On November 3rd, we had our annual family gathering. In addition, my good friend and I attempted to entertain, flute and piano, followed by Indian food and lively discussions. All had a good time.
This year I decided to do something different. I went to the piano and played a chromatic scale from the lowest A to the next to highest B flat. This comprises 74 individual notes. Why did I do that? I asked. Nobody knew. So I gave a further hint--one nobody would understand, but this gave me an excuse to play a lovely little piece. First I played the melody. Nobody recognized it. Then I sang it in the original German. Then I translated it, and explained why I played it.
It's a beautiful song about aging. Where did all the time go? Soon it's time to depart. It is not at all minor-key Schubertian, but a
major-key folk song. Here is a version of it which I obtained from YouTube. It is sung by the famous Austrian actor Hans Moser and a soprano. No need to listen to the whole thing, although I recommend that you do.
The song occurs near the end of a famous Austrian play, Der Bauer als Millionär, or "The Millionaire Farmer."
A simple, catchy melody from the nineteenth century, seemingly designed to create an Ohrwurm, an ear worm, in the listener. Sentimental? You betcha. It is also very effective, possibly the best song about the sudden realization that one has grown old. In the play, a character named Wurzel has been living a high life for some time. Suddenly Youth (Jealousy and Age, etc, also appear in the play, a baroque-ish Austrian classic, and sings the song. Just before she sings, in some productions at least, a puff of smoke appears and when it fades, we see Wurzel transformed from a youngish man into an old man. This sudden transformation is very effective theater. It might help older folks recall the moment they first realized that the border between youth and age has been inexorably crossed. Where has all the time gone?
I will conflate the several stanzas into one translation:
Hey, Little Guy,
Hey, Little Guy,
Time and you are passing by;
Today brilliantly shines the sun,
Soon, at last, the day is done;
Hey, Little Guy, Hey, little Guy,
It is time to say good-bye.
We all know that entropy is relentless; however, one needs to be old to really feel it.
The point I was trying to make with the chromatic scale is that for the old there are not many notes left, and the ones that are left do not have the power and resonance of those around the middle of the piano. I was trying to impress on all--the majority of us are
seniors--that we have to make music with what remains in our power. It is not impossible, even probable, that we can make happier music with these notes than we did in the past, when the world was too much with us. I've been reading about successful older adults; they make do with what they have, not what they've lost, and are, mostly, happier. My message was therefore not a morbid one; it was a (basically) joyous, albeit realistic one. When you're old, said a ninety-year old woman, you have to make yourself happy. All it takes are visits from Wisdom and Love, who readily respond to our invitations, so much more instructive than the visits of Jealousy and Anger, which appear in the play and continue to plague the young.
That's the message I tried to convey to my older guests. It bombed. After this, I played a few classical pieces on the piano. That bombed as well.
No matter--Life goes on. Happily!
This year I decided to do something different. I went to the piano and played a chromatic scale from the lowest A to the next to highest B flat. This comprises 74 individual notes. Why did I do that? I asked. Nobody knew. So I gave a further hint--one nobody would understand, but this gave me an excuse to play a lovely little piece. First I played the melody. Nobody recognized it. Then I sang it in the original German. Then I translated it, and explained why I played it.
It's a beautiful song about aging. Where did all the time go? Soon it's time to depart. It is not at all minor-key Schubertian, but a
major-key folk song. Here is a version of it which I obtained from YouTube. It is sung by the famous Austrian actor Hans Moser and a soprano. No need to listen to the whole thing, although I recommend that you do.
The song occurs near the end of a famous Austrian play, Der Bauer als Millionär, or "The Millionaire Farmer."
A simple, catchy melody from the nineteenth century, seemingly designed to create an Ohrwurm, an ear worm, in the listener. Sentimental? You betcha. It is also very effective, possibly the best song about the sudden realization that one has grown old. In the play, a character named Wurzel has been living a high life for some time. Suddenly Youth (Jealousy and Age, etc, also appear in the play, a baroque-ish Austrian classic, and sings the song. Just before she sings, in some productions at least, a puff of smoke appears and when it fades, we see Wurzel transformed from a youngish man into an old man. This sudden transformation is very effective theater. It might help older folks recall the moment they first realized that the border between youth and age has been inexorably crossed. Where has all the time gone?
I will conflate the several stanzas into one translation:
Hey, Little Guy,
Hey, Little Guy,
Time and you are passing by;
Today brilliantly shines the sun,
Soon, at last, the day is done;
Hey, Little Guy, Hey, little Guy,
It is time to say good-bye.
We all know that entropy is relentless; however, one needs to be old to really feel it.
The point I was trying to make with the chromatic scale is that for the old there are not many notes left, and the ones that are left do not have the power and resonance of those around the middle of the piano. I was trying to impress on all--the majority of us are
seniors--that we have to make music with what remains in our power. It is not impossible, even probable, that we can make happier music with these notes than we did in the past, when the world was too much with us. I've been reading about successful older adults; they make do with what they have, not what they've lost, and are, mostly, happier. My message was therefore not a morbid one; it was a (basically) joyous, albeit realistic one. When you're old, said a ninety-year old woman, you have to make yourself happy. All it takes are visits from Wisdom and Love, who readily respond to our invitations, so much more instructive than the visits of Jealousy and Anger, which appear in the play and continue to plague the young.
That's the message I tried to convey to my older guests. It bombed. After this, I played a few classical pieces on the piano. That bombed as well.
No matter--Life goes on. Happily!
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