The entire month of December is filled with music... sacred chorales... cheesy sentimental songs... ancient madrigals... old-fashioned carols... incessant muzak... all these and more. Music sets the tone for our various holiday celebrations, whether that festival is religious, secular, cultural or somewhere in between. I've spent most of the past several weeks listening to Sting's new recording, If On A Winter's Night..., which has been a decidedly different and thought-provoking change of pace from the months preparing for the Christmas liturgies at my parish where I sing as a cantor and choir member.
This recording isn't strictly a Christmas CD. In fact, I would venture to say the use of the word Christmas in various songs is purely incidental. Yet, there is a sense of spirituality that is unmistakable, a hushed, sometimes haunting tone that transports the listener to a crisp, white plane of solitude where each step crunches underfoot as we make our way toward that comforting warmth of hearth and home.
I've always been a huge fan of Sting's and eagerly enjoy his forays into unexpected musical disciplines. On this particular recording there are traces of celtic, eastern, jazz, bluegrass and baroque, just to name a few. By the inexperienced or the amateur, a mixture of these styles might sound forced or precious; but in the hands of a masterful, intelligent musician as Sting -- as well as the group he gathered around him, out of their initial improvising and experimenting has come a sound that is both evocative and natural. I hestitate to call it fusion. This is a sound all its own -- where the celtic harp and the jazzy trumpet play in perfect harmony with one another, and the Appalachian fiddle and classical cello are truly kindred cousins.
The fact that this recording is largely acoustic also adds a dimension to the atmosphere of the music. Naturally in this day and age there is production on each of the songs, and some of that has been done in recording studios all around the globe, but the core essence of this music is those several artists Sting invited to his Italian villa last February to make music and explore his lyrical winterscape.
This month PBS also aired a concert from Durham Cathedral in the north eastern province of York in England where Sting and his friends performed most of this album live. I was more than a little envious of those people in the audience. Sting rarely needs to tour anymore, so a one-time concert like this is truly a gift. In a way it's a shame, since the opportunity to experience thoughtful, professional musicians in a live space without a lot of non-musical equipment is becoming less and less the norm. Digital instruments and spectacular light displays certainly have their place, and I've attended my share of over-the-top exciting concerts; but this is music as it's been made over all the centuries, despite the pretty atmospheric lighting and occasional amps and microphones.
I had a similar experience at a Loreena McKennitt concert several years ago. Yes, the show was a production with plenty of intimate staging and professional soundboard mixing off stage; however, what set this concert apart (as I believe the Durham Catherdral concert also shares) is that those gathered on stage were not just making music... they were making music together. There is a huge difference, believe me. Any two people can get on stage and make a pleasing, harmonious sound at the same time, but when they work together, allowing the ebb and flow of sound is when it's elevated to something more than just pretty noise.
And anyone that is in an audience and has the opportunity to experience that knows what I'm talking about and can feel that unity -- because in playing with one another the artists really allow us to play with them too. There is something primal in music, and Sting's If On A Winter's Night... touches something of that in us, I think.
This recording isn't strictly a Christmas CD. In fact, I would venture to say the use of the word Christmas in various songs is purely incidental. Yet, there is a sense of spirituality that is unmistakable, a hushed, sometimes haunting tone that transports the listener to a crisp, white plane of solitude where each step crunches underfoot as we make our way toward that comforting warmth of hearth and home.
I've always been a huge fan of Sting's and eagerly enjoy his forays into unexpected musical disciplines. On this particular recording there are traces of celtic, eastern, jazz, bluegrass and baroque, just to name a few. By the inexperienced or the amateur, a mixture of these styles might sound forced or precious; but in the hands of a masterful, intelligent musician as Sting -- as well as the group he gathered around him, out of their initial improvising and experimenting has come a sound that is both evocative and natural. I hestitate to call it fusion. This is a sound all its own -- where the celtic harp and the jazzy trumpet play in perfect harmony with one another, and the Appalachian fiddle and classical cello are truly kindred cousins.
The fact that this recording is largely acoustic also adds a dimension to the atmosphere of the music. Naturally in this day and age there is production on each of the songs, and some of that has been done in recording studios all around the globe, but the core essence of this music is those several artists Sting invited to his Italian villa last February to make music and explore his lyrical winterscape.
This month PBS also aired a concert from Durham Cathedral in the north eastern province of York in England where Sting and his friends performed most of this album live. I was more than a little envious of those people in the audience. Sting rarely needs to tour anymore, so a one-time concert like this is truly a gift. In a way it's a shame, since the opportunity to experience thoughtful, professional musicians in a live space without a lot of non-musical equipment is becoming less and less the norm. Digital instruments and spectacular light displays certainly have their place, and I've attended my share of over-the-top exciting concerts; but this is music as it's been made over all the centuries, despite the pretty atmospheric lighting and occasional amps and microphones.
I had a similar experience at a Loreena McKennitt concert several years ago. Yes, the show was a production with plenty of intimate staging and professional soundboard mixing off stage; however, what set this concert apart (as I believe the Durham Catherdral concert also shares) is that those gathered on stage were not just making music... they were making music together. There is a huge difference, believe me. Any two people can get on stage and make a pleasing, harmonious sound at the same time, but when they work together, allowing the ebb and flow of sound is when it's elevated to something more than just pretty noise.
And anyone that is in an audience and has the opportunity to experience that knows what I'm talking about and can feel that unity -- because in playing with one another the artists really allow us to play with them too. There is something primal in music, and Sting's If On A Winter's Night... touches something of that in us, I think.
