Three ways to develop a taste (or at least a true appreciation) for any artform

Last night, my daughter Chloe and I were at Cleveland's Severance Hall to hear the world-renowned Cleveland Orchestra perform Camille Saint-Saens' Piano Concerto No. 2 (featuring rock star pianist Lang Lang) and Hector Berlioz's "Symphonie Fantastique."

Or at least I assume we were. I'm writing this in early April, and that's what's on the calendar for May 2. I have a partial season subscription to the Cleveland Orchestra. I use it to nurture my love of classical music and to spend time with my daughters Elissa and Chloe, who accompany me to these concerts.

I did not grow up a fan of this style of music, you understand. It's something I developed beginning in my early 40s and that continues to grow today through constant listening and reading articles about these works written by people who know what they're talking about.

I don't really know what I'm talking about when it comes to classical music, but I do, as they say, know enough to be dangerous. I'm constantly buying CDs off of Amazon and eBay to hear recordings of certain pieces you just can't get on a streaming service like Spotify or Apple Music.

I really can't enough of it.

Like I said, though, I was intentional in developing this artistic interest. I wanted to better understand and appreciate it starting around 2011, and I'm pleased with the progress I've made these past 13 years.

I have so much more to listen to and understand, though, which is the part I love. There's never a shortage of new stuff to discover.

If you have a similar potential interest in something artistic – whether it's music, visual art, dance, poetry, or whatever – you may benefit from doing three things that helped me get started as a classical music fan:

(1) Begin with the stuff you know you like
In my case with classical music, this was Tchaikovsky (unapologetically emotional, melodic, accessible) and Beethoven (familiar, powerful). Listening to those two well-known composers early got me acquainted with common forms like symphonies, chamber music and piano concertos. It also taught me to listen for and identify themes and recurring passages and how cleverly they can be used in a piece. Most important, though, starting with music I already somewhat knew kept me coming back and allowed me to develop a real thirst for more.

(2) Get a book or check a website for beginners
Every artform has a set of books or online articles for those who want to learn more about it. In my case with classical music, I own four books that were indispensable in helping me understand what I was hearing and directing me toward the most important works. In case you're interested, those are:

• The NPR Curious Listener's Guide to Classical Music
• The NPR Guide to Building a Classical CD Collection
• The New York Times Essential Library of Classical Music
• The International Guide to Building a Classical Music Library

(3) Go and see it live when you can
If you want to learn more about painting or sculpture, you have to get to an art museum to see the medium up close and personal. If dance is your thing, find a live ballet performance. In the case of classical music, you have to hear a good orchestra play in person. You just have to. There's nothing else like it. I'm spoiled having a world-class ensemble in my backyard, but there are plenty of highly skilled orchestras in every state/province and country. Get thee to a concert hall (or museum, or live poetry reading, or dance theatre...) and your understanding of your chosen artform, much like the Grinch's heart, will grow three sizes that day.

I'm digging classical music and you're probably not

Over the last year or so, I've gotten heavily into classical music. To the point that it's almost the only music I listen to anymore.

This, you'll readily agree, puts me into a distinct minority. Classical music fans comprise a very small percentage of the general public, which is why your local classical music station has − at any given moment − a total of 17 listeners.

But that's part of the attraction of classical musical to some people, isn't it? The exclusivity. The elitism. The feeling that, "While you barbarians are out downloading Miley Cyrus songs, I'm soaking in the best that Western Civilization has to offer."

I would love to take that same snobbish attitude, but I'm not nearly sophisticated enough. I still cheer loudly when two guys start punching each other in the face at a hockey game. And I regularly scratch myself in ways that are, generally speaking, unacceptable in polite company.

Yet I love me some classical music. Or at least I love the stuff I've been able to absorb so far. I'm very much into the long symphonic works: Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn. Those are my Big Three these days.

But I still have a long way to go to fully appreciate the genre. Opera and I don't really get along much (yet). And the modern composers utterly baffle me (I have Berg's Violin Concerto on CD, and I'm not kidding when I tell you it literally frightens me. Either that man was crazy or I'm just a big wuss. Or both.)

Because that's the thing about classical music that turns a lot of people off, and I get it: It takes effort to understand it. This isn't a three-minute pop song with a catchy, repetitive hook that you can listen to once and memorize. It's dense stuff packed with emotion, with ideas, and with substance. You can listen to it again and again and still not catch everything the composer is trying to convey.

I think that's why I like it. One of my favorite pieces is Tchaikovsky's Symphony #6, also known as the "Pathétique." It's 46 minutes of music that will turn you inside out as it pulls you through the emotional wringer. Nine days after the work premiered in 1893, Tchaikovsky committed suicide. Whatever anguish he was feeling as he wrote the 6th symphony is apparent in the music.

Every time I listen to the Pathétique, it's like I'm hearing something brand new. It's so layered, so full of different elements, that I'm not sure I'll ever grasp the whole thing.

Do you know how I know I've grown up? And that I'm alive? Because I almost cry when I listen to the Pathétique. Really. I tear up in the middle of the first movement every time I hear it. And the fourth movement? The one described as "adagio lamentoso," or "played slowly in a mournful, grieving manner?" Well, if Tchaikovsky didn't know the end of his life was near when he wrote that movement, and if he wasn't trying to convey that feeling to the listener, then it's the biggest coincidence in the history of art.

I love when music (or anything else, for that matter) makes me feel that way. I love that it resonates with me. And I want other people to have the same experience. But there's a cultural bias against classical music that leaves most folks unable to commit the time and effort needed to "get" it. And that's a shame, because you have to believe me when I tell you you're missing something uplifting and even life-changing.

Not that I still don't like a good hockey fight every now and again. It's just that the next time I watch one, I'll be hearing a Wagner soundtrack in my head as one guy breaks another guy's nose. Beautiful.