"Adagio for Strings" (Samuel Barber)

Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings" is the first ray of sunlight after a hurricane.  It's that moment of solace when your world is in shambles.  A glimmer of hope when all seems hopeless.
No matter how many times I've heard it used in films or on T.V., I refuse to let it become some Hollywood cliché in my mind.  It's too deep, too heartfelt, and too important in the scope of modern music to reduce it to that.
Barber, a Pennsylvania-born composer who had been writing music since age 7, was studying abroad in Austria in 1936 when he first came up with the melody.  It actually began its life as the second movement of his "String Quartet, Opus 11."  Apparently, when he debuted the "String Quartet" in Rome that same year, the audience was so moved by the second movement that they gave him a standing ovation before the finale.  Realizing the power of what he'd written, Barber arranged it for full orchestra as "Adagio for Strings."
Considering the events going on at the time—namely, the rise of Nazism and Fascism in Europe, it's pretty clear that Barber was channeling the sense of loss and unease felt by the entire continent in this work.  At the same time, he also captures a spirit of perseverance; it's there in the perpetual motion of the piece, as it continuously ascends upward in stepped intervals, the strings shifting from harmony to discord and then back to stunning resolve every few measures.  Even at its darkest moments, it keeps moving.  Even when the path is unclear, it keeps moving.  It's the human condition, set to music.
It's just amazing to me how he was able to capture the gravity of the world situation so maturely at the age of 26.
Incidentally, "Adagio for Strings" made its American debut 76 years ago this week.  It was performed under the direction of famed Italian-born conductor Arturo Toscanini on NBC Radio on November 5, 1938.  Toscanini, who'd fled Fascist Italy only months before, no doubt chose the piece as a statement of defiance and strength in opposition to Mussolini and Hitler.
On a lighter side note, Barber had sent Toscanini a copy of "Adagio for Strings" in early 1938, hoping that the conductor would perform it at some point.  A few months later, Barber received the sheet music back.  No notes.  No comments.
Needless to say, Barber was ticked.
Although he was slated to visit Toscanini later that spring, Barber asked his partner, composer Gian Carlo Menotti, to meet with the conductor instead.  The moment Toscanini saw that Barber hadn't accompanied Menotti, he realized that Barber had misinterpreted his gesture.  So he delivered the message through Menotti: he'd only returned the sheet music because he'd already memorized it.