Independence Day

Mom and Dad are home on a visit from Israel.  I can't really say that they are "on vacation" because they are both still working hard, Dad on his translation work, and Mom on writing music for the Hebrew psalms.  But it is nice to have them here, and to hear more about Israel and the work they are doing there.

This week has been an unusual one in some ways.  It is comforting to have my parents here at this time.  Besides prayer, there's not much I can do, but to "keep calm and carry on" as the British say.

Carrying on, then: last Monday was Independence Day.

If I were an ambitious blogger, I might tackle a nice controversial topic appropriate to the holiday--for example: is America really a Christian nation?  Or, were the colonists justified in rebelling against the British government?

But I'm not feeling particularly ambitious today, so instead I will post pictures of adorable little children enjoying The Quintessential American Independence Day.

(Adorable, right?) 

What is The Quintessential American Independence Day, you ask?  Why, a beautiful sunny day on which you go to a barbecue, of course, and eat hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon and corn on the cob and brownies on paper plates, and drink sweet tea and coffee, all while sitting in lawn chairs beneath shade trees with friends and relatives of at least three generations,

from grandmother

to youngest grandchild,

and the children ride trikes and wagons around in the driveway,

and swing on the tire swing,

and run laughing through the sprinkler in the sunshine.

And in the evening (if the kids aren't too tired) you head downtown to hear the free outdoor concert and see the fireworks.  The concert has to include Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Yes, we are fully aware that the 1812 Overture doesn't have anything to do with American independence, but it's an Independence Day tradition anyway, especially when accompanied by live cannons and followed by a fireworks show.

Here's a video of the 1812 Overture.  I had a hard time selecting a video from Youtube, but in the end I went with this one because it had the best cannons.  Elijah reads my blog, and I like to cater to my audience. :) Enjoy!

I Like It

One of the young people (Sam maybe?) discovered this one.

I like it.  Maybe you will too.

Leo Siberski conducts the Danse Bacchanale, from "Samson & Delilah" by Saint-Saens.

Lined Out Singing, Primitive Baptist Style

A few weeks ago, Jesh and I were looking at psalm singing videos online, and came across this video.  These are some Primitive Baptists singing the hymn Amazing Grace, a capella, lined out with a precentor.



The people in this video are walking around shaking hands and greeting one another as they sing, which is kind of distracting, but you get the idea anyway.  Watch for the precentor who comes into view about six minutes in.

I recognize that this video will be entertaining to those who are used to hearing lined-out singing done Gaelic style--and I can't blame you for smiling when they sing "warsh" instead of "wash."  :)  But in my personal opinion, it's also kind of beautiful.  I think that music is almost always beautiful, and stirring, when performed from the heart by humble, ordinary people.  Even more so, of course, when it's the Word of God that is being sung (i.e. the Psalms of David).

Our next psalm sing, or psalmody class, or whatever you would like to call it, is this Saturday.  Lunch at noon, singing to follow; I'm looking forward to seeing at least a few of you there. :)

Reasons Why

Isn't this a pretty picture?  This is at George Bush Park on the west side of Houston, just after an impressive thunderstorm had passed overhead.  After I took this picture, I decided to follow that path over the hill, to see where it went.  But first I had to put my purse in my trunk.  I popped the trunk, got out of the car with my purse, locked and shut the doors....

....and then realized that my keys were still in the ignition.  *sigh*

George Bush Park is almost an hour's drive from my house.  I had to borrow a vehicle (thankfully, this was an option), get the boys, drive home to get my spare key, drive back to get my car, and then (finally) drive home again.

I firmly believe that all things happen for a reason.  As I drove (and drove, and drove), I wondered why it was that I must make such a foolish mistake, and drive an extra two hours, on that particular Tuesday.  Of course, the obvious answer is, "to learn not to be so absent-minded," but how, exactly?  The only thing I could think to tell myself was "remember to remember things," which, let's face it, isn't particularly helpful. 

Well, perhaps there's a profound lesson hiding somewhere in my experience last Tuesday.  Or perhaps I was just meant to hear the spectacular performance of Handel's Messiah that was playing on the radio late that night. :)  You know, Elijah was sound asleep in his carseat as The Messiah was playing, but the next day I heard him singing to himself, "For the Lord God omni-potent reign-eth, forever, forever..." 



I am happy to have rediscovered this piece, definitely one of my favorites.  If the 80's hairdos are hurting your eyes, you could try watching this performance instead: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3TUWU_yg4s
I would have posted it here, but the "embed" option is disabled.

Shape Note Singing!!

I was following yet another internet rabbit trail the other day (don't you love those internet rabbit trails).  I started out googling church acoustics.  Jeshurun has done a lot reading about church acoustics and has a lot of opinions, and I wanted to see if he was right (he was, of course).  I happened across this site which contains really nice clips of a capella singing done in an old church building with excellent acoustics.

Prairie Harmony song samples

I shared some of the clips with Jesh and he said "Hmmm, shape note singing is usually much more vigorous."  Shape note singing?  Huh?  I hadn't heard of that.  So of course, I turned to wikipedia and Google.  Turns out that shape notes are a type of musical notation which originated in 18th century America, in which every note is a different shape; this is supposed to aid congregational singing by making sight reading easier.  Shape note songbooks are still used today by several churches in the South, like the Primitive Baptists, and by other groups such as the Mennonites.

A subset of shape-note singing is the Sacred Harp tradition (nice sample there on the Wikipedia page).  Sacred Harp singing is generally not done in church services, but in gatherings in homes or larger venues.  Singers sit in a square facing one another, with each part on one side.  Singing is a capella and the pitch is set by a leader.  Melodies are polyphonic and often on a minor scale with lots of fourths and fifths (I only barely understand these terms, just including them for those of you who know what they mean. :) )

I came across a Sacred Harp Singing in Texas website that was pretty interesting.  Please take a minute to click on the "Sound Clip from Southwest Texas Convention."  Jesh said it might be the best shape note singing he's heard, and if you know Jesh, you know that those are pretty strong words.

Then I had a flash of inspiration.  "I wonder if I can find shape note singing on Youtube."  Well, duh.  Here's a nice example of a fuging tune.
If you want to hear more, search "Sacred Harp" or "shape note singing" on Youtube.

Sacred Harp singing is enjoying a resurgence in popularity.  Sacred Harp singings can be found in many locations (several in Houston, actually) and in many places, one can find all-day regional singings, complete with an afternoon pitch-in meal.  Why is Sacred Harp singing so popular?  An article entitled "The Initial Appeal of Sacred Harp," on the Sacred Harp Singing in Texas site, explains its appeal as follows: the music is powerful and joyful yet mournful at the same time, it's an emotional and spiritual experience, everyone is welcome to participate regardless of their singing ability, participants share a strong sense of community and fellowship, and singers feel connected with history as they sing the songs the way they've been sung for hundreds of years.

Sound familiar?  Many of us are part of an even older and richer musical tradition.  We sing songs written three thousand years ago, and set to meter at the end of the Protestant Reformation.  We sing the songs to tunes written over a span of several centuries.  And the songs we sing were inspired by our Father and are suited for worshipping Him unlike any song written by man.  May we who sing the Psalms of David never lose sight of the blessing that is ours.

All right, here it is

My speakers still aren't really working--I had to hold the speakers up to my ear to hear this, but it sounds good enough to do for now. I might edit to change the video later.

Saturday mornings in the summer, the boys and I like to go to our local farmer's market. The local farmers' market is more than just booths selling fruits and vegetables, potted plants, honey, and locally raised meats--there are also usually a number of musical performances to see. You might see anything ranging from the lone musician with his/her instrument and/or voice, to a small orchestra set up on the plaza in front of city hall, and everything in between. They might be playing anything from traditional folk music to jazz to classical. Suffice it to say that for those who appreciate good live music, our local farmer's market is quite a treat.

Anyway, one summer morning I took Elijah into city hall to use the bathroom. Sitting in the lobby was an Asian man playing an instrument that I'd never seen before, with a long neck and a bow (later I learned that it was probably a traditional Chinese instrument like an erhu). The music was unlike anything I'd ever heard, and breathtakingly beautiful. The acoustics in the building were perfect for a lone musician of that sort. Sadly, the farmer's market was drawing to a close, and after a few minutes he packed his instrument away. I left wondering what the instrument was and wishing that I could have heard more.

Then a few weeks ago I was listening to NPR late in the morning, and heard the following piece. The violin music sounds much like the music I heard that morning last summer. I was thrilled and of course wrote down the name of the piece to look up later. I'm a little disappointed that the instrument played here is the violin rather than the traditional Chinese instrument, but the violin here is played in a similar style and sounds quite beautiful. Enjoy!

The Planets

The boys and I were returning from an errand last night when Elijah said, "Look, Mama, I see two bright stars." I took a look and realized that what he was seeing were planets, not stars. We talked about the difference between planets and stars, and how you can tell them apart (stars twinkle, planets don't), and I promised to look online to find out what planets we were seeing. At home, I learned that Venus and Jupiter are converging in the southwestern sky just after sunset; on December 1st they will be joined by a crescent moon to make two eyes and a frowning mouth. :) We will be watching.

Prior to this, Elijah's only exposure to the term "planets" was in the context of the piece "The Planets" by Gustav Holst. Our favorite is Mars, the Bringer of War, and this is our favorite video:



I also like Jupiter, especially the beginning of it, and there's a video on Youtube of a performance by the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Eiji Oue. I think Mr. Oue is an interesting conductor to watch--he is really dramatic. But in the end I think I prefer the version by the orchestra/conductor I posted here (not sure who this conductor or orchestra is--can't find the info). ETA: See comments section--this is the Tokyo City Philharmonic, conducted by Taijiro Iimori.

I love being a mom, and seeing the world through children's eyes. If it weren't for Elijah, I would probably have driven home lost in my own thoughts, and totally missed this celestial phenomenon. :)

Oh, another thing Elijah said on the way home: "Mama, I can hear the Willum Tell Overture--it's playing in my head!" *pause* "Can you hear it?"

a rainy day

Today was hot and humid and overcast. This evening we went to the park. My boys played for all of two minutes on the huge, fantastic playground, then wanted to go see the waterfall. (This particular park is situated in a narrow valley with steep sides and, in one spot, a waterfall). I am always tickled when my boys choose nature over big playgrounds. :) So we crossed the street and went down the long, windy trail through the woods to the waterfall. It was drizzling rain and the light was dim in the woods, which were much more lush and green than the last time we went--how long has it been? When we got to the waterfall, the boys entertained themselves by climbing around on the slippery rocks and throwing pebbles into the water. Well, they were supposed to be throwing pebbles, but Elijah preferred to throw rather large stones, which made me nervous as his aim is still a little wild. After a bit we headed back down the trail and out of the woods.

And then, we came to the highlight of our trip: the mud puddles in the gravel parking lot. Yes, the mud puddles were the highlight, apparently more interesting than either the huge playground, or the beautiful waterfall. The boys started out by watching the ripples caused by the raindrops hitting the puddles; then they made ripples of their own by tossing in some gravel...and then Noah accidentally stepped into the puddle with a splash, and a look of sheer delight crossed his face. Of course then I had to take off his shoes and let him splash away. Elijah quickly followed suit. I watched and smiled and looked around at the trees and the water and thought about how much I will miss Bloomington when we leave. After a while I packed my very wet boys back into the car and brought them home and put them to bed.

As Elijah was going to sleep, he sat up and whispered loudly, "Mama, I want to watch the Willum Tell Overture tomorrow." I said "Okay dear, now go to sleep." But he wanted to clarify: "I want to watch it lots of times." "Yes dear, we can do that, now go to sleep." He laid back down and whispered, "I like that kind of music, Mama." Yes, the William Tell Overture (our "piece of the week") has been a smashing success in this household, and before lunch every day we watch this clip over, and over, and over:



The William Tell Overture, as played by the Berlin Philharmonic, conducted by Claudio Abbado.

We like the part where the rain begins to fall, and all the umbrellas open up. :)

Okay, I have a sewing project to complete.