Occasional Glimpses of the Sublime

Chants d’Auvergne (English: Songs from the Auvergne) is a collection of folk songs from the Auvergne region of France, arranged for soprano and orchestra by French composer and musicologist Joseph Canteloube in the 1920s. The songs are in the local language, Occitan (also known as Langue d’Oc, hence the name of the former province of southern France, Languedoc). Canteloube’s family had deep roots in the Auvergne region, and his arrangements are a labour of love borne from an eagerness to immortalise the folklore and beauty of his home region.

The best-known of Canteloube’s collection is Baïlèro, and this recording, by the Spanish soprano, Victoria de los Ángeles, is surely the most beautifully delivered version of it.

The song is achingly wistful. It evokes a sense of longing, for what – homeland, lost love, lost youth? – it matters not. Victoria de los Ángeles speaks directly to the heart of the listener and perhaps her Catalan background, connected as it is with the peasant traditions of the wider area sometimes known as Occitania, lends itself to the rustic charm.

I heard it years ago on a compilation CD and fell for it instantly. I feel the sense of landscape, of affinity with one’s roots, of being connected to one’s environment, and at the same time the plaintive feeling of separation and yearning that pervades the piece. It all adds up to a wellspring of emotional power.

I only recently looked up the Occitan words and their English translation; they are pastoral in tone (unsurprising given that they are peasant folk-songs), and feature a call-and-response pattern between the singer and her shepherd love. Of course, it doesn’t matter what the lyrics are; it is the feel of the music and the voice that count, but to some extent the sense of longing and separation is corroborated by the lyric:

Pastré couci foraï,
En obal io lou bel riou
Dio lou baïlèro lèrô…

Shepherd, the water divides us,
And I cannot cross it,
Sing baïlèro lèrô…

I am presenting the music here with some imagery of the mountains, lakes and cascades of the Auvergne, but really you are as well to listen with eyes closed, feet up, in a quiet, pleasant environment, and a large glass of wine in hand. Enjoy…

Greetings, and welcome to my blog!

Here’s where I introduce the theme of my blog, following which, depending upon whether or not your curiosity is sufficiently whetted to continue reading, I will meet you again at the end of the week with my first post proper!

So, what’s it all about, and what’s with the title? Let me explain…

In the history of aesthetics, the idea of “the sublime” has a long pedigree, and its meaning has been debated throughout the centuries by generations of artists, writers, poets, musicians and critics. These days, however, the word “sublime” has a pretty straightforward definition; in everyday language it simply means “excellent” or “exceptional” and can be applied to almost anything that can be refined to the highest point…such as a perfectly executed goal in football, or an exquisitely cooked meal.

In this blog, I will take as my lead this modern sense of “exceptional”, and apply it to the varied worlds of art, music, film, television, theatre, opera, and literature (anything you can see or hear and which I can embed or link to, basically). I will choose examples that I think stand out from the crowd (“occasional glimpses”) by virtue of their excellence or cultural significance, and write about them, hopefully in an interesting way, and by so doing, share them with you.

To give you an idea, here are, in no particular order, some sublime creations slated for upcoming posts: Barbara Bonney’s rendering of Schubert’s Ave Maria; the use of Rachmaninoff’s 2nd Piano Concerto in Brief Encounter; Jan Van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece; Tennyson’s poem The Charge of the Light Brigade. However, the sublime is represented in popular culture, too: also upcoming are pieces on Jack Nicholson’s portrayal of Badass Buddusky in The Last Detail; Jimi Hendrix’s influential performance of The Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock; and Cook and Moore’s comedy sketch Pete and Dud at the Zoo!

Of course, such things are subjective and you are under no obligation to agree with me! We all have our individual opinions and tastes, after all. However, my selections will most usually be tried and trusted gems of high artistic quality that are widely admired or acknowledged. Join me in my “occasional glimpses of the sublime”, and see if you agree…

Occasional Glimpses of the Sublime

Canteloube’s Baïlèro, sung by Victoria de los Ángeles (1969)

Occasional Glimpses of the Sublime

Commentaries on excellence in art, music, film, and literature