Non-religious folk such as myself have a very different view of death than what you'll find in every song on this concert, and yet I was deeply moved by the beauty, sorrow, and hope held in these settings. And I wasn't alone: Throughout rehearsal, as we all took our first look at the music and tried to find our way through notes and rhythms and lyrics, distracted by our sight reading, many choristers still found themselves teary-eyed or outright crying, moved by the solemn message in this mournful music. I was particularly distressed by this passage from John Tavener's Funeral Ikos:
But whither now go the souls? How dwell they now together there?I don't know why it is, but in all the sad songs about death and mourning our loved ones, the joyous proclamations about going to Heaven in glory, I'm most affected by this passage. The idea that, when our friends and family leave this mortal coil, they might forget about us, is unspeakably sad and upsetting.
This mystery have I desired to learn, but none can impart aright.
Do they call to mind their own people, as we do them?
Or have they forgotten all those who mourn them and make the song:
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.
I'm not sure what that says about me.
Mark your calendar: Sing Me to Heaven concerts take place November 11 and November 16. On October 18, CCC's rehearsal will be open to the public. If you're in the Chicagoland area, please join us! I promise it will be more fun than this post.
8 comments:
I think sometimes I am more sad because I will forget details about friends and family that have passed away. Details about faces and voices are more distressing to me than the thought that the person who has died might forget about me. But then again I am a believer in an afterlife. I find comfort in that.
I'm with Heather. I think what we fear is that WE will forget our loved ones, and that is why it moves you so.
When I went to music camp at CU, we did a song titled "When I am Dead." This piece didn't take a position on the possibility of an after life:
When I am dead my dearest
Sing no sad songs for me.
Plant thou no roses
Nor shady cyprus tree.
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dew drops wet.
And if thou wilt remember.
And if thou wilt forget
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain,
I shall not hear the nightengale sing on
As if in pain.
That's about all I remember, but I found this song to be very moving. Good art affects us emotionally.
Right now I'm balling my eyes out every time I hear Pavaroti's voice. He was the first tenor I fell in love with.
Was it strange singing on the day that Pavarotti died?
I remembered the last verse:
And dreaming through the twilight
That does not rise nor set,
Happ'ly I will remember,
And happy I forget.
It sounds sad, but, set to music, it actually has a joyous feel.
(Boy, that song must have moved me. I sang in that chorus almost 40 years ago.)
All aspects of life and death distress me, sigh. I don't think I would be able to keep it together enough to sing.
Any chance of the concert being broadcast for us nonlocals to hear?
I am with WD. I am very sad about Pavarotti. Such a wonderful talent.
i am religious, and death still scares me. not my own death, but that of those i love. just last week i found myself wondering and fearing which of my parents will die first and how the one left behind will handle it (horrible, i know). the thought of life without either of them saddens me greatly. they are both 65 and very active, just now beginning their last academic years of employment before they embark on retirement next may. i hope i won't have to realize this fear for many, many years.
earlier this summer, a woman in our church, who had suffered from als, died. a friend of mine had been a care giver for her for six months before her passing. one day while they were together, karin typed into her speech machine, "[when you die,] i will run to you and call your name. i will meet you at the gate."
i do not fear death for myself, because i know that i will again see my loved ones who have gone before me. i have no fear of diminished memories or details. when i was a child i imagined that my grandfathers, both of whom died when i was quite young, were up in heaven playing chess together. why chess, i don't know--i'd never seen either of them play it while they were alive. despite this small and silly fact, i still believe with my whole being that my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my baby brother, and my friends are waiting to greet me at the gate when god decides it's time for me to go home.
I'll be back in town for the November 11th concert! Let me know the details (time and place) when you have them. I always love your concerts, and this one seems like it will be especially powerful. I've never been afraid of dying--my concern has either been dying young and having people (especially my parents) miss me--or feeling the loss of people I love. (I still deeply miss my grandma, who died five years ago.) Now that I'm with Tomkin, I find myself worrying about death--I don't want either of us to miss the other, even if we die 50 years from now. That's not something I'd ever really felt before. Another thought-provoking post, Kel!
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