christmas with kinnara
In this season of shortening days and lengthening nights, we gather to listen. We turn to words and melodies that have traveled across centuries, cultures, and traditions. Christmas with Kinnara is not a retelling of a single story. It is an invitation into the human experience that surrounds this time of year: the hush of winter, the surprise of light, the quiet work of wonder.
Tonight’s program moves through four meditative spaces. We begin in Mystery, where ancient texts and modern voices lean toward the unexplainable and the moment when stillness seems to open into something larger than ourselves. From there we move into Witness, which reflects the humility and tenderness of those who learn simply by looking and listening. Journey reminds us that we are seekers who are guided by glimmers of hope, intuition, and dawning light. And in Joy, we arrive at a place of openness and renewal. This final space offers a generous vision of what it means to live with courage and wholeheartedness.
The readings, drawn from Rumi, the Ute people, David Wagoner, and Rabindranath Tagore, follow these themes alongside the music. Together they offer four distinct ways of encountering the season: contemplative, attentive, searching, and finally, expansive.
May this evening invite you into stillness and warmth, into curiosity and brightness, and into a deeper sense of the light that persists even in the quietest winter night.
prologue
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I conquer the world with words, conquer the mother tongue, verbs, nouns, syntax. I sweep away the beginning of things and with a new language that has the music of water the message of fire I light the coming age and stop time in your eyes and wipe away the line that separates time from this single moment.
–Text: Nizar Qabbani, Syria
part I: Mystery
This opening set rests in the profound stillness at the heart of winter. Poulenc’s O Magnum Mysterium opens with haunting serenity, inviting us into a sound world shaped by luminous awe. Judith Weir’s Drop Down Ye Heavens from Above lifts that stillness into longing, stretching toward the hope of breakthrough. Pärt’s Magnificat follows with crystalline simplicity, suspended in timeless, inward focus. The set concludes with Willcocks’s arrangement of Gabriel’s Message, which brings a warm and familiar glow into the unfolding mystery.Rumi’s poem “The Guest House” frames this entire set as an invitation to openness. Mystery becomes not something to resolve, but something to welcome with curiosity and tenderness.
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Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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Heyr þú oss himnum á, heyr oss Guð, hýr vor faðir, börn þín smá,
Lukku oss þar til ljá líf eilíft þér erfum hjá, Og að þér aldrei flæmumst frá.
Þitt ríki þróist hér Það þín stjórn og kristni er,
Svo að menn sem flestir safnist Guð til handa þér,
Fegnir yfir því fögnum vér.
Síst skarta sönglist má, sé þar ekki elskan hjá.
Syngjum því lof þá, þér himnum á maður rétt kristinn mun þess gá,
En þegar aumir vér öndumst burt úr heimi hér.
Oss tak þá Guð að þér, þá dýrð sem aldrei þver
Amen, amen, það eflaust sker.Hear us in heaven, O God above, Father of mercy, gentle and near,
Shelter your children in eternal love.
Let your kingdom bloom in this land,
Your reign of peace, your guiding hand.
Gather the many with joy anew—we sing,
but love must carry us through.
Let praises rise to heaven’s height, the faithful know this holy light,
Though we depart in mortal night.
Then take us home beyond the skies, to glory where no shadow lies.
Amen, amen—let this hope rise.–Text: Ólafur á Söndum, Iceland
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There is sweet music here that softer falls
than petals from blown roses on the grass,
or night-dews on still waters between walls
of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass.Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
than tir’d eyelids upon tirèd eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep
down from the blissful skies.Here are cool mosses deep,
and thro’ the moss the ivies creep,
and in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
and from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.–Text: Alfred, Lord Tennyson, United Kingdom
part II: witness
This set turns our attention outward toward quiet observation and humility. Poulenc’s Quem vidistis pastores dicite opens with the sense of a question carried into the still air, followed by Bob Chilcott’s The Shepherds’ Carol, which offers a gentle, human glimpse of wonder. Eleanor Whitsett’s Where Shepherds Lately Knelt continues this reflective perspective with warmth and sincerity, and Willcocks’s See Amid the Winter’s Snow brings the set into the familiar cadence of communal song, shaded with tenderness. The Ute prayer “Earth Teach Me Quiet” places this witness in the context of creation itself. Its lines ask the natural world to teach humility, courage, renewal, and acceptance. Here, witnessing becomes a posture of listening deeply to the world as it is.
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Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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Heyr þú oss himnum á, heyr oss Guð, hýr vor faðir, börn þín smá,
Lukku oss þar til ljá líf eilíft þér erfum hjá, Og að þér aldrei flæmumst frá.
Þitt ríki þróist hér Það þín stjórn og kristni er,
Svo að menn sem flestir safnist Guð til handa þér,
Fegnir yfir því fögnum vér.
Síst skarta sönglist má, sé þar ekki elskan hjá.
Syngjum því lof þá, þér himnum á maður rétt kristinn mun þess gá,
En þegar aumir vér öndumst burt úr heimi hér.
Oss tak þá Guð að þér, þá dýrð sem aldrei þver
Amen, amen, það eflaust sker.Hear us in heaven, O God above, Father of mercy, gentle and near,
Shelter your children in eternal love.
Let your kingdom bloom in this land,
Your reign of peace, your guiding hand.
Gather the many with joy anew—we sing,
but love must carry us through.
Let praises rise to heaven’s height, the faithful know this holy light,
Though we depart in mortal night.
Then take us home beyond the skies, to glory where no shadow lies.
Amen, amen—let this hope rise.–Text: Ólafur á Söndum, Iceland
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There is sweet music here that softer falls
than petals from blown roses on the grass,
or night-dews on still waters between walls
of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass.Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
than tir’d eyelids upon tirèd eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep
down from the blissful skies.Here are cool mosses deep,
and thro’ the moss the ivies creep,
and in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
and from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.–Text: Alfred, Lord Tennyson, United Kingdom
III. journey
The third set shifts into motion, charting a path from darkness toward dawning light. Poulenc’s Videntes stellam lifts the voices as though following a guiding spark, while Melissa Dunphy’s O Oriens turns toward the bright edge of morning, shimmering with anticipation. Ola Gjeilo’s Northern Lights widens the horizon with sweeping color and a sense of cosmic vastness. The set then opens into communal song with Willcocks’s The First Nowell, inviting the audience to join in a moment of familiar celebration and shared direction. David Wagoner’s poem “Lost” offers a counterbalance. It reminds us that a journey often begins with stillness and attention. The forest knows where you are, the poem says, and will show the way if you listen. Together, these works trace a path illuminated by both movement and quiet revelation.
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Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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Heyr þú oss himnum á, heyr oss Guð, hýr vor faðir, börn þín smá,
Lukku oss þar til ljá líf eilíft þér erfum hjá, Og að þér aldrei flæmumst frá.
Þitt ríki þróist hér Það þín stjórn og kristni er,
Svo að menn sem flestir safnist Guð til handa þér,
Fegnir yfir því fögnum vér.
Síst skarta sönglist má, sé þar ekki elskan hjá.
Syngjum því lof þá, þér himnum á maður rétt kristinn mun þess gá,
En þegar aumir vér öndumst burt úr heimi hér.
Oss tak þá Guð að þér, þá dýrð sem aldrei þver
Amen, amen, það eflaust sker.Hear us in heaven, O God above, Father of mercy, gentle and near,
Shelter your children in eternal love.
Let your kingdom bloom in this land,
Your reign of peace, your guiding hand.
Gather the many with joy anew—we sing,
but love must carry us through.
Let praises rise to heaven’s height, the faithful know this holy light,
Though we depart in mortal night.
Then take us home beyond the skies, to glory where no shadow lies.
Amen, amen—let this hope rise.–Text: Ólafur á Söndum, Iceland
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There is sweet music here that softer falls
than petals from blown roses on the grass,
or night-dews on still waters between walls
of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass.Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
than tir’d eyelids upon tirèd eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep
down from the blissful skies.Here are cool mosses deep,
and thro’ the moss the ivies creep,
and in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
and from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.–Text: Alfred, Lord Tennyson, United Kingdom
IV. joy
The final set opens into brightness and renewal. Poulenc’s Hodie Christus Natus Est bursts with buoyant color, setting the tone for exuberance. Sametz’s Gaudete amplifies that energy with rhythmic vitality and medieval lift. Will Todd’s My Lord Has Come adds expressive warmth, its lines shaped by tenderness and welcome. Ben Owen’s Noël Nouvelet closes the set with a sense of lively newness rising. Tagore’s excerpt from Gitanjali, “Where the Mind Is Without Fear,” expands this joy into a vision of human flourishing rooted in clarity, freedom, and truth. The music and text together open a space where joy becomes not only celebration, but the courage to imagine a world made new.
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Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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Heyr þú oss himnum á, heyr oss Guð, hýr vor faðir, börn þín smá,
Lukku oss þar til ljá líf eilíft þér erfum hjá, Og að þér aldrei flæmumst frá.
Þitt ríki þróist hér Það þín stjórn og kristni er,
Svo að menn sem flestir safnist Guð til handa þér,
Fegnir yfir því fögnum vér.
Síst skarta sönglist má, sé þar ekki elskan hjá.
Syngjum því lof þá, þér himnum á maður rétt kristinn mun þess gá,
En þegar aumir vér öndumst burt úr heimi hér.
Oss tak þá Guð að þér, þá dýrð sem aldrei þver
Amen, amen, það eflaust sker.Hear us in heaven, O God above, Father of mercy, gentle and near,
Shelter your children in eternal love.
Let your kingdom bloom in this land,
Your reign of peace, your guiding hand.
Gather the many with joy anew—we sing,
but love must carry us through.
Let praises rise to heaven’s height, the faithful know this holy light,
Though we depart in mortal night.
Then take us home beyond the skies, to glory where no shadow lies.
Amen, amen—let this hope rise.–Text: Ólafur á Söndum, Iceland
-
There is sweet music here that softer falls
than petals from blown roses on the grass,
or night-dews on still waters between walls
of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass.Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
than tir’d eyelids upon tirèd eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep
down from the blissful skies.Here are cool mosses deep,
and thro’ the moss the ivies creep,
and in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
and from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.–Text: Alfred, Lord Tennyson, United Kingdom
epilogue
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Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.