Astor Place
Ambient, 1997
Aria is the first in a trilogy where composer and producer Paul Schwartz attempts the Herculean task of making classical music palatable to those who think Mozart is just the name of a chocolate brand. It’s an ambitious endeavor, considering classical music purists tend to react to electronic elements the way vampires react to sunlight—with hissing and immediate, dramatic retreat.
Mr Schwartz’s victims—er, subjects—include Puccini’s Un Bel Di (the aria that launched a thousand weepy TV commercials), Verdi’s Caro Nome, Purcell’s Dido (sans Lament, presumably to avoid making us too sad to vibe), Mozart’s Ach, ich fühl’s under the alias Pamina Blue, Bizet’s Habanera (yes, that one from Carmen that’s been in every “sexy villain” montage ever), Verdi’s La Vergine Degli Angeli, Schubert’s Ave Maria, and Fauré’s Pavane.
If you don’t recognize any of these titles, don’t worry. You’ve definitely heard them before, most likely while loitering in a hotel lobby, pretending to be fancy in a five-star restaurant, or sipping overpriced coffee in a place that thinks having real books on the shelves makes it a literary café.
So, what does Mr Schwartz do with these well-worn classics? He keeps the lush orchestral arrangements, sprinkles in some electronic beats and synths, and voilà—classical music, but with an Enigma meets Buddha Bar twist. The opening track Willow channels moody trance vibes, with haunting vocals that wouldn’t feel out of place on a soundtrack for a luxury spa that charges extra for cucumber-infused water.
But here’s the rub: Paul Schwartz doesn’t really push the envelope. Maybe it’s out of respect for the great composers, or maybe he fears the wrath of aging aristocrats clutching their pearls at the mere suggestion of a techno remix of Verdi. Instead, we get extremely faithful renditions of these pieces with just enough electronic seasoning to make them feel modern, but not so much that anyone would accuse Mr Schwartz of throwing a rave at the opera house. The results are undeniably pleasant, soothing, and elegant but they also feel a little too safe.
Is it blasphemous to wish he had gone full experimental? Maybe swapped out the polite synths for some deeper, pulsating bass or unexpected instrumental twists? It’s not like the original composers can sue, after all.
Still, Aria finds a comfortable niche. It’s perfect for people who like the idea of classical music but don’t want to commit to the full, unadulterated experience. One foot in opera, one foot in ambient electronica—it’s beautiful, but it also feels like Mr Schwartz was too cautious to pick a side. And as we all know, fence-sitters rarely make history.
Final verdict: Aria is classy, atmospheric, and effortlessly listenable. Just don’t expect it to revolutionize classical crossover music. That said, it’s excellent background music for pretending you’re more sophisticated than you actually are—and really, isn’t that what we all want sometimes?
