When Jupiter aligned with Saturn -- Dec. 24, 2020 column

By MARSHA MERCER

In the longest, darkest nights of the year, we turn to the light.

We set electric candles in windows, light the Hanukkah menorah and the Kwanzaa Kinara, and decorate Christmas trees with strings of light.

We adorn our houses, trees, shrubs and lamp posts with colored, white, twinkling and flashing lights – the flashier the better.

The light show this pandemic holiday season started earlier and seemed brighter and more sparkly than in other years. Since more people were staying home for the holidays, they evidently amped up their displays. We need it.

Our holiday lights outshine those in the night sky, but this December the heavens offered us a rare treat: the “great conjunction” of Jupiter and Saturn.

The giant planets aligned and from Earth appeared as one bright star on Dec. 21. The planets appeared to be just a tenth of a degree apart – about the thickness of a dime held at arm’s length, NASA reported.

How rare was it? The last time the two planets appeared to be this close to each other was during the Middle Ages.

“You’d have to go all the way back to just before dawn on March 4, 1226, to see a closer alignment between these objects visible in the night sky,” said Rice University astronomer Patrick Hartigan.

Taking such a long view of the natural phenomenon raises questions. What were people thinking and doing in 1226 when they looked up to see this bright “star” in the night sky? Were they as consumed by their daily cares as we are by ours? Surely, they were, but we know little about 1226 except that the “great conjunction” took place.  

More recently, but still about 400 years ago -- as Europe was embroiled in the Thirty Years War and the New World’s Plymouth Colony welcomed two additional ships -- Jupiter and Saturn were nearly as close on July 16, 1623, as they were this week.

In 1610, the Italian astronomer Galileo, using his telescope, had discovered the moons of Jupiter and an oval around Saturn that became known as its rings. There’s no record of Galileo viewing the conjunction of the two planets 13 years later, however.

The timing of the “great conjunction” so close to Christmas this year was coincidental – the planets come together every 20 years, although we on Earth can’t always see the event -- but it called to mind the story in the Gospel of Matthew about the Star of Bethlehem that guided the Three Wise Men. Astronomers believe a similar conjunction did happen around the time of Jesus’s birth.

The very bright “star” is an optical effect. Jupiter and Saturn were 500 million miles apart on Monday. The event was bright enough to be seen with the naked eye. Or, for those under cloudy skies, observatories closed because COVID-19 to in-person viewing parties live-streamed the conjunction.

People around the world paused and looked up. For a few minutes, we could put aside our worries about the coronavirus pandemic, economic hardship and political struggles and marvel at the bigger picture overhead.

Mankind has always consulted the night skies for guidance on sailing the seas and when to plant crops. Looking into the night sky sparks questions about how we got here and how we fit into the universe. The ancient Greeks believed the gods placed the constellations in the sky to give us lessons on how to live.

While most of us have lost our connections to the heavens, astronomical events like the “great conjunction” fire our imaginations and help us feel connected to other inhabitants of our blue dot of a planet.

In his 1994 book, “Pale Blue Dot,” astronomer Carl Sagan wrote about a photo of Earth taken from a space:

 “There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.”

The next time Jupiter and Saturn will be this close is March 15, 2080. Mark your calendar.

©2020 Marsha Mercer. All rights reserved.

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Stories of light help us weather winter's dark -- Dec. 15, 2016 column

By MARSHA MERCER

At a holiday craft fair last weekend, a Christmas ornament made of wood caught my eye.

The hand-painted Canadian goose had a jaunty wreath around his neck – and a price tag of $14. I turned away.

Then the artist came over. 

“He has moonlight on his wings,” she said. I looked more closely, and sure enough, there was a faint dusting of glitter.

Suddenly, the goose had a story. That changed everything.

And, yes, he looks great on my Christmas tree.

We’re in a season of stories. In these, the shortest days of the year, we celebrate the winter solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa -- each with its own story of the triumph of light over darkness.

As seasons go, winter tends to get short shrift. No one ever said winter afternoon were the two most beautiful words in the English language, as Henry James did about summer afternoon.

While hardy skiers and sledders find joy in a bright, snowy landscape, for many of us the season brings more dreaded wintry mix than delightful winter wonderland.

Shakespeare’s play “A Winter’s Tale” is mostly remembered for its puzzling stage direction: “Exit, pursued by a bear.”

Fortunately, though, this is also a season of music. Many of us grew up on the musical story of the underdog “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” by Johnny Marks and Tchaikovsky’s charming “Nutcracker” and find comfort as adults in Handel’s sublime “Messiah.”

Long before the Weather Channel told stories of frightful weather, music regaled us with stories of wintry scenes. Perhaps no other musical work evokes chill winds and ice as perfectly as Antonio Vivaldi’s “Winter.”

The 17^th and 18^th century composer wrote 500 concertos and dozens of operas, sonatas and cantatas in his 63 years on earth. But the masterpiece most people think of first is “The Four Seasons.” He paired the music with four sonnets he may have written himself.

I happened to be at the National Gallery of Art last Sunday afternoon when the Tempesta di Mare, the Philadelphia Baroque Orchestra, performed Vivaldi’s “Winter.” The piece was part of a winter-themed concert in the West Garden Court, a peaceful indoor space with tall trees and statuary.

Vivaldi’s winter story unfolds in three movements, and the music to a remarkable degree tracks the story told in the sonnet.

The first movement portrays the sounds of someone shivering in biting, icy winds with chattering teeth and stamping feet. In the second we imagine someone sitting contentedly by a blazing fire at home, while people outside are drenched in pouring rain. In the third we are outside in the storm again, walking the icy path slowly, fearful of slipping and falling on the ice, but we crash to the ground anyway. Back inside, we still feel the cold wind.

“This is winter, which nonetheless brings its own delights,” the sonnet accompanying “Winter” concludes. In Vivaldi’s hands, it does.

At a time when many think Washington can’t do anything right, it’s worth recalling the story of the National Gallery’s free Sunday concerts, now in their 75^th season.

The museum had opened only the year before when the first concert in May 1942 welcomed wartime troops. The gallery’s director was inspired by the National Gallery in London, which held piano concerts during the Blitz of 1940 and 1941.

In Washington, the gallery has sponsored more than 3,000 free concerts. Performers come from all over the world. The concerts are scheduled from fall to spring, and start times vary. Seating is first-come, first served.

If we ever needed stories to brighten the mood and renew our faith, it’s now. In our deeply divisive presidential election, both candidates were selling their personal stories. Their narratives couldn’t have been more different, and voters, bless their hearts, chose the more entertaining one.

President-elect Donald Trump is building the story of his presidency with his Cabinet appointments, delighting some and horrifying others.

This winter will bring the Trump inauguration, protests and celebrations. In the meantime, enjoy the stories of the triumph of light over dark – winter solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa.

©2016 Marsha Mercer. All rights reserved.