music by a composer known for his brutalist scores, Mosolov's Iron Foundry unveils the horrific cacophony which can be found in everyday life.

WERNER EGK - FRENCH SUITE AFTER RAMEAU

20th century German composer Werner Egk's witty, yet altogether unsettling tribute to the French Baroque composer Jean-Philippe Rameau is jam packed full of dizzying and frenetic energy. Egk may not have intended the piece to shock and frighten, but its manic pace is sure to shiver some bones:

FRANK MARTIN - CONCERTO FOR HARPSICHORD AND SMALL ORCHESTRA

Mark this Concerto for Clavichord and Small Orchestra by the late Swiss composer Frank Martin as another surprisingly spooky piece: originally inspired by the "rolling waves of the North Sea," the unusual work sounds more like the soundtrack of a diabolical carnival master:

SHOSTAKOVICH - 'THE GHOST' FROM THE HAMLET SUITE

Shostakovich's mercurial incidental music for director Nikolai Akimov's dark and polarizing bastardization of Shakespeare's Hamlet proved every bit as modern and satirical as the aspiring theatre artist had envisioned. Shostakovich exercised his more dramatic side with this score, using Hamlet as a testing ground for his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk District. Also performed as an orchestral suite, Shostakovich's Hamlet will both delight and defile sensible listeners' ears.

LUCA FRANCESCONI - DUENDE. THE DARK NOTES

20th century Spanish poet Federico Garcìa Lorca best explained the driving force behind Luca Francesconi's diabolically dissonant Duende thusly:

"...Duende is the demon of flamenco...it is a subterranean force of unheard-of power that escapes rational control. To recover a primitive force in the instrument that perhaps most embodies the history of the West it is necessary to make a perilous descent into the underworld of dark notes, or a flight beyond the orbit of the earth." 

Composed in 2013, Francesconi's "demonic" violin concerto earned him a place in music history, when, in 2015, he became the first Italian composer to win the prestigious Royal Philharmonic Society Music Award. Those sitting on the jury referred to the perilous piece as "...a white-knuckle ride of dramatic intent, which never loses its focus even through captivating moments of calm within the turmoil." 

I think the listener will agree:

 

MARCEL DUPRÉ - AVIS MARIS STELLA (FINALE, AMEN)

Marcel Dupré's concluding movement for his solo organ piece, Ave maris stella should - as an ancient Marian hymn of both honor and entreaty - sound as magnificent as the Holy Mother Herself. 

As we have learned through this years' and previous years' Hell-o-we'en playlists featuring liturgical wonders, musical interpretations of the Holy Book range from composer to composer, running through the full gamut of human emotions from rapturous ecstasy to brooding trepidation.

Dupré's finale is a prime example: undeniably ominous, even menacing in tone, his "affirmation" does not bespeak of divine hope but of desperation:

 

WOLFGANG AMADÈ MOZART - THE ALLEGRO FROM "FANTASIA" IN F MINOR FOR MECHANICAL ORGAN

Chill-seekers may be surprised to find the name of Mozart on this list. Unfairly subjected by distractors as a composer only capable of highly technical frivolity, the Salzburgian wunder has more than his share of serious, even terrifying works within his massive catalogue.

Take, for instance, the opening Allegro from the maestro's little known piece Fantasia in F minor, originally composed for mechanical organ. The rare gem even spooked fellow composer and former Mozart pupil Ignaz von Seyfried (15 August 1776 – 27 August 1841), who, in a letter to the editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung (AmZ) Friedrich Rochlitz, described it as a hair-raising work, one from which

"A thousand varying emotions were aroused by that ... terrifying Allegro, with its artful fugue subject in the strict style. The listener is startled at the violent modulation to F sharp minor, and imagines the ground shaking beneath him."

 
 

 

Coinciding with Hallowe'en is the observation of Mozart's name-day. Differing from a birthday in which an individual celebrates the date of one's birth, a name-day celebrates the Saint for which a child was so named - in this instance, St. Wolfgang. Name-days were given precedence over birthdays in Mozart's time, and the composer would celebrate the occasion by writing music for colleagues and family. This Hell-o-we'en, Unraveling Musical Myths pays homage to the icon's more sinister side.

 

SERGEI PROKOFIEV - SEVEN, THEY ARE SEVEN

Prokofiev is frequently featured on Unraveling Musical Myths' Hell-o-we'en playlists, and with good reason. The 20th century Russian-Soviet icon was a master of suspense: alongside Shostakovich, he is the gold standard architect of dread, representing a litmus test for composers attempting to convey into music both legendary and real-life horrors. 

 

Here, he revisits a demonic lore from the third millennium BC. Etched into a cuneiform in an ancient Mesopotamian temple and later translated into Russian as the poem Ancient Calls by the symbolist poet Konstantin Balmonon, the original logo-syllabic script spins a diabolical yarn of seven demonic gods with extraordinary powers over the elements.

Composed after the fall of tsar Nicholas II of Russia, Prokofiev's Seven reads like an anger-fueled allegory against unchecked power.

KRZYSZTOF PENDERECKI - STABAT MATER

It was a tough choice to decide between nominating for this year's Hell-o-we'en playlist Penderecki's full St. Luke's Passion - a terrifyingly transcendent masterpiece of serenity and horror - or it's famed extract Stabat Mater. There is something truly unsettling about the composers' interpretation of the Virgin Mary as she stands guard at her Holy Son's crucifix, watching His agonizing last moments on the cross.

This Christian hymn to the Virgin is often composed with a sense of compassion, and tender solace in mind. Penderecki, however, takes the listener into the breast of true human emotion and suffering - there is no beauty in this version of the sacrifice. Painfully slow paced, a drone-like choir chants among itself. There is a sense of despair in the Dolorosa as the Virgin stands at the foot of the cross weeping, as the choir - with perhaps just a tinge of empathy - channels an agonizingly bittersweet sense of acceptance from the breast of the Holy Mother. This altruistic act is as painful for the listener to bear witness as it is shockingly transcendent.
 

An underlying frustration - which merely brooded beneath the surface during the Dolorosa - begins to steadily build, soon warping into twisted indignation as voices forcefully and angrily chant over one another, unable to answer the rhetorical question: "Quis est homo qui non fleret, matrem Christi si vidéret in tanto supplício?" (Is there one who would not weep, whelmed in miseries so deep, Christ's dear Mother to behold?)

Although I highly recommend the full version of Penderecki's St. Luke's Passion, I chose to highlight Stabat Mater for all of its horror and misery, as the composer so painstakingly places the listener in the mind of Mary, full of anguish of conflict as she watches Her beloved Son bleed out on the cross.

EUGÈNE GIGOUT - TOCCATA IN B MINOR

Although considered a "happy" piece, concluding with the Picardy third on the final chord, the frantic pacing of French composer Eugene Gigout's Toccata can quite readily be mistaken as blood-curdling. 

 

Full of manic energy preceding the final glorious chord, this unexpectedly spooky piece brings to mind visions of Dracula, the Boogeyman in the closet and other monsters that creepeth under the cover of night.

ANTONIO BAZZINI - DIES IRAE (MESSA PER ROSSINI)

Those familiar with Giuseppe Verdi's magnum opus Messa da Requiem may find themselves surprised to learn of the maestro's earlier, collaborative Requiem for [Gioachino] Rossini.

Declaring upon the latters' passing in November 1868,  

“To honour the memory of Rossini I would like the most distinguished Italian composers to compose a Requiem Mass to be performed on the anniversary of his death,” 

Verdi sought out the collaborative efforts of 12 more composers - all of them Italian like Rossini - for the occasion. What resulted was a dynamic - at times bombastic - forerunner to his iconic Requiem in honor of Italian poet Alessandro Manzoni in 1874, composed some 5 years after his tribute to Rossini (Verdi even retooled his own contribution, a Libera Me for his more famous Requiem).

Every bit as operatic as the Manzoni Requiem, The Messa per Rossini may very well have laid the foundation for what was to become Verdi's most treasured, and - at times - arguably terrifying composition. 

While Bazzini's contribution of the Dies Irae may be a somewhat tamer version of Verdi's later, more shrill version, it will still leave the listeners' hair standing on end, and is a perfect fit for any Hell-o-we'en bash.

KARL AMADEUS HARTMANN - THE TOCCATA FROM SYMPHONY NO. 6

Regarded by scholars as a composer who sought out his own "personal exile" during the second world war - not by fleeing Germany but rather by disallowing performances of his music during the Third Reich - Hartmann's oeuvre is a force to be reckoned with. 

 

Full of angst and fevered passion, the toccata from the composers' 6th features a diabolical romp between between the woodwinds and strings as they make repeated, unsuccessful attempts at frivolity - perhaps echoing the desire for normalcy during a period of immeasurable strife - only to be repeatedly struck down by violent outbursts from the percussion section, bringing the listener dead center, into the fray of chaos.

Hartmann's harrowing Toccata begins at 10:46 in the video below.

Visit past Hell-o-we'en playlists curated by Unraveling Musical Myths by clicking on a year in the graphic below:

-Rose