Intellectuelle   Music

From Synchronicity by The Police, 1983, written by Andy Summers

Once that you've decided on a killing,
First you make a stone of your heart
And if you find that your hands are still willing,
Then you can turn a murder into art

There really isn't need for bloodshed,
You just do it with a little more finesse
If you can slip a tablet into someone's coffee,
Then it avoids an awful lot of mess

It's murder by numbers one two three
It's as easy to learn as your ABC
(repeat)

Now if you have a taste for this experience,
And you're flushed with your very first success
Then you must try a twosome or a threesome,
And you'll find your conscience bothers you much less

Because murder is like anything you take to
It's a habit-forming need for more and more
You can bump off every member of your family
And anybody else you find a bore

Because it's murder by numbers one two three
It's as easy to learn as your ABC
It's murder by numbers one two three
It's as easy to learn as your ABC

Now you can join the ranks of the illustrious
In history's great dark hall of fame
All our famous killers were industrious
At least the ones that we all know by name

But you can reach the top of your profession
If you become the leader of the land
For murder is the sport of the elected
And you don't need to lift a finger of your hand

Because it's murder by numbers one two three
It's as easy to learn as your ABC
Murder by numbers one two three
It's as easy to learn as your A B C D E

One two three
ABC
One two three
ABC
etc.

That's the lyrics. Now the music:

Awhile back I posted the lyrics to “Murder by Numbers” by The Police and commented on its rhythmic elements. My friend Charlie Lehardy asked,

...what does it mean? Is it about dehumanization?* Is it talking about where soulessness and spiritual emptiness can take us?

Good question, Charlie. I think it makes a statement about the human capacity for evil, and about politicians. There's a reference to elected officials in the third verse:

But you can reach the top of your profession
If you become the leader of the land
For murder is the sport of the elected
And you don't need to lift a finger of your hand

I posted the song's lyrics because they detail the process of evil-doing: it starts as an idea, then the heart hardens and the first act is committed. It can be done secretly, anonymously, and not necessarily be dramatic or bloody; in fact, much evil is subtle. After guilt is shoved aside and pride of deed develops, one indulges to a greater degree to maintain a sense of "accomplishment." Evil-doing becomes a habit, a lifestyle. Though it takes work at first, eventually one becomes a master, and, if he attains a position of power, can bask in the glory while his minions do the dirty work.

It's so e-e-a-s-y...

It's not just the serial killer who succumbs, and great evil may be perpetuated under the guise of good by someone in position of leadership. (I don't necessarily equate this with war, or all war.)

In the song, this process is laid out with wry, subtle irony; musically there's a lot of calculated shifting. (I offered an analysis in the last post.) The 2-against-3, syncopation, and shifting accents create a sort of duplicitous "multiplying" effect where one beat gives rise to another, making it hard to tell just where the beat is. (Or what the meter is -- my husband hears it more in duple; I hear it in triple.) This supports the whole “murder by numbers” idea -- the sleight of hand, the perpetuation.

Harmonically there are a lot of extended chords and substitutions, which have greater harmonic potential (and ambiguity) than standard chords and, as with a lot of jazz harmony, progress without resolution. Both the verses and refrain cycle harmonically, the greatest resolution occurring at the segue into each (first chord of each section). No real resolution in the final chord either. (Harmonic foundation is in the bass line, strengthened by the melody.)

Even the vocals are delivered in syncopation; Sting sings in 12/8, or 6/8 (2 main beats, 3 subdivisions in each beat) but sometimes, rather than start on a main beat, he lands on the weak beat before a main beat, anticipating it. This gives it the swinging feel, the groove. (Done masterfully -- some actual bona fide jazz singers I’ve heard, especially contemporary ones, sound forced rather than felt. Sting, on the other hand, isn't really a jazz singer but works it into his style -- Sting-like -- and it’s perfect.)

*Actually, there's a song on Ghost in the Machine called "Rehumanize Yourself." Both GITM and Synchronicity, which contains Murder by Numbers, acknowledge that we are "Spirits in a Material World" and speak of spiritual emptiness. They never quite make it to God (even "O My God" doesn't) although there's still a quest for Him, and acknowledgment of Him, as in "Invisible Sun." (on GITM).

(Macht, are you reading? Any comments?)

Several bloggers recently posted the encouraging news that Paul Potts, a relatively untrained tenor who sells mobile phones for a living, won the British version of “American Idol” – “Britain’s Got Talent” – with his transparent, impassioned renditions of operatic song.

A few things about this stand out to me, besides the fact that he got recognition for his talent.

#1: Potts sang with authenticity – he was sincere. His talent and sincerity moved the audience; they were moved to sincerity as well. This is what real art does.

#2: There is something about good music well rendered that moves people – although it’s possible for a good musician to render bad music well, as it is to render a good piece poorly. But my point is that not only did Paul Potts sing well, he sang good music well. (I suppose “Con te partiro” is more of a simple show tune but that doesn’t make it “not good.”)

#3: The audience clapped in recognition when Paul sang. In other words, they knew (and appreciated) the music.

“Nessun dorma” was made famous on both sides of the Atlantic by Pavarotti and has been heard in various other pop culture venues. “Con te partiro,” Potts' semi-final piece, wasn’t well-known until marketed as the theme song for an important cultural event in the 1990s – a boxing match in Germany – after which it topped the charts in Europe. It’s also appeared in American media productions including The Sopranos. (But, as I watch practically no TV and see few movies, I’ve missed it. Sheesh, given that and the great dancing Ilona mentioned, maybe I should start watching TV again?)*

So, what makes music popular?

That’s what the 2007 Chautauqua Symphony season has felt like. Twenty-one concerts plus nine opera performances packed into 7-1/2 weeks. (I played about a third of them; my husband, nearly all.) Most of the concerts are put together in one or two rehearsals; some days are “triple service”: 2-1/2-hour (or more) rehearsals, morning (opera) and afternoon (orchestra), plus an evening concert. Working from 10:00am to 10:00pm, basically. Plus our commute from home. Plus the music camp my husband runs. Plus the rest of life.

It’s a wild ride.

The season's final “blow” for me was the first piece on the final concert, John Adams’ Short Ride in a Fast Machine. Brilliant in sound and composition (in my humble opinion), it's four minutes of excess sound and energy. The style is Minimalist, but with great cohesion, shape, and direction. I love Adams’ quote about the piece: “You know how it is when someone asks you to ride in a terrific sports car, and then you wish you hadn’t?”

Ha. In some ways that’s how I feel about the summer. But not about the piece. It’s challenging; keeps you on your toes. Exhilarating. Great trumpet chorale near the end.

*sigh* Well, enough of that. Time to get back to posting :-)

As everyone has probably heard, the legendary tenor is dead of pancreatic cancer at age 71. A great artist with a great gift who developed it well and shared it most generously, Pavarotti follows Beverly Sills, the legendary coloratura who died of lung cancer earlier this summer. Both singers did much to not only attain the highest level of their craft but to bring it and its benefits to as many people as possible.

I can't help but wonder, though: as the musical greats, especially ones in the so-called "classical" field, pass on, who will carry on their tradition?

Indeed, will the tradition itself carry on?

Matthew Lee Anderson at Mere Orthodoxy asked this question in a post called Selling Classical Music, to which my good friend Rusty Lopez alerted me. Lee Matt thinks it will, but... He links to an article of the same name by New York drama and music critic Terry Teachout, who in turn links to the blog of classical music critic Greg Sandow, who basically asks the same question.

Both Teachout and Sandow opine upon on the elitism of the classical music world and use terminology of Christian evangelicalism when speaking of the need for classical musicians to be relevant to the modern age and spread the music-appreciation gospel to the masses.

Hmmm.

As a professional classical musician myself (in my spare time), I have a few thoughts and questions about this. I hope to discuss them in the near future.

Meanwhile, I am enjoying the Pavarotti tributes on the radio. Could anyone else make "You'll Never Walk Alone" sound so exquisite and so grand? Bravo, Pavarotti.

From sneering cynicism to awe in less than three minutes:

http://www.maniacworld.com/Phone-Salesman-Amazes-Crowd.html

(You may have already seen this, but it's new to me. I'm a sucker for all things Puccini. :)

Today on the radio in my car I happened to hear a snippet of this weekend's broadcast of "A Prairie Home Companion" with Garrison Keillor. A featured guest was the legendary Odetta, whose deep voice first captured my imagination long ago, its mysterious, smoky resonance emanating from the stereo cabinet like thick steam from some remote backwoods cookpot. My mother liked both folk music and classical, so one day I'd hear the Philadelphia Orchestra playing Tschaikovsky, and the next, Odetta singing "Froggy Went A-Courtin'."

Odetta delivered "House of the Rising Sun" with her own twist; singing "Tell my little sister not to do what I've done; when I was young, I loved pleasure...now my body's ruined, and here I die, alone." What was especially impressive about her unhurried rendering, done to simple piano accompaniment, was a long a capella section during which she stayed absolutely true to pitch. I mean, to the cent.

Keillor joined Odetta for a bluesy version of another classic, "Mary Don't You Weep." Their voices went together quite well, reminding me of another fine rendition by Take 6 on their initial album from 1988.

Well if I could I surely would
Stand on the rock where Moses stood
Pharaoh's army got drownded
O Mary don't you weep

O Mary don't you weep, don't you mourn
O Mary don't you weep, don't you mourn
Pharaoh's army got drownded
O Mary don't you weep

Both Odetta and Take 6 will be touring in early 2008.

I have been listening to a fantastic recording of an incredible performance of J. S. Bach's Magnificat, as I do every year especially at this time. I am dying to share some of the liner notes with you but, alas, have not secured permission to do so, so you'll just have to purchase it for yourself! Or at least check the listening samples.* Written for Christmas Vespers in Leipzig (Lutheran service) in the year 1723, Magnificat, BWV 243a, is here rendered on original instruments or authentic reproductions according to the best available scholarship on performance practice of the time, by the New London Consort under the direction of Philip Pickett.

The English translation of the (Latin) libretto to the Magnificat:

I CHORUS My soul doth magnify the Lord.

II ARIA – Soprano II And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.

A CHORUS I come down from Heaven above, bringing you good news;
I bring you good news of which I shall tell you.
[well-known chorale, von Himmel hoch, libretto
in German]

III ARIA – Soprano I For he hath regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden;
For behold from henceforth I shall be called blessed

IV CHORUS by all generations.

V ARIA – Bass For He that is mighty hath magnified me: and holy is his Name.

B CHORUS Rejoice and sing with gladness:
in Bethlehem you will find
the dear baby Jesus,
who will be your delight and joy.

VI DUET – Alto, Tenor And His mercy is on them that fear
Him throughout all generations.

VII CHORUS He hath shewed strength with His arm:
He hath scattered the proud in the
imagination of their hearts.

C CHORUS Glory to God in the highest
and on earth peace to men of goodwill.

VIII ARIA – Tenor He hath put down the mighty from their seat
and hath exalted the humble and meek.

IX ARIA – Alto He hath filled the hungry with good things;
and the rich He hath sent empty away.

D DUET – Soprano I, Bass Jesse’s stem has blossomed,
our Emmanuel has appeared:
He has put on human flesh,
and become a delightful child.
Alleluia.

X TRIO – Soprano I,
Soprano II, Alto He remembering his mercy
hath holpen His servant Israel.

XI CHORUS As He promised to our forefathers,
Abraham and his seed, forever.

XII CHORUS Glory be to the Father, and to the Son
and to the Holy Ghost;
As it was now in the beginning, is now and ever shall be,
world without end.
Amen.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

*There is spectacular natural-trumpet playing on this recording; see tracks 1, 7, 9, and 17 especially (first 7 tracks are Cantata BWV 63, "Christen, atzet diesen Tag.")

This is one of the hymns sung at the memorial service for my mother-in-law this past weekend, accompanied by a brass group of family members (of which I was one). When we chose it, I don't believe we knew that the last two verses were written when the composer's brother's wife was dying; we merely chose hymns that Mema liked. (Interestingly, this hymn was also chosen for an upcoming Sunday at my church, completely independently.)

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

Refrain

At the risk of spoiling a good moment with my chatter, I just want to say that what I especially like about this hymn is that it affirms that our hope is not found in whether we "feel" God's presence or seem to be "experiencing" Him or not, but in Him Himself. When our very soul gives way, He is our hope and stay.

Amen.

This morning I was late to church. But you can't say I missed worship...

As I started the car, strains of Mozart's Requiem Mass flowed from the radio, part of a broadcast honoring the 252nd anniversary of Mozart's birth. As I left the driveway, sounds of the Lacrimosa began to sink in, and soon I was undone. It's a good thing the church is only 8 minutes away and traffic is minimal. (The rest of my family had left earlier.)

I sat, then, in the church parking lot, listening, and allowing the Requiem to take me (if briefly) through the process of mourning. I only regret not tuning in sooner. First was the Lacrimosa, slow, tender, and deeply sad:

Mournful that day
When from the dust shall rise
Guilty man to be judged.
Therefore spare him, O God.
Merciful Jesu,
Lord Grant them rest.

Then the intensity, and peacefulness, of the Domine Jesu (Offertorium): Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory, deliver the souls of all the faithful departed from the pains of hell and from the bottomless pit...

and the Hostias: We offer unto Thee this sacrifice of prayer and praise. Receive it for those souls whom today we commemorate. Allow them, O Lord, to cross from death into the life which once Thou didst promise to Abraham and his seed.

Especially poignant in these sections are the Picardy-third endings, where a minor passage ends (resolves) on a major chord. The music, especially as rendered in the recording I heard, by the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (linked), is so hauntingly, achingly, richly, spectacularly (keep adding superlatives) beautiful...

Then, the exuberance of the Sanctus and its concluding fugue:
Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God of Sabaoth.
Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.
Hosanna in the highest.

And the repose of the Benedictus, again ending in a cheerful fugue:
Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.

The mood turns dark and brooding again at the outset of the Agnus Dei, but then shifts to a major tonality and a thoughtful vein, ending with passion:
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,
grant them rest.

And, finally, the Lux Aeterna (Communio), beginning with shimmering beauty in the soprano solo, followed by the choir's joyful strength:
May eternal light shine on them, O Lord.
with Thy saints for ever, because
Thou art merciful.
Grant the dead eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them,
with Thy saints for ever,
because Thou are merciful.

Amen.

You can say what you want about Mozart the man, but his musical genius was fabulously, fantastically inspired.

I also recall my one and only brief visit to Vienna, many years ago. In the short time I had to "sightsee" before playing a concert, I rushed through St. Stephanskirche and the Mozart museum. The last exhibit I saw was pages of manuscript, in Mozart's hand, of the Requiem. (He died while writing it.) Today it is housed in Vienna's Haus der Musik.

This morning on my way to the local Memorial Day parade (in which my "boys" were marching), I heard excerpts from Haydn's Misse in tempore belli on the radio. What is unique about this Mass is its extensive use of tympani, hence its popular name Paukenmesse, or Kettle-drum Mass. The Mass was written in 1796 after Haydn's return to Vienna, during a time when Austria feared the approach of Napoleon.

The rendition I heard was, no surprise, exquisitely done by the English Baroque Soloists, Monteverdi choir and vocal soloists. I highly recommend it.

Listen to the whole thing.

And if we threw it all away, things can only get better.

(added bonus: live horn section)
(additional bonus: and the hair, and the orange satin suit, and...Charlie Chaplin?)

you probably didn't know about Pink Floyd.

(Don't ask where that one came from. Here, I'll tell you: I heard part of a Pink Floyd radio retrospective over Thanksgiving weekend and it brought back memories...)

...to purchase a Sing the Word CD for that special child in your life (think stocking stuffers!) The six-CD series is designed for children 4-12, but it's enjoyable (and suitable) for all ages who wish to memorize key verses of Scripture to some great original music. My brother-in-law Steve Harrow is the composer and studio technician, owner of quite the musical pedigree as well as sound studio in which he and various family members recorded these songs. Musicians include his wife Anne (my husband's sister), their kids, my husband and I, and a couple of our kids.

Check out the listening samples and the 20% special Christmas discount. And give the gifts of both Scripture and music, benefits of which last a lifetime!