Ninnenanne

The suggestive power of the lullaby moves us and takes both young and old to that dreamy, serene time that is often lost. My thought is dedicated to all children and serves as a small contribution to rediscovering, when needed, a place – the place of childhood, with its magic, fears and comfort, where monsters and angels, fairies and demons roam without shame. It aims to build a bridge to that hidden drop of honey in the depths of someone's past, where hope is nourished. Stefania Redaelli © 2025 This is how Stefania Redaelli introduces her recording project, which now appears on this Da Vinci Classics album. The idea of recording an entire cd of lullabies is undoubtedly original, and it also allows the listener to experience a rich palette of different, yet complementary, ways of understanding the 'lullaby'. There are probably few things, and few musical genres, as universal as the lullaby. Contemporary studies on prenatal life show that the child in the womb listens very attentively to what comes from the outside world – even if this is filtered by the mother's body. What during the nine months before birth forms a long and constant sound is the mother's heartbeat, which guides the baby's development during the adventure of pregnancy. The child also learns to distinguish and respond to the mother's voice; moreover, if the mother is an enthusiastic listener of a specific musical piece or a particular musical style, the foetus will become familiar with it as well. Evidence shows that these musical pieces almost become a 'mother-by-proxy' for the baby. At birth, the mother's voice, the feeling of her body (and thus of her heartbeat), but also her favourite music, are all elements that the newborn easily recognizes, and they all have a calming, reassuring, comforting and soothing effect on him or her. If all this has been proven by recent scientific studies, mothers have known this for centuries. It is no coincidence, as mentioned, that all cultures have some form of lullaby; and that singing to a child is one of the most basic, most common and almost inescapable forms of musicality. Lullabies are passed down from generation to generation. Mothers sing for their babies, regardless of how beautiful or pure their voice is. The child is no music critic: babies only want to feel the presence of their mother through her voice and body (especially in the very first weeks after birth, when the mother's face is still quite unclear to the baby). Lullabies are generally very simple. Their main characteristics are repetition (because this is another reassuring element for a child's rest), the hushed tone (to lull the baby to sleep), a limited pitch range (because the mother's voice must be completely at ease, never forced, otherwise the calming effect is lost) and especially the evoking of the rocking movement of the mother's arms on which the baby lies. Often no words are needed. Mothers often simply sing repeated syllables; one of the most common is precisely la-la. Not by chance, this is one of the first sounds the baby later learns to articulate. Not by chance is this the Latin name of one of the notes – of the note that determines the pitch of the entire orchestra, indeed. Not by chance are the child's first attempts to speak called babbling (musicians and music lovers may remember the beautiful choir Herrscher des Himmels, erhöre das Lallen from Bach's Weihnachtsoratorium, in which the clumsy but enthusiastic speech of the faithful about the mystery of the Incarnation is compared to the repetition of meaningless syllables by a child). Not by chance does the word lullaby evoke this sound. And not by chance are many refrains of popular or folk songs based on repeated la-la-la (we also find this in many Renaissance compositions, such as A lieta vita by Gian Giacomo Gastaldi or So ben mi c'ha bon tempo by Orazio Vecchi). The experience of motherhood and the tenderness evoked by the image of a mother rocking her baby and singing a lullaby to put him or her to sleep are therefore universal. They evoke feelings of nostalgia, sweetness and familiarity when presented to a listener. For this reason, many composers (and various men among them!) throughout music history have transformed the style, the idea and the musical gestures of spontaneous lullabies into full-fledged musical "works". It is precisely the fact that the text of lullabies is normally rather superfluous – if it exists at all – that makes instrumental lullabies very common. But there is also another side of the coin. If a lullaby rocks a baby to sleep, sleep can also be a symbol for another reality, namely that of death. Especially in the past, when child mortality was unfortunately extremely widespread, it was possible to 'play' on the ambiguity of this sleep to suggest other, much sadder, perspectives. Figurative art reinforced this perspective. The sculptural and pictorial 'topos' of the Pietà (the Virgin Mary receiving the dead body of her Son) powerfully evokes the image of a mother rocking her newborn in her arms and at her lap. This and similar images are also suggested in various songs, especially in the past: Bach's Bist du bei mir is for example a beautiful meditation on the 'slumber of death', sung with extreme serenity and almost with joy. Another famous and beautiful example is William Byrd's Lullaby my sweet little babe, in which the composer, a fervent Catholic during the persecutions of the early seventeenth century, expressed what toll Catholics in his time had to pay. Belief, religiosity and lullabies are indeed closely linked. Most children received the first rudiments of their religious upbringing from their mother; conversely, lullabies often invoked God, the Virgin Mary or guardian angels as protectors of the child. But given the universality of singing lullabies, another interesting phenomenon was that of young girls "playing mother" and singing lullabies to their younger brothers and sisters, or even to their dolls. On this Da Vinci Classics album, there are indeed some pieces that suggest this tender and "educational" practice. Thus Ljapounov's Berceuse d'une poupée is a description of such a situation: another similar piece can be found in Claude Debussy's Children's Corner, written for and dedicated to the composer's daughter, Chouchou. And another composer and father, Robert Schumann, wrote many pieces for his children and for young pianists in general. His Album for the Young op. 68 is a masterpiece, both within the framework of music education and of musical quality in general. There are no lullabies in it, but there are in his Kinderszenen op. 15 (Kind im Einschlummern, just before the last piece), and there are two in his Albumblätter ("Album Leaves"), op. 124, which is recorded here. Schumann's own experience as a father of a large family and the role of his beloved Clara – herself an exceptional musician – as a mother to his children undoubtedly encouraged him to depict these children's scenes with special tenderness. Other works come from Eastern Europe: works by Russian composers such as Balakirev and Tchaikovsky are particularly interesting, because these two musicians represent the two competing sides of late nineteenth-century Russian music. On the one hand, Balakirev was a representative (and even the founder) of the Mighty Five, who strongly focused on the national heritage of folk music; on the other hand, Tchaikovsky looked with particular interest to the West and to the forms of German music (represented here among others by Johannes Brahms, whose lullaby is one of his most well-known pieces). Yet other works come from other Eastern European countries, such as the two Berceuses by Aleksandr Michałowski – whose Polish ancestry and his own reputation as an excellent Chopin interpreter make it possible that some references to Chopin's own masterful Berceuse are recalled. Other similar suggestions can also be found in the work of Maszynski, a student of Aleksandr Michałowski: his berceuse is delightfully simple in its colours and nuances and manages to create a nursery rhyme atmosphere. The French world is also represented, for example with two of the most important names in this collection: Debussy and Cécile Chaminade. The latter, a female composer, one of the most important and most appreciated composers of her time, sketches an innocent yet moving depiction of childish heroism. The "little wounded soldier" can be a child who slightly injures himself during his games with his playmates; he reaches back to the tender care of his mother, and the fleeting moment of drama (described with unexpected modulations) is the occasion for a new wave of cuddles portrayed in Chaminade's music. True, dramatic heroism is instead depicted and honoured in Debussy's Berceuse héroïque. Debussy wrote this piece for an album entitled King Albert's Book: A Tribute to the Belgian King and People from Representative Men and Woman Worldwide Worldwide, intended to honour and appreciate the neutrality of the Belgians, which had been brutally attacked by the Germans. This valuable document contained works by Edward Elgar, Jack London, Maurice Maeterlinck and many others. The composer wanted, as he himself stated, to write a work that had no other pretension than to pay tribute to so much patient suffering. Together, these pieces – and the many others that make up this fascinating compilation – testify to humanity's most universal feeling: that of motherhood and the protective care that mothers provide to their children. It is a care that extends far beyond the age and time of lullabies, and which even adults often and with unique tenderness remember; it is an experience that music both represents and transfigures.