A Midsummer Night's Dream: Incidental Music – A Magical Dip Into Mendelssohn’s World
Alright, let me just say this upfront—Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Incidental Music is one of those albums that feels like stepping into a dream itself. Performed by Jennifer Vyvyan, Marion Lowe, the London Symphony Orchestra, and conducted by Peter Maag (yeah, it’s quite the team), this Decca release from the UK is pure magic wrapped in classical vibes. It’s not perfect—it doesn’t need to be—but it’s got heart, soul, and a little sprinkle of fairy dust.
Let’s talk about two tracks that stuck with me long after I hit pause. First up, “The Wedding March.” You know this tune even if you think you don’t. It’s THE wedding song everyone uses when they walk down the aisle. But here’s the thing—it’s so much more than background music for veils and vows. Listening to it on this album, performed with such crisp precision by the orchestra, I felt something… hopeful? Nostalgic? Like, yeah, life might get messy sometimes, but there are moments where everything aligns perfectly, you know? The strings swell just right, and suddenly you’re picturing flowers blooming in slow motion. Cheesy? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
Then there’s “Scherzo,” which hits different. This track is playful, mischievous even—it’s like Mendelssohn whispered secrets to the violins and told them to run wild. There’s an energy here that makes your feet tap without asking permission. I swear, every time the flutes kick in, it feels like Puck himself is darting through the forest, causing chaos and giggling along the way. It’s short, sharp, and leaves you wanting more, kinda like biting into a really good cookie only to realize it’s gone too soon.
What gets me most about this album isn’t just how beautiful it sounds—it’s how human it feels. Sure, it’s labeled as “classical,” but it’s also emotional, raw, and full of tiny imperfections that make it real. You can hear the passion in the performances; it’s almost like these musicians weren’t just playing notes—they were telling stories.
Here’s the kicker though: while listening, I realized something weird. Classical music isn’t supposed to remind you of modern stuff, right? But honestly, this album made me think of video game soundtracks. Those epic moments in games where you’re running through enchanted forests or solving puzzles in magical castles—that same vibe lives in Mendelssohn’s work. Who would’ve thought a composer from the 1800s could nail that feeling centuries before pixels existed?
So yeah, give this album a spin if you want to feel fancy yet grounded all at once. Just don’t blame me if you start hearing wedding bells in your sleep.