My dearest, the brand-new year just arrived. Happy 2020! I wish you a year filled with peace and music.

Those who read the post the morning it's published are probably among waltzes and polkas and not totally awake; There's a time for everything, so enjoy with the Strauss family; I'm sure you'll find some minutes to enjoy with the beautiful song that is closing the Christmas posts this year.

A woman about to give birth and her husband go door to door asking for shelter; eventually, the baby is born in a stable. Today, as many families are knocking on our doors, we should be ashamed of ourselves for the ressemblance to this scene from 2000 years ago. This is not a original or modern reflection; tales like Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Match Girl, to name a well-known one, tells us about our incoherence and our bad memory.

I'm not sure how it’s happened, but Christmas is here. And so, it's also time for three shorter posts with three Christmas songs for today, Christmas Day and New Year's Day. This week, the chosen composer is Charles Ives, that gentleman who used to sell insurances during the day and write music at night. Ives stayed away from the classical music establishment, while being really attached to the ordinary life of American people, and both things reflect in his work; he was a free spirit and his music not only wasn't academic, but also extremely original.

As I told you when I talked about Die Götter Griechenlands, Friedrich Schiller shared the love for Ancient Greece that prevailed in German culture in his time, and Gruppe aus dem Tartarus [Group from Tartarus] also refers to mythology. The Underworld, often known by the name of his god, Hades, was the place inhabited by the dead; receiving no punishment or reward. Much deeper, according to Zeus at the Iliad, as far from the Hades as the sky is from the earth, there Tartarus was. And there, its inhabitants suffered the most horrific tortures.

"Take with you Paul Verlaine's Fêtes galantes and this little magical book will return to you, gently, harmoniously and delightfully sad, the ideal and enchanted world of the divine master of love comedies, the great and sublime Watteau, that the 19th century has just rediscovered"

These words are part of a review of April 19, 1869, that the poet Théodore de Banville wrote after the publication of the poetry collection Fêtes galantes, by his friend Paul Verlaine [...]