Flat But Colorful
December 30th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
by Matthew Raley
What attracts me to Matisse is the way he accentuates patterns by eliminating depth.
In this painting, as in so many of his works, he gives us a flat surface with a multitude of designs vying for attention: one pattern on the floor, another on the red curtain, still another on the yellow wallpaper, more yet on the crown molding.
I don’t think it’s going too far to say that, without the illusion of depth, the two chairs, the railing on the balcony, and the violin case become abstracted design elements rather than representations.
They’re just more patterns.
Nathan Milstein’s “Kreutzer”
December 29th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
My friend Dr. David Mallory, a formidable violinist, told me that one test of a violin is to perform Beethoven’s Kreutzer sonata with a nine-foot grand piano. If the violin is audible it passes the test.
Here is my favorite violinist, Milstein, playing the Kreutzer’s last movement. I call Milstein my favorite not because his playing was better than other virtuosi, but because his eccentricities speak to me.
He held the violin slightly lower on the shoulder than most other players, and his bowing was not particularly straight, making his appearance seem loose. But his playing always strikes me as intuitive and free, as if he were improvising. Milstein seemed to have absorbed the music into his very personality.
His use of the bow in this piece is fantastic. He goes out of his way to place accents at the tip of the bow (0:30), rather than at the frog — where the bow is held, and where gravity urges us to place our accents. The effect is a definite nudge at the front of the note with growth as the note is sustained.
I am also struck by Milstein as a collaborator with Georges Pludermacher, his pianist. When he has running eigth-notes with the piano (5:10), Milstein drops his volume slightly, allowing his sound to blend with the sound from Pludermacher’s right hand.
And, of course, the gold tone of Milstein’s Strad can be heard just fine.
New Page
December 26th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
By Matthew Raley
The eagle-eyed will already have noticed that I added the page About: Tritone Life to the sidebar. It offers two things every reader needs: an explanation of the tritone and its signficance as a metaphor for this blog, and, more importantly, some gorgeous music.
From Bach’s Christmas Oratorio
December 24th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Here is alto Angelika Kirchschlager singing “Bereite dich Zion.” Translation of the text:
Prepare thyself, Zion, with tender desire/ the Fairest and Dearest to behold with thee soon!/ Thy cheeks/ today must shine the lovelier;/ hasten most ardently the Bridegroom to love.
Merry Christmas!
An Engraved Nativity
December 23rd, 2008 § 2 Comments
If we want models for Christian art that speaks truly and deeply, giving no concession to sentimentality, I nominate Dürer.
He not only gives us a stable, but a total wreck. I love the timbers balanced precariously above the courtyard, and the window swinging on its hinges in the room above baby Jesus. How many pigeons live in there? The plaster crumbling off the exterior and the trees growing out of the ruins in the background are also marvelous atmospheric touches.
But the thing that grabs me in this engraving is the fact that I have to hunt for Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The figure in plain view is that of an old man preoccupied with pouring water into a too-narrow jar. In the stress of his task, he seems unaware that God is just up those neglected steps.
Unbelief and the Judgments of Others
December 18th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
One Sunday when I was a sophomore in high school, our pastor gave a sermon on baptism and invited people to come forward. My parents had not made an issue of the ordinance because they felt they had been baptized too young, and they wanted the decision to come from me. I went forward.
As I knelt, my grandpa’s hand came around my shoulder. It was a decision he had been praying I would make, though he hadn’t ever mentioned it. My dad decided to be baptized again in the same service with me, and I remember several significant friends waiting their turns around the baptistry while I gave my testimony.
It was humbling for me to undergo something so physical in front of the whole church on a Sunday morning, something that left me wet and sputtering. It was also a moment of high commitment in front of my fathers. At the end of my testimony, I said, “I want everyone to know that I’m going to follow Christ for my whole life.”
Later, I learned that some people took my statement as prideful.
I realized why they thought so — my stomach tightening and my spine freezing at the memory of my tone of voice in speaking those words. I regretted sounding so pompous in front of several hundred people at an event I had wanted to honor the Lord. It was humiliating.
I was also angry. As poorly as my words came across, they had no guile. I meant what I said, and I understood as well as someone can at 16 that my commitment would have a price. I felt I had been willfully misunderstood by a group for which loftiness was a big negative. My feeling was (though the exact term wasn’t in currency then), ”Do I have to spin my own baptism?”
In Sunday’s sermon, we saw Hannah’s experience of being rebuked by Eli (1 Samuel 1). On top of her other humiliations, the high priest of Israel mistook her prayers for a drunken stupor. She shot back, “Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.”
Such destructive judgments can leave you hobbled by unbelief. When the people around you do not regard your searching for Christ as sincere, or worse, when they make accusations that are untrue, you can feel that your pursuit of godliness makes your life worse rather than better. You can even feel that Christ is unreachable beyond the barrier of judgmentalism.
Some observations:
1. The admonition to ignore the people around you is not wise.
The cliché spouters would have you believe that “it doesn’t matter what other people think,” as if you can build a godly life in isolation.
It does matter what people think. We all know it matters, and there’s no healthy way to ignore such judgments. When you get slapped with a label, you are driven to tear it off — or to prove that it doesn’t matter. You’re lazy. You’re too emotional. You’re proud. Words like these can determine your whole strategy in life.
Hannah didn’t ignore Eli judgment, as if she could rise above it. She confronted the priest’s assumptions.
How can you do the same?
2. The ability to sift a speck of gold out of a pan full of mud is worth having.
I have learned a great deal from criticism, even when it’s unjust. When my baptism testimony sounded proud to some, I tried to see what they saw, and hear what they heard. I tried to hear my voice without the affirmation of my emotions.
I began the arduous work — as yet incomplete — of finding tones that match my best intentions instead of expressing my strongest feelings.
But I learned something far more important from the blow: I can stand back from myself and evaluate. I am not imprisoned in my own point of view. Over time, this realization has given me confidence.
3. The way to deal rightly with judgmental people is to draw near to a gracious God.
Hannah chose to trust God more than God’s representative. Her demand that Eli not consider her worthless was linked tellingly to her declaration, “I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord.” Her sense of worth came from the fact that the Lord listened to her. She had, in other words, a relationship that trumped Eli’s claims.
Nowhere is a high view of God more powerful than in nurturing a healthy view of ourselves. When individuals cultivate a deep fellowship with him — that is, when Christ ceases to be a scorekeeper and becomes a coach — they are able to escape the talons of others’ manipulation and anger.
Small gods make small people. The living God makes large people.
4. Having seen the destructive power of reactive judgment, double-check the way you use your own influence.
Are you Eli too?
There is the poison in the pomposity I am still learning to discard.
Audio: Barren in the Midst of Despair (3 of 4)
December 18th, 2008 § 2 Comments
Sermon audio (12-14-08): Barren In the Midst of Despair
Here is a sermon about Hannah, the wife of a polygamist with an inflated view of his attractiveness. Her co-wife has lots of children, but Hannah has none. Burdened with these troubles, she can’t even pray without being persecuted by the high priest of Israel, Eli.
Eli is contemporized by this marvelous woodcut from a series called, “One-Hundred Views of Chicago.” Who is the object of such a man’s concern?
Audio: Barren and Without a Name (2 of 4)
December 17th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Sermon audio (12-7-08): Barren and Without a Name
A major character in this sermon is the angel of the Lord, who appears to an anonymous barren woman in Judges 13 and announces that she will have a son. We explore the connection between ignorance and unbelief, the significance of the angel of the Lord in the Old Testament, and the grace of God in our deepest needs.
For a piece of art to use in the sermon’s Powerpoint slides, I thought I was going to have to find some gleaming angel. But providentially I found The Flame, a visual counterpart to the more important symbol of holiness in this passage.
Would it be presumptuous to assert that this is the first sermon in the history of world to use a Jackson Pollock painting?
David Oistrakh Plays Brahms
December 16th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Here is a violin master performing the Scherzo by Johannes Brahms. There are several things I respond to in Oistrakh’s playing.
For starters, Oistrakh played at a time when art music didn’t have to be sold. He played with a disregard for the audience that I find healthy, as opposed to camera-oriented attitude that classical performers apparently have to have today. I accept the necessity of marketing in the arts now. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
I love the economy and potency of Oistrakh’s movements. I love the straightforward reading he gives here: not a lot of fooling with the tempo. And I think Brahms left us an compelling little piece.
But it’s Oistrakh’s tone that knocks me over. It is focused, clear, deep, and gutsy. And he uses changes of tone color and vibrato to express harmonic and melodic subtleties. Check out the change of sound he makes by lightening the bow toward the end of the second theme (1:40).
It’s also comforting to know that the violin gods sweat.
Appreciating the Power of a Drawing
December 15th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
I have always been partial to intimate media — such gems as art songs, strings quartets, and drawings. I am quickly absorbed.
In part, my love of drawings comes from childhood. My dad’s charcoal drawings always hung in our home when I was small, and for me his draftsmanship had a definite voice. There is also the pleasure of good paper, the tactile interest of which I began to enjoy early. Though it might seem strange, I was also taken with the colors of drawings as boy. The browns, occasional reds, and blacks I found to be not austere but warm.
Now, most of all, I enjoy the power of simple and spare compositions.
This drawing is a favorite. The design books tell me that the horizontal lines create a calm atmosphere. I sense a gentle flow toward the right of this picture. And I especially like the ease with which Rembrandt moves my eye from the darker foreground to the actual focal point of the composition, the lighter and more distant boat.




