Friday, December 15, 2006


Music imparts such a great portion of the mood in a space. This is even more true during those times of year associated with memories from childhood, like Christmas. Music and candles. The scent of Juniper, snowflakes on eyelashes and patient, courteous drivers. Must be Christmas! Or, drugs.

I have always loved the Brandenburg Concertos (Bach), Vivaldi's entire catalog unless it involves hack flutes with thin sounds, and of course Handel's Messiah. A good friend just this week told me how very much she hates to play the Messiah because OUCH! string players need better physical therapists. As a violist, I love it. I love the way Handel writes string parts, and there's something so satisfyingly Puritan-work-ethical about making it through the whole thing. I like to have it on while I'm cleaning so I can sing all the parts- I do that with (to, really) the Mozart Requiem as well.

Then there's the non-legit stuff.
1. I like the White Album. (Crosby, Bing: Christmas, White) 'Nuff said.

2. That AIDs benefit CD called A Very Special Christmas, with Keith Haring's art on the jacket that was a yearly staple until mine was stolen by a crappy subletter in Baltimore. Who steals a Christmas benefit cd in the middle of the summer? A law student, that's who.

3. In need of no description. The king lives with me.

4. I love the new Sarah McLachlan cd. It came in a set with her live 2-discer and they are on a lot around here. If you visited, you'd think you walked right into Starbucks, I swear. Except everything here's cheaper. And we have a changing table.

While we're talking about Christmassy moods, I would be remiss if I were to fail at mentioning Rudolph et al. Claymation is, in general, very very creepy. HOWEVER! The classics are grandfathered in because familiarity breeds childlike love and sentimental devotion.

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