Schwanengesang und Bloggenspiel

The Swan, Saint-Saens

Pavane, Faure

Gymnopedie, Satie

Years ago in Oakville, I remember walking after dark during that magical time, long after nightfall yet well before break of day. The mild winter weather alone was like a dream, and I made my way instinctively through the quiet, empty streets to where the grey-black expanse of lake and night-sky came into full view. Soft waves murmured against the rocky shoreline, and, just out a ways, barely discernable, white objects hovered; as my eyes adjusted to the half-light, I realized it was a bank of mature swans, gently riding invisible waves. In late summer I returned to Oakville an as dusk settled along the shores of Lake Ontario, the distant lights of Toronto and the Golden Horeshoe began to glint with the gloaming. I played through some familiar repertoire with the sound of the waves for accompaniment until my eyes couldn’t make out the notes on the page.

And then I played one last song, my ’schwanengesang’ for the evening.

Swan song has become an idiom referring to a final theatrical or dramatic appearance, or any final work or accomplishment. For example, Franz Schubert’s collection of songs, published in his year of death, 1828, is known as the Schwanengesang (German for “swan song”). It generally carries the connotation that the performer is aware of his or her imminent demise (or retirement) and is expending his or her last breath on one magnificent final effort. Anton Chekhov’s one-act play, The Swan Song (1887), describes an ageing actor who, while sitting alone in a darkened theatre, ruminates on his past.*

*Courtesy of good ol’ Wikipedia!