“The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,
St. Stephen’s Day was caught in the furze.
Although he was little his honor was great,
Jump up me lads and give us a treat.”
Kalėdų rytų rožė inžydo
(Christmas morning a rose has bloomed)
Kalėdų rytų rožė inžydo, lylio kalėda kalėda,
Sekminių rytu dyvai pasidarė, lylio kalėda kalėda,
Dyvai pasidarė: ažerai užšalo, lylio kalėda kalėda,
Jaunas bernelis ladelį kirto, lylio kalėda kalėda,
Ladelį kirto, žirgelį girdė, lylio kalėda kalėda,
Žirgelį girdė, mergeli virgdė, lylio kalėda kalėda,
AtlakÄ— elnias Devyniaragis, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da,
Ant pirmo rago ugnelÄ— degÄ—, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da,
An` antro rago kavoliai kalÄ—, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da.
â§
Christmas morning a rose has bloomed, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da,
Sunday morning a miracle has happened, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da
A Miracle happened as the lake is frozen, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da
The Young boy was smashing the ice, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da, Was s
Smashing the ice, to give the horse a drink, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da
Giving a horse a drink made a girl cry, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da,
Then came the Moose with nine horns, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da
On the first horn the Fire was burning, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da
On the other horn blacksmiths were hammering, lylio kalÄ—da kalÄ—da.
Let’s start the Christmas carols with some Russian ones this year. After all, they supposedly stole the election for Trump with some Instagram postings and Tweets!
Armand D’Angour, an associate professor in classics and a fellow of Jesus College at the University of Oxford, in Aeon, claims to be able to reconstruct the music of Ancient Greece.
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead;
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed;
I wept as I remembered how often you and I
Had tired the sun with talking, and sent him down the sky.
And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest,
A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest,
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.
This epigram by Callimachus, in a moving translation by the Victorian poet William Johnson Cory, speaks of the timeless survival of Heraclitus’ songs. Ironically, the poem is the only evidence of their existence: the poet’s ‘pleasant voices’ must remain unsung. Most classical poetry, spanning around four centuries from the songs of Homer in the 8th century BCE to those Âof Aristophanes in the 4th century BCE, was in fact composed to be sung to the accompaniment of musical instruments such as the lyre and aulos (double-pipe). It was, in other words, music; but what did that music sound like?
Despite a wealth of ancient writings, archaeological remains of instruments, and even inscriptions with musical notation, the question has long been thought intractable. ‘Research into Ancient Greek music is pointless,’ pronounced Giuseppe Verdi in the 1880s. By the 1980s little had changed. Recently, however, the subject has experienced exciting developments, with credible realisations of musical scores and the remains of auloi being accurately reconstructed and beautifully played.
These knives, which have musical scores engraved in their blades, brought a table together in singing their prayers, and may have been used to carve the lamb or beef in their “striking balance of decorative and utilitarian function.†At least historians think such “notation knives,†which date from the early 1500s, were used at banquets. “The sharp, wide steel would have been ideal for cutting and serving meat,†writes Eliza Grace Martin at the WQXR blog, “and the accentuated tip would have made for a perfect skewer.†But as Kristen Kalber, curator at the Victoria and Albert Museum, which houses the knives at the top of the post, tells us “diners in very grand feasts didn’t cut their own meat.†It’s unlikely they would have sung from the bloody knives held by their servants.
The knives’ true purpose “remains a mystery,†Martin remarks, like many “rituals of the Renaissance table.†Victoria and Albert Museum curator Kirstin Kennedy admits in the video above that “we are not entirely sure†what the “splendid knife†she holds was used for. But we do know that each knife had a different piece of music on each side, and that a set of them together contained different harmony parts in order to turn a roomful of diners into a chorus. One set of blades had the grace on one side, with the inscription, “the blessing of the table. May the three-in-one bless that which we are about to eat.†The other side holds the benediction, to be sung after the dinner: “The saying of grace. We give thanks to you God for your generosity.â€
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Kristen Kalber, at the Victoria & Albert Museum, discusses these knives.
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Maya Corry discusses the Fitzwillian Museum’s musical notation knives starting at 2:30.
