Glorious songs of old

“It Came upon a Midnight Clear” is one of the staples of Christmas pageants. Or it was in the days when they had Christmas pageants. I have to say that I was never that enthused about it because it, like “O Little Town of Bethlehem”, it always sounded to me like whoever was singing it was drunk.

However, it turns out that there are alternative melodies to both of them, and these, I find, are quite appealing.

In the US, “Midnight Clear” is sung to a tune called “Carol”, by Richard Storrs Willis, but in the UK it’s to one called “Noel”, adapted from something older by Arthur Sullivan (yes, that Arthur Sullivan). Here it is, performed by the choir of Winchester Cathedral (yes, that Winchester Cathedral):

If you’re interested, the alternative to the Fleet Week version of “O Little Town” uses an English hymn tune called “Forest Green”. Here it is from my pals at King’s College, Cambridge:

Turns out it’s actually not at all a bad carol.

Mother's arms are tight around you

Okay, technically today’s music isn’t specific to Christmas—it’s actually a Welsh lullaby. I first heard it at the beginning of Empire of the Sun, when it impaled me on its beauty and simplicity, and you not infrequently hear it at Christmas concerts.

“Suo Gân” probably dates from around the beginning of the 19^th Century; just your basic lullaby, which Mary might have sung to baby Jesus, if she’d been, you know, Welsh.

This rendition is from the choir of King’s College Cambridge, those folks who also bring us the festival of lessons and carols every year.

Slumber now

Today’s song is another in the lullaby style that we find throughout Christmas music. It’s based on the folk song “Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mild”, but was written in 1912 by Max Reger as an art song.

I learned it as “Maria Wiegenlied” in a German class; in English it’s known as “Mary’s Lullaby” or “The Slumber Song”. Regardless of the language, you get a strong sense of a rocking cradle from the beat and the melody. And in honor of Saint Lucia’s Day, today, let’s have it in Swedish, where it’s known as “Marias vaggsång”, and sung by Swedish mezzo Katharina Fallholm.

There’s also a beautiful duet version with Kathleen Battle and Frederica von Stade, which you can enjoy here.

Churches filled with pride and gold

You might consider today’s piece an unlikely Christmas carol, but it fits right in to the theme of pushing aside all the clamor and clutter of typical holiday activities. Written by Jackson Browne, and performed here by him with The Chieftains, I think “The Rebel Jesus” is a perfect reminder of what things are done these days in the name of saviors, prophets and gods of one stripe or another.

In the case of a baby born in a stable in the backwater of empire, the idea of churches spending millions to cover up long-term crimes against the most vulnerable of their parishes, of televangelists in $3000 suits barely visible behind the pay-by-credit-card logos and of Bible-spewing maniacs spraying innocent people with death on full-auto is just surreal.

And I say—right on, my brothers. And sisters. Right on.

The voice calls us

It’s time to bring out the heavy hitters—in this case, perhaps the heaviest hitter of all time, J.S. Bach. The man wrote cantatas, oratorios and all kinds of stuff on a weekly basis, year after year for decades. Of course there’s something suitable for Christmas from him.

I’m choosing “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme”, from Cantata 140 (out of more than 200 of them; think about that). It’s not strictly Christmas, but it’s suitable, because it’s about us being watchful, awake for the arrival of the long-awaited salvation. “Wachet auf” opens the cantata, proclaiming “Awake, we are called by the voice”. This is one of the busiest pieces I’m going to give you this season, but Bach did love his complexity, so just enjoy.

(This recording is of the entire Cantata. You’re welcome to put up your feet and stay through the whole thing.)

Gratitude Monday: Friends

Last night marked the beginning of Hanukkah, and I’ve been thinking about a friend of mine, whom I’ve known for more than 20 years. All I’m going to say right now is that he’s the kindest, most generous man I know, and he saved my life.

That’s something you don’t say very often, so seems like a good thing to bring up on Gratitude Monday.

Leading onward, beaming bright

Today’s Christmas carol comes to us from a Victorian, who wrote it on his sickbed in 1859. It’s technically for Epiphany (which is the post-Christmas season), but my house, my rules and I’m putting it here.

The melody for “As with Gladness Men of Old” may be more familiar to you from one of my favorite Thanksgiving hymns, “For the Beauty of the Earth”. It lends itself to beautiful harmonies regardless of the lyrics. As you can hear in this rendition from the Wells Cathedral Choir.

Wells Cathedral was one of my surprise discoveries when I lived in Britain. You walk into a 14^th Century building and see an example of scissors arches that you think had to date from the latter part of the 20^th Century. See what I mean?

Make the Yuletide gay

I’ve written about one of my favorite modern American Christmas songs before. It came along at a time when there were powerful forces working on our national sensibilities, and I believe it captured everything in one place—melody, lyrics, even Judy Garland, of whom I’m not a fan.

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was the lynchpin of the 1944 Vincent Minelli film Meet Me in Saint Louis. It speaks of carrying on in the face of unsettling times, and hoping for the restoration of family and loving friends in the future, even if the present is more than a little frightening.

It was a perfect song for Americans who’d been led to believe that, following the Normandy invasion in June of that year, the world war should have been over by Christmas. Not only had that not happened, but the German Ardennes offensive—a total surprise to the Allies—engendered confusion and fear; fear as frozen and bitter as the weather around Bastogne.

We live in unsettled times now, more than 70 years later; recent events have proven that we don’t need to cross an ocean to face terror. So “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is just as timely as it was in the darkest nights of our fight against Nazi totalitarianism. Wherever you are, wherever your loved ones are, take a moment to step away from the current struggle that has enveloped us, and let your hearts be light.

(This version by Linda Ronstadt.)