When one says the words "Christmas music", a few reactions can ensue. Some people roll their eyes and say that if they hear Mariah Carey once more, they'll cancel Christmas. Other people get giddy and start singing carols. I, for one, am in between those two various extremes. I generally enjoy the music of Christmas. For me, as a Christian, Christmas is a huge joyful celebration because God has loved us so much that He would send His son to deliver us from sin and bondage. Therefore, I'd like to share some of the music that speaks to my heart at this time of the year. Johann Sebastian Bach's amazing Christmas Oratorio was written for performance during the Christmas season in 1734. From the beginning chorus, we hear brass instruments and an exuberant choir sing out: "Jauchzet, frohlocket, auf, preiset die Tage", which means "Make a Joyful Noise to Praise the Days!" The way in which Bach captures the joy of the birth of Jesus is phenomenal. The strings have quick, exciting passages and the brass instruments punctuate this opening section signalling royalty and an important event.
Another gem from the Baroque that is often heard during Advent and Christmas is from G.F. Handel's famous oratorio, The Messiah. The first section of this masterwork revolves around Old Testament prophecies that are seen by Christians as pointing to the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. Thus, this section is known as the Advent section. My absolute favourite chorus is "For Unto Us a Child is Born", the text of which is from Isaiah 9:6.
"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
One of my favourite classical Christmas compositions is Archangello Corelli's Christmas Concerto, op. 6, no. 8 in g minor. There is nothing explicitly "Christmas" about this piece other than the composer indicated that it was written for the evening of Christmas, in 1690! I find that the fast movements, if one listens carefully, give a sense of winter approaching. The second movement, a truly gorgeous Adagio in E-flat Major, gives the sense that one is watching a quiet town that has finally fallen asleep on Christmas Eve and waits patiently for the joy in the morning.
Well, let's fast forward three centuries to the 2000s, for a modern, celtic rock take on a great old carol: Adeste Fideles or "O Come All Ye Faithful." At Christmas, Christians come together and sing songs in adoration. There is much to adore about this baby born in a manger - a humble King of Kings.
I wish all of you a very joyful and Merry Christmas. We have so much to rejoice over at this time of year as God's son laid down His crown and came to be our Emmanuel, God with us. May you all have health and blessings in the New Year!
A week ago, I attended a wonderful concert of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. It was a fairly last minute decision, which in itself is a rarity these days. The dark times of report cards are upon me and that means planning out my time awfully carefully. Nonetheless, the program was all Mozart and I could not resist. Plus, at $15 per ticket, the price was right. I ended up trudging through the rain with my dear friend Christina to attend this event.
It has been said of Mozart that his music is God speaking to us. As a Bible-believing Christian, I know that God has spoken to us through His Word but I do not discount that Mozart's music has the power to invoke thoughts of God.
The first piece was the surreal, Ave Verum Corpus, K. 618. This is the last religious work that Mozart composed before dying at age 35. Jesus says in John 14:27 : "Peace I leave with you; mypeace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." The gentle and prayerful mood that Mozart creates in this short but stunningly beautiful work reminded me of the peace that we receive from believing in the promises that Jesus fulfills by dying on the cross - the promise of eternal life in the high courts of Heaven.
After the intermission, the orchestra and choir performed Mozart's Mass in c minor, K. 427. From the very introductory notes of music in the Kyrie, my heart was deeply moved. Kyrie is the first part of the traditional Latin Mass and means "Lord have mercy." That's when I realized, again, that it is indeed Christ's property to have mercy upon those who are faithful and turn to Him in repentance. As Mozart's music filled my ears, my soul began to understand once again that God is rich in mercy because of the great love with which He loved us (Eph. 2:4). As the choir made supplications for mercy, it became clear to me that Christ's response is to indeed have mercy and "if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." (1 John 1:9).
Recently, I have been struggling with guilt and just feeling generally weighed down by sin. Whether or not Mozart believed in God or Jesus is not for me to know or to even speculate. I simply know that the music that Mozart composed communicated to me a sense of truth - the most comforting truth. I left the Orpheum Theatre very convicted that indeed my transgressions have been wiped out by God by His one and sufficient sacrifice - Jesus Christ.
In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace,which He lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insightmaking known to us the mystery of His will, according to His purpose, which He set forth in Christas a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth. - Ephesians 1:7-10
What now? I am graduating with a Masters in Literacy Education from UBC in a week? Unreal! The day is finally here. Over the last two years (beginning in September 2010), my life has been dedicated to my studies and trying to maintain some semblance of a running classroom. Often, when my graduate studies were going well, my teaching seem less organized. Often, when teaching seemed to be going well, my grades in my Masters seemed to suffer oh so slightly. (Alternately, I just did not sleep.) One of the biggest sacrifices, however, was that the amount of music in my life decreased hugely and my soul felt that. I was no longer able to take violin lessons because, well, there just wasn't the time to properly dedicate to practising. I wasn't able to attend as many concerts due to ticket prices and time constraints. Between tuition rates and twenty-five page papers, live music had to move down on the priority list. After having my thesis approved on August 26th, I've been able to attend more recitals and concerts and it is simply wonderful! Nonetheless, graduating in a week has rendered me quite reflective. Be forewarned, this list is a combination of the utterly ridiculous and the very serious. I present to you my Top 10 Things I did in Grad School. 1) I read a lot of stuff. (No like actually, I really did.)
2) I spoke a lot of French and learned many new French words, like "jaser" - which means to chat! 3) I learned how to teach a child to read - properly.
4) I got to live and study in Montreal - twice. These were, without a doubt, the two most incredible summers of my life. I wouldn't trade them for an entire Henle edition of all Schubert's works. 5) I learned about ethics in research, teaching, and writing and the value of intellectual property. 6) I complained a lot. 7) I didn't sleep. (Needed Wotan to cast a spell of Magic Fire I guess!)
8) I typed a lot of words on the computer screen. I think I used that keyboard thing that has letters? 9) I kind of went to the library...twice?
10) I was privileged to work with the most amazing group of educators in BC and saw what true, selfless collaboration looks like in a professional setting.
Hats off in a week to finishing and to the pay raise that means more classical music albums! Hurrah!
There comes a point in the school year where the class melds together and cohesion happens. Today was that glorious point!
Generally, the school year has started very well. I have an extremely full class of 29 students which makes addressing their individual needs quite challenging. Nonetheless, it has been my delight to see them come together as a group, care for each other, learn to be more independent, and to appreciate classical music.
I saw some astonishing things occurring in my classroom today that made me pause and ask myself: "Wait, how did that happen? How can a climate of learning be created for that to happen again?"
Our day started beautifully with silent reading (en français bien sûr!) The musical selection during silent reading was Beethoven's exquisite Sonata no. 3 in A Major for cello and piano. This is one of my absolute favourite pieces of chamber music because Beethoven has so much contrast in this one work. You'll never guess who plays this on YouTube! You've got it - Glenn Gould!
One of my students who was initially resistant to the idea of listening to classical music found this piece exhilarating and enjoyable. Can one blame him? The energy in this composition is remarkable. I firmly believe that the classical music is an excellent complement to their silent reading programme. This class has become increasingly disciplined with their silent reading practice and are starting to value literacy on their own accord.
After silent reading, the class worked in small groups on a French vocabulary activity related to a novel we're currently studying. The students put themselves into partners or groups of three with ease and not a single person was left out. I am so fortunate to teach such a caring class where students seem to be highly aware of the needs of other people. Each partnership was engaged in the activity and I heard an increasing amount of French spoken amongst the students! This was truly encouraging.
After recess, I witnessed pure magic. The greatest challenge I have faced this year is providing each of my students with an appropriate yet challenging Math curriculum. I've struggled with this because each child comes to my class with a different set of numeracy skills. Moreover, the Grade 5 Math curriculum is a gigantic leap from Grade 4. To compound the challenge, I only have seven Grade 5 students so the other students in my class must be working independently for me to give the Grade 5s the attention necessary. Today, after two previous lessons working on double-digit multiplication, I let all of the Grade 5 students work together on the Math that was assigned. The rule was that the whole group had to wait until each student had finished the question before moving on. Also, the group had to agree upon an answer before proceeding to the next question. I sat beside them and observed. To my awe and amazement, not only were they graciously helping each other, but they were in fact SPEAKING FRENCH. You will just have to believe me when I tell you that they were not prompted by me to speak French. They just simply understood that French is the language of communication in our class.
I immediately praised this group for their use of French as it has been one area in which they needed to improve. Moreover, one of the students in Grade 5 chose to work on the Math alone, which is fine. The student also asked if they could listen to Mozart while doing their Math! (By this point, I'm beaming.) I supply the student with headphones at our listening station and off they go! Multiplication and Mozart: does it get better?
After a lovely lunch in the sunshine with my colleagues, the Grade 4 students returned to work on their French vocabulary assignment while the Grade 5 students still had Math that needed to be completed. Again, they were collaborating IN FRENCH without my prompting. The students invited people they did not normally associate with into their groups to work. I could see new social connections forming. The highlight of my day was when one of the students who has resisted speaking French said to me (direct translation): "I think we should work in groups more because that's going to make us speak more French."
Of course, this makes perfect sense to me. French is a language of communication - not simply the language of instruction in the class. Having lived in Montreal for the last two summers, I understand that French is a living language. People do business in French, eat in French, work in French, and having friendships in French. For these students to sense that French is a living language, they need to be interacting in French with each other even more than they already are.
Today at school was a blessing. I witnessed what my students are capable of. My class is a group of children who love to learn together and wish to help each other on their educational journey. Oh, and they don't mind one bit if that journey is en français. Tomorrow the school bell will ring once again and I can not wait to see what extraordinary learning my students accomplish - just by the virtue of their own abilities.
At the beginning of the school year, I announced to my class of grade 4 and 5 students that we would be listening to a lot of classical music during the year. Eight of the students were in my class last year and simply smiled. One of them had grown to adore the music throughout the year.
One boy, whom I did not have as a student last year, looked at me and said: "No offense, but I won't like this music - ever." Over the last month, he has teased me a bit about the music I play - never crossing the line of being rude or disrespectful. He even likes to announce that he enjoys a piece to get my hopes up and then quickly retracts by saying "just kidding Madame!" We'll call this boy Robert. He becomes a key figure shortly!
Last year, we did some structured listening of classical music. I introduced the class to Peter and the Wolf and Carnival of the Animals. This year, however, with an older age group, I wanted to implement something even more structured. With Glenn Gould's 80th birthday being celebrated (and remembering the 30th anniversary of his far too early death in 1982), Bach has been on my mind and heart. Moreover, the Vancouver Recital Society opened their phenomenal 2012-2013 season with Andràs Schiff playing Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier, Book One at the Chan Centre for Performing Arts at UBC. This was one of the most memorable recitals I have ever attended. I was so incredibly moved by Schiff's playing that I knew immediately what I was going to do for a formal music listening program in my classroom.
I was going to play one piece from Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier each day for the students. I was going to play it in the morning at 9:30 - directly after silent reading.
Normally, I play classical music during silent reading. However, this would be a different experience. All of the students would gather on the carpet area and have to listen silently - as if in a concert experience. In order for this activity to be successful, I had to explain to the students what was expected of their bodies, minds, souls, and hearts while they listened to the recordings of Bach. The class was completely co-operative and I could feel the positive energy of the children enjoying the glorious music of the C Major Prelude and Fugue on day one.
Their faces were reflective during the Prelude. Some, as if by instinct, bowed their heads and seemed almost prayerful during the Prelude. Some whose heads had been bowed or eyes closed during the Prelude began to smile when the Fugue with its catchy dotted-rhythm subject began to play. Many of the students play piano or violin in my class so a few were able to explain what it meant for a piece to be in C Major. The next day, the students reminded me that it was "le temps d'écouter" (the time to listen) and that they wanted to hear the piano music! Imagine how thrilled I was that they were initiating the proposition of listening to the music.
As the Prelude in c minor, BWV 847 began to play, a young girl in my class caught my eyes and began smiling. She did not speak but there was something in her glance that indicated that she had heard this music before and that it had a special place in her young heart. Indeed, she politely waited until Gould had finished playing the fugue when she rose her hand to tell me that her older sister was learning this piece for her grade 9 RCM piano exam. As an educator, it is my distinct joy to see students connecting content from class with the life they experience outside of school. Knowing this girl and her sister's close relationship, I sensed that the music meant a lot to her.
The next day, I had to again be reminded that it was time for our daily Bach listening. Off to the carpet we went in search of C-Sharp Major. I showed them on a large piece of paper what the key signature of C-Sharp Major looks like on the grand staff. I explained the anomalies of E-sharp and B-sharp which led to a discussion of semitones. Nonetheless, I played Andràs Schiff's version of the Prelude and Fugue in C-Sharp Major (BWV 849) first. The joy that is contained in this piece is truly remarkable. Schiff does an excellent job on his new and highly-acclaimed ECM recording. Then, I had an idea. Why not compare his interpretation (which uses no pedal, by the way) with Glenn Gould's interpretation?
Gould's tempo is considerably faster than Schiff's and his articulation is crystal clear. You hear every blessed sixteenth note with absolute precision.The energy is frenetic and at any moment one feels as if Gould might spin completely out of control. Of course, it's Gould and he remains as steady as a rock. His gentle ending with rolled chords is simply ironic and delightful considering the ordered chaos that preceded it. From the very first note that Gould played in the Prelude, a grin of disbelief spread across my face and I could see that their was a sense of wonder in the students' eyes as well.
After Gould's wonderful and rhythmic interpretation of the Fugue had finished, the class burst into applause! Oh, if only Mr. Gould had been in the room with us. He is said to have loved children. I asked the class to consider the two very different versions of this piece that they had heard and to tell me which they preferred.
You will never guess whose hand shot up into the air. Yes, it was Robert. He said without hesitation. "It's the Canadian player. His playing is so exciting." The other children nodded and added their own accolades to Gould's playing. Some comments included: "The Canadian player's playing makes me feel like I'm running through a forest and being chased but I'll be all right in the end." Another boy stated that he preferred Gould simply by default because he was Canadian! (Honestly, who am I to argue with such patriotism?) A few students could not decide between the two great pianists. Finally, one girl mentioned that she preferred Schiff's playing because she could better keep track of the notes and it sounded less "busy." I really wonder what the class would have thought of this harpsichord version!
After what must have been ten minutes of focused discussion and debate, the class decided that both pianists were fine gentlemen indeed and that "Monsieur Bach" would have been happy to have heard them play. I was simply delighted that my class had participated in such a wonderful dialogue about classical music. Moreover, I was highly encouraged by the fact that one of the participants was a student who initially resisted the idea of listening to or enjoying classical music. Okay fine, I was more than encouraged. I was beaming.
Why did I choose the Well-Tempered Clavier as our listening? Firstly, why not? It's phenomenal music. Secondly, as I listened to Mr. Schiff perform all of Book 1, I realized what a journey it was to go through each key signature's emotional landscape. Bach's genius for creating harmonies and counterpoint is fully exposed in the writing of the fugues. Thirdly, and most importantly, I have many memories of these pieces. Not only have I learned some of these preludes and fugues for RCM piano exams, but my dear friends have performed them at their various recitals. I have the fondest recollections of hearing my friends play Bach at the University of Alberta for their performances that were a graduation requirement. During Mr. Schiff's concert, my heart ached for those people and for that time in my life that was so full of music. Now, instead of missing those places and those special people, I have a chance to create new memories of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier with my class of eager, co-operative, open-minded students. Instead of being sad that I do not have people who share music with me, I will share music with them.
I am thrilled that my class looks forward to our music sharing time. It is with eager anticipation that I look head to sharing the rest of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier. We are only on c-sharp minor in Book One which means that we have forty-four more preludes and fugues to hear! When I started this activity with the children, it was mainly to take a break from our hectic day and simply relax during what was an extremely busy week for both teacher and pupils. Nonetheless, this ten minute activity of listening to Bach's glorious music has become more than a relaxation technique. It has become a shared ritual which, like Bach's music, carries deep importance and meaning.
Monday evening, I had the privilege to attend a discussion with Nobel Peace Prize winning author and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel. He is best known for his book, Night, which I read during High School for an English course. I remember being profoundly moved by the book about a Jewish youth who recounts the horrors of being in a concentration camp during the Holocaust.
The event was held in the sold-out Orpheum Theatre of Vancouver (holding roughly 3000 people.) Normally, the Orpheum is where I attend Vancouver Symphony Orchestra concerts. Nonetheless, it is fitting that Dr. Wiesel presented here because music has played a huge role in his life. He did, after all, study the violin. The book Night even includes a passage about a violin being played during a death march.
"I was thinking of this when I heard the sound of a violin. The sound of a violin, in this dark shed, where the dead were heaped on the living. What madman could be playing the violin here, at the brink of his own grave? Or was it really an hallucination"
Clearly, music played such a fundamental part in the author's life that it was included in this book as well. The first topic that Dr. Wiesel discussed with the moderator was, in fact, music.
He recounted warm and humorous tales of his childhood learning the violin. Dr. Wiesel revealed that when he writes, he writes to quartets or quintets. Symphonies are far too distracting, he claimed. The intimate nature of the string quartet also lends itself perfectly to the art of writing.
Wiesel explained why he writes. His philosophy is the following: "Remember, for there is, there must be, hope in remembering." It took Wiesel 10 years after the Holocaust had ended to break his vow of silence. He realised, however, that what would he be without his memory? We are, after all, what we remember. Dr. Wiesel had horrific memories from his experience in the death camps but knew that he was ultimately responsible for what he did with those memories. What would he do with that memory that would improve the condition of the world in which we live? As he explained, "If I don't remember, I disappear. At the end, you'll forget yourself."
Dr. Wiesel discussed that his task as a writer was to honour the memory of Holocaust survivors, "to collect their tears, collect them into a story so that their tears become a testimony." The courage that it must take to write and craft an art from such darkness is difficult to imagine. Admittedly, Dr. Wiesel is a deeply religious man and ascribes a great deal of his strength to his Jewish faith.
I am almost certain that Dr. Wiesel enjoys the Beethoven string quartets so that is the music that I have chosen to accompany this entry. In fact, a family that had attended this event, took the same bus as me and we entered into a great discussion about what music might be playing as Dr. Wiesel writes. (Apparently, he wakes up at 5 am to write four hours of fiction each day.) I have selected three slow movements from the string quartets that I feel best represent what I learned this evening. The three selections are from each of Beethoven's three compositional periods: the early, middle, and late periods.
The first selection is from opus 18, no. 1. This is perhaps some of the most unrelentingly sad music that Beethoven composed. This second movement is a stark contrast from the bright, hopeful first movement that precedes it. It begins with a sorrowful melody but does seem to visit a happier, more nostalgic time in Beethoven's life and some lighter passages are played. Nonetheless, Beethoven does not let the listener linger for too long in those sweet remembrances. There is never any doubt as to the movement’s ultimate message. This piece conveys a deep pain that is simply part of the human condition. I still maintain that this is the most profound writing of his early compositional period.
The second selection is from opus 59, no. 2. This slow movement from the well-known e minor quartet is deeply reflective and has a sense of peace. The thick texture created by sustained notes adds emotional depth to this sublime movement of quartet literature. This is Beethoven at his most sensitive. The violin often gets melodic passages which allude to sweet memories of youth.
The third selection is the stunning third movement from opus 135. The String Quartet in F, opus 135, was the last complete work Beethoven composed, only a few months before his death in March 1827. It is the work of a composer who seems to have suddenly attained some new, simple truth after miles of struggle. The third movement resembles a whispered prayer in the dark. It is a movement that
overflows with forgiveness and love, but is also full of great sadness.
These movements from the Beethoven quartets are glimpses into the human condition at various points. Each of them strongly evokes a sense of memory and nostalgia. Both Beethoven and Wiesel had the courage to present an aspect of humanity that is dark but is in fact - very real. If one were to ignore the sadness, does that do honour to one's memories and experiences? Wiesel would likely argue not.
Music serves as a powerful connection to many of my most precious memories. The more I experience in this life, the more meaningful each piece of music becomes. I hear more in the notes that the composers have written. I am increasingly grateful for this new understanding that only comes with experience and age. Truthfully, I can not imagine the anguish that Dr. Wiesel must experience when listening to certain compositions, but I was completely inspired by how he has decided to turn the atrocities he witnessed into an art form that encourages the world to think critically about prejudice, racism, and hatred. Through his books, Wiesel is pushing our society toward critical thinking about how we will remember the past in order to improve the future. One can not help but be in awe of how he turned such an incredibly negative situation into a beautiful artistic expression through his novels. The struggles and sadnesses that Beethoven endured in his life find that same expression in the string quartet movements that I have selected. They are a testament that it is acceptable to grieve, remember, and to remember with intention so that the future is improved.
Life is not made of years. Life is made of moments. At the end its the sum of moments that makes our weight." - Elie Wiesel (September 10, 2012 - Vancouver, BC)
The two things closest to my heart as a classroom educator are literacy and music appreciation. Today, I had a chance to combine these two passions. I unashamedly snuck in some classical music into the students' day. Oh, and did I mention it was Pictures at an Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky? Russian virtuosity for the win! (I had to introduce them slowly before we get to Rachmaninoff...)
Children are in a process of learning how to cope with emotions, changes in life, and the healthy outlets that they can use to do so. Certainly music has served as a major way in which I have experienced my emotions in a healthy way and expressed what it means to be human on the deepest level.
When I thought of Pictures of Exhibition, I wasn't sure how to relate it to the children's lives. They didn't grow up in Tsarist Russia (pity!) Then, I remembered why Mussorgsky wrote this great work. He was devastated over the death of his artist friend, Victor Hartmann. As an hommage to his friend and a way to cope with his grief, Mussorgsky composed this masterful work for solo piano.
I chose a simple storybook that told the tale of how Mussorgsky was friends with Hartmann and was shook deeply by his sudden death. A critical component of the lesson was connecting what Mussorgsky was experiencing with the children's lives. Some identified with his grief and others simply stated that sometimes they too needed outlets to express their "sad feelings" but were not quite sure how.
One way that an educator or adult could get children to connect with the story behind Pictures at an Exhibition is to get them to identify fine arts activities which they enjoy. Many tiny hands shot up when I asked: "Who here likes to paint?" or "who likes to draw?" They understood that humans express themselves through visual art. Many even grasped that Mussorgsky could portray those visual expressions through sound. Indeed, many of the students were able to vividly imagine each scene being "painted" by Mussorgsky when I revealed the title of various movements. (Yes, I played the piano version for them as I read the story of how Mussorgsky came to write Pictures at an Exhibition.)
This virtuosic piece of piano music is so rich and colourful and narrative that it is a great starting point for children in learning about classical music. The reaction of the boys in my class was particularly remarkable since they were impressed by the true athleticism required by a pianist to play the more technically demanding passages of this work.
Mussorgsky's motivation for writing Pictures at an Exhibition is a story of how the arts are fundamental to human life. We use them to express the deepest scars that grief leaves on us. In a time when arts funding in schools is the first thing to be cut, it is now often the role of the classroom teacher to bring this aspect of a child's education alive.
My earnest hope is that the children grasped that they can turn to their preferred art form in times of joy, trial, and tribulation. I look forward to the rest of the year with this creative group and cultivating their interests - helping them to become increasingly comfortable with showing their individuality and allowing their feelings to be explored through the fine arts. After all, isn't that what it is to be human?
