Category Archives: Music

Music

‘My Grandfather’s Clock’

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It’s more than a week since my landmark birthday (which will remain terra incognito, because I’m not telling you the number), and this morning I finally hit on the song I wanted to post to mark the occasion. On the day itself, I was looking for something traditional, but relating to the passage of time and the brief span of our lives. I ended up posting a Sissel song, because I couldn’t find what I wanted. But now I know just the piece, and I’ve posted it above. It’s called “My Grandfather’s Clock.” You may have heard it, at least if you’re old. I’ve been familiar with it all my life, but had no idea it was as old as it is.

“My Grandfather’s Clock” was published I 1876, the year of the American Centennial, Custer’s Last Stand, and Wild Bill Hickok’s murder in Deadwood. Its composer was Henry Clay Work (1832-1884), a prominent songwriter of the day, especially remembered for his Civil War songs.

He was born in Middletown, Connecticut, into a strongly Abolitionist family, participants in the Underground Railroad. He became a printer, and worked at that trade in Chicago, while also writing songs for minstrel shows.

The Civil War brought him his greatest success. He wrote “Marching Through Georgia,” which you’ve probably heard if you have any interest in the war at all. He also wrote a song called “Kingdom Coming,” which is less well remembered as such, but you’ve probably heard the melody, a standard upbeat number often used in political campaigns to this day.

His star waned during Reconstruction, though he turned his attention to the next big moral crusade, Prohibition. But his sentimental song, “My Grandfather’s Clock” was a big hit, and is still heard today here and there.

Give it a listen. It still works, in its way, if you’re able to relax your sophistication.

Music, Poetry

‘Solveig’s Song’

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It’s Friday and I have neither a book to review nor a useful thought in my head. Therefore, I shall post a Sissel song.

(And there was great rejoicing.)

Yesterday, I might mention, was my birthday – and one of the big milestone ones. I won’t say which one, of course. Suffice it to say that I’ve outlived 3 of my grandparents, and one of my parents. The meditations this fact arouses in me are not, generally, comforting.

I pondered what kind of song would be suitable to commemorate my oldness and fullness of days. Nothing really commended itself, so I finally figured, well, just post a Sissel piece. What haven’t I done yet?

And I realized I’d never posted “Solveig’s Song.”

(I think. Checking would be too much trouble.)

Even if you’re not Norwegian (unlikely as that is), you’ve probably heard this melody somewhere before. It’s one of the classics from Edvard Grieg – part of the incidental music he wrote for Henrik Ibsen’s controversial, experimental play, “Peer Gynt.”

I will confess – I’ve never read “Peer Gynt.” It appeals to me more than most of Ibsen’s works (I’m not a fan), but from all I hear, it’s a “challenging” and obscure work, about a man who seems to be – like Ibsen himself – obstinately difficult and antisocial. He kidnaps a bride from her wedding, abandons her, and then is joined by Solveig (the Solveig of the song), the daughter of Haugean pietists (my people). He runs away from her too, in order to spend his life in foreign parts, seeking wealth, which he loses in the end. In the last act, he returns to Solveig, who has remained faithful to him, and tells him that he has committed no sin. Then she (probably) dies (the script isn’t clear).

Anyway, “Solveig’s Song” is a solo earlier in the play, in which Solveig expresses her faithful (I might say stupid) love. I suppose Solveig is meant to represent the mercy of God in some way, though (lumpkin that I am) I don’t really see it.

But Sissel sure sings it beautifully.

Have a good weekend.

Music

Sunday Singing: Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation

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Today’s hymn was originally written in Latin during the 7th century. It was translated and adapted by the great English scholar John M. Neale (1818-1866). He worked, “Angularis fundamentum lapis Christus missus est,” into the popular hymn, “Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation.” The tune is called “Westminster Abbey,” written by the Abbey’s own organist Henry Purcell (1659-1695).

“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, (Eph. 2:19-20 ESV)

1 Christ is made the sure foundation,
Christ the head and cornerstone,
chosen of the Lord and precious,
binding all the church in one;
holy Zion’s help forever
and her confidence alone.

2 All that dedicated city,
dearly loved of God on high,
in exultant jubilation
pours perpetual melody;
God the One in Three adoring
in glad hymns eternally.

3 To this temple, where we call thee,
come, O Lord of hosts today:
with thy wonted loving-kindness
hear thy people as they pray;
and thy fullest benediction
shed within its walls alway.

4 Here vouchsafe to all thy servants
what they ask of thee to gain,
what they gain from thee forever
with the blessed to retain,
and hereafter in thy glory
evermore with thee to reign.

5 Laud and honor to the Father,
laud and honor to the Son,
laud and honor to the Spirit,
ever Three and ever One,
One in might, and One in glory,
while unending ages run.

Music

Friday music: ‘Aura Lea’

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If it’s Friday and I don’t have a completed book to review, I turn to music. I’ve done a lot of Norwegian songs, but I’m running out of ones that are familiar to me (and I have surprisingly little to say about the ones that aren’t familiar to me). So I’m edging into traditional American songs. I don’t think the kids learn them anymore. Stephen Foster’s too racist, and anything written before the 1960s is pretty much assumed to be the same sort of thing.

I don’t think you can really find much fault with Aura Lea, though. A lovely, sentimental song full of longing and nostalgia, and the name “Aura Lea” sings particularly well. It offers a great opportunity for a singer to really open his throat on the long vowel and let go from the diaphragm. Elvis Presley sang the melody, with different lyrics, as “Love Me Tender” in 1956 (I’m old enough to remember when that one was new). “LMT” sings all right too, but I prefer the original.

The lyrics were written by W. W. Fosdick (1825-1862), an American lawyer who had some success as a poet in his day. The melody came from George Rodway Poulton (1828-1867), an English-born American. Neither of the two is remembered today for anything else, except that Poulton was tarred and feathered in 1864 for having an affair with a young student. Wikipedia, my source, does not say whether this trauma contributed to his early death three years later. Fosdick, you’ll note, was already dead by then, without assistance as far as I know.

But the song had, as they say in show business, “legs.” It was published in 1861, right about when the Civil War began. Soldiers on both sides took comfort from its unabashed sentiment, and sang it around their campfires. Minstrel shows featured it. The U.S. Military Academy came up with a song called “Army Blue” to the same tune, and made it a graduating class song.

Aura Lea is lyrical and sentimental and idealized. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing wrong with those things, as well as they’re done well.

(I see that I’ve posted about this song before. Ah well. Have a good weekend.)

Music, Uncategorized

Post-cataract patriotic stuff

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Here I am, in spite of my augurings yesterday, having risen from a bed of pain just to craft a blog post for you. And you alone. (I think that’s about the total size of our readership.)

I’m happy to report that, in spite of my warnings, I do have the ability to read a computer screen, and am capable of posting in a languid, invalid fashion. (I heard that! Somebody said, “How will that be any different?”)

I can report, since I know you’ve been holding your breath about it, that my cataract surgery went just fine. Everything looks good. I did not acquire immediate clear vision in my affected eye; they tell me that’ll probably take two or three days in my case. But everything seems to be squared away, ship shape and Bristol fashion. Thank you for your prayers.

Tomorrow is Independence Day. Hence, I post above the classic movie performance of “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” by that noted Norwegian-American actor, James Cagney. (Seriously. His mother’s father was a Norwegian sea captain.)

Have a free and brave Fourth!

Music

Sunday Singing: A Welcome to Christian Friends

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To continue our recent trend of sharing forgotten hymns, today’s hymn was written by the great John Newton, “A Welcome to Christian Friends.” It talks of our unity and comfort in Christ. The recording of Bach’s “O Jesus sweet, O Jesus mild” is a potential tune for it. You’ll have to make the adaptation as you listen.

“In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.” (Eph. 1:13-14 ESV)

1 Kindred in Christ, for his dear sake,
A hearty welcome here receive;
May we together now Partake
The Joys which only he can give!

2 To you and us by Grace ’tis giv’n,
To know the Saviour’s precious name;
And shortly we shall meet in Heav’n,
Our Hope, our Way, our End, the same.

3 May he, by whose kind Care we meet,
Send his good Spirit from above,
Make our Communications sweet,
And cause our hearts to burn with Love!

4 Forgotten be each worldly Theme,
When Christians see each other thus;
We only wish to speak of him,
Who liv’d and dy’d and rose for us.

5 We’ll talk of all he did and said,
And suffer’d for us here below;
The Path he mark’d for us to tread,
And what he’s doing for us now.

6 Thus, as the Moments pass away,
We’ll love, and Wonder and adore.
Lord, hasten on the glorious Day
When we shall meet to part no more!

Music

‘Hils Fra Meg Derhjemme’

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As you’ve probably noticed, on those increasingly frequent evenings when my skull contains only a couple thoughts rattling around, none of them usable here, I resort to posting music. Often it’s Scandinavian music. I’d like to pretend I do this because I grew up with it, but in fact I heard very few of these songs in my childhood, except the hymns. I learned them as an adult.

“Hils Fra Meg Derhjemme” is regarded as the Scandinavian-American anthem. I had the idea it was originally a Swedish song, but this article says it was first performed in Denmark. Nonetheless, all the Scandinavian immigrants adopted it. It’s a song of homesickness, and quite heartbreakingly beautiful.

There are a number of versions available on YouTube, but only a couple live performances. And most of those are either instrumentals or an odd, C&W adaptation. So I’ll have to settle for a performance performed in 2014 by Lynn Peterson and Garrison Keillor, on Prairie Home Companion. I’m no longer a fan of Keillor’s, and am loath to feature him here, but needs must.

As you can read in the article linked above, the song tells of a sailor at sea, standing watch at night. He sees birds flying north, and fancies they’re headed for his homeland. He asks them to take his greetings back to his family, to the green mountainsides and bright fjords (Swedish and Danish versions vary those details a little).

I don’t believe this song is well known in Norway. The last time I was there, I had an evening with the cousins at Avaldsnes, and Cousin Edna brought out her guitar. She asked people to share their favorite songs, and I suggested “Hils Fra Meg Derhjemme.” Nobody had ever heard of it.

Music

A song from my Grandma: ‘Nelly Gray’

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Tonight, an old song. Which probably means nothing to you, but it means something to me, and there’s a story or two in there, and stories are good things.

If there was an artistic side to my family, it was my paternal grandmother’s. Her father was a skilled artisan, with (I’m told) beautiful handwriting. Grandma sang and played the piano and guitar – I don’t think she was anything like a virtuoso, but she could sight-read, something I never achieved.

Sometimes she’d sit at the piano and play for her own amusement, and her favorite song seemed to be “Nelly Gray” (video above), a very popular pre-Civil War anti-slavery ballad. I have no idea where she learned it. Maybe her piano teacher made her memorize it. Maybe it was popular in her family – her own parents came to America in the 1880s, long after abolition had been accomplished, but she had cousins who came in the 1840s.

“Nelly Gray” was written by a United Brethren minister and songwriter named Benjamin Hanby (who also wrote the Christmas songs “Up on the Housetop” and “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”).

Like all the United Brethren, Hanby was a strong abolitionist. His family had given shelter to an escaped slave named Joseph Selby, who had left his sweetheart behind in Kentucky. The family was trying to raise money to buy her freedom when Selby died of pneumonia. Deeply moved, Benjamin Hanby created the song “Nelly Gray” (published 1856) about a slave in Kentucky whose sweetheart has been “sold down the river” to Georgia (generally considered a crueler place for bondsmen than Kentucky). He laments her loss, and at the end of the song he is dying, looking forward to their reunion in Heaven.

Music, Poetry

Sunday Singing: All Flesh is Grass

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Today’s hymn is another one William Cowper (1731-1800) that you won’t find in your hymnal. In fact, I don’t have a tune for it. I found it in The Churchman’s Treasury of Song from 1907. It’s a portion of his larger work The Task, published in 1794. In The Churchman’s Treasury of Song, it’s given as a devotional hymn for the third week after Easter.

The Poetry Foundation described Cowper as “the foremost poet of the generation between Alexander Pope and William Wordsworth. For several decades, he had probably the largest readership of any English poet. From 1782, when his first major volume appeared, to 1837, the year in which Robert Southey completed the monumental Life and Works of Cowper, more than 100 editions of his poems were published in Britain and almost 50 in America.”

This hymn focuses on mortality and ultimate truth.

“I, I am he who comforts you;
who are you that you are afraid of dman who dies,
of the son of man who is made like grass,
and have forgotten the Lord, your Maker,
who stretched out the heavens
and glaid the foundations of the earth . . .” (Isaiah 51:12-13 ESV)

All flesh is grass, and all its glory fades
Like the fair flower dishevell’d in the wind;
Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream.
The man we celebrate must find a tomb,
And we that worship him ignoble graves.
Nothing is proof against the general curse
Of vanity, that seizes all below.
The only amaranthine flower on earth
Is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.
But what is truth? ‘Twas Pilate’s question put
To Truth itself, that deign’d him no reply.
And wherefore? will not God impart his light
To them that ask it?—Freely—’tis his joy,
His glory, and his nature to impart.
But to the proud, uncandid, insincere,
Or negligent inquirer, not a spark.
What’s that which brings contempt upon a book,
And him who writes it, though the style be neat,
The method clear, and argument exact?
That makes a minister in holy things
The joy of many and the dread of more,
His name a theme for praise and for reproach?—
That, while it gives us worth in God’s account,
Depreciates and undoes us in our own?
What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up;
But which the poor, and the despised of all,
Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me—and I will tell thee what is truth.

Music

Sunday Singing: Exhortations to Prayer

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Today’s hymn comes from the great English poet William Cowper (1731-1800; his name is pronounced “Cooper”) who struggled with depression for most of his life and found godly comfort in the pastoral care of John Newton (1725-1807). Read the text Cowper’s hymn, understanding the author felt darkened clouds were drawn to him and fought to take strength in the joy of the Lord.

This one won’t be in your hymnal. It was written in 1779 and paired with tunes I can’t readily find recordings for. The one above is a familiar one that works, which is the way hymns have been sung for many years.

“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. . . . praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication” (Eph 6:13, 18 ESV).

  1. What various hindrances we meet
    in coming to the mercy seat!
    Yet who that knows the worth of pray’r
    but wishes to be often there!
  2. Pray’r makes the darkened clouds withdraw;
    pray’r climbs the ladder Jacob saw;
    gives exercise to faith and love;
    brings ev’ry blessing from above.
  3. Restraining pray’r, we cease to fight;
    pray’r makes the Christian’s armor bright;
    and Satan trembles when he sees
    the weakest saint upon his knees.
  4. Have you no words? Ah, think again:
    words flow apace when you complain,
    and fill a fellow-creature’s ear
    with the sad tale of all your care.
  5. Were half the breath thus vainly spent
    to heav’n in supplication sent,
    our cheerful song would oft’ner be,
    “Hear what the Lord hath done for me!”