I was once asked by a student if there were any operas in Esperanto. While there are no full-fledged operas originally in Esperanto, Antonín Dvořák’s opera Rusalka (1901) was mostly translated and performed back in 1953. Above is the opera. It has some nice moments.
Studento unufoje demandis al mi ĉu estas iuj operoj Esperantaj. Kvankam ne estas plenformaj operoj originale en Esperanto, la opero de Antonín Dvořák, Rusalka (1901), estis plejparte tradukita kaj prezentita en 1953. La supra filmo estas la opero. Ĝi havas bonajn momentojn.
This is a reharmonization of the Old Hundredth Doxology, made by an old friend who used to sit beside me in my church’s choir. The harmonies here are quite crunchy and fun. James Albert wrote several small tunes for organ, many of which were played (and one of which I sang) at his funeral back in 2009. Interesting fellow.
Every now and again, my choir director would enforce home learning by testing choristers in quartets. That is, if you hadn’t learned your part, the entire choir would hear it while you sang one on a part without piano accompaniment. The following is such an instance.
We were singing “Up! Good Christen Folk and Listen,” which is here:
Here’s one of the quartets that gave verse three a try:
And here is my transcription of the first phrase.The people in this quartet remain anonymous, but moments like these are some of the benefits of recording all choir rehearsals, as I used to do in undergrad. Good times.
There would be no art, and there would be no science, if human beings had no desire to create. And if we had everything we ever needed or wanted, we would have no reason for creating anything. So, at the root of all art and all science there exists a gap—a gap between what the world is like and what we wish and hope for it to be like. Our unique way of bridging that gap in each of our lives seems to me to be the essence of the reason for human creativity.