The bitter cold weather of December has arrived.

The death of a child is a difficult thing to experience. I have not lost any of my children, but I have had nightmares where I have. A dream like that is enough to keep me awake for the rest of the night.

19th century German poet Friedrich Rückert lost two of his children to scarlet fever. He dealt with his grief by writing a set of 428 poems on the death of children. Composer Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) selected five of these to set for voice and orchestra. This is the fifth of the set, titled “In diesem Wetter” (In this Weather). Mahler’s genius of composition lets you feel the blowing winds, the stinging raindrops, the anxiety of a parent whose child is lost forever, and, at the end, a sense of peace and acceptance.

In this weather, in this windy storm, I would never have sent the children out.
They have been carried off, I wasn’t able to warn them!

In this weather, in this gale, I would never have let the children out.
I feared they sickened: those thoughts are now in vain.

In this weather, in this storm, I would never have let the children out,
I was anxious they might die the next day: now anxiety is pointless.

In this weather, in this windy storm, I would never have sent the children out.
They have been carried off, I wasn’t able to warn them!

In this weather, in this gale, in this windy storm, they rest as if in their mother’s house:
frightened by no storm, sheltered by the Hand of God.

 

For some stores, the December Holiday season began before Halloween was over. For most people, “the Holidays” begins at Thanksgiving and ends at New Year’s Day. Whenever it officially began, we can agree that we’re pretty much in holiday mode now.

It’s this month that Christians celebrate Advent – which is far more than “getting ready for Christmas” – it is about preparing for the second, not the first, coming of Christ. For Johann Sebastian Bach, the hope for Christ’s second coming was deeply heartfelt. Baroque piety and emotion drip from his motet, “Komm, Jesu, Komm.” It is ornate and full of short motifs, woven into intricate patterns that are amazing and beautiful; the double-choir dialogue at 3:00 is simply gorgeous. Like many of his sacred compositions, it ends with a chorale (that’s just the German word for “hymn”) at 6:45.

… they would sing this little aria out of Carl Orff‘s drunken oratorio, Carmina Burana.

You’ve heard Carmina Burana before – everyone has, thanks to the opening chorus. People can’t get enough of this one. You can find it in movies, video games, commercials, sports events, and flash mobs (I was there!) But unless you’ve gone to a performance of the complete work, you probably haven’t heard this selection.

It’s sort of the swan-song of, well, a swan – a swan who was roasted and eaten. Just pretend it’s a turkey and it’ll work fine for tomorrow’s “gobble till you wobble” meal.

While the performance below is okay, I wasn’t able to find a video of a performance that I really liked. This aria is written in a horrible range for a tenor to sing in – it was written to sound drunken and terrible. All the videos I found had singers who sounded too good, and the effect is lost. The awkward, silly bassoon solo at the begins sets the mood for some trashy singing. Perhaps tomorrow, after I feast on bird, I will record myself singing this, and post it tomorrow so you can hear what it should sound like.

I wish you safe travels if you are on the road or in the air today. Happy Thanksgiving!

When I was a swan, I was beautiful; I lived on the lakes.
O how miserable! Now I am charred and fiercely roasting! 
The servant turns me on a spit; I burn upon my pyre; the waiter serves me for dinner. 
O how miserable! Now I am charred and fiercely roasting!  
I lie upon a plate; I will never fly again; all I see are gnashing teeth. 
O how miserable! Now I am charred and fiercely roasting!