Vox Lucens

The past couple of weeks have been highly busy, but wonderful from a number of different perspectives. One of those perspectives is that of concert-going. First, of course, was the artistry of Chanticleer, and this past weekend was another concert that I’ve been wanting to go to for a long time: Riverdance.

Ever since photography became a hobby a whopping, oh, six months ago or so I have grown accustomed to taking my camera with me more or less everywhere. Whenever I don’t have it with me, I generally find some way to wish I did, and concerts, where photography is disallowed, are no different. But in some ways, I’m very glad that I couldn’t attempt to take pictures of Riverdance; there’s no way my feeble attempts at photography could have captured even a fraction of the awesomeness of the concert.

I’m not normally a dance person. I love concerts of many varieties, so I wouldn’t dismiss, say, a ballet out of hand, but if I’m going to choose a concert it will almost always center around the music. And the music of Riverdance was superb. The fiddle, the bagpipes, the wooden flute, even the percussion got their well-deserved time in the limelight, and the fast-paced but cohesive structure of the program always left the audience hoping for more. Combine that with the ethereal vocals and the outstanding baritone soloist; well, I got far more excellent music than I bargained for.

But in spite of the quality of the music, it was overshadowed by the breathtaking dancing. I’m no expert, but I tend to be hard to impress - and “impressed” is far too small a term to describe what I thought. Not all of it was that superb, granted; they could have left out the Flamenco and Middle East ditties (both with an Irish flair, of course) and I wouldn’t have missed them, but the core of the program, the amazing Irish step dancing, was unbelievable. I wish I could describe it. The tap rhythms, the gymnastics, the passion and the humor, just never got old.

Great music, great dancing…great show.

At any rate, I also found a few things I could take pictures of…

Perhaps it was the Irish music, perhaps it was the gorgeous roses, or perhaps it was something else, but I couldn’t help but think of one of my favorite Irish love ballads from back when I used to sing this sort of thing regularly.

The Rose of Tralee

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea,
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain
That stands in the beautiful vale of Tralee

She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer
Yet ’twas not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh no! ’twas the truth in her eye ever beaming,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee…

The Psalmist loves to give lists of instruments that we can use to praise God. Some of those lists are pretty long, but I’m adding a new instrument today. You see, in spite of my name, I’m not much of a trumpeter - but when I need to blow my nose, you would never know it. If the nose-blowing was in any way musical, I could give Dizzy Gillespie a run for his money. (And if there are ever sequels made for old classics, I’m fully ready to play opposite Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Mucous.”)

*ducks*

Somehow, getting sick reminds me of all of the things that I have to be grateful for. After running myself ragged last week, I have a horrible sinus infection, and am therefore in just such a boat right now!

But what a praise list I have. Even when I feel completely overwhelmed, I can’t help but remember the blessings that have been rained down in buckets on my life. Being sick reminds me of just how often I am healthy. Being run ragged reminds me of the privilege that it is to be doing God’s work.

Sometimes it’s the big things that make me smile, and sometimes all it takes are the little blessings…

• The clerk in the Wal-Mart photo center that got all concerned when I gave her a couple of my pictures for trimming - they don’t do professional photos, you see, because of copyright issues. She seemed genuinely shocked when I told her they were mine.
• The beauty of thunderstorms.
• Playing volleyball.
• Having people remind me that it has been a week since I last blogged, and ask for a new post!
• Nasal decongestant.

And so, I’m trumpeting His praise - muted only by Kleenex Ultra-Soft!

Walking through the streets of Alexandria on my recent trip to Virginia, I noticed a church with a few flyers out front. In walking by, I noticed just enough big print to firmly catch my attention. It said “Suspicious Cheese Lords” and presented them as a male ancient music vocal ensemble in concert.

So I grabbed a paper, stuffed it in a pocket, and forgot about it for a month. After the Bar, I pulled it back out, and found to my joy that not only is the Suspicious Cheese Lords a brilliant name for a group, it actually is based on logic.

he Suspicious Cheese Lords’ name is derived from the title of a Thomas Tallis motet, Suscipe quaeso Domine. While “translating” the title, it was observed that Suscipe could be “suspicious,” quaeso is close to the Spanish word queso meaning “cheese,” and Domine is, of course, “Lord.” Hence, the title of the motet was clearly “Suspicious Cheese Lord” - which in time became adopted as the group’s name. Although their name is humorous, the group appreciates the literal translation of Suscipe Quaeso Domine, which is, “Take, I ask, Lord.” Suspiciously, the Cheese Lords have yet to perform this motet.

Visit their website.

And their music is awesome! I’ve already detailed some of my affinity for medieval music, and this is a great addition. Their vocals are well-blended, and the music as glorious as its composers are unknown. Check ‘em out!

When I got home from holiday travel, my monthly CD from yourmusic.com was waiting for me. It was a little like a Christmas present to myself, mostly for the reason that I couldn’t remember what was in my queue for December, and when I opened it I was delighted at my ability to purchase the perfect gift for myself.

You see, I have always loved Medieval music, and while I have nothing against composers like Praetorius who worked primarily with instrumental settings, I love the vocal music. (Who can resist composers with such names as Giovanni Perluigi de Palestrina or Abbess Hildegard von Bingen?)

Music is my emotional release, and somehow, in a way I can’t even begin to explain, the beautiful polyphony that comes out of the middle ages captures my emotions like little other music can. So over the past couple of days I have enjoyed a little personal musical renaissance back into the music I have loved so long, and I thought I’d share some of my favorites.

Third Book of Lamentations

This was the CD that waited for me when I arrived at home, and after listening to it a dozen times or so in the past two days, it has arrived at the top of my medieval list. The music is unbelievable, and the vocal interpretation pristine. The harmonies are lush and well-balanced, and I can’t get enough of it.

Magnificat

Chanticleer in all of their a capella brilliance. Pulling from a variety of composers, this CD never ceases to amaze me with its depth. It was easily my favorite until I got the first CD on this list…

Evening Prayer

OK, so Henry Purcell is not specifically medieval. But he, more than many other early Baroque composers, seems to pull in the beauty of medieval music into a more modern Baroque sound. This CD is the setting of Psalms into absolutely uplifting beauty. This is one of my older CDs–I have had it for a number of years, and never tire of its powerful elegance.

A Christmas Present from Polyphony

This one hit my collection just in time for the Christmas season, and as such, I was initially disappointed in it–there’s not actually a lot of what we generally consider to be “Christmas Music” on it. But what there is, is amazing.

The Glory of Gabrieli

There has to be one instrumental CD on my top 5 list here, and this would be it. Gabrieli was a master of organ music, and this CD reflects that excellently. Actually, this CD helped me get through my last set of finals–while Bach is generally my music of choice to make it through tests, I put some Gabrieli on this last round and found it excellent.

And so on…

Not all of my medieval CDs could hit the top 5, I’m afraid, so here are some others that I love.

Those of you that know me know that I love music. It would perhaps be accurate to say that I “live on” music–and though I have little time these days to do the musical things I used to do, it is still a huge part of my life.

It should come as no surprise, then, that there is very little I like better about visiting our orphans than hearing them sing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished that I could get American kids to sing the way they do–I’d be a famous kid’s choir conductor, if there is such a thing. They sing with enthusiasm, with verve, and with a childlike passion.

I’ve already written about a couple of songs they sang on our last trip (”God Will Make a Way” and Psalm 137), but now I want to share a song with you. To see a full translation and introduction, see my Ambassadors post, but to just listen to their music, click here.

I think there is a reason that there are so many Easter hymns, praise songs, and songs that talk about the resurrection. There is too much truth that we try to assimilate this holiday, too much glory for words alone. Adding music gives us just that much more chance to ascribe full worth to the Godhead for the wonder of the resurrection.

Perhaps that’s the reason that, even in Heaven, we will sing the truth back to the throne. The Lamb that gave us eternal hope will receive our eternal praise, as we cast the crowns made possible by His death and resurrection back at His feet, crying,

Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.

I get goosebumps from Handel’s version; can you imagine the heavenly song of the redeemed millions?