Those Artists Are Always Looking Inwards, Tugging At The Heartstrings- Nostalgia, Regret & The Sublime

It’s very lush, bombastic, emotional and Romantic, but those first few minutes of wandering bassoon reach nostalgic, meditative melancholy for me.

Give the first minute a listen, if nothing else:

Towards that theme, David Gilmour (of Pink Floyd) jumps to a lap steel guitar to unleash raw, tattered glory at minute 5:13 of this live performance of High Hopes.

John Williams playing Isaac Albeniz’ Cordoba reaches a more sublime state for me (especially at minute 1:20):

I think this is more reflection and a desire for the holy and larger-than-oneself (ducking into the Mosque away from the busy streets….into quiet interplay of shadow and sun, observing the stars carved into the ceiling).

Is our desire for the transcendent, pure and true simply reflected in this rather useless activity we tend to cherish so much?  Can the arts corrupt you?  Do you need a guide?

As posted:

Via C-SPAN-The Historical Context Of Allan Bloom

Thanks to a reader.

Quite a varied discussion on Bloom’s surprise 1987 bestseller: ‘The Closing Of The American Mind

Does rock/popular music corrupt the souls of youth in preventing them from evening-out the passions; from pursuing higher things that a quality humanities education can offer?

Might such a lack allow political ideology to offer young people something to do, something to be, and something of which to be a part?

A questioning of premises, with varied disagreement, including that from an Emersonian.

Related On This Site:

Heather McDonald At The WSJ: ‘ The Humanities Have Forgotten Their Humanity’

-Update And Repost- From YouTube: Leo Strauss On The Meno-More On The Fact/Value Distinction?’

Repost-From Darwinian Conservatism: ‘Nietzsche–Aristocratic Radical or Aristocratic Liberal?’

-Update And Repost: ‘A Few Thoughts On Allan Bloom–The Nietzsche / Strauss Connection’

Various Products Of Radical Reason And Reactions To Them- John Gray At The New Statesman

Some Sunday Swedish Pop-Country-Folk Links

These are great vocals and harmonies and very good songwriting.  It’s country-folk with a bit of distance and strangeness; as though its been washed-through some pop and the indie L.A. scene, but also, apparently, through Sweden.

The Swedes seem to bring a forlorn, northern folk-depth to the table.

Hey, this reciprocity works for me:

A quintessential pop-song.  There’s actually a lot of depth and arrangment here:

Downward To Darkness: Friday Poem From A Reader-Wallace Stevens’ ‘Sunday Morning’

A return to Nature?  To origins of faith?  To a simple freedom in a wild land, and new understandings, with death in view? To visions of Romantic Primitivism becoming modern?:

VII

Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.

Wallace Stevens

Full poem here.

Read it aloud, for God’s sake, as the meaning lies in the experience of saying.

Three Songs and A Poem-Merry Christmas

I prefer ‘Silent Night’ to be pure, and simple, and clear.   I imagine drifts of snow frozen and crusted over, everything still, under a starry sky.

A bit of a prayer, really, but one of warmth:

It reminded me of this:

IV

My fiftieth year had come and gone,
I sat, a solitary man,
In a crowded London shop,
An open book and empty cup
On the marble table-top.
While on the shop and street I gazed
My body of a sudden blazed;
And twenty minutes more or less
It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessed and could bless.

William Butler Yeats

Whole poem here.


Not exactly Christmas…

Become a gentlemen, and recover your nobility, honor, and dignity, but with twinges of nostalgia, melancholy and loss.

Please don’t think of windmills, but there’s a lot of Spain in this one:

And if you’re tired of Christmas music, have some metal. Give this one a chance. It’s exquisitely played and thoughtfully arranged: