Inspiration in music

As some of you know, I am a classical cellist & cello teacher in addition to my full-time job as mama to Elisabeth and James.

I have pretty eclectic taste in music ~ I like everything from Renaissance music to my favorite band for the last, well, many years, Dave Matthews Band. But the music of Bach is my true love. I have often said that I hope the last thing I hear before I die is the sound of Bach's music. (And no, I am not superstitious about that.)

One thing has been on my mind for the last couple weeks more than any other music:

Bach Cantatas BWV 82 & 199 ~ Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, mezzo-soprano

Edited: A cantata is a religious vocal work written to accompany the Sundays and feasts of the year, in Bach's case in the Lutheran church.

I could listen to this all day long, especially the opening Aria of BWV 82, "Ich habe genug". I normally would not describe either the oboe or mezzo-soprano voice as favorites of mine, but in this setting, they are both otherworldly.

The melody is hauntingly beautiful, and the oboe's timbre -- so opposite to the warm, deep resonance of my own instrument -- is perfectly plaintive here. Michael Steinberg, in his liner notes, describes the melody as "both ornate and achingly expressive," which perfectly describes it, I believe. Far from being angst-ridden or whiny, it's deeply peaceful, and perfect for a snowy winter day. The string accompaniment is murmuring and just sparse enough -- Bach was a true genius.

And Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's singing? Oh, my, just a little bit of heaven! She's achieved a perfect balance of expression and restraint. She was originally a violist before her singing career took off, though, and I think that explains her approach a bit. She has a lovely, light voice; it's mellow, but also full of pain when appropriate.

So there's my music review for anyone wondering if that snippet about my being a musician on my About page was for real. It is! And I encourage all of you, regardless of your feelings one way or the other about classical and/or classical vocal music, to listen to this at your first opportunity! (It is available on iTunes, for you technophiles.)

PS: We had Elisabeth saying that Bach was "the greatest composer that ever lived" when she was 20 months old. ;)

Morning

I just wish to thank everyone who has been leaving me such kind comments, and Jenn, for her very sweet recent post. I really feel the love; thank you so much.

Have you visited 3191 yet? Wow, talk about inspiring! I think it's worth the cost of my internet connection alone.

I am a closet morning person. I am really struggling with coming to terms with this fact, because I've always gone to bed late and gotten up late. But I hate staying up late. I am not a huge fan of dragging myself out of bed early in the morning, either, but when I do, I function so much better in the morning hours.

Looking at mav & Stephanie's beautiful images on 3191 over the last couple weeks has really gotten me to thinking about morningtime, and what I want our mornings to look and feel like. I certainly do not want the morning to be full of chaos. I believe that the mood of the morning really sets the tone for the rest of the day. I want to strive to make mornings a more peaceful, quiet, and centered time in our lives. (Right now they are just kind of free-form and "messy" -- fortunately we don't have the "getting out the door" problem to make it really challenging!)

So, since it's January, I'm resolving to create more peaceful mornings for my wee ones and me this year.

Martinmas lanterns

One of the things that I like about Waldorf education is its seasonal focus; the emphasis on traditional festivals throughout the year and the way that the natural world is part of this. Some of the festivals seem so far removed from our modern, far-too-fast-paced lives, but I believe that celebrating them and letting them resonate for us today helps to ground us, and to understand where we are coming from and where we are going.

I found myself being especially drawn to Martinmas (Nov. 11) this year. For our ancestors, this time of the year, falling almost exactly between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice (or the natural "new beginnings" of autumn and the quiet and peace of winter right at Christmas), was an important time to remember that the light would yet return. Because I have been struggling with my own "inner darkness" this year, holding onto the belief that there is light, and it will come back to me, has become very important indeed.

Of course, I don't go into my struggles with inner darkness, etc., with my children. For my four-year-old, this was a fun craft project and a charming holiday celebration which involved getting to go on a walk after dark and receiving a gift. (Inspired by an idea in Festivals, Family, and Food, we have a tradition of setting out a little tray for her which has an apple, an orange, a new warm woolen item of clothing [this year, a pair of cozy wool socks], and a little piece of chocolate for her to find on the morning of Martinmas -- it's always so thrilling!)

So, here we are in the process of making the lanterns. It took four work sessions over the course of one week.

Painting:

Oiling the paintings (we used cheap cooking oil):

(Elisabeth did not want to be in this picture)

Gluing:

All lit up (behind them you can see the remnant of our Michaelmas candle):