As the times grow ever more, uh, ‘challenging’, take time to reflect. Like medicine for the soul, reading and reflecting upon the Psalms can have a calming effect. It can be cathartic. I’m sure it was for David as he was writing at least some of his.
The Psalm for today is 58, one of David’s.1 Bear in mind “Sons of Men” here refers to kings, rulers, etc.
58:1 So you truly speak righteousness?
You judge properly, ‘Sons of Men’?
2 For even in your heart you practice lawlessness on the earth;
with your hands you weave unrighteousness.
3 Estranged are sinners from the womb,
astray from birth, they utter falsehoods,
4 their venom as that of a snake,
like a deaf cobra also plugging up its ears,
5 which hears not the sound of the charmer
or enticements invoked with skill.
6 God shall crush their teeth in their mouth;
The teeth of the ‘lions’, the Lord shall shatter.
7 They shall dissipate as water passing through.
He shall stretch His bow until they grow faint.
8 Like wax melted, they shall be taken away:
Fire rains upon them, and they cannot see the sun.
9 Before you fathom your thorns, the thorny bush as living,
as in wrath, it shall swallow you up.
10 The righteous shall rejoice upon seeing vengeance on the ungodly.
He shall wash his hands in the bloodshed of the sinful.
11 Then a man shall say, “Truly there is fruit for the righteous!
Truly there is a God judging them on the earth!”
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1 Translated from the Septuagint/LXX 57. The main differences from the Masoretic Text (MT) are in verses 7b–9.
This post is an attempt at reflecting the myriad emotions presently troubling me about a variety of things. Thus, it will likely come across just as disjointed as my mix of inner turmoil and yet vague sense of optimism. The process of writing this will probably prove to be cathartic.
I am continually dismayed by individuals making various assertions with misplaced confidence. And the blows coming from within and without in attempts (successful, sadly) at a divide and conquer strategy at unprecedented scale is completely missed by many of the distracted masses. Too many are enslaved by their own minds, imprisoned by the limited information they intake. They place outsized trust in their self-constricted list of myopic sources. Others completely tune out via the various electronic distractions available to them, oblivious to it all.
I am continually amazed at the amount of smart and seemingly intelligent individuals waylaid by apparent cognitive dissonance. In an enlightening vlog published 9 months ago, I found this exemplifying and yet clarifying comment (by Paul Hopper):
Many years ago, on a trip to Bucharest [the capital city of Romania], my wife and I visited her family’s cemetery, which happens to also be where Nicolae & Elena Ceausescu are buried. I was stunned to see a group of older Romanians holding a vigil, lighting candles and still mourning at the grave of this notorious, murderous tyrant. When I asked my wife—who was at the revolution in ’89—why anyone would feel sorry for this dead despot, she said that the older generation were so conditioned to be controlled by the state that they didn’t know how to live any other way. Just like the metaphor of the totalitarian womb in this video, it’s the illusion of security and safety. Sadly, she now sees the U.S. falling into the same communist mindset that she experienced growing up in Eastern Europe.
I am reminded of a work by Ukrainian neoclassical composer Valentin Silvestrov. Devastated by the death of his wife, companion, and supporter of 30 years, he wrote “Requiem for Larissa” in memoriam.
Time in Valentin Silvestrov’s music is a black lake. The water barely moves; the past refuses to slide away; and the slow, irregular stirrings of an oar remain in place. Nothing is lost here. A melody, which will rarely extend through more than five or six notes, will have each of those notes sounding on, sustained by other voices or instruments, creating a lasting aura.1
At times I feel as though I’m situated on this black lake—time seemingly standing still yet moving ever so slowly, almost imperceptibly—its eerie blackness enveloping me. It seems both distressing and calming simultaneously.
Within Silvestrov’s “Requiem” is an excerpt from Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko’s “The Dream”. From the Wikipedia entry on Taras Shevchenko:
Dogged by terrible misfortune in love and life, the poet died seven days before the 1861 emancipation of serfs was announced. His works and life are revered by Ukrainians throughout the world and his impact on Ukrainian literature is immense.
Below is the English-rendered text of the excerpted poem:
Farewell, O world! Farewell, O earth! Thou dismal, dreary land! I’ll hide my torments, fierce and keen, Within a cloud-bank bland
Then to thyself, my own Ukraine, A widow sad and weak, shall come flying from the clouds And with thee I shall speak;
From our communion, soft and low My heart shall gain some cheer; At midnight shall my soul come down In dewdrops cool and clear2
This post is purposefully a bit vague and yet non-purposefully a bit scattered, reflective of my emotions and the overarching opacity permeating Western society as a whole. But to be absolutely clear, I’m not suggesting any sort of reactive call to action. My hope is that individuals become aware of the myriad machinations being perpetuated upon the populace and refuse to engage in them. Divided, we fall.
We must have compassion for those caught up. Leave the door open for open discussion. Leave the door open to preach the Gospel message. The time is short.
I will end on a less somber note. Listen to master oudist Anouar Brahem (and his assembled band) describe “The Astounding Eyes of Rita” in a live recording in Bucharest, Romania:
2 Taras Shevchenko, excerpted from “The Dream”, in The Poetical Works of Taras Shevchenko, translated from the Ukrainian by C. H. Andrusyshen and Watson Kirkconnell (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1964), as cited from the liner notes of Silvestrov Requiem, p 23.
Different people grieve differently. Some busy themselves with busyness. More productively, some write. Some write music. Some listen to music that some have written as catharsis for their pain.
And some enjoy listening to such heart-rending music—even when not necessarily in distress. That would describe me. When grieving, I concurrently feel the composer’s agony. When I’m not, it’s as if I’m empathically sharing in their burdens (Galatians 6:2).
One of my favorite ECM New Series releases, Dolorosa features—as the title suggests—themes of death, sorrow, and lamentation. It includes one work each by Dmitri Shostakovich, Pēteris Vasks, and Alfred Schnittke—all from the former Soviet Union. The title of the release appears to be truncated from Vasks’ own “Musica Dolorosa”, with perhaps a nod to the Via Dolorosa (Latin for “sorrowful way”), Jesus’ route to crucifixion. I make these speculations since it is convention to use doloroso (“o” instead of “a” at the end) in musical direction.
Dolorosa – Shostakovich / Vasks / Schnittke
Dennis Russell Davies, cond.; Stuttgart Chamber Orch.
These three works for string orchestra are appropriately somber, though at times dramatic, adequately expressing the subjects’ range of emotions.
The disc begins with Rudolf Barshai’s (1967) adaptation of Shostakovich’s Eighth String Quartet. The composer himself approved of Barshai’s arrangement, agreeing to rename it Chamber Orchestra op. 110bis. I much prefer the orchestral version to the quartet, as it adds weightiness to the original, better conveying its inherent bleakness. Shostakovich dedicated the composition “[t]o the memory of the victims of fascism and war”. At the time the original quartet was written (summer 1960), the composer had succumbed to persistent pressures to join the communist party, causing great inner turmoil, according to musicologist Isaak Glikman, as per the accompanying liner notes. Apparently the composer’s dedication included himself as a victim.
At just under 25 minutes, this rendition is one of the longest. DRD conducts the second movement, Allegro molto, slower than all other versions I’ve heard (3:38 long), which I find more appropriate, given the inscription and the overall tenor of this arrangement.
The impetus for Vasks’ “Musica dolorosa” was the death of the composer’s sister Marta. Vasks’ grief evidences itself in the climactic section beginning at around 5:50 of the single movement piece. The pain conveyed becomes almost unbearable until about 8:00 when the discordance begins to subside, seguing into a dark melancholy. This subsequently gives rise to what seems to be a reluctant acceptance of this tragedy. As much as I like the Shostakovich, this is my favorite piece on the disc.
Closing the set is Yuri Bashmet’s orchestral arrangement of Schnittke’s String Trio (1985), rebranded Trio Sonata (1987). This work is the least somber of the three, for the Alban Berg Foundation commissioned the original string trio for the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Berg’s birth. However, within a few weeks of the string trio’s premiere, the composer would suffer his first of many strokes, thus curtailing his activity for the remainder of his days. Of the piece, Gerard McBurney opines in the liner notes: “It is music which strongly suggests an elegiac farewell to the past, as though the composer knew he were facing impending and radical change…” Schnittke would die one year after this disc was released.
Listening to this recording can be cathartic, as it has been for me many times. I suppose, though, that the listener’s experience would pale in comparison to the emotions felt by the composers at the time of writing—or shortly thereafter in the case of Schnittke’s revision by Bashmet.
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