Hodie Christus natus est;
hodie salvator apparuit;
hodie in terra canunt angeli;
laetantur arcangeli;
hodie, exultant justici, dicentes:
Gloria in excelsis Deo!
Alleluia!
--Text from the Latin Christmas Mass
Today Christ is born;
today the savior appears;
today the angels sing on earth;
the archangels rejoice;
today, the just exult, saying:
Glory to God in the highest!
Alleluia!
Have a blessed Christmas season!
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
O magnum mysterium
This past weekend was busy to the point of madness; in addition to my singing in four concerts in three days, my husband and I hosted my parents and one sister for the weekend and had a Gaudete Sunday brunch for our visitors and my husband's parents, sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. I'm tired today, but it was truly wonderful to spend time with family and to participate in such beautiful concerts.
Years ago, Robert Shaw started the tradition of Christmas concerts with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Choruses. When Shaw passed, the baton went to another local conductor who was less sensitive to the very religious nature of the programs Shaw had always selected and chose instead to do a more secular concert. It was nice enough, but attendance waned and the concerts lost their luster.
The baton passed again this year to Norman Mackenzie, the ASO Director of Choruses. I could go on for a really long time about how wonderful Norman is as a conductor and as a person, but that's another post. Suffice it to say that I count myself very privileged to sing under his direction.
It's always been fascinating to me how the same group of singers and instrumentalists can behave and react so differently to different conductors. There was a spirit present in this year's concerts that wasn't there in the three previous years I sang in this concert series. I can't explain it, but it was there nonetheless. People understood that this was something special and holy -- much of the music had the aching Advent sense of longing for Christ and/or marveling at God's incredible love and humility.
The two best pieces on the concert were, to me, Morten Lauridsen's "O Magnum Mysterium," sung a cappella by the ASO Chorus, and Olatunji's "Betelehemu," sung and accompanied by the Morehouse Glee Club. Two more completely different pieces of music it's hard to find, yet both of them were so beautiful that I found myself choking up at the same point in each song during each performance. (If you know the pieces, it was the soprano descant alleluia in the Lauridsen and the final refrain after the solo verse in "Betelehemu.") The Lauridsen was just piercingly exquisite, and "Betelehemu" was so full of joy.
As a member of the ASO chorus, I've had multiple opportunities to sing beautiful music with a chorus that sings beautifully well. I love and enjoy many of the works we've performed over the past several years, but there's very little that touches me in the same way that this concert of predominantly sacred music touches me. The only thing that saddens me is that for most people, the only time they'll hear music of this caliber is in a concert hall, not in a church.
Years ago, Robert Shaw started the tradition of Christmas concerts with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Choruses. When Shaw passed, the baton went to another local conductor who was less sensitive to the very religious nature of the programs Shaw had always selected and chose instead to do a more secular concert. It was nice enough, but attendance waned and the concerts lost their luster.
The baton passed again this year to Norman Mackenzie, the ASO Director of Choruses. I could go on for a really long time about how wonderful Norman is as a conductor and as a person, but that's another post. Suffice it to say that I count myself very privileged to sing under his direction.
It's always been fascinating to me how the same group of singers and instrumentalists can behave and react so differently to different conductors. There was a spirit present in this year's concerts that wasn't there in the three previous years I sang in this concert series. I can't explain it, but it was there nonetheless. People understood that this was something special and holy -- much of the music had the aching Advent sense of longing for Christ and/or marveling at God's incredible love and humility.
The two best pieces on the concert were, to me, Morten Lauridsen's "O Magnum Mysterium," sung a cappella by the ASO Chorus, and Olatunji's "Betelehemu," sung and accompanied by the Morehouse Glee Club. Two more completely different pieces of music it's hard to find, yet both of them were so beautiful that I found myself choking up at the same point in each song during each performance. (If you know the pieces, it was the soprano descant alleluia in the Lauridsen and the final refrain after the solo verse in "Betelehemu.") The Lauridsen was just piercingly exquisite, and "Betelehemu" was so full of joy.
As a member of the ASO chorus, I've had multiple opportunities to sing beautiful music with a chorus that sings beautifully well. I love and enjoy many of the works we've performed over the past several years, but there's very little that touches me in the same way that this concert of predominantly sacred music touches me. The only thing that saddens me is that for most people, the only time they'll hear music of this caliber is in a concert hall, not in a church.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Pranks and cruelty
Fair warning -- this isn't going to be a happy post.
A student's home has been vandalized three times in the past two months. Not that vandalism isn't bad enough, but these particular miscreants have spray-painted homophobic epithets in several places on the house (including the garage door), causing thousands of dollars worth of damage to the house and untold emotional damage to this young man and his mother.
Right now, there's no reason to believe that it is another student who is committing these crimes. But there's also no reason to believe that it isn't, and that's what has me feeling heartsick.
I looked at the pictures of the words "GAY (Student's Name)" spray-painted in eight-foot high red letters on the garage door that our principal showed the senior class this morning in an assembly discussing the problem and wanted to vomit. I still can't wrap my head around why somebody would do something like this. I don't know if the kid is gay or not, and frankly, I don't really care. It's none of my business. He's a successful kid with an amazing athletic talent -- he could conceivably go to the Olympics someday -- who makes good grades, isn't a troublemaker or a clown, and is just generally a nice, serious, decent young man. Not that it would somehow be okay if he were a total jerk, but his being a good guy just adds insult to injury.
What is so wrong with someone that he or she feels the need to tear another human being down? To be so incredibly cowardly and hateful? To rob someone of the right to feel safe in his own home? Why should this young man's memory of his senior year of high school include this?
I don't know what to say or what to think. How can people be so hateful?
A student's home has been vandalized three times in the past two months. Not that vandalism isn't bad enough, but these particular miscreants have spray-painted homophobic epithets in several places on the house (including the garage door), causing thousands of dollars worth of damage to the house and untold emotional damage to this young man and his mother.
Right now, there's no reason to believe that it is another student who is committing these crimes. But there's also no reason to believe that it isn't, and that's what has me feeling heartsick.
I looked at the pictures of the words "GAY (Student's Name)" spray-painted in eight-foot high red letters on the garage door that our principal showed the senior class this morning in an assembly discussing the problem and wanted to vomit. I still can't wrap my head around why somebody would do something like this. I don't know if the kid is gay or not, and frankly, I don't really care. It's none of my business. He's a successful kid with an amazing athletic talent -- he could conceivably go to the Olympics someday -- who makes good grades, isn't a troublemaker or a clown, and is just generally a nice, serious, decent young man. Not that it would somehow be okay if he were a total jerk, but his being a good guy just adds insult to injury.
What is so wrong with someone that he or she feels the need to tear another human being down? To be so incredibly cowardly and hateful? To rob someone of the right to feel safe in his own home? Why should this young man's memory of his senior year of high school include this?
I don't know what to say or what to think. How can people be so hateful?
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