This is not a groundbreaking analogy. But I came upon this comparison the other day when I found myself defending Debussy to a friend who was not fond of this particular composer. I was trying to explain that he was good, and why. In describing his music I found myself using words like “complex,” “chewy,” “layers,” and “nose.” (kidding about that last one) but, halfway through my monologue, I realized I could easily be describing a wine. And Debussy does indeed compare to a fine wine, in my opinion. There are many different sensations you get from beginning to end when listening to his music.
But more than that, music is so much like dining; the more I thought, the more easily I compared. Rossini is a lovely piece of cake: easy to eat, but too much is too much. Tchaikovsky is a beautiful, delicious steak, cooked perfectly medium rare, with a side of asparagus so well matched - by the end of it you are completely satisfied. Bartok is an interesting foreign meal that you don’t quite like, but you get through it and pretend you did anyway. And some people quite enjoy it. Brahms is a good stew. Mozart is pizza – all around good, you can never have too much, very good any day, any time of day music. (fancier Mozart is fancier pizza – but pizza is still pizza, and Mozart is Mozart.) And Bach is vegetables, so very good for you, even if one might get tired of it occasionally.
As Shakespeare said, “If music be the food of love, play on.” I would change that, perhaps, to: if music be delicious food in general, continue playing and eating all the wonderful things. All day.
Your glass of music for the day (red, not white) :
(if you’re in a particular hurry, start at the 3:30 minute mark and listen until at least 5:15)
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