Epiphany

epiphany

[ɪˈpɪf(ə)ni, ɛˈpɪf(ə)ni]

NOUN

1.      the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).

·        the festival commemorating the Epiphany on 6 January.

·        a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.

2.      a moment of sudden and great revelation or realization.

Smee: I’ve had an apostrophe!

Captain Hook: I think you mean epiphany…

(Bob Hoskins, Smee, Dustin Hoffman, Captain Hook, in the Robin Williams film ‘Hook’)

The Three Wise Men, or The Magi are so central to the Christmas Story that it is easy to forget they were not actually in the stable on the night of Christ’s birth, but turned up sometime after the event. Epiphany, the revealing of Christ to the Magi, is celebrated on 6th January, but some commentators think they arrived as much as year, or even two, after the birth. This rather takes away the magic of the thing so, let us assume they saw Jesus twelve days after his birth, bearing their portentous gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The Magi are traditionally named as Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar; they represent power and wisdom but also multi ethnicity. Christ is worshipped by the whole world. They have also inspired many writers, artists and composers, sometimes in ways that are unexpected.

To start with probably the most famous Magi poem: T.S. Eliot’s 'Journey of the Magi’. This is so familiar from Carol Service readings that there is a danger its disturbing message will be ignored. After the brilliantly described journey, its hardships and pleasures, the Magi find the Christ child – ‘it was (you might say) satisfactory’ is the enigmatic comment of the narrating Mage, but what comes next makes us more uneasy:

All this was a long time ago, I remember,

And I would do it again, but set down

This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different; this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.

Christ’s Crucifixion is anticipated, even desired.

Far more comforting and celebratory is Peter Cornelius’ rightly celebrated song ‘Die Konige’ – ‘The Three Kings’. This was originally one of six Christmas songs by Cornelius, and while it is the most famous and the best, the others are well worth hearing; Hermann Prey’s version is excellent and there is also a rare opportunity to hear Cornelius’ ‘Vaterunser’ (Our Father), and two more familiar Morike settings, but for English speakers ‘The Three Kings’ is synonymous with Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College Cambridge and there are several beautiful versions from which to choose. In a clear case of nepotism, I’d like to recommend the version with my son, Hugo Herman-Wilson, as baritone soloist (King’s College Cambridge, Nine Lessons and Carols 2014 – it’s on YouTube).

Another favourite is Menotti’s opera ‘Amahl and the Night Visitors’. Here the Christ child is off stage throughout, and the focus is on Amahl, a boy with a deformed leg who can only walk with the aid of a crutch. Amahl and his mother are visited by the Three Wise Men on their way to Christ’s stable. They rest with them for the night, and, while they are sleeping, Amahl’s mother attempts to steal the gold they carry, but she is discovered by the Kings’ Page who attacks her verbally and physically. Impressed by Amahl’s vehement defence of his mother, King Melchior says she can keep the gold, as the king they are visiting has no need of earthly wealth. Amahl’s mother wants to give this great king a gift but they have nothing, as they are so poor. Amahl says he will give his crutch as a gift and as he says this, his leg is miraculously healed, so he is able to go with the Kings to present the gift himself. The absence of a crutch from any paintings of the Nativity does not make this story any less moving…

Another unusual and poignant use of the Three Kings is found in O’Henry’s short story, ‘The Gift of the Magi’. A young couple don’t have enough money to buy special Christmas gifts for each other so they each decide to secretly sell their most treasured possession – with the extra money she buys him a platinum chain for his gold watch and he buys her antique combs for her beautiful hair. When they present the gifts they discover that he has sold his gold watch and she has sold her hair to a wig maker. Amid this ‘cosmic irony’ they have the consolation of having their love for each other reaffirmed. O’Henry does full justice to both the irony and their love:

The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

U.A. Fanthorpe in ‘BC - AD’ is less whimsical, and certainly less reverential as far as the Magi are concerned but, typically, gets to the heart of the matter by deceptively simple means:

This was the moment when

BeforeTurned into After, and the future’s

Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.

This was the moment when nothing

Happened. Only dull peace

Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans

Could find nothing better to do

Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment

When a few farm workers and three

Members of an obscure Persian sect

Walked haphazard by starlight straight

Into the kingdom of heaven.

(‘haphazard by starlight’ is such a wonderful phrase.)

Perhaps the most bizarre treatment of the Magi is found in Hugo Wolf’s setting of Goethe’s poem ‘Epiphanias’. The Magi are a motley trio, singularly lacking in gravitas. They like eating and drinking but prefer not to pay for what they consume. They don't seem too conscious of their crucial role in the Christmas story. They are three, but plus one then they'd be four, and so what? The white one is handsome but longer attracts women (why is not made clear); the brown one is far more confident, as is indicated by his top B flat (a note which causes some singers to perform the lied in a lower transposition), and the little black one (the term is Goethe’s not mine) seems rather sad but enjoys saying thank you as well as eating and drinking. In any event they are in the wrong place, there are fine squires and ladies but no asses and oxen, and so they must continue their search.

Wolf's music is jaunty but has an underlying sense of seriousness, with constant modulation suggesting the Kings’ lack of stability and purpose. The piano postlude arguably demonstrates a degree of tipsiness in their gait as the Kings depart. Goethe did not approve of organised religion so perhaps this is the reason he pokes fun at this aspect of the Christmas story, but he may also be satirising aspects of the behaviour of members of the court of Weimar, where he was based for most of his working life. Wolf is certainly an equal partner in this brilliant song - his satirical gifts all the more surprising when compared with his sublime settings of some of Morike’s religious poetry, notably ‘Schlafendes Jesuskind’ (exquisitely sung by Prey on the disc mentioned above).

For this update on 20.01.2024 I am happy to acknowledge my debt to Richard Stokes and his magisterial 'The Complete Songs of Hugo Wolf - Life, Letters, Lieder' - he confirms that Goethe's satire was directed against actions by members of the Weimar Court, specifically the banning of processions for Epiphany and other religious celebrations.

There are many fine performances of ‘Epiphanias’ available, those by Wolfgang Holzmair/Thomas Palm, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau/Daniel Barenboim and, previously unknown to me, Helen Watts/Geoffrey Parsons stand out. Watts is superb; she is underrated nowadays, but was a sterling artiste. I must update my Post, ‘I’ve got a little list…’  to include her!! Elisabeth Schwarzkopf recorded the song twice – I am not a great fan of either version, but the one accompanied by Furtwangler is to be preferred, particularly if you are into ‘camp’. Heinrich Schlusnus and Gerhard Husch, two great German baritones BDF-D (Before Dietrich Fischer Dieskau) offer well sung, mainly straightforward accounts, adding additional colour and food for thought by taking the high B flat in falsetto. These are both persuasive readings lacking the interventionist approach of their great successor. Using four singers might seem like a good idea (after all, the song was first performed by the three daughters of Wolf’s mistress Melanie Kochert) and Flur Wyn, Rowan Hillier, Adrian Thompson and Roderick Williams (acc. Sholto Kynoch) sing well (Williams contribution is particularly beautiful – you see, I can see the fine qualities in him…) but they encourage each other to overact vocally and the whole is unconvincing.

To finish, let us return to the stable on Christmas Eve and someone who was absent. I leave the final word to U.A. Fanthorpe:

The Sheepdog

After the very bright light,

And the talking bird,And the singing,

And the sky filled up wi' wings,

And then the silence,

Our lads sez

We'd better go, then.

Stay, Shep. Good dog, stay.

So I stayed wi' t' sheep.

After they'd cum back

It sounded grand, what they'd seen.

Camels and kings, and such,

Wi' presents - human sort,

Not the kind you eat -And a baby.

Presents wes for him

Our lads took him a lamb.

I had to stay behind wi' t' sheep.

Pity they didn't tek me along too.

I'm good wi' lambs,

And the baby might have liked a dog

After all that myrrh and such.

With very best wishes for 2024. May all your epiphanies be joyful.