Sacred Sunday: “Resonemus Hoc Natali,” Anon.

Standard

I am, as you’ve no doubt guessed, a big fan of early music.  I love its simplicity, I love its richness, and, to me, it is very centering.  Whenever things get overwhelming and I need to create an eye in the storm, I put on this piece.  It sounds mysterious, and therefore timeless.  Also, because its melody follows the Dorian mode, it is neither happy nor sad – which is what makes it such a good piece to listen to when you need the universe to just quit it for a second.  (Quick music theory tutorial!  A “mode” is another word for scale, a scale being a succession of eight notes in ascending order of pitch.  What makes the Dorian mode cool is that it includes both minor and major tonalities.  For example, a D scale is in the Dorian mode.)

“Resonemus Hoc Natali” is a very early example of the use of polyphony – polyphony literally meaning “many sounds,” and in more common terms, the use of harmony.  Like many early music pieces, we don’t know who wrote it exactly, but we do know it hails from the old region of France called Aquitaine in the 12th century.

Aquitaine!

Hey!  It’s Aquitaine!

When the words begin to describe the reason behind God taking human form – “that he might bestow aid to the human race, the heavenly assembly is astonished at this” – the rest of the choir falls away, hushed like a gasp, to leave a singer solo to tell the story.  Gets me every time.

The final reason I love early music?  It’s old.  When I listen to this piece, I contemplate the number of men and women over the last nine centuries who have heard it, too, and the joys and sorrows they carried with them as I carry mine.  That comforting connection makes me feel immortal.

—

Resonemus hoc natali
cantu quodam speciali,
Deus ortu temporali
de secreto virginali
processit hodie,
cessant argumenta perfidie.

Magnum quidem sacramentum,
mundi factor fit sic mentum,
sumens carnis indumentum,
ut conferat adiumentum,
humano generi,
cetus inde mirantur superi.

Post memorem redit risus,
aperitur paradisus,
et in terris Deus visus,
lapis manus ne precisus,
quem vidit Daniel,
quem venturum predixit Gabriel.

Hic est noster angularis,
spes iustorum salutaris,
hic est noster salutaris,
potens celi, terre, maris,
facture condolens,
quam premebat tirannus insolens.

At this birth let us sing out
with some special song,
God comes forth today in temporal birth
from virginal mystery,
let the disputes
of the faithless cease.

Indeed the mighty maker of the world
thus is made the sacrament of the spirit,
taking on the cloak of flesh
that he might bestow aid
to the human race,
the heavenly assembly is astonished at this.

After mourning, laughter returns,
paradise is opened,
and God is seen upon the earth,
the stone uncut by human hand
which Daniel saw,
whose coming Gabriel foretold.

This is our cornerstone,
the healing hope of the upright,
this is our saving power
over the heavens, earth, and sea,
consoling by his act
those whom the insolent tyrant oppressed.

Salubrious Saturday: “Black Beauty,” Duke Ellington

Standard

Oh what bliss, what rapture, what Ellington. It’s snowy here in DC and today is going to be filled with brunch and hanging out with friends. I’m going to ask the Duke if he’d like to come, too. This piece swings and grooves and croons and is mellow without being limp. He truly is the Duke for a reason.

Funk Friday: “Chuck Berry,” Feature Cast

Standard

You know what Friday’s problem is?  Friday’s problem is that it convinces you that the week is over at 12:01AM on Friday morning.  I’m sorry, Tune-Up fans, but that’s wrongedy-wrong-wrong.  But!  Feature Cast has served up a tasty portion of motivation that – are you ready for this? – you can play during the day, and after the day is over.  “Jump up, freak, or hustle – do what you want, but move every muscle.  Ain’t no time for playing around!  Only one thing to do when you hear this sound.”  Consider this song the equivalent of that ever elusive day-to-night outfit that you’ve tried for years to find.  I lost count of how many other funk songs this one samples.  I know for sure there’s “Cissy Strut” by The Meters (that’s the “ahhhhh YAH” vocal).  There are about six others, but I was too busy dancing to identify them.  Party on, y’all!

 

Throwback Thursday: “Maestoso,” from Symphony No. 3, Camille Saint-Saens

Standard

It’s the deepest, darkest part of winter.  It’s cold.  Spring feels like it will never come.  Life is difficult in general, and sometimes really whacks one in the face.  What do we do when this concatenation of suck happens?  I will tell you what we do.  We square our shoulders, count our blessings, tend to our loved ones, and attack the task at hand with even more zeal than before.  Thank the good and gracious Whomever for music, upon which we can rely to be an indefatigable crutch.  This movement from Camille Saint-Saens’s organ concerto is one of the most joyously bracing pieces ever written, and is tailor-made for those moments when you need a pep talk, and/or a sonic kick in the pants.  It has it all: the alarm-clock beginning, the triumphant horns, the gorgeous melody, and the sympathetic minor key interludes that assure you that others have seen the same kind of trying times you’re experiencing, and not only lived through them, but, ultimately, thrived.  It’s pieces like this that inspired me to write this blog in the first place so that I could share them.

“Don’t turn away.  Keep your gaze on the bandaged place.  That’s where the light enters you.”

– Rumi

Worldly Wednesday: “Otche Nash,” Nikolai Kedrov

Standard

I learned last night that a friend, fellow international relations scholar, and net benefit to humanity, Alex Petersen, was killed in a Taliban attack at a café in Kabul.  I didn’t know Alex very well.  We met a few times and were connected by our membership in Young Professionals in Foreign Policy and our mutual friends.  I didn’t have to know him well personally to have been awed by him intellectually and professionally.  Alex had devoted his life to the study of international relations in all its forms, and threw himself into it with ravenous abandon.  That the world could lose someone so young, so accomplished, and so focused on the betterment of humanity is beyond heartbreaking.  When I found out about his murder, I heard this piece in my head.  It is a Russian Orthodox version of the Lord’s Prayer.

More about Alex Petersen here, courtesy of Josh Rogin.

Termagant Tuesday: “Booty Swing,” Parov Stelar

Standard

OK, Tune-Up fans, some of you purists might get a little shirty with me, but go with me on this – I promise it’s worth it.  Parov Stelar, aka Marcus Füreder, is a fantastic Austrian musician and DJ who creates seriously cool new jazz tunes through sampling portions of old ones.  The beginning of this song reminds me of “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” which inevitably steers the old brain-box towards Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, both staples of American culture and big figures in your Yankette’s childhood.  You will understand my unquenchable delight, therefore, when I found out that apparently someone had the exact same thought I did – and executed it brilliantly.  So, this Tuesday, you get a double-dose of fun by watching Fred and Ginger in the excellent movie, “Swing Time,” dance to a modern jazz track.  I know, right?!?

Modernism Monday: “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” John Rosamond Johnson, with words by James Weldon Johnson

Standard

Today we mark the life of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., so I thought it appropriate to focus on this piece.  “Lift Every Voice and Sing” has come to be known as the Black National Anthem.  The words come from a poem written by James Weldon Johnson in 1899, a pioneer in the civil rights movement and an early leader in the NAACP.  Johnson wrote the poem as an introduction to Booker T. Washington at an event celebrating Abraham Lincoln’s birthday.  Johnson’s brother, John, set the poem to music in 1905.  The words are monumentally powerful and the melody is gorgeous, which is why I include two versions here.  The first one, above, is sung by Leontyne Price (music starts at 3:32) and adheres to the written melody and time signature.  The second one, below, is sung by Ray Charles, and, well, doesn’t adhere to much, but is just so joyous.

Today is a good day to remember that our great Republic is an ever-evolving project which it is our duty, to each other and to those who came before us, to continually perfect.  In the words of Dr. King, “We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”

Lyrics at the bottom, as per usual.

—

Lift every voice and sing, till earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed.
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.

Sacred Sunday: “Go Down, Moses,” Louis Armstrong

Standard

A bit of a curveball today.  It’s not the type of weekend for a serious choral work.  It’s the type of weekend for a zippy, jazzy spiritual piece, and I for one have no qualms about calling anything Louis Armstrong did “sacred.”  And you gotta love it when it gets all New Orleans at 2:42.  So groovy.  Happy Sunday!

Salubrious Saturday: “Mo Ghruagach Dhonn,” Julie Fowlis

Standard

This is such a lovely song.  Julie Fowlis is from the tippity-top of Scotland, a place called North Uist in the outer Hebrides (look for it on Google Images – it’s just gorgeous).  Her music always makes me happy and homesick at the same time, and as it’s cold and windy in D.C. today, it puts me a Scottish frame of mind.  A good day for bundling up and venturing outside with a hot beverage and some good tunes.

—

Hi ho ro, mo ghruagach dhonn,
S ann ort fhèin a dhfhàs an loinn:
Dhfhàg siud acaid na mo chom,
An gaol cho trom s a ghabh mi ort.

Fhuair mi do litir Dimàirt,
Dhinnseadh dhòmhsa mar a bha:
Gu robh thu a tighinn gun dàil
A-mach air bàta Ghlaschu.

Nuair a leugh mi mar a bha,
Ghabh mi sìos am Brumalà:
Chunnaic mi a tighinn am bàt
S an t-àilleagan, an ainnir, innt.

Nuair a shìn mi mach mo làmh,
Thionndaidh thu le fiamh a ghàir
S labhair thu facal no dhà
Dhfhàg iomadh tràth gun chadal mi.

S ann ort fhèin tha ghruag a fàs –
Cha dubh s cha ruadh is cha bhàn,
Ach mar an t-òr as àille snuadh,
Gu buidhe, dualach, camalagach.

Dhèanainn sgrìobhadh dhut le peannt,
Dhèanainn treabhadh dhut le crann,
Dhèanainn sgiobair dhut air luing,
Air nighean donn nam meall-shùilean.

Meòir is grinn thu air an t-snàth
No cur peannt air pàipear bàn,
Ach ma chaidh thu null thar sàil
DhAstràilia, mo bheannachd leat.

Cha bhi mi tuilleadh fo leòn,
Glacaidh mi tè ùr air spòig –
Solamh bu ghlice bha beò,
Bha aige mòran leannanan

Hi ho ro, my brown-haired lass,
whose beauty becomes more beguiling.
The deep love I have for you
has left me sorely wounded.

Your letter arrived on Tuesday
Telling of what was to be.
It told that your ship would arrive
in Glasgow without delay.

When I read this,
I immediately headed for the Broomielaw.
I saw the ship carrying the jewel,
the maiden, approach.

When I held out my hand
you turned with a slight smile and
uttered a couple of words
which left me sleepless many nights

You have the lovliest hair,
neither black, nor red nor fair,
but the colour of the most beautiful gold,
yellow, braided and curled. 

I would write for you with a pen.
I would cultivate for you with a plough.
I would captain a ship for you,
brown haired lass of the deceiving eyes.

You are skilled at working wool
and at writing on blank paper.
But if you have gone overseas, to Australia,
goodbye to you.

I will no longer be in despair.
Ill grab a new one by the hand.
Solomon, the wisest man who lived,
had many sweethearts.

Funk Friday: “Stranger to my Happiness,” Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings

Standard

There are a few songs that you can honestly say are perfectly constructed.  This is one of them.  The interplay between the sax and the guitar is so incredibly fun I laughed out loud when I first heard it; the trumpet punctuates the melody at exactly the right time; and the tempo is just spot-on.  (Also – the visual difference between the ebullient back-up singers and the staid bass guitarist is pretty hilarious.)  And finally, there is the force of nature that is Sharon Jones singing the lyrics – Sharon Jones who is, by the way, battling cancer and winning.  What a boss.

The Yankette would like to dedicate this song to one of her best friends, Deputy Tar Heel, and owes her lovely friend Mr. Bloomingtonian a bourbon for sending this song her way in the first place.  Keep your ears open and happy Friday, y’all!