{"id":13091,"date":"2013-12-02T22:00:23","date_gmt":"2013-12-03T06:00:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nobleviola.com\/?p=13091"},"modified":"2013-12-02T22:09:47","modified_gmt":"2013-12-03T06:09:47","slug":"note-time-continuum","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nobleviola.com\/wordpress\/2013\/12\/02\/note-time-continuum\/","title":{"rendered":"the note\/time continuum"},"content":{"rendered":"

Just as there is a space\/time continuum in the physical world which we inhabit, there is also the note\/time continuum. In this spectrum of time, there are passages which may only be a few bars long, but which require hours and hours of repetitive practice to achieve consistent results. There are old favorites, which lose their sting with time and familiarity, such as the transition from the development section to the recapitulation in the finale of Mozart’s ‘Haffner’ Symphony No. 35, or the seven note run that begins Strauss’ Don Juan<\/em>. And then, one comes across a new nemesis. For me (and many others in the Oregon Symphony), the Prokofiev Suite from Love of Three Oranges<\/em> is proving to be chock full of these insanity-producing nuggets. Here’s a prime example, from the opening of the last movement of the suite, entitled “Flight” (which my addled brain keeps translating from the French to ‘futile’:<\/p>\n

\"prok-ex\"<\/a><\/p>\n

And here’s how it should sound:<\/p>\n