{"id":57384,"date":"2018-12-06T11:48:23","date_gmt":"2018-12-06T16:48:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/?p=57384"},"modified":"2018-12-06T11:49:35","modified_gmt":"2018-12-06T16:49:35","slug":"playlist-a-deep-cuts-classical-listening-list-for-those-tired-of-christmas-carols","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/2018\/12\/06\/playlist-a-deep-cuts-classical-listening-list-for-those-tired-of-christmas-carols\/","title":{"rendered":"PLAYLIST | A Deep Cuts Classical Listening List For Those Tired Of Christmas Carols"},"content":{"rendered":"<figure id=\"attachment_57391\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-57391\" style=\"width: 1024px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"wp-image-57391 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2018\/12\/Classical-christmas-playlist.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"536\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2018\/12\/Classical-christmas-playlist.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2018\/12\/Classical-christmas-playlist-300x157.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2018\/12\/Classical-christmas-playlist-768x402.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-57391\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Eleven selections for those solitary moments, where one may peer into the heart of the winter, along with its icy beauty.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>The end of the year can be such a funk.\u00a0 Even with the blinding flash of Christmas lights, constant chatter and boisterous squeals over the blaring pop carols that overfill our brains, the truth of the winter cannot be denied: it is the time of solitude and reflection.\u00a0 After all, nothing burns like the cold.<\/p>\n<p>The long, dark winter nights have fascinated people through the centuries, and even in the bustle of the holidays, we may feel that sharp fang of winter in our hearts.\u00a0 It is perhaps the most complex of the four seasons, and definitely the darkest.<\/p>\n<p>Here are a few selections for those solitary moments, where one may peer into the heart of the winter, along with its icy beauty. It can be unforgiving, unrelenting and ruthless, burying all in extreme dark and blinding blizzard: \u201cthe gaunt limbs, and stark, rigid, death-like whiteness of winter.\u201d<\/p>\n<h3>1. Valse Triste, Op. 44, No.1, Jean Sibelius<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/9t0FBQ3xeVA?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Sibelius wrote a few incidental music pieces for the 1903 production of <em>Kuolema<\/em> (Death), a play by his brother-in-law, Arvid J\u00e4rnefelt.\u00a0\u00a0 It quickly became a signature Sibelius piece, as it brought much melancholy and sense of irreversible loss, all within a mere five minutes.\u00a0 This particular performance is quite dry, and without the usual sugar icing of rich rubato and schmaltz, the wistful twist of the scene pierces like a dagger:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>\u201cIt is night. The son, who has been watching beside the bedside of his sick mother, has fallen asleep from sheer weariness, gradually a ruddy light is diffused through the room: there is a sound of distant music: the glow and the music steal nearer until the strains of a valse melody float distantly to our ears. The sleeping mother awakens, rises from her bed and, in her long white garment, which takes the semblance of a ball dress, begins to move silently and slowly to and fro. She waves her hands and beckons in time to the music, as though she were summoning a crowd of invisible guests. And now they appear, these strange visionary couples, turning and gliding to an unearthly valse rhythm. The dying woman mingles with the dancers; she strives to make them look into her eyes, but the shadowy guests one and all avoid her glance. Then she seems to sink exhausted on her bed, and the music breaks off. Presently she gathers all her strength and invokes the dance once more, with more energetic gestures than before. Back come the shadowy dancers, gyrating in a wild, mad rhythm. The weird gaiety reaches a climax; there is a knock at the door, which flies wide open; the mother utters a despairing cry; the spectral guests vanish; the music dies away. Death stands on the threshold.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>2. \u201cDer Leiermann\u201d, <em>Winterreise<\/em>, D. 911, Franz Schubert<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/pze4NxCOjg0?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>In <em>Winterreise<\/em>, the stranger is making his journey out of the village.\u00a0 He once found beautiful spring and love here, but now he walks away empty-handed, out into the cold, lonely unknown.\u00a0\u00a0 In \u201cIm Dorfe,\u201d he glances into the house where people sweetly dream on their lovely pillows; yet, as the dogs bark and their chains rattle, he who is no longer dreaming, is compelled to leave.<br \/>\nThe last person he sees on his way out is the hurdy-gurdy man, \u201dDer Leiermann.\u201d The old man stands there, with frozen fingers.\u00a0 No one listens, hounds snarl at the old man, and the stranger wonders:<\/p>\n<p><em>Curious old fellow, shall I go with you? When I sing my songs, will you play your hurdy-gurdy too?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Here, Thomas Quasthoff delivers one of the most vulnerable, sincere interpretations of <em>Winterreise<\/em>, with Daniel Barenboim at the piano. If you are intrigued, please check out the Ian Bostridge-Julius Drake project with David Alden Directing: Winterreise\/Over the Top with Franz<\/p>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/xAShNLQzyxI?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>3.\u00a0<em>In a Landscape<\/em> (1948), John Cage<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/I2wtmQkvX7A?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>In 1946, Cage met Indian musician Gita Sarabhai, and they exchanged lessons &#8211; him, teaching counterpoint and contemporary music, and her teaching him about Indian music and philosophy. One of the core ideas Sarabhai shared with Cage was a purpose of music: \u201c\u2026 <em>to sober and quiet the mind, thus rendering it susceptible to divine influences<\/em>.\u201d During these eight minutes, Cage instructs the player to sustain both the damper and the sustain pedals together, till the very end: \u00a0<em>\u2018\u2026 play without sounding, release pedals (thus obtaining harmonics)<\/em>.\u2019 In essence, percussive piano becomes one long resonance \u2014 and for years, this shimmering piece has always reminded me of the magical northern lights.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>The sight filled the northern sky; the immensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than the most skilful dancer. \u2014 Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>4. <em>Winter 3<\/em>, <em>Vivaldi Recomposed<\/em> (2012), Max Richter<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/8oYWfJuMGMA?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Vivaldi\u2019s <em>Four Seasons<\/em> is one of the earliest and most successful examples of program music.\u00a0 In 2012, Max Richter released a new take on the <em>Four Seasons<\/em> with Daniel Hope and Andr\u00e9 de Ridder, and his re-composition is convincing and striking in its subtle minimalist transformation from the original.\u00a0 Here\u2019s the end of the album, Winter 3.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><em>Caminar Sopra il giaccio, e \u00e0 passo lento<br \/>\nPer timor di cader girsene intenti;<br \/>\nGir forte Sdruzziolar, cader \u00e0 terra<br \/>\nDi nuove ir Sopra &#8216;l giaccio e correr forte<br \/>\nSin ch&#8217; il giaccio si rompe, e si disserra;<br \/>\nSentir uscir dalle ferrate porte<br \/>\nSirocco, Borea, e tutti i Venti in guerra<br \/>\nQuest&#8217; \u00e9 &#8216;l verno, m\u00e0 tal, che gioja apporte<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>We tread the icy path slowly and cautiously,<br \/>\nfor fear of tripping and falling.<br \/>\nThen turn abruptly, slip, crash on the ground and,<br \/>\nrising, hasten on across the ice lest it cracks up.<br \/>\nWe feel the chill north winds course through the home<br \/>\ndespite the locked and bolted doors&#8230;<br \/>\nthis is winter, which nonetheless<br \/>\nbrings its own delights.<\/em>\u00a0<em><br \/>\n<\/em>\u2014 Accompanying Sonnet for Allegro from Vivaldi\u2019s <em>Four Seasons: Winter<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>5. <em>G Song<\/em> (1985), Terry Riley<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Qg6bctbrpiU?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Terry Riley and the Kronos Quartet have a long-standing relationship, and this particular work was the very first work Riley wrote for them.\u00a0 Written with Riley\u2019s keen ears for purity of sound and awareness of resonance in string instruments (especially noticeable on the <em>Cadenza of the Night Plain<\/em>, which became the title for the first all-Riley recording for Kronos, released in 1985), the quartet pulses and sings, with such openness and sincerity, like the silent cold winter morning, after a night of white blizzard, where everything has been covered, the air speckled with floating snow dust.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>6. Sonata for Solo Cello (1948\/1953), Gy\u00f6rgy Ligeti<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/kYLuAe-AUNQ?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>The first part, <em>Dialogo<\/em>, was written for a fellow student at Ligeti\u2019s school. The recipient, Annuss Vir\u00e1ny, was unaware of Ligeti\u2019s feelings, didn\u2019t think much of it, and it was left to dust, unplayed, till Ligeti added the <em>Capriccio<\/em> movement for another cellist, Vera D\u00e9nes, a few years later. Unfortunately, the Hungarian Composers\u2019 Union deemed the work unfit to publish, as it was \u2018too modern,\u2019 so it wasn&#8217;t performed again till 1979.\u00a0 Since then, it quickly became a standard, and the emotional and technical challenge of the work has drawn many listeners into its haunting, dark world.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><em>\u2026 some winters<\/em><br \/>\n<em>will never melt<\/em><br \/>\n<em>some summers<\/em><br \/>\n<em>will never freeze<\/em><br \/>\n<em>and some things will only<\/em><br \/>\n<em>\u2026 live in poems<\/em><br \/>\n<em>\u2014 Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>7. \u201cSleep,\u201d from <em>Five Elizabethan Songs<\/em> (1913-14), Ivor Gurney<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/UwMz0nAYVmg?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Winter, in its silent yet restorative way, is often compared to sleep.\u00a0 And in the deep of the night, often, we are left to our own voices and thoughts, and the sleep, elusively, stays just a touch away.\u00a0 Could it be sorrow? A flee, a retreat?\u00a0 One tosses back and forth in bed, in search of peace as the night flows. Gurney sets John Fletcher\u2019s text masterfully, the yearning for quiet, with a heartfelt plea.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><em>\u2026We that suffer long annoy<\/em><br \/>\n<em>Are contented with a thought<\/em><br \/>\n<em>Through an idle fancy wrought:<\/em><br \/>\n<em>O let my joys have some abiding!<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>8.\u00a0 Allegro ma non troppo (1998), Unsuk Chin<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/f0GJiLo_xoo?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Sometimes when the light changes, even a familiar place can feel so different. The winter light differs from the summer light, and the absence of light in the long dark winter night can bring out many thoughts that may have been kept quiet, because they are unusual, demanding and difficult.<\/p>\n<p>Unsuk Chin, current darling of international contemporary classical music, wrote &#8216;Allegro ma non troppo&#8217; in the winter of 1993-94.\u00a0 The first version was an electroacoustic piece (1994), then the second extended version was presented in 1998.\u00a0 All the sound sources are things that were once familiar, such as a piece of paper, alarm clocks, grains of rice, etc. However, these things are transformed into a new reality.\u00a0 It\u2019s a rather magical, if haunting way to look into one\u2019s own world, in a different light \u2014 perhaps, no light.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>9. <em>Let Me Die Before I Wake<\/em> for Clarinet (1982) Salvatore Sciarrino<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/vdwU99lTVSg?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>One topic that is forever associated with winter is Death.\u00a0 We are horrified, scared and terrorized by the idea of death, and the particular topic of euthanasia has always been controversial.\u00a0 Written a year after Derek Humphry\u2019s book <a href=\"https:\/\/www.goodreads.com\/book\/show\/1177136.Let_Me_Die_Before_I_Wake\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">of euthanasia case studies<\/a> (from which Sciarrino took the piece\u2019s title), the piece explores the thin last minutes of the body before dying.\u00a0 The elusive and flickering sound of the clarinet is haunting yet gentle, as if there is nothing to be afraid of. It\u2019s a gentle, beautiful breath into the silence. Perhaps, just like the dusk into the longest night of the year on the winter solstice.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>\u201c\u2026C\u2019est ce qui \u00e9merge d\u2019une polyphonie qui se liqu\u00e9fie, au moment o\u00f9 les transparences affinent la perception, et que l\u2019\u00e9clat des reflets l\u2019ext\u00e9nue \u2014 myst\u00e9rieux liens avec les t\u00e9n\u00e8bres \u2013 en distille chaque fragment de lumi\u00e8re. L\u2019approche de la nuit, les moments de mar\u00e9e de la conscience sont les plus f\u00e9conds pour la pens\u00e9e. Ils ont l\u2019\u00e9vidence immat\u00e9rielle d\u2019une ligne, la br\u00fblante clart\u00e9 de l\u2019horizon \u2014 pr\u00e8s de ces fronti\u00e8res alors, des rappels qui \u00e9loignent \u2014 le grouillement des \u00e9chos de la pens\u00e9e. Une mouche parcourt les bords du miroir : c\u2019est un ornement sur l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9.\u201c<br \/>\n\u2014 Sciarrino, from Klangforum Wien Program Notes, 22 September 2018<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>10.\u00a0 <em>Praise to the eternity of Jesus<\/em>, from <em>Quartet for the End of Time<\/em>, Olivier Messiaen<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/e3ZFE86QShA?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Once death happens, does time happen? Messiaen wrote this while serving time as a prisoner-of-war in Zgorzelec, Poland.\u00a0 Its premiere was in the rain, outside (Zgorzelec\u2019s average temperature in January hovers around 0\u00b0C \u2014 it is the coldest month of the year for them), and instead of the Christmas glory and glitz, here, Jesus is a different figure, a figure encompassing eternity:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>Jesus is considered here as the Word. A broad phrase, &#8220;infinitely slow&#8221;, on the cello, magnifies with love and reverence the eternity of the Word, powerful and gentle, &#8220;whose time never runs out&#8221;. The melody stretches majestically into a kind of gentle, regal distance. &#8220;In the beginning was the Word, and Word was with God, and the Word was God.&#8221; \u2014 John 1:1, King James Version,\u00a0 Messiaen.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>11. \u201cDer Abschied,\u201d <em>Das Lied von der Erde<\/em>, Gustav Mahler<\/h3>\n<div class=\"jetpack-video-wrapper\"><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Q_bwuSK7U34?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=en-US&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/div>\n<p>Consolation. Disintegration. Silence. Initiation. A funeral and ascension.<\/p>\n<p>After the tragic year of 1907,\u00a0 he lost his daughter Maria, and having been diagnosed with the heart condition that would kill him four years later, Mahler left for New York to conduct at the Metropolitan Opera. When he came back for the summer in 1908, he wasn\u2019t able to compose \u2014 but he found a collection of Chinese poems translated by Hans Bethge. And slowly, he started to write songs, which eventually became <em>Das Lied von der Erde<\/em>, his penultimate opus.<\/p>\n<p>In this last movement, he clears the table with tamtam and harp. And this heartbreaking mixture of callings, funeral march, and the last text, <em>Ewig<\/em>\u00a0[<em>Forever<\/em>], all added to the Chinese poem finally releases&#8230; What is being released, and where does it go? The listener will rip out one\u2019s own answer from the heart, but the poignancy of this golden glory always touches the centre of this very heart.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><em>\u2026Ich <\/em>werde niemals<em> in die Ferne <\/em>schweifen<em>.<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Still ist mein Herz und harret seiner Stunde!<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Die liebe Erde all\u00fcberall bl\u00fcht auf im Lenz und gr\u00fcnt<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Aufs neu! All\u00fcberall und ewig blauen licht die Fernen!<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Ewig&#8230; <\/em>ewig<em>&#8230;<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>\u2026Still is my heart, awaiting its hour.<\/em><br \/>\n<em> The dear earth everywhere blossoms in spring and grows green<\/em><br \/>\n<em> anew! Everywhere and forever blue is the horizon!<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Forever &#8230; Forever &#8230;<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>++++<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/embed\/user\/12165415597\/playlist\/6S70gsWsp46q3ts0vdp8vm\" width=\"300\" height=\"380\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Eleven selections for those solitary moments, where one may peer into the heart of the winter, along with its icy beauty.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":62,"featured_media":57391,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[14761,5722,9498],"tags":[6560,19602],"yst_prominent_words":[24997,24999,24998,24993,20890,25014,25011,7438,25013,24994,24995,6616,25010,25009,25007,25012,24996,15660,25001,25008],"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2018\/12\/Classical-christmas-playlist.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9bakr-eVy","amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57384"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/62"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=57384"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57384\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":57396,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57384\/revisions\/57396"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/57391"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=57384"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=57384"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=57384"},{"taxonomy":"yst_prominent_words","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ludwig-van.com\/toronto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/yst_prominent_words?post=57384"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}