Has the thought ever occurred to you that the author/composer/performer of a famous work has a life that’s totally separate from that work? It’s one of those obvious-but-overlooked kind of things. For example, I remember wondering about the life of Sir John Tavener back when my choir sang “The Lamb” for a Christmas concert. He had said about that piece, “‘The Lamb’ came to me fully grown and was written in an afternoon and dedicated to my nephew Simon for his 3rd birthday.” The piece became extremely popular, so much so that there are probably many people who automatically associate Tavener with this piece when they hear his name, just as they associate Beethoven with “dah-dah-dah-DAH.” (Well, Beethoven’s Fifth may be a little more well known.) Or Handel with “The Hallelujah Chorus.” I was particularly struck with the Tavener story because he spent so little time actually writing the piece (if he’s telling the truth, and I assume he is). One afternoon’s effort changed his life, forever associating him with that piece.
You just never know what you’re going to find out when you google something! I assumed (a common action for me) that Franz Biebl was someone who lived several hundred years ago, as the music has a very old-ish feel to me. Perhaps he lived in the 1600’s or 1700’s? And it certainly would never have occurred to me that:
I’ve done my usual going-far-afield process in trying to decipher this carol, and found that, as usual, Liberties Have Been Taken with the original text, this one from Catalonia. (That’s a region of Spain that speaks a dialect called Catalan; you may be aware that there’s a separatist movement there that seeks to have independence from Spain. The tune, by the way, is apparently Catalonian also, as I’ve seen no composer’s name anywhere.) To start off this post, then, here’s the original text and a quite literal translation:
These two items show up all over the place in Christmas music. This verse from the modern carol “In the Silence” by Craig Courtney with words incorporating an Appalachian folk song is particularly pointed, as it includes the symbolism quite plainly:
Yes, it has. But that’s what always happens. If successive generations couldn’t put their own stamp on sources, we’d be pretty limited in what we could read, see and hear. There’s a theory that there are only around seven plots that show up in every piece of fiction ever written. I’m not sure that I quite buy that, but it’s certainly true that the same themes show up over and over again. We never tire of true love’s triumph, for instance. And I am especially fond of fairy tales, having devoured so many of them when I was in grade school. How exciting it always was to go to the bookmobile with my mom and see what new choices were there. If a book had the word “fairy” in the title, I was game.
I assumed that the answer to the above question was “yes.” (And I have to admit here that I’ve never seen this movie or its live musical version. Our family has never been great fans of the Disney animated features, with the exception of Beauty and the Beast. But maybe now I’ll watch it, because I’ve gotten very intrigued by its creation.) So anyway, The Lion King has the distinction of being a Disney animated film based on an original story rather than a known source. .png)
As I often say when writing these posts: Hoo boy. There ended up being lots to say about this supposedly simple song. My purpose in writing this post, as with all that I do, is to deepen your understanding of what you’re singing (or hearing, if you’re reading this post as an audience member). Along with the lighthearted words and fun arrangement of this piece there’s a darker background arising from its source material, both immediate and historical.
There are so many ideas packed into the texts of Lux Aeterna that it’s hard to know what to include. But since the main juxtaposition is that of light vs. darkness, I thought it would be interesting for my second essay on this masterpiece to look at other pairs of opposites before I regretfully move on to other pieces in our concert. (Next week: the deep inner meanings of “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah.”)
Well . . . that depends. Probably the best answer is that there’s only one: God Himself. The first creative act of God recorded in the Bible, in the book of Genesis, concerns light: “And God said, Let there be light: and there was light” (Gen. 1:3 KJV). When we get to the last chapter of the last book of the Christian New Testament we see the same idea: “And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light” (Rev. 22:5 KJV). All through the piece there are references to light that have clear origins. I don’t want to give so many that I wear out your patience, so here are just three (using the translations printed in our sheet music):