Let the heavens sing forth

We’re going to another of the all-time heavy hitters of the music world today. As with Bach, trying to pick one thing from Mozart is almost paralyzing. The phrase “spoilt for choice” comes to mind.

“Exsultate Jubilate” is one of my favorites from him. It’s not for Christmas, but it’s religious, and it does call us to rejoice. The first part says:

Rejoice, be glad,

O you blessed souls,

Rejoice, be glad,

Singing sweet songs;

In response to your singing

Let the heavens sing forth with me.

I’ve got about a squillion recordings of different sopranos singing it. Kathleen Battle really goes to town on it, and I very much like Kiri Te Kanawa’s rendering. But no one sings it with such brio as Cecilia Bartoli, so I’m giving her the real estate today. And I’m giving you the whole motet, not just the part about the Alleluia that you usually get.

Sit back, crank up the volume and enjoy.

Gratitude Monday: Boldly going

Last week was rather hectic for me—started my new job, met a lot of new people, reconnected with some old friends, began wrapping my head around the challenges, tried some new things. It’s clear that 2016, when I permanently relocate to D.C., is going to be a time of stretching for me.

Today I’m grateful for the kindness and generosity of new friends, who (without having ever exchanged a word  with me except by social media and email) offered me their hospitality for the entire week, set me off in the right direction for the Reston Metro station the first morning (I never saw that place in the daylight, so good directions were crucial), lent me an operational sat-nav device (one that actually recognized the existence of the Commonwealth of Virginia, which mine did not), and enthusiastically received my nightly reports about the day’s events.

I’m also grateful to them for the sharing of the kittehs, mostly Worf and Kes (the downstairs felines), the revisiting of an old Herndon eatery favorite and the introduction to a new (to me) one—with wiener schnitzel. And a lovely Saturday night dinner with neighbors over delicious Szechuan food.

It was an extraordinary gift to have an actual home to go home to each night and it made a huge difference to my capacity for showing up at work each day pretty confident that whatever happened, I’d be okay. And I am deeply grateful for it.

Heal this place inside my heart

Yesterday was Gaudete Sunday, so let’s talk a little about holiday joy.

There’s such pressure for us to be joyful during this time. Savior born! Family togetherness! Bright colors, yule log, bubbles in the wine, miracles, feasting and kids on Santa’s lap. Everything meant to be perfect, sparkling, cinnamon and nutmeg, happy.

Jesus wept—it it’s enough to make you open a vein when your heart feels as hollow as a dried gourd because of grief or loss that you’ve suffered in recent times. There is nothing like mandatory merrymaking to lay a pall of darkness on your soul. We are engulfed in a relentless Christmas machine that can be more destructive than the 82^nd Airborne, and it overwhelms our lives, even when we have all the "proper" pieces in place.

My Christmas song today, from the Indigo Girls, speaks to this. I sent it to my BFF last September, because I feared (rightly) that if I waited until Christmas she wouldn’t hear it, and I wanted her to.

Listen to “There’s Still My Joy”, and if you’re in that awful place of pain, try metaphorically laying bread on the branches of whatever tree you prefer. Let the birds sing to you, and think about past joys that can return—if not this year, then in future ones.

Now sing in brightness

Today is Gaudete Sunday in the season of Advent. So what else should I give you but “Gaudete”? It’s a carol dating way, way back, and has the kind of hollow echoes that I think of as emerging from ancient holy places, where people made it their vocation to come together to create a powerhouse of prayer.

There are plenty of versions out there, but because it’s primarily about the godhead becoming human through birth by Mary (the refrain is “Rejoice, rejoice, Christ is born of Mary. Rejoice!”), I’ve always thought the best versions are by women’s voices. My favorite (so far) is by the group Mediaeval Baebes:

Glorious songs of old

“It Came upon a Midnight Clear” is one of the staples of Christmas pageants. Or it was in the days when they had Christmas pageants. I have to say that I was never that enthused about it because it, like “O Little Town of Bethlehem”, it always sounded to me like whoever was singing it was drunk.

However, it turns out that there are alternative melodies to both of them, and these, I find, are quite appealing.

In the US, “Midnight Clear” is sung to a tune called “Carol”, by Richard Storrs Willis, but in the UK it’s to one called “Noel”, adapted from something older by Arthur Sullivan (yes, that Arthur Sullivan). Here it is, performed by the choir of Winchester Cathedral (yes, that Winchester Cathedral):

If you’re interested, the alternative to the Fleet Week version of “O Little Town” uses an English hymn tune called “Forest Green”. Here it is from my pals at King’s College, Cambridge:

Turns out it’s actually not at all a bad carol.

Mother's arms are tight around you

Okay, technically today’s music isn’t specific to Christmas—it’s actually a Welsh lullaby. I first heard it at the beginning of Empire of the Sun, when it impaled me on its beauty and simplicity, and you not infrequently hear it at Christmas concerts.

“Suo Gân” probably dates from around the beginning of the 19^th Century; just your basic lullaby, which Mary might have sung to baby Jesus, if she’d been, you know, Welsh.

This rendition is from the choir of King’s College Cambridge, those folks who also bring us the festival of lessons and carols every year.

Slumber now

Today’s song is another in the lullaby style that we find throughout Christmas music. It’s based on the folk song “Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mild”, but was written in 1912 by Max Reger as an art song.

I learned it as “Maria Wiegenlied” in a German class; in English it’s known as “Mary’s Lullaby” or “The Slumber Song”. Regardless of the language, you get a strong sense of a rocking cradle from the beat and the melody. And in honor of Saint Lucia’s Day, today, let’s have it in Swedish, where it’s known as “Marias vaggsång”, and sung by Swedish mezzo Katharina Fallholm.

There’s also a beautiful duet version with Kathleen Battle and Frederica von Stade, which you can enjoy here.

Churches filled with pride and gold

You might consider today’s piece an unlikely Christmas carol, but it fits right in to the theme of pushing aside all the clamor and clutter of typical holiday activities. Written by Jackson Browne, and performed here by him with The Chieftains, I think “The Rebel Jesus” is a perfect reminder of what things are done these days in the name of saviors, prophets and gods of one stripe or another.

In the case of a baby born in a stable in the backwater of empire, the idea of churches spending millions to cover up long-term crimes against the most vulnerable of their parishes, of televangelists in $3000 suits barely visible behind the pay-by-credit-card logos and of Bible-spewing maniacs spraying innocent people with death on full-auto is just surreal.

And I say—right on, my brothers. And sisters. Right on.

The voice calls us

It’s time to bring out the heavy hitters—in this case, perhaps the heaviest hitter of all time, J.S. Bach. The man wrote cantatas, oratorios and all kinds of stuff on a weekly basis, year after year for decades. Of course there’s something suitable for Christmas from him.

I’m choosing “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme”, from Cantata 140 (out of more than 200 of them; think about that). It’s not strictly Christmas, but it’s suitable, because it’s about us being watchful, awake for the arrival of the long-awaited salvation. “Wachet auf” opens the cantata, proclaiming “Awake, we are called by the voice”. This is one of the busiest pieces I’m going to give you this season, but Bach did love his complexity, so just enjoy.

(This recording is of the entire Cantata. You’re welcome to put up your feet and stay through the whole thing.)

Gratitude Monday: Friends

Last night marked the beginning of Hanukkah, and I’ve been thinking about a friend of mine, whom I’ve known for more than 20 years. All I’m going to say right now is that he’s the kindest, most generous man I know, and he saved my life.

That’s something you don’t say very often, so seems like a good thing to bring up on Gratitude Monday.