Die Nacht ist vorgedrungen

Christmas is the festival of love. It means spending time with one’s family and is synonymous with coziness, gifts, colourful lights, and, of course, singing Christmas carols. Nothing else puts us more in the Christmas spirit than the classic „Silent Night“. But often we do not ask ourselves what all of it really means. What do the green branches of the Christmas tree symbolise? What is the meaning of the red baubles and all the lights and stars? It is precisely these questions that we want to explore with this album.

The wonder of Christmas seems outdated, but the religious scholar Pinchas Lapide once said that you can only take the Bible literally or seriously, but not both at the same time. If you truly engage with the Christmas story, you will be enchanted by its magic and symbolic power of the light in the form of the morning star, also incarnated in the Savior himself. Accordingly, we have taken Christmas seriously when selecting the pieces for this album and compiling them carefully. For us, the light is at the heart of it, together with the hope springing from Jesus’s birth and the message that all will be well.

Especially in dark times people feel the need to close ranks, and the „holy nights“ take on a special meaning. „Die Nacht ist vorgedrungen“ (The Night Has advanced) was written by Jochen Klepper on 18 December 1937 and published in 1938 as „Christmas Carol“ in the volume „Kyrie. Spiritual Songs.“ Klepper, who experienced the horrors of the Nazi era first-hand, prefaced the song with the following Bible verse: “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.” (Romans 13, 11-12)

His hymn was intended to offer hope and to call for perseverance, celebrating the triumph of the spirit over all darkness. By contrast, Jochen Klepper himself was ultimately overwhelmed by darkness. He was about to be forced to divorce his wife, and both her and their daughter were going to be deported, so they all decided to seek refuge in death in December 1942.

Many cultures represent death in a similar way: as a dark figure, often silent, symbolized in nature by night, winter, cold, and the absence of green. Thus, the barren thorn forest is a common image for the death that surrounds us all. By contrast, like Adonis, Mother Hulda, Perchta or Befana, the Virgin Mary causes flowers to bloom at every turn and brings life – at least in the folkloric Marian veneration of Central Europe and also in the song „Maria durch ein Dornwald ging“ (Mary walked through a thorn forest). It was recorded in the Eichsfeld region of Thuringia for the first time, probably originating in the 16th century. It enjoyed great popularity in its 1850 version and was propagated by the ‘Jugendbewegung’ (youth movement), remaining popular to this day. Many artists have explored this song, such as the Swiss composer Silvan Loher, now based in Norway, who created one of the most beautiful arrangements. In anticipation of the birth of the child, Mary walks through the thorn forest with the child beneath her heart and causes the plants around her to blossom. It is a miraculous promise that life will triumph over the sting of death.

Another Advent song often sung during this time of expectation is “Tauet, Himmel, den Gerechten”. Based on the original Latin song “Rorate Coeli”, it has undergone many variations in text and melody. Probably the most popular is the following: “Drop down, O heaven, the righteous! Clouds, rain him down! Cried the people in anxious nights, to whom God gave the promise that they would one day see the Mediator himself and enter heaven. For the gate was closed until a Savior came forth.” Johann Rosenmüller also explored the hymn and created a short sacred concerto, “Träuffelt ihr Himmel”, which would become one of his best-known works. Joachim Meier, who was Rosenmüller‘s contemporary, writes in his book “Der anmaßliche Hamburgische Criticus sine Crisi” (The Presumptuous Hamburg Criticus sine Crisi) from 1728 that Rosenmüller “looked so much like the court conductor of Darmstadt, Wolfgang Carl Briegel, that one could easily mistake one for the other although Briegel, as a man of distinction, was his equal neither in moribus nor in composition.”

Briegel, too, created a whole series of sacred concertos and cantatas, of which “Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her”, published in Gotha in 1660 in the “Evangelische Gespräche”, is a charming example. The short duets between cornett and violin emphasise the pastoral character, in which the angel appears to the shepherds, who praise the birth of Christ in three- and four-part choral passages.

While Briegel‘s musical language remains rooted in Early Baroque, his successor in Darmstadt, Christoph Graupner, was already composing in a completely different style: High Baroque, almost operatic. After training with Thomaskantoren Thomas Selle and Johann Kuhnau, he worked as a harpsichordist under Reinhard Keiser at the Hamburg Opera on Gänsemarkt until he was offered the position in Darmstadt. “Life was the light of men”, composed for the third day of Christmas on 27 December 1745, is a classic example of his cantatas, playing with the emotions and mannerisms of his time.

Just as Graupner followed Briegel, Dietrich Buxtehude followed his father-in-law, Franz Tunder, at St. Mary‘s Church in Lübeck. Their arrangements of „Wachet auf ruft uns die Stimme“ (Wake up, the voice calls us) and „In dulci jubilo“ are just two examples of their renowned creative work.

Philipp Nicolai‘s hymn “Wachet auf ruft uns die Stimme”, published in 1599 in “Freudenspiegel des ewigen Lebens”, quotes a phrase from “Silberweise” (Silver Tune) by Meistersinger Hans Sachs from Nuremberg, which was very well-known at the time, and refers to the biblical parable of the wise and foolish virgins. The mystical marriage of the Messiah with Zion as personified Jerusalem and image of the believing soul is already the spiritual interpretation of the Song of Songs in post-exilic Judaism and later in Christianity. It is particularly popular among Protestants at the end of the church year, while Catholics sing it at the beginning of the church year, namely Advent.

In the third verse, which Tunder did not set to music, Nicolai writes, “Gloria be sung to you / With men and English tongues / With harps and cymbals beautifully: Of twelve pearls are the gates in your place / We are consorts of the angels high around your throne / No eye has ever felt / No ear has heard / Such joy. Of this we are glad / io / io Eternally in dulci iubilo.”

“In dulci jubilo” is a poem from the late 14th century attributed to the Dominican monk Heinrich Seuse from Thurgau, who is venerated as blessed in the Catholic Church. This vernacular song is, in a broader sense, a so-called Macaronic Poem or “noodle poem”, in which two languages are blended in an original way for humorous purposes, often producing strange grammar. Later, this linguistic play increasingly found its way into more serious texts as a stylistic device. Buxtehude‘s version actually calls for three vocal parts, but in our version the viola and viola da gamba “sing” together with the vocal part in a trio.

With “Miladuka”, a Byzantine trope, the album turns to the nucleus of Christianity and Christmas mysticism. Under the Roman emperor Constantine the date of Christ‘s birth was set on 24 December. According to mythology, Mithras, the “Sol Invictus” (“unconquered sun”), was born on the same day. He was still very much revered in Constantine‘s time. It was also Constantine who had the first Christian church built in Bethlehem above the cave in which Adonis had been worshipped and who thus established it as the birthplace of Jesus. The Byzantine tradition has continued to set the tone in many Eastern churches to this day, and Arab Christianity also uses „Miladuka“ to celebrate the birth of Christ, who brought light into the world and in whose light justice will reign on earth. It has remained a popular Christmas carol and is sung by congregations in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, among others, to the present.

Bethlehem as Christ’s place of birth features in many songs, for example in a well-liked chanson that unexpectedly turned into a Christmas song. Originally a frivolous street song, “Une petite feste” was a very popular chanson, which annoyed the Jesuit Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld. Consequently, he created a contrafacture, giving the melody a new “spiritually pleasing” text in order to “remove the pestilential poison” from the song. By contrast, we have taken the song somewhat out of the pious context and brought it back to the streets, where it originated. Although we do not change the Christmas carol back to a frivolous chanson, we imagine it as a fictional popular song that might have been sung in the narrow streets of medieval towns and villages because we wanted to contrast the somewhat spiritualized aura of Spee‘s poetry with something bourgeois and down-to-earth. Thus, „Zu Bethlehem geboren“ (Born in Bethlehem) became „Une petite feste à Bethlehem“. Common people have always been proud of the fact that the birth of Jesus Christ was announced to them first, and so a small Christmas street festival seemed very fitting.

Folk poetry also found its way into the homes of the bourgeoisie and even the nobility, where domestic music played a major role. Thus, musical consorts were quite common, and one of the grand masters of this genre was William Byrd. As gentleman of the Chapel Royal, he is considered the most influential composer of the Elizabethan era. In addition to countless masses and choral works, he also composed a great deal of consort music. “Out of the Orient Crystal Skies” is based on a polyphonic five-part string arrangement, with the upper part containing a text from the Christmas narrative. This remains entirely instrumental and simultaneously tells the story of the star over Bethlehem and the Three Wise Men in an almost naive tone.

Thomas Ravenscroft also maintains a folkloric tone in “Remember O thou man”, published in his “Melismata”, which was probably first played in Cambridge and later in London, where he was a member of the choir of Saint Paul‘s Cathedral and a music teacher at Christ‘s Hospital. Although the piece is very simple, it also has a moral dimension, pointing to the origin of Christmas: Remember, man, that your time on earth is limited – remember, man, Adam‘s deep fall and the damnation of mankind. But now someone has been born, quite simply as a child in the manger, who opens the door to paradise for us again.

From early 17th-century England, we move to 20th-century England: Benjamin Britten takes on an old French Christmas folk song. “La Noël Passée” tells the story of an orphan who sings a Christmas carol under the window of “Good King Henry” (Henry IV – “lo nòstre bon rei Enric”) and, in gratitude, receives two golden écus and is instructed to pray to the Christ Child and put in a good word for “sweet France” and its king.

With “Nous voici dans la ville”, a version of the search for an inn, we remain in France. Originating in the 17th century, probably in the region Anjou, the song has enjoyed some popularity throughout the French-speaking world – often in different textual versions. In the end, however, an “hôtesse” always appears and takes care of the wandering couple, finding a place for the Holy Family. And thus all is well.

All will be well. These tidings of joy are the foundation of our album because the birth of Jesus makes the promise of salvation come true for all believers. The morning star with its miraculous light guides and leads anyone who desires to believe.

This miraculous light also permeates the last piece of this recording. It guided Dietrich Bonhoeffer through his life, strengthening his faith, which remained unshaken to the very end. Imprisoned by the Nazis in 1943, he wrote to his fiancée Maria von Wedemeyer on 19 December 1944 from the prison in the basement of the ‘Reichssicherheitshauptamt’ (Reich Security Head Office), adding to the letter “a few verses that occurred to me in the last few evenings” as a “Christmas greeting for you and your parents and siblings”. In this poem, he expresses confidence despite his desperate situation. Bonhoeffer was executed in the Flossenbürg concentration camp on 9 April 1945.

“Von Guten Mächten” (By Good Forces) is arguably Bonhoeffer‘s most popular text, touching people‘s hearts with its simplicity and hopefulness. Today, over seventy musical settings of this text exist. One of the most famous ones is the melody by Otto Abel, which has found its way into many hymnals worldwide.

In his letter, Bonhoeffer prefaces the poem with the following words:

“It is as if the soul develops organs in solitude that we hardly know in everyday life. That is why I have not felt alone or abandoned for one instant. You and my parents, all of you, my friends and students in the field, you are always completely present to me. Your prayers and kind thoughts, Bible verses, long-forgotten conversations, pieces of music, books take on a life and reality like never before. It is a great invisible realm in which one lives and whose existence one does not doubt. When the old children‘s song about the angels says, ‚Two who cover me, two who wake me‘, this protection in the evening and in the morning by good invisible powers is something that we adults need no less today than children do.”

Personal comment

Another Christmas album – is that necessary? Certainly not, but the beautiful thing about Christmas is that it is full of small and wonderful unnecessary things that we look forward to all year round. I have a solid canon of Christmas carols that I listen to every year, from “Fischerchöre” and Karel Gott to Britten‘s “A Ceremony of Carols”. Yet every year I also search for new songs and music to expand my Christmas repertoire. And as much as I would have loved to record my own version of „Silent Night“ or similar classics, I decided against it and turned to lesser-known but no less beautiful pieces that I would like to share with the world. The religious context was also important to me. As much as I enjoy celebrating Christmas with all its kitsch and strange customs, I have never lost touch with the origins of Christmas and its message. The baubles may sparkle beautifully on the Christmas tree, but they are eventually symbols of the apple that Adam and Eve plucked from the tree of knowledge. Hence, the tone of the album is at times quite serious, but never devoid of hope. On the contrary, it is intended to create a sense of intimacy, an almost intimate togetherness between the individual and the light. But this intimacy also involves vulnerability. And this vulnerability can be heard. I thought long and hard about whether I should include Klepper‘s and Bonhoeffer‘s texts in the programme as they are certainly challenging and because of my great reverence for both texts. It is virtually impossible to do them justice in their entirety. Thus, I came to the conclusion to record a quiet and personal interpretation of these texts. Recorded in the silence of the night, in a dimly lit church, and – to be honest – with a lump in my throat. The voice hovers somewhere between whispering and singing and is on the verge of breaking several times. As a singer, releasing something like this may not be wise, but in the end it was more important to me to deal with these great texts in the way that felt right at the time of the recording. Today I might sing them differently – but at that very moment it was the only possible approach for me.

Generally, recordings are always just snapshots. And in my opinion, exciting recordings are often not necessarily perfect but full of life. I hope we have succeeded in compiling a vibrant array of Advent and Christmas songs with this album. What we have definitely achieved is imperfection – or euphemistically “authenticity”. Especially on my part. I had a fever of almost 40 degrees Celsius when we began recording and was suffering from a cold in various stages throughout the recording process. Had I not had so many wonderful people at my side, patiently and inspiringly supporting me, I do not know if the production could have been completed. Much of it was rushed, and we had to be very flexible to overcome a lot of different obstacles, but everyone pulled together.

I would like to thank you, dear Bernadette, Sabine, Philipp, Ildiko, Leopold, Anna, Felix, Kit, Patrick, Christian, and Viktoria, for your patience and unfailing good humour embarking on this adventure. Despite your own colds and other issues, a little house-music ensemble has emerged that almost feels like a family. I would also like to especially thank our sound engineer Jonas Niederstadt from the Carpe Diem label, who made the impossible possible in such a short and intensive recording period, even managing to integrate the celebratory ringing of the bells for the election of Pope Leo XIV into the recording in such a way that it is almost unnoticeable. I would also like to sincerely thank the team at the Tiergarten Evangelical Congregation in Berlin for making it possible, to the best of their knowledge and ability, to record in the very special church space of the Kaiser Friedrich Memorial Church, in particular Simon Gramß and Nikolas Kilkis.

I would also like to express my sincere gratitude to Dr. Ralf Lützelschwab and Klaus Peter Grap for their friendship and support, as well as to Frank Jaeger and Uta Barth. I would especially like to acknowledge my dear colleague and friend Jamil Freij, who not only introduced me to „Miladuka“, but also, despite my lack of competence in Arabic, approved our version of this wonderful song and generously forgave us for one or two mistakes. Thank you very much for your support. شكرا جزيلا لك صديقي

Matthias from „Kleinanzeigen“, you were our hero as you saved our lives by donating your coffee machine. Jutta Berr-Resch and Mark Jost, without you this recording would not exist. For this and much more you hold a very special place in my heart.

And last but not least, a big thank you to all of you who have purchased this album and listened to us – because without your open ears, we would all be playing into the void. Merry Christmas!

Richard Resch, Berlin/Regensburg 2025

Recorded may 5–10, 2025

Location: Kaiser-Friedrich-Gedächtniskirche, Berlin, Germany
Balance engineer & recording producer: Jonas Niederstadt
Booklet texts & translations: Richard Resch
Corporate Design: Tim+Tim, timandtim.com
Cover & Booklet photography: Nikolas Hagele

Gramophone

"Die Nacht ist vorgedrungen from Richard Resch's Ensemble La Silla is my favourite concept-programme this year, offering a multilingual blend of traditional, sacred and seasonal night-time themes. Take the opening two tracks: a spine-chilling Advent hymn by Jochen Klepper written in 1937, The night is advanced, which then contrasts with Maria durch ein Dornwald ging ('Mary walked through a thorn forest') arranged by Silvan Laher, representing death, a folk-song setting reminiscent of Warlock's 'Sleep'. Resch is strongest in understated, mournful songs but reveals a joyful side in Franz Tunder's Wachet auf, complete with camp festive chimes and exuberant string-playing." Gramophone magazine, Dec. 2025