Throwback Thursday: “Four Last Songs: Beim Schlafengehen,” Richard Strauss

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This piece.  This.  Piece.  This piece is a prime example of how an organized collection of sounds can produce profound feelings on both ends of the emotional spectrum at the same time.  For me, it has always elicited great peace and happiness, and also great sadness – even without knowing the words.  The construction of the song is such that the first half, which begins in a minor key, primes the listener that something is afoot – not all is entirely correct for the singer (who in this recording is the incomparable Dame Kiri Te Kanawa).  The way the melody oscillates back and forth between major and minor suggests turbulence, and a strong sense of longing for something that might never be attained.  The singer is clearly unsettled.  Te Kanawa shows us how tired she is of her lot by her slurring the melody in the first few words of the phrase – appropriate, given the meaning of the words she is singing.

The second half of the song begins at 1:39.  A solo violin leads the listener into the singer’s own daydream of whatever is so strongly hoped for.  When Te Kanawa comes back in at 2:43, the piece unhesitatingly builds to an ecstatic conclusion, at the end of which I am entirely spent.  This is a piece I can only listen to once in a while since it has a power to move me bodily from emotion to emotion, as one would move a doll between rooms in a doll house.  But what a glorious ride.

Words below.

—

Nun der Tag mich müd gemacht,
soll mein sehnliches Verlangen
freundlich die gestirnte Nacht
wie ein müdes Kind empfangen.  Hände, laßt von allem Tun
Stirn, vergiß du alles Denken,
Alle meine Sinne nun
wollen sich in Schlummer senken.

Und die Seele unbewacht
will in freien Flügen schweben,
um im Zauberkreis der Nacht
tief und tausendfach zu leben.

 Now that I am wearied of the day,
my ardent desire shall happily receive
the starry night
like a sleepy child.  Hands, stop all your work.
Brow, forget all your thinking.
All my senses now
yearn to sink into slumber.

And my unfettered soul
wishes to soar up freely
into night’s magic sphere
to live there deeply and thousandfold.

Worldly Wednesday: “Elevator Love Letter,” Stars

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Well, I attacked Tuesday…and it attacked back.  I anticipate many long nights at the office this week.  Every time I’m at the office late, especially during the winter months when it gets dark early, I think of this song.  Stay late at work too many times in a row, and yeah, you do begin to wonder whether you have a special relationship with that elevator that comes before all the others to take you home, or at least to street level.  Evidently, others have had this thought, too.  Here is a song about it from the band Stars, a wonderful group from Montreal, Canada.  (None of those “but Canada is America’s hat – it’s not world music” comments.)

Termagant Tuesday: “Mumbles,” Clark Terry

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Oh wow, yesterday sucked.  It sucked.  Your plucky heroine got totally hosed, hoisted by her own damn petard.  I made a judgment call that, while totally correct in spirit, was…well…a bit lacking in execution.  Or planning.  Or, really, on some level, logic.  Then I got reamed out by my boss, and in the process of trying to explain why I chose the course of action that ultimately saw me plonked me down in the interrogation jet stream, I, obviously, stumbled just a tad over my words.  Eventually, the great ship of state was righted, the rudder was realigned, and we all sailed off as happy as the little analyst clams we are.  (If clams sailed.  Or, for that matter, had analytical capabilities.  …Leave that aside for now.)  Still, I was left with a lingering “Oh the hell with this” hangover accompanied by flashbacks of cotton-mouthed, inarticulate gooberism.  So, what’s a girl to do?  Have a drink, take a shower, go to sleep, and in the morning, ask my equally mumbly friend Clark Terry if he’d accompany me to work.  Lick ’em tomorrow, right?  Right.  Tuesday, à l’attaque!

Modernism Monday: “Get It Up,” Santigiold + M.I.A. (feat. Gorilla Zoe)

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PSA: Before you press play, be alerted that this song contains some mild to medium swearing and vaguely salacious themes.

After a certain period of time, you realize that, man, life doesn’t get easier – if you’re lucky, skillful, and have the energy, you just get better at managing.  2014 is already going gangbusters for your Yankette, so Monday mornings are always better with a little extra something to go with my coffee.  Santigold and M.I.A definitely deliver on this track, and it puts a little extra swagger in my step when I need it.  “Always standing in the door, always the same reason you’re stuck: no guts.  No guts.  What will you get it up for?  What will make you want it more?”

Sacred Sunday: “Jauchzet, frohlocket,” J.S. Bach

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Oh this is just the grooviest thing ever.  Before I open up the fangirl floodgates: this is the opening chorus of the first cantata in Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.  (I know, I know, it’s past Christmas.)  This piece is just.  So.  Happy.  The Monteverdi Choir is obviously of the very finest class, and the orchestra is superlative.  But even more than that – holy crap, Gardiner.  His direction is inspired.  I will brook no dissent on the point that Sir John Eliot Gardiner is the finest conductor of this piece that ever lived.  Watch his direction of the choir especially from 6:37 onwards.  He sculpts the melody into a gorgeous arc of a phrase (which it already is but some choirs get a little too bogged down somehow) and then cues the basses – then the tenors! – then the altos! – then the sopranos! – until the choir is one unified, harmonious expression of joy.  Even better than that is that you can tell the singers are responding to him and are having an absolute blast.  I must have watched this thirty times and it never fails to make me laugh out loud with delight.  I hope it has the same effect on you.

—

Jauchzet, frohlocket! auf, preiset die Tage,
Shout for joy, exult, rise up, glorify the day,
Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!
praise what today the highest has done!
Lasset das Zagen, verbannet die Klage,
Abandon hesitation, banish lamentation,
Stimmet voll Jauchzen und Fröhlichkeit an!
begin to sing with rejoicing and exaltation!
Dienet dem Höchsten mit herrlichen Chören,
Serve the highest with glorious choirs,
Laßt uns den Namen des Herrschers verehren!
let us honour the name of our ruler!

Salubrious Saturday: “Beggar in the Morning,” The Barr Brothers

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Hi there, Tune-Up fans.  Yankette here.  It was an absolute monster of a week, with long, long days and very little sleep.  So I am doing as little as possible this weekend.  It’s cool and rainy here today so I am spending the day holed up in my apartment playing geeky board games in my PJs.  Then I’m going to a best friend’s house for dinner.  I may or may not be spending the rest of the weekend doing some combination of napping, staring off into space, and reading.  I’m only leaving the house if provoked.  Here is a nice, mellow song to accompany the nice, mellow activities you’ll be getting up to this weekend.  “I think I’ve come a long, long way to sit before you here today.”

Throwback Thursday: “J’ai vu le loup,” Anon.

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To balance out yesterday’s, oh, slightly intense Song of the Day, let’s throw on an old dance track from France.  And when I say “old dance track,” I mean a dance-like song with its origins in medieval France.  I honestly don’t know how old this piece is, or who wrote it, or where, or why, which, as you can imagine, deeply annoys your Yankette.  Be that as it may, I do know the lyrics are probably allegorical.  The song is a story, told in the first person, of chancing upon a wolf, a fox, and a rabbit (or sometimes a weasel) having a grand time dancing, singing, and drinking.  Some sources say that the wolf, fox, and rabbit represent the king, the lord (i.e. the lord whose land you worked on as a serf), and the church.  (I hope you know how much it pains me, as an analyst, to write the essentially meaningless phrase “some sources say,” but it’s the best I got.  If you, gentle reader, have any further information, I would be incredibly grateful.)

English words below!

—

J’ai vu le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
J’ai vu le loup, le renard cheuler.
C’est moi-même qui les ai rebeuillés.
J’ai vu le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
C’est moi-même qui les ai rebeuillés.
J’ai vu le loup, le renard cheuler.

J’ai ouï le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
J’ai ouï le loup, le renard chanter.
C’est moi-même qui les ai rechignés,*
J’ai ouï le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
C’est moi-même qui les ai rechignés,
J’ai ouï le loup, le renard chanter.

J’ai vu le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
J’ai vu le loup, le renard danser,
C’est moi-même qui les ai revirés,*
J’ai vu le loup, le renard, le lièvre,
C’est moi-même qui les ai revirés,
J’ai vu le loup, le renard danser.

I saw the wolf, the fox, the hare
I saw the wolf, the fox drinking
I spied on them myself.
I saw the wolf, the fox, the hare,
I spied on them myself,
I saw the wolf, the fox drinking.

I heard the wolf, the fox, the hare,
I heard the wolf, the fox singing
I imitated them myself.
I heard the wolf, the fox, the hare,
I imitated them myself,
I heard the wolf, the fox singing.

I saw the wolf, the fox, the hare,
I saw the wolf, the fox dancing
I made them dance myself.
I saw the wolf, the fox, the hare,
I made them dance myself,
I saw the wolf, the fox dancing.

Worldly Wednesday: “Nobel,” Touré Kunda

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If you read the news yesterday, you probably saw the following stories:

– Half the population of Bangui, the capital of the Central African Republic, have fled their homes.  North of Bangui, an armed Christian militia has surrounded the city of Bozoum, raising fears of a massacre of the city’s Muslim residents.  France and the African Union, with the help of U.S. military transport, has sent more than 5,000 troops to bolster an international peacekeeping mission, but so far, efforts have failed to stop the violence.

– An eight-hour firefight between government forces and the Mai Mai Kata Katanga in Lubumbashi, Democratic Republic of Congo, killed at least 26 people.  The Mai Mai Kata Katanga are fighting for independence.

– Nigerian gunmen stormed the city of Shonong, in Plateau state, killing at least 30.  Violence in Plateau has been going on for years, fueled by land disputes between Muslim Fulani herdsmen and mainly Christian Berom farmers.

– The government of South Sudan appears to be close to recapturing the city of Bor, but peace talks, being held in Ethiopia, continue without a breakthrough.

You know this song.  It’s a cover of Phil Collins by the Senegalese band, Touré Kunda.  Not to knock Phil Collins, but this version flat-out knocks the wind out of me.   It’ll leave it at that.

Termagant Tuesday: “Midnight in Moscow,” Kenny Ball & His Jazzmen

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Holy expletives it’s cold.  It’s just ridiculously, stupidly, face-freezingly cold.  (DC FRIENDS, HEADS UP: If you see a homeless person outside, call this hotline and someone from the UPO will come and get them and take them to a shelter: 1-800-535-7252.)  A few years ago, a good friend of mine and her husband were posted to Moscow for one of his foreign services tours, and from what she told me, it’s about as cold in DC now as it was there.  To celebrate this truly upsetting occurrence, I give you Kenny Ball & His Jazzmen.

FUN FACT: This is how you say “Oh my God it’s cold” in Russian: “Боже мой, что это холодно.”  Got that?  What, you need help with Cyrillic?  Jeez, needy needy.  OK, here it is in our alphabet: “Bozhe moy, chto eto kholodno.”  If that helps you get a date, you better tell them who gave you that line.