Music of the Day, 22 December 2023

night unfurls its splendor

In catching up on my social media today, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there are at least two other people¹ who share my framing of the winter solstice:

I’m mostly kidding about those numbers; I know a lot of people like fall and winter. But we seem to be a minority—and I don’t know of many Americans who are as into the cold and dark as I have been for almost as long as I can remember. Ohio winters in my childhood were good; wintry Wisconsin was even better.

Adjusting to winter in northwestern Washington was a bit rough because it was much more rainy than snowy, but my kids and I embraced the long, dark nights after that first year. When a day can shorten or lengthen by minutes, the shift over just a week is noticeable to nearly everyone who looks out a window regularly. My kids and I observed it happily, taking evening walks around the old part of town where we lived and enjoying both the dark and the chill edge to the air.

I know that this is an atypical view: everything else I saw related to the solstice celebrated “the return of the light.” We three have joked that we should celebrate the summer solstice as “the return of the dark,” but we never feel like celebrating much of anything in mid June, as we know the blast of New Mexico heat is just getting started.

Many people who have never taken a psychology course of any sort know about seasonal affective disorder (SAD)—but what most people don’t know about SAD is that it isn’t limited to winter. Some individuals have what’s called “summer SAD”; they can start feeling anxious and/or depressed as the days get longer. There are far fewer people with summer SAD than winter SAD symptoms, but neither is well understood at present. I’m not saying I think I have summer SAD…² just that a clinical psychologist would probably want to work me up for it if I were to see one at the height of summer.

Today has been a rare gray day, with heavy clouds starting to move in early this afternoon. Sunset is over an hour away still, yet it’s gotten dark enough already that I’ve turned on the lights … and as I did, a song from one of the few musical shows I’ve seen in person came to mind.

There are apparently a few lyrical versions of “The Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera, including some that are titled “Music of the Night”; and of course there are many performances. I’ve seen at least one movie version too, along with several performances of the song on YouTube. For me, this version by Michael Crawford is canonical. He simply brings it all: the softness, the seduction, the creepiness, the desire to control—with just his gorgeous voice. The costume and set, and his movements amplify the feelings he conveys via the music.

I was newly single when I saw Phantom of the Opera in Cincinnati with a friend. It was a beautiful performance, and some of it hit a little too close to home for me; more than a few tears were shed.³ If I kept a program, it’s long gone from my collection of mementos, so I don’t know who was in the cast. Remembering that lovely evening is enough. Hearing Crawford’s tender, menacing performance whenever I want to online is a special bonus.

1. The creator of the meme and the person who posted it. My kids agree too

2. That isn’t my area of training/expertise

3. By both of us, which was a bit of a surprise