Franz Schubert’s birthday. A day to vacillate between smiles and tears. Is there any other composer whose music so perfectly conveys the delicacy and transience of feelings?
Listening to Schubert, you can be in one place and suddenly find you’re in another, and you’re not quite sure how you got there. Wisps of cloud emerge, imperceptibly, unfurl like gossamer, veiling the sun. You feel them brush across your heart. The ache! But the sun peers through again, and the heart is warm, if not entirely settled.
Is it possible to describe the effect of Schubert’s music without going purple?
The Piano Sonata in B-flat major. The String Quintet in C. The Fantasia in F minor for piano four-hands. The “Unfinished” Symphony. The “Arpeggione” Sonata.
To define is to limit. It is the language of poetry and yearning.