The Summer Solstice,  Midsummer, and specifically, June 24th, are associated with John the Baptist, the cousin, forerunner, and baptizer of Jesus, born six months before his more famous cousin (whose birth is very much associated with the Winter Solstice.)

The story of the death of John the Baptist is revolting and twisted. That means, naturally, that it makes a smashingly good opera. Richard Strauss‘ one-act opera, Salome, is based on a play by no less than Oscar Wilde. Here’s the plot, in a nutshell:

1. King Herod asks his niece (Salome) for a lap dance
2. She agrees to do it in exchange for the head of John the Baptist on a plate
3. She dances, and yes, it’s awkward
4. John’s head is served
5. Salome sings a love song and proceeds to kiss John’s severed head
6. Herod kills Salome – because Herod is clearly not sick and insane as well
7. Everyone goes to the lobby and throws up

Now that’s entertainment! Musically, the opera is Strauss at his very best – lush and romantic, but edgy and unpredictable. This video is the very end of the opera, when Salome sings her love to John’s head. The music is gorgeous and moving, but every time you get caught up in the moment, you remember that this is a girl singing to a bloody head.

At 3:56 you can hear a textbook example of bitonality – music that is simultaneously in two keys.

… and the livin’ is easy.

Yes, you know this song. It’s part of the American landscape now, having been recorded over 25,000 times. It is, of course, by George Gershwin, from his opera Porgy and Bess. The 1935 performance featured an all African-American cast, and received poor reception due to the color of the cast as well as the racial themes of the work. Since then, the opera (especially “Summertime”) has exploded in popularity and is one of the most-performed operas today.

Gershwin himself called this a “folk opera”; it lies in that funny “crossover” place between a Broadway Musical and an Opera. The song form of “Summertime” is quite simple – the phrases would be analyzed as A,A’,A,B – like a folk song or a Broadway number. Most people know it as a jazz standard or a popular song, where the vocals tend to be in a much lower tessitura, giving it a sensual, sultry sound. This makes the music sound like a sexy love song that could be sung to your lover over a cigarette and a martini on a sweaty summer night. However, the original idea of the composer, though, was a sweet lullaby that a high, floaty soprano sings to her baby.

Often, non-living “characters” play important roles in stories or staged dramas. I’m not referring to a mountain that magically speaks, however. I’m thinking of landscapes, weather, or other things that metaphorically relate to the actions and emotions of the human characters: for example, a movie where, at the moment of greatest tension, a thunderstorm breaks; or, a dry, desert landscape when the story has reached a point of despair and emptiness.

Peter Grimes is an opera by English composer Benjamin Britten, which was first performed less than a month after the European fighting of World War II ended. The plot is dark and disturbing; I wonder, though, if it didn’t seem so creepy when it was premiered, considering the destruction that British audiences saw during the war. From this opera, four musical interludes have been excerpted and used as concert repertoire by orchestras. Within the opera, these “Sea Interludes” set the scene both by painting a landscape, and by establishing a mood.

The first interlude is titled “Dawn”. Unlike the sweet, cheerful “Morning Mood” of Grieg, this morning reeks of a small, poor, fishing village, of closed-minded, spying villagers, of a brutal man, and of the impending doom of a young boy. It’s peaceful, but unsettling at the same time.