Tarantelle

Some music just gets your heart racing. Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 "The Italian" last movement makes me want to all but yell (in a good way). It's based on the tarantelle, a traditional dance 6/8 or 4/4 time characterized by the rapid whirling of couples. I'm listening to it right now and my head nods wildly and impulsively, my feet beat their own tattoo and my fingers itch to fly over my clarinet...fingers that know this piece intimately...fingers that have played it in smoke-filled concert halls and marble-floored hotel lobbies...fingers that have slowed down in recent years from a reluctant but unavoidable musical idleness on my part thanks to the additional responsibilities in my life. As I listen, my mind is a whirl of memories as well. Shutting my eyes, I see myself on stage somewhere in China...Hangzhou maybe, or Xi'an, or...where doesn't really matter. I feel the adrenaline that comes with playing a piece like that, full of runs and twists, and you're the only one on your part, and you don't want to mess up...catching the eye of the violist who sounds like a huge rumbling bumble bee...trying not to lose your place in the midst of the sheer enjoyment of being surrounded by sound...such a sound...what a rush...

And now it's done...before I can write a good paragraph, the melody races off to be heard only in my inner ear, mostly likely for hours to come. Music like that stays with you...