Music, Art, and History for New Year's Eve
Haud Hogmanay and Happy New Year from BASTIAT'S WINDOW
To all subscribers, followers, and occasional readers:
Thanks for your encouragement, enthusiasm, and interaction throughout 2024. Some heavy-duty essays will come your way shortly, but for New Year’s Eve, here are three fashionably late stocking-stuffers:
“AULD LANG SYNE.” I performed the English-speaking world’s New Year’s theme as a waltz, with instrumentation as one might hear at a Scottish cèilidh. My wife’s accompanying painting shows our hometown of Alexandria, Virginia—founded by Scottish merchants a few years before Robbie Burns wrote “Auld Lang Syne.”
“WE GATHER TOGETHER”/“WILT HEDEN NU TREDEN.” I perform America’s Thanksgiving anthem as a contrapuntal jazz work for piano and violin. My wife’s painting shows windmills we visited in the Netherlands. In the late 16th century, Catholic colonial rulers in the Spanish Netherlands prohibited Protestants from gathering for worship. In 1597, a military victory by the Dutch in their war against Spain restored freedom of religion over part of the realm. “Wilt Heden Nu Treden” celebrated that victory and freedom.
“2025 INAUGURAL SÉANCE!!! … … FAKE ART NEWS! 47 BRAND-NEW PORTRAITS BY 47 LONG-GONE ARTISTS!” My wife and I used Grok (X’s A.I. tool) to create portraits of all 47 presidents, each in the style of a deceased artist: Jefferson by Warhol, Carter by Rembrandt, Wilson by Munch, Trump (first term) by Klimt, etc. Later in January, we’ll publish an article showing closeups of the portraits and explaining how we matched each president with each artist. (Please forward this post to friends who are interested in presidential history, art history, or both!)
Though my wife and I have not a drop of Scottish blood between us, we wish all of you the sincerest Haud Hogmanay and a wonderful 2025.
NOTE: I always recommend listening to the recordings through good headphones or external speaker.
Had Hogmanay to you, too! A friend used to throw a great one, as her house had plenty of space for sleeping bags and incredibly soft carpeting. She and I used to have all the haggis to ourselves until people figured out we weren’t trying to fake them into eating it but actually enjoyed it.
This afternoon, I joined the San Francisco St. Andrew’s Society in toasting the new year on BST. Mmm, Stilton with port drizzle, mmm.
I was happily eating chicken livers when one of my dinner companions -- who had spent an academic year or two in Scotland -- made a snide remark about my choice of entree. Told him I wouldn't take criticism from someone who had eaten haggis. Since I found out more recently that one of my great grandparents came from Caithness I've acquired a taste for single malt Scotch, and hope to try haggis someday....