When we think of Franz Joseph Haydn, we often think of a great composer who helped shape the foundations of classical music. What I find especially interesting about Haydn however is the person behind that music: a man with a beautiful singing voice, a wonderful sense of humor, and an ability to find joy in unexpected places. Born in 1732 in the small Austrian village of Rohrau, Haydn’s father made wooden wheels for a living, and neither of his parents was a professional musician. Yet music was part of family life, and his father enjoyed singing and accompanying himself on the harp. As a young boy, Haydn possessed such a beautiful, clear soprano voice that he was invited to join the choir at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. He also learned to play the violin and keyboard. It is remarkable to imagine that a child who began his musical journey in such humble surroundings would eventually become one of the most influential composers in history. His early experiences remind me that greatness does not depend on where we begin, but on what we do with the opportunities we are given.

When we think of Johannes Brahms, we often imagine a serious, bearded composer sitting at his desk, writing music that is powerful, complicated, and sometimes difficult to understand.

One of the things I find fascinating about Frédéric Chopin is that, behind the extraordinary beauty of his music, there was a man whose personality was full of curious contradictions. Chopin was a brilliant pianist, yet he was intensely shy and uncomfortable performing before large audiences. In fact, he preferred to play the piano in complete darkness, sometimes blowing out candles or asking others to extinguish them, even when he was playing at a social gathering! Imagine being invited to a party and discovering that the pianist has decided that everyone must sit in the dark. Yet, in a way, I think this tells us something important about Chopin. He did not necessarily want people to look at him; he wanted them to listen. His music was so personal and intimate that perhaps he felt most comfortable when he could forget the audience and simply enter the world of sound.