New York Times Blogger Stanley Fish today writes about a new translation of Milton’s “Paradise Lost” into English prose.  What? Fish quotes the translator Dennis Danielson, a distinguished Miltonist, who is well aware that it might seem odd to translate a poem into the language in which it is already written. Fish writes

The value of his edition, he says, is that it “invites more readers than ever before to enjoy the magnificent story — to experience the grandeur, heroism, pathos, beauty and grace of Milton’s inimitable work.”

I have not yet seen the new translation, but it strikes me as similar to an exercise done by the editors of the United Church of Christ’s The New Century Hymnal, created in the mid-’90s, in which archaic language was updated (no more “thou”, “thee”); no sexist language (God is only referred to in gender-neutral terms; The Christ has no gender, although Jesus the human being can be referred to as male); no “imperialist” language (the word “Lord” is suspect, although it slips in from time to time); no racist language (the words to black spirituals are revised to standard English: “I ain’t got long to stay here” becomes “I don’t have long to stay here.”); Heaven is no longer above (since God surrounds us).  It is politically correct–and admirable in composing new hymn texts–but practically quite silly and irritating to many church-goers, especially when many familiar hymns have been tinkered with.  I have always found it condescending that the editors felt that church-goers are unable to distinguish between current language and archaic language.  How does updating master poets (Christina Rosetti; John Greenleaf Whittier) improve them?

The new Milton translation may be most effective as a teaching “crib” for undergraduates who might have to work harder to understand Milton’s syntax.

Just for your post-Thanksgiving shopping, here is Barbie of the Undead. Click on the image to see more fine images of this hotseller.

Yesterday I attended the Metropolitan Opera HD video broadcast of Berlioz’s “La Damnation de Faust” in a new production by Robert Lepage, starring Marcello Giordani (Faust), Susan Graham (Marguerite) and John Relyea (Mephistopheles).  Met Music Director James Levine conducted.  Musically it was a triumph; visually it was trendy, with all the visual bells and whistles, with some striking effects, but lacking real dramatic impact.

The work itself is dramatically problematic, without continuity, slipping back and forth in time, leaving out significant events.  It is most often performed as a kind of “dramatic oratorio.”  The visuals are left to the imagination.

In this production Robert Lepage (among his other works is the staging of Cirque du Soleil’s show “Ka” in Las Vegas) has turned the Met’s huge stage into a multi-level structure with a series of rather narrow vertical playing areas. The playing area accepts front and rear video projections, which are controlled in part by infrared sensors that sense movement and body heat on the stage areas.  For examples, when dancers are performing in front of projections of drapes, their movement creates the appearance of movement in the drapes.  At various times performers walk perpendicularly up the scaffolded playing area, then “fall down” again.  The images are arresting, but not necessarily related to the music.  The costumes were beautiful, despite Mephistopheles being got up in a costume with a headpiece that looked like a brown cockroach, and the the unfortunate decision to have the male chorus perform shirtless in the final scene.  Too many video closeups.

The three prinicpals were excellent.  Marcello Giordani has more of an Italianate sound than French, but he handled the music very well.  John Relyea was sinuous as the devil.  Susan Graham was magnificent in the relatively short role of Marguerite.  (She doesn’t appear until the second act, which enabled Ms. Graham to act as host for the opening fo the video broadcast.  Thomas Hampson did the honors for the intermission.) The brilliant Met chorus made major contributions throughout, as did the world-class Met orchestra.  Levine obviously has a strong personal affinity for the piece and it showed through in this performance.

My 2008 edition of A Christmas Cracker, being a commonplace selection, by John Julius Norwich, arrived in the mail today from amazon.co.uk. These little twenty-four page center-stapled pamphlets, this year in a bright red printed cover with little green Christmas trees, which Norwich has been publishing privately for decades, contain an oddball collection of short stories, news items, jokes, historical notes, etc., none of which has anything to do with Christmas. As far as I can tell he started publishing them as Christmas greetings/gifts to friends, but over the years these limited editions have taken on cult and collectable status and are now sold from a limited number of booksellers, including, somewhat surprisingly, Amazon. Foyle’s in London, and Heffer’s in Cambridge both sell each year’s edition.

It turns out that the term “commonplace” has a meaning. (I’m sure the erudite of you out there are saying, “Well, duh, yes of course there is.”)  Wikipedia has an extensive article.  Essentially, a commonplace was a notebook in which a student wrote down, generally, miscellaneous information from his studies.  The act of doing this recording of information was called “commonplacing” and students were taught how to do it.  Mark Twain was a notable commonplacer, and many of his notes found their way into his books. Presumably, many of those people with their Moleskine notebooks that we see scribbling away at Starbucks are commonplacing.  Wikipedia characterizes blogs as a modern form of commonplace.  (My definitely is, since I write about all sorts of miscellaneous things here.)

For all you choir directors out there.

My weekend musical bonanza continued this afternoon with an outstanding performance of Olivier Messiaen’s “Livre du Saint Sacrement” performed at the Church of the Covenant in Cleveland by Jonathan William Moyer, the church’s new organist and music director.  The performance was give in honor of the hundredth anniversary of Messiaen’s birth.  Moyer is a doctoral candidate at the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore and will be performing the work there next week, so this was the out-of-town try-out on the Covenant’s large Aeolian-Skinner organ.  The organ sounded better than usual today; I noticed a large pile of red upholstered pew cushions in the corner–if they were banished permanently, that’s a good thing for the usually dry acoustics in the church.  Messiaen’s organ music sounds best in a reverberant room.

“Livre du Saint Sacrement” is a daunting work in eighteen movements lasting a bit over two hours.  The composer indicates an optional intermission following the eleventh movement, which Moyer observed.  His performance was clear, cleanly played (if perhaps a bit conservative in tempos at times.)  The organ worked surprising well with Messiaen’s registrational instructions.  The notated birdsongs sang out not just from the chancel organ in the front, but sometimes from the antiphonal organ in the back of the church.

There was an unfortunately small audience—I’m guessing mostly Church of the Covenant members.  Several whom I spoke to indicated that the organist had “coached” them in what to expect, with a lecture and film about Messiaen, and very complete program notes.  (I had the benefit of my own copy of the score to follow, but the notes were also very helpful.)

The Church of the Covenant has made a good choice in their new organist, who must have had a bit of trepidation in following the very popular and brilliantly talented Todd Wilson who was in the position for most of the past twenty years.  But Jonathan Moyer acquitted himself admirably today.

I turned in my tickets for the Cleveland Orchestra concert on Friday night (Herbert Blomstedt conducting the Beethoven “Eroica” Symphony) in order to hear the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir and the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Tonu Kaljuste, at the Cathedral of St. John in downtown Cleveland.  I made the right choice.

I have several recordings of the Estonian choir, notably music by fellow Estonian Veljo Tormis, but also a landmark recording of the Rachmaninov “All Night Vespers,” so I knew that they were good, but their performance was nothing short of phenomenal, with laser-like precision in sound and intonation.  The Estonians make John Rutter’s Cambridge Singers and other famous choruses sound as if they are singing quarter-tone music.  What was downright eerie was that the Estonians did not seem to be working very hard to do what they were doing.  The discipline required cannot be underestimated.

The Estonian group has recorded  much of the choral music by Arvo Pärt (probably the Estonian composer best known in the West), and the first half of this program was devoted to Pärt’s music.  Only one of the works, “Da pacem Domine,” has been recorded.  The find of this program was Pärt’s 2004-2005 work “L’Abbe Agathon,” a musical parable about an abbot who encounters a leper and demonstrates Christian charity.  Sung in French, it was very moving. A soprano soloist sang the role of the leper, and a baritone soloist was the abbot.  The choir were corporate narrators (in much the same way that the chorus is the narrator in Pärt’s “St. John Passion.”)

The second half opened with an instrumental work by Erkki-Sven Tüür, “Action, Passion, Illusion,” which was also striking, especially the central “Passion” movement, which moved from low string polyphony upward through the string orchestra, ending in an unsettling high string cluster.

The remainder of the program was devoted to Antonio Vivaldi’s setting of Psalm 112, “Beatus vir” for strings, continuo, soloists and choir.  The virtuoso soloists were all drawn from the choir.

As I’ve written before here, I think that there are in general too many standing ovations in Cleveland, but this is one concert that I can honestly and vigorously say deserved the ovation the performers received.  The audience was rewarded with an encore, a meltingly beautiful arrangement of an Estonian Christmas carol, mostly for women’s voices with strings, but in the end with the men humming along on the tune.

This concert has to be considered one of the top concerts of this season.  Cathedral music director Greg Heislman is to be congratulated and thanked for bringing the Estonians.  (The concert was also co-sponsored by the Cleveland Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.)

On Sunday, November 2, 2008, I celebrated twenty-five years as Director of Music at Euclid Avenue Congregational Church of the United Church of Christ, in Cleveland, Ohio.  I began there (as Interim Director) on November 1, 1983.  During that time I have survived three permanent ministers, at least that many interim ministers, associate pastors, directors of Christian Education, secretaries, and custodians.  What better way to celebrate than to give a recital?  You can download the program. (PDF).  (Audio samples forthcoming)

The church publicity committee did a good job of getting the word out, and there were between 75 and 100 people present, including  a fair number that I didn’t recognize, and some friends whom I would not have expected to see.

I am never fully satisfied with my own playing, but it went reasonably well.  There are always things to improve.  George turned pages for me and pulled stops in several of the pieces, especially the Messiaen “Apparition”. It is (I think) more nerve-wracking to turn pages and pull stops than it is to perform.  But he was very confident and things came off without a hitch.

After the concert there was a lovely reception in the church parlor, with spoken tributes by several people.  I am pleased to say that the church is taking up an “anniversary collection” on my behalf that will be used for scholarships for persons wishing to study organ.  It is a wonderful idea–much better than a gift to me; I have more than enough of my own.  The church also commissioned a quite amusing iron sculpture that is a caricature of me playing the organ and conducting at the same time.  Everyone should have a statue!  I may not have an Oscar, but I still have a statue.

On Wednesday, November 5, the day after Barack Obama was decisively elected the first African-American President of the United States, I went to my church to play for our weekly noon service of prayer and healing.  (Prayers, scripture, annointing with oil and laying on of hands are offered.)  My part of the service is to play a short organ prelude, accompany one hymn and play a postlude at the end of the service.  For this week’s postlude I played “Lift Every Voice and Sing”, the so-called “Black National Anthem” with words by James Weldon Johnson.

Lift every voice and sing, till earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet,
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered;
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.

It seemed stunningly appropriate for this day, so full of promise.  The members of the congregation present also expressed that sentiment to me after the service.  Even though the words were not sung, I’m sure that they were in the minds of virtually everyone present.