The first thing I did after getting home last night was to go to a performance of A Christmas Celtic Sojourn, an amazing group performance put on by Brian O’Donovan of WGBH up here in Boston. It’s a totally tremendous performance, and I highly recommend making it a stop on your holiday calendar next year, if you’re in the area. But I particularly wanted to pull out this poem, which O’Donovan read towards the end of the show, because it reminds me that, while I spend a lot of time writing about art’s ability to help us work through the worst in human nature, it can also be a light that holds back the darkness. More of that in 2013, I think:
Though There Are Torturersby Michael Coady
Though there are torturers in the worldThere are also musicians.Though, at this moment,Men are screaming in prisons,There are jazzmen raising stormsOf sensuous celebration,And orchestras releasingGlories of the Spirit.
Though the image of GodIs everywhere defiled,A man in West ClareIs playing the concertina,The Sistine Choir is levitatingUnder the dome of St. Peter’s,And a drunk man on the roadIs singing, for no reason.