MOON SONGS
I am not one for New Year’s resolutions, but 2021 seems to be the year of setting creative challenges for myself. In addition to this 30 day challenge to blog every day, I decided that I would try to make a video of a song for each full moon this year, beginning with today’s full moon, which I recently learned is called the “snow moon”. Each song will relate to the moon in one way or another - sometimes very obviously, and perhaps sometimes less so.
For this evening’s highlight of the lunar cycle, I thought I would record Franz Schubert’s song Nachtstück (Nocturne). While the song is not about the moon, she does make a brief appearance as the poet sets the scene of the song, which is a hauntingly beautiful accounting of an old man who takes his harp and walks into the woods to seek his final, eternal rest.
This video was a complete experiment for me, as I am learning to use the new tools that I have managed to acquire during the pandemic (new camera, new mics), as well as the new skills I am attempting to pick up (video editing, sound recording). Part of the reason I’ve chosen to commit to this series of moon songs is because it creates a schedule with deadlines and accountability for my creativity. I find that without those things, it’s too easy to let ideas slip by the wayside.
A gigantic thank you to Myra Huang for helping me with this little experiment so beautifully. Also, thanks to my neighbors for letting us wander around in the backyard with shining ring lights at odd hours.
Hope you enjoy.
TEXT:
Nachtstück
Johann Mayrhofer
Wenn über Berge sich der Nebel breitet
Und Luna mit Gewölken kämpft,
So nimmt der Alte seine Harfe, und schreitet
Und singt waldeinwärts und gedämpft:
„Du heilge Nacht:
Bald ist’s vollbracht,
Bald schlaf ich ihn, den langen Schlummer,
Der mich erlöst von allem Kummer.“
Die grünen Bäume rauschen dann:
„Schlaf süss, du guter, alter Mann“;
Die Gräser lispeln wankend fort:
„Wir decken seinen Ruheort“;
Und mancher liebe Vogel ruft:
„O lass ihn ruhn in Rasengruft!“
Der Alte horcht, der Alte schweigt,
Der Tod hat sich zu ihm geneigt.
TRANSLATION
Nocturne
English Translation © Richard Wigmore
When the mists spread over the mountains,
and the moon battles with the clouds,
the old man takes his harp, and walks
towards the wood, quietly singing:
‘Holy night,
soon it will be done.
Soon I shall sleep the long sleep
which will free me from all grief.’
Then the green trees rustle:
‘Sleep sweetly, good old man’;
and the swaying grasses whisper:
‘We shall cover his resting place.’
And many a sweet bird calls:
‘Let him rest in his grassy grave!’
The old man listens, the old man is silent.
Death has inclined towards him.