The End of the World Sounds Like a Sleepy Violin (a selection)
We are slowly coming to the end of a turbulent year. It has given us much to think about and be sad over, but it has also given us another beautiful year of continuation, because of the people who surround us as well as what they continue to create, their words, images, and voices constantly rising up to form pockets of emotion that blankets the landscape. At a certain age I realized that my life felt very much like a cycle. Springtime was when I felt myself blossom and fill with energy and excitement, believing that anything could happen, while winter was always the time when I snuggled up and became small, carefully noting things down and observing in a state of comfortable curiosity and wonder. Snow and the cold are a personal delight, and while the dark winter nights make it difficult to go to lecture at 5 in the afternoon because it’s already dark, at the same time they’re wonderful to experience with a loved one next to you, to enjoy the silence, twinkling lights, and haunting white noise atmosphere that settles in. Yes, winter is an end of sorts. But it is also the time when the cycle resets, for after December comes another January, after winter another spring, and we awaken from a period of stillness into a budding eagerness to stretch and bound forward again.
Nocturnes, and nighttime by association, are magical concepts because they blur this realm of fear and comfort, waking and sleep, into a state of dreaming. I present to you a selection of songs that I have come to associate with this state, in the hope that you too, dear reader, will share the dangerous magic of that moment with me.
"Selenite" – Rurutia
I don’t remember how I came across this song, but once it entered my life it never left. Rurutia is a hardly known artist in the Western world, but her music has a haunting quality to it that remains absent from many popular songs. "Selenite" is the first song I listened to by her and remains my favourite. It sounds like what dipping one's feet into a puddle of moonlight must feel like, or gently wrapping oneself in silk shawls and black lace and sitting on the marble railing of a balcony for no reason other than to enjoy the sky's presence. It’s the only song that has been able to capture the feeling of connection I experience every time I see a full or nearly-full moon, and I feel like if I sing it loud enough then one day the moon will let me into her little kingdom in the sky, sit me at her long table, and tell me all she has seen over the centuries.
"As the World Falls Down" – David Bowie
Among the moments in life when I knew that I had grown up, one was the day when I rewatched Labyrinth and, instead of whispering for Sarah to turn around and run faster, I groaned at the screen, told her that she’s going the wrong way and that she needs to go back to Bowie this instant. The whole scene in the movie, beginning with the crystal bubbles the Goblin King sends to her, was always one of seduction that I didn’t understand or appreciate, and it's only in the last year that I have fully felt its weight and importance in my life. Similarly, Bowie’s song didn’t imprint into my mind and heart for many years, although I fancied myself in such a ballroom scenario since I was a child. The notes of haunting reassurance, like a lover's confidences whispered into your ear, are the only thing I hear now when I listen to "As the World Falls Down", mind spinning with images of an infinitely expanding galaxy tamed and swirling in a glass, tipped towards the lips as the eyes are lost in a loved one's gaze.
"Fly" – Ludovico Einaudi
There are songs that you just naturally associate with nighttime when listening to them - they have that touch of soft danger wrapped under layers of delicate fabric and half-smiles, beckoning you forward on a journey. "Fly" is one such song. When listening to music I find myself inadvertently writing stories in my mind, situating myself in a scene, and in this case I always find myself on a roof overlooking a city as twilight seeps in, the same way that Hollywood movies show restless teenagers looking over Los Angeles from the hills. I personally seem to situate myself in Rio de Janeiro, mainly for personal reasons but also due to the way this song reminds me of a continuous string of lights similar to the ones at Copacabana, like a necklace adorning the neck of land as she is covered in soft, wet kisses by her love. It is a song that is a gentler call for rebellion, or at least the last drop of adrenaline needed for the wanderlust to take over, for one to set off roaming through the streets in a frenzy of light and shadow, sound and silence, each in constant balance with the other.
"Enjoy the Silence" – Depeche Mode
Context is incredibly important in influencing how one listens to a song, imprinting a permanent association that arises with every subsequent listen. For me, "Enjoy the Silence" has become synonymous with Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, where I travelled two years ago when autumn was slowly metamorphosing into winter, like a hesitant creature trying out its new legs. It’s a nocturne that hangs on the edge of becoming something more, of transitioning into an allegro or fortissimo but never quite making that leap of faith. In a sense it was my awakening song, where I was reminded not only of the allure nighttime possesses but also the reason why women and night are constantly compared, the image of sleek darkness used as a compliment. And if the atmosphere isn’t compelling enough, the lyrics say everything on their own. They create the impression of soft silence even as they fill the air with sound, popping and lingering, creating a floating shower of particles you can almost arrange before you into a mobile of syllables. It’s a song that makes me want to go lurking every time I hear it, to get lost in an old city and the inner sense of peace that arises there.
"Fairy Dance" – James Newton Howard
It’s safe to say that most of us have had a crush on Jeremy Sumpter, who has, in my opinion at least, played the most attractive Peter Pan we’ll possibly ever have. It’s also why the feelings of affection Wendy begins to develop for him in the film are difficult for the viewer to dismiss, especially after such a whimsical scene as the nighttime forest dance. "Fairy Dance" is a duality of lullaby with the fragile moment of waking, or at least feeling consciousness creep around the edges of a dream. The song’s transitions mimic this process, as it gets darker and more urgent towards the end. In a way, it captures the very essence of growing up, the desire to constantly be flying and twirling like Wendy and have a Peter right next to you, who will scoop you up with a smile if you fall. But the fall doesn’t happen as elegantly in real life, nor is it always physical. "Fairy Dance" is a song that belongs in the woods, in the middle of summer, with something fantastical around the corner that you cannot wait to get to, stepping over branches and parting ferns in endless anticipation. It takes away the fear associated with nighttime and the unsettling feeling of nocturnes, for it is only in the dark that we discover something as mesmerizing as magic and the first stirrings of love.
"The Circus" – Craig Armstrong
Although the 2015 movie Frankenstein wasn’t a great success, it had one bright and memorable moment that I've never been able to get out of my head: the opening circus scene, where Igor watches the trapeze artist he loves performing her tricks. It’s a cinematic wonder, overlaying anatomical sketches of muscles and bones simultaneously as she performs. More importantly, it evokes the feeling of smoke and mirrors without them actually being there, taking Bowie’s feeling of a chase and turning it into a more drawn-out seduction. The grime and danger of London is present, watching the elegance of the tinkling notes as they somersault in the air under the safety of the big-top, pushing back the flaps of the tent to get a better look. Stars belong in this song like nowhere else, and every time a note escapes from the xylophone it joins its siblings in stringing together a new constellation that keeps growing and pulsing. One can feel the change through the centuries in the song, like a sped-up timeline racing past the eyes. What doesn’t change is the sense of captivation, the figure that appears throughout time and never fails to stop one in one's tracks by offering a touch of gentleness and curiosity that is impossible to deny.
By this point you have probably found yourself wandering through a mixed state of fantasy and reality, speeding up only to slow back down again. That is what December, and endings in general, are very much like. They are as much a slowing down as they are a speeding up towards a new beginning, just as nocturnes are a gateway to the allegros and fortissimos to come. Think of this as a time to recharge before the curtains draw once again with you in center stage, with all the glittering lights and decorations there only to emphasize your presence.