We've been enjoying a beautiful and much-needed, snow-induced sabbath these last few days. There are at least four inches, and some places, seven inches of snow in our region, plus layers of ice. It's a quiet time and great for eating homemade muffins and drinking coffee.
Last weekend I played two recitals with my good friend Jeremy McEntire at University of Richmond and Randolph Macon. I hadn't played at Randolph Macon before and enjoyed St. Anne's Hall, which is a small timbered church building with a nicely responsive Steinway and a warm acoustic.
One of the works we played was Rachmaninoff's Vocalise. I've played the piece many times with various instruments and voice. I always wonder at its falling lines, especially the long descent at the beginning. This aspect of falling is one of the things about Russian music that has mystified and depressed me by turns.
One of the lectionary passages for the day was Psalm 130 which begins, "Out of the depths I cry to thee, O thou Eternal." As I thought about that reading and Vocalise, I thought of a new way to understand those falling lines. I can hear them not as our sinking down but Christ's coming to be with us in the depths of our human experience. This removes the desolation and replaces it with hope, strength, and empathy.
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