Today Christians observe Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. Traditionally, Ash Wednesday services include the reading or singing of Psalm 51 – in Latin, Miserere Mei – a psalm of humility and repentance. There are numerous settings of this text; more than that, there are numerous GOOD settings of this text. Many, though, believe that Gregorio Allegri’s is by far the best.

Winter is here! There’s nothing like waking up, breathing crisp, fresh air, and seeing a field of diamonds out your window.

Antonio Vivaldi wrote 500 concertos, though musicians will say that he actually wrote the same concerto 500 times. Most of these concertos are given really interesting titles – for example, “Violin Concerto in D” or “Violin Concerto in E” or maybe even “Violin Concerto in F.” In a sea of compositions with very similar names, four of his concertos stand out above the rest (not surprisingly) because they bear a title that suggests something extra-musical. The Four Seasons (having nothing to do with Franki Valli) are four Baroque concertos that musically capture the spirit of the respective times of year – Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. This sort of use of extra-musical influences is known as Program Music, and is commonplace nowadays. If a composer today wrote a piece called “A Cold Winter’s Day” or “The Ice Storm”, we wouldn’t think twice about it; in fact, we would probably begin making assumptions as to how the piece would sound, built on the musical ideas handed down through generations of wintery composers. But in 1720, for Vivaldi to write a Concerto that captures the spirit of winter AND to title it “Winter” was out of the ordinary.

In this concerto, Vivaldi paints winter by beginning in a minor mode with static, unchanging harmony (a dead, dreary landscape), then building into fast scales (blowing wind). Later, we hear a sweet song sung by a warm fireplace, before having to walk back out into the bitter cold.

Hanukkah has ended.

Renaissance composer Salamone Rossi was a court musician in the important musical city of Mantua. During Rossi’s lifetime (and long after), many European Jews (including those in Mantua) were required to wear a yellow badge or hat, were often forced to live in a walled and guarded ghetto. 16th century Mantua was known as a city of relative cultural tolerance. Rossi’s skill as a violinist and composer earned him great renown in the city, and he was excused from wearing the yellow badge.

Like his contemporaries, Rossi’s output as a composer includes plenty of popular, secular court music that was all the rage in Italy: madrigals, dances, love songs. It’s good stuff. But what makes him stand out is his music for religious use in the Synagogue. The words were sacred, but the music was in the same style of the cultivated, aristocratic courts of Italy. It was a revolutionary step for Jewish religious music, similar to the musical revolution that had been happening in the European Christian churches at the same time.

The story ends as sadly as it began. Rossi and his sister, one of the first opera stars ever, were killed (probably) during a battle in Mantua in which the attackers destroyed the Jewish ghetto.

The song of praise “Adon Olam” isn’t specifically attached to Hanukkah; still, it is a beautiful and appropriate way to celebrate the holiday. Rossi set it in the style of the Italian Renaissance – there are multiple choirs, contrasting instrument ensembles, similar to this piece. The Hebrew text is set clearly so every word can be heard – very important, especially for those who view it as the Holy Language.

The story of Salamone Rossi and remains frighteningly relevant today, in all cultures, in all parts of the world. May we all be ever vigilant to crush hatred and prevent evil.