Atgyfododd Crist!
For the last post of this Cranberries week, I offer the hit that, along with “Linger,” earned the band label support—“Dreams” from Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?
Ah, the old country . . .
A similar song from a decade later is “Analyse” from Wake Up and Smell the Coffee:
I love how utterly lacking in pretense O’Riordan is. She dances like this in concert, too. A free spirit . . .
Dasorc’het eo Krist!
For today’s Cranberries pick, here is “I Can’t Be with You” performed live in Canada:
The official video is just weird and creepy.
Taw Creest ereen!
Continuing with this week’s theme, here is a live performance of “Ode to My Family” by The Cranberries:
The song is from No Need to Argue, released in A.D. 1994.
Tá Críost éirithe!
I saw The Cranberries last night at the 9:30 Club. The last pop concert that I attended was Belle & Sebastian at Constitution Hall a year and a half ago, and it has been nine years since I was last at the 9:30 Club, when I danced with an excellently nerdy crowd wildly appreciative of John and John’s crazy T.M.B.G. antics. I much prefer the 9:30 Club and its more intimate vibe. I decided to try the balcony this time, and I managed to get a decent spot. Here is a photograph taken from my less than spectacular mobile telephone camera:
The opening act was the very energetic Vintage Trouble. During the act, I kept on thinking how delighted my mother would have been to be there. It was her kind of music. The band calls itself “vintage,” and I felt as if I were visiting my parents’ era. The lead Ty Taylor has the voice and showmanship of a black Baptist turned 1960’s pop star. The crowd loved it.
The time warp continued when Dolores O’Riordan and her mates took the stage as I was transported back to my childhood. I had friends who were savants of the European music scene in the early 90’s, and they introduced me to The Cranberries before the band went mainstream. I did not care for O’Riordan’s style at first, but I quickly became a fan. It was fun to see them in person two decades later as an adult surrounded by all age groups that came out for the concert.
Though the members are no longer young—O’Riordan is forty years old—they put on a good show. O’Riordan was feisty and enjoyed herself in a silly, youthful way, though with commentary between songs about her children. At one point, a fan gave O’Riordan a stuffed University of Maryland Terrapin, which she set in front of the drum set until the end of the show. After the encore, she took the turtle with her off the stage, which was endearing. Band members Noel Hogan, Mike Hogan, and Fergal Lawler also delighted in the music. Lawler has some impressive guns, by the way. I suppose that such proves quite useful for a drummer.
The band played many favorites from their discography run as well as songs from their new album, Roses, such as “Tomorrow.” The highlight of the concert was the last song before the encore, “Zombie,” when the band and the crowd reached the Dionysian unity that typifies successful rock performances. Here is the video from A.D. 1994, complete with yet more eery and confusing religious imagery in addition to topical scenes for a song about the British conflict:
My only criticism of the night would be the loudness and the consequent loss of sound quality. The 9:30 Club has massive speakers that you can feel in your pancreas—and everywhere else. I still like the place, and I am glad that I finally saw The Cranberries live.
Asréracht Críst!
This week will have a Cranberries theme because of their concert that I’ll attend tonight at the 9:30 Club. The Cranberries released their new album, Roses, in February after an eleven year hiatus. Here is “Tomorrow” from Roses:
What is up with the rosary? A funereal scene, perhaps? O’Riordan and her oddly placed Catholic imagery . . .
Christ is risen!
As I mentioned three years ago in “The Angel Cried,” one of my favorite hymns is the Paschal hymn to the Theotokos. Here it is sung in English by a small choir in California:
May the rest of your Bright Week be blessed.
Christ is born!
Merry Christmas on this fifth day of the Nativity. May the Holy Innocents be ever remembered! Even adjusting for the calendar discrepancy, I have no idea why the memorial is observed on different days in the West (December 28) and in the East (December 29). Moreover, Wikipedia notes that the Syriac Orthodox Church, the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church, and Maronite Church commemorate the Innocents on December 27. Like the feast of Saint Catherine or of the Conception of the Theotokos, the date varies by a day or two.
Significantly more cheerful than slain boys is the fine art of remaking fine art. Booooooom is currently showcasing submissions that you may enjoy. Some are silly and boringly transgressive, while others are striking and impressive in their fidelity to the original, in their creative departures, and in their own manifestations of beauty. There are currently seven pages of remakes, but the number appears to continue to increase. Here are the current links:
Remake Submissions / Part I
Remake Submissions / Part II
Remake Submissions / Part III
Remake Submissions / Part IV
Remake Submissions / Part V
Remake Submissions / Part VI
Remake Submissions / Part VII
I liked the following the most:
Le Désespéré remake by Stefano Telloni (currently in Part I)—perfect.
Pot Pourri remake by Tania Brassesco and Lazlo Passi Norberto (I)—lovely.
The Beaneater remake by Mark Bass (I)—a young Matt Drudge strikes a remake pose.
Portrait of the Actress Jeanne Samary remake by Marianna Oboeva (I)—she is there.
Grande Odalisque remake by Patrick Richmond Nicholas (I)—the Ingresque meets the Delacroixian.
Bedroom in Arles remake by Joshua Louis Simon (I)—impressive copy.
Supper at Emmaus remake by Jeff Hazelden (I)—nice lighting
Nighthawks remake by Bastian Vice (I)—it captures the vibe.
David and Goliath remake by Miguel Iturbe (II)—beautifully morbid.
Self Portrait 1889 remake by Seth Johnson (II)—the Meryl Streep of art remakes.
Girl reading a letter by an open window remake by Wanda Martin (III)—lovely, but a sad reminder of a lost art.
Man in a red turban remake by Ryan Halliwill (III)—I love the color and the light.
The Girl With The Pearl Earring remake by Sarah McCollum (III)—I love this series, but this one gets a nod for its humanity.
The Girl With The Pearl Earring remake by Sybille de Chavagnac (III)—But this one wins; it startles me . . . gorgeous remake.
Narcissus remake by Marco Serina (III)—most of the nude reinterpretations are often silly, but this one works beautifully.
Narcissus remake by Shmu James Levine (III)—excellent reflection.
Narcissus remake by Max Zerrahn (III)—quite faithful.
The Incredulity of Saint Thomas remake by Cope Amezcua (IV)—lovely with good lighting.
Dance remake by Samantha Madonik (IV)—it conveys the pagan energy superbly.
The Death of Marat remake by Christian Strevy (V)—striking . . . bravo!
The Infanta Margarita of Austria remake by Jessica Rossi—props for comedic value.
Violon d’Ingres remake by Lujian Zeta Zee (VI)—excellent.
Arachne remake by Eugenia Blanc (VI)—I love the light upon the skin . . . beautiful.
Madame X remake by Emily Kiyomi (VI)—it captures the spirit of the original well.
St. Rose of Lima remake by Genevieve Blais (VI)—uncanny approximation of that sort of pious art.
St. Francis in Ecstasy remake by Nicola Bailey (VI)—I am not usually a fan of the ironic, but I love the phone.
Boy with a basket of fruit remake by Guido Ricci (VI)—impressive.
Marta e Maddalena remake by Guido Ricci (VI)—most impressive.
San Giovanni Battista remake by Massimiliano Vermi (VI)—kudos, but perhaps less pulchritude and more gravity is appropriate for the subject matter . . . and the croton is too much.
Self-Portrait 1629 remake by Matt Martens (VII)—not bad.
New York City, 1956 remake by Kelly Culhane—not a good copy, but still an evocative photograph.
Loie Fuller in La danse blanche remake by Charlotte Doran Davies (VII)—beautiful.
Portrait of Leonora Carrington remake by Srge Miranda—I love the woman’s intensity.
Young Woman Escaping remake by Alma and Ed (VII)—very fun.
Salon des Cent 1896 remake by Charlotte Davies (VII)—it keeps the sensuality, but it lacks the ethereal quality of the original.
Le Baiser remake by Sybille de Chavagnac (VII)—ambitious.
Two Cherubs remake by Bri Hammond—somewhat sacrilegious, but charming.
Starry Night over the Rhone remake by Breno Rodrigues (VII)—clever.
Portrait of a Lady remake by Sara Huneke (VII)—another excellent presentation of personality.
If it is not apparent, I am a sucker for lighting. One of my favorite paintings is Georges de la Tour’s The Repentant Magdalen. Online pictures do not do it justice, as is always the case. Make sure to see it if you are ever at the National Gallery of Art.
Christ is born!
Here is the Russian Cathedral Choir of Paris singing the kontakion for the feast of the Nativity:
Here are the troparion and some other hymns specific to the feast by an unknown choir:
Monachos has the texts for various hymns.
Troparion of the Nativity:
Thy Nativity, O Christ our God,
Hath shone upon the world the light of knowledge;
For thereby, they that worshipped the stars
Were taught by a star
To worship Thee, the Sun of Righteousness,
And to know Thee, the Dayspring from on high.
O Lord, glory be to Thee!
Kontakion of the Nativity:
Today the Virgin giveth birth
To Him who is above all being,
And the earth offereth a cave
To Him whom no man can approach.
Angels with shepherds give glory,
And magi journey with a star.
For our sake is born a young Child,
The Pre-eternal God!
I would like to wish everyone who follows the old calendar a lovely Christmas Eve today and a very merry Christmas tomorrow.
For those on the new calendar, may you have a blessed Epiphany today.
It is fitting to offer something mirthful on the feast, but I give you rather something sadly humorous. Last week, I found Eric Metaxas’ “Does Anyone in the Media Ever Read the Bible?” on Fox News. Metaxas recounts various episodes of shocking biblical illiteracy, including a remarkable example from George Whitman’s obituary in The New York Times:
“[George] welcomed visitors with large-print messages on the walls. ‘Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise,’ was one, quoting Yeats.”
Yeats!? Did you catch that? I choked on my toast. Did the Times actually just say that “Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise” was from Yeats? Unless I had fallen down a rabbit hole, that quote was from the Bible. It’s from Hebrews 13:2 and it’s quite famous. If you didn’t catch it, don’t feel too badly, because you are probably not The New York Times. You are probably not America’s “paper of record”, proud owner of 106 Pulitzer Prizes in Journalism—more than any other newspaper. You probably don’t have squadrons of fact-checkers on your payroll.
I still couldn’t believe what I’d just read, so I kept reading, looking for some explanation. There was none. I then shook the paper to make sure I was reading an actual newspaper, and not, say, an email forward from an aged friend. Nope. This really was the New York Times, the Old Grey Lady, whose motto was “All the News that’s Fit to Print.” And let’s face it, if W.B. Yeats was the real author of the Bible’s “Book of Hebrews,” that really would be big news!
I often express to family and friends how surprised I am by widespread scriptural ignorance, especially in the young. Even Protestant youngsters are clueless. It is no wonder that apostasy is so rampant. Christian parents are failing miserably to raise their children in the faith.
The world is going to hell in a handbasket, but let me rescue this post from too much despair—or at least philistine despair. To tie together the feasts celebrated today, East and West, with the hallowed inspiration of the Irish Bard, here is “The Magi”:
Now as at all times I can see in the mind’s eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary’s turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.
To mix further the sacred and the profane, I wonder if Yeats’ poem was one of the inspirations for U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”
In any case, merry Christmas! Christ is born!
Have a good civil new year over the weekend!
At times, I delight in human beings. I just discovered the Ozark Medieval Fortress project in Arkansas, and I have another reason to visit the Natural State. The story starts with Frenchman Michel Guyot’s decision to purchase and renovate Saint-Fargeau Castle in Burgundy. He financed the rebuilding by turning the castle into a tourist destination. Guyot has assisted in helping others save derilict castles, as well. His experience in restoring castles gave him the idea of building a new castle with the technology and materials available to the castle builders of past ages. Such a project would help students of medieval architecture better understand the objects of their discipline. It is the history department’s meeting the faculties of natural philosophy, where one reproduces an experiment in the laboratory. Guyot’s lab is Guédelon, also in Burgundy. The new castle’s construction began in A.D. 1997, and Guyot’s team expects the building to take twenty-five years.
A French couple who moved to Arkansas two decades ago, Jean-Marc and Solange Mirat, decided that they wanted Guyot to establish an architectural-historical-touristy fiefdom in the Ozarks. The project started two years ago, and now one may visit, volunteer at, or become an intern for the Ozark Medieval Fortress in Lead Hill, Arkansas.
Less historically careful but still fascinating is Loveland Castle, not far from Cincinnati. I have visited “Chateau Laroche” since I was a child, and I still marvel at its wonderful weirdness. I often lament civilizational decline and the ruin of the West, and I think that my pessimism is well founded. However, remnants will always remain. A segment of mankind will always be too beautifully odd and indifferent to the masses to go along with whatever dominant development in social evolution. Whether it is a monastery in Wyoming during a new dark age or Christian settlements in Appalachia that thrive while former American cities decay in a Mad Max style apocalyptic wasteland, civilization will survive. Like seeds of mighty trees destroyed by a holocaust, pockets of the West will experience rebirth after the ruin. I still lament the impending fall, but I suppose that there is always room for justified hope. On such a note, I wish you well on every good endeavor in the new year.