I realize I’ve not been churning out with my usual vigor this time of year my characteristically voluminous posts on arcane Christmas lore. By now, I’ve usually written with ample cranberry relish about the Yule Goat, the Yule Lads, the Yule Cat, Saturnalia, (the historic) Saint Nicholas, even Krampus. But I’ve been busy, and anyway I’m just not feeling it this year.
That said, there’s always time for a good rant. On the birthday of soprano Rita Streich, I elaborate on this reflection from last year, on the dwindling culture of classical music Christmas, as sadly – if not unexpectedly – it still very much applies. And it’s not going to get any better. I will continue to carry old Christmas in my ears and sporadically in my CD player, but the wise should seek it only on the internet, for it is now no more than a dream remembered. You will search for it on American classical radio in vain.
For much of the time I worked at a certain radio station (for nearly three decades, in fact), it was the rule, for some reason, not to program any Christmas music until after December 16 – Beethoven’s birthday. That has changed, since they laid off all of their sub-managerial local hosts and started piping in most of their content from an independent, presumably more economical service in the Midwest. But for many years, Beethoven was the demarcation for Classical Music Advent to commence. Sure, you don’t want to hammer listeners with a month of brass arrangements of the usual ho ho ho; but for those of us with a little more imagination, who would really like to relax into the repertoire, nine days isn’t a heck of a lot of time.
Most of the grand and contemplative Christmas works (Franz Liszt’s “Christus,” Berlioz’s “L’enfance du Christ,” Vaughan Williams’ “Hodie,” Saint-Saëns’ “Christmas Oratorio,” Casals’ “El Pessebre,” Charpentier’s “Messe de Minuit,” Respighi’s “Laud to the Nativity,” Schütz’s “Christmas Story”) – basically, those that aren’t “Messiah” – are slipping away, as playlists pander to an increasingly A.D.D. society.
Over the years it’s been suggested to me that people “don’t like singing.” Or that they might find the religious content exclusionary or off-putting. (Somehow it’s never a consideration when we play Bach.) The squeaky wheel gets the grease, and the wider listenership has been trained to expect little more than consumer-friendly arrangements of the less-demanding carols. This sets a frustrating precedent, but at a time when even Beethoven symphonies are broadcast less and less frequently in their entirety (except perhaps for the shorter ones), what are you going to do?
Brass renditions of “Rudolph” and “Frosty” are sweetmeats that can give you a lift between meals, but on their own they offer very little sustenance. They are great palate-cleansers, for sure, and they are perfect for a parade or a public tree-lighting or as background for a holiday party, but you don’t necessarily want to down box after box of them.
I muse on this every year, but especially so around the birthday of Rita Streich (1920-1987), whose crystalline voice I have always admired. If you’re going to do traditional carols, Streich is a paragon of how they really should be done. She sang them most enchantingly. Whenever I programmed one of her carol medleys on December 18, for the duration of the performance, it really felt like Christmas.
Streich is also the soprano soloist in a recording that has become dearer and dearer to me over the years of Josef Rheinberger’s “The Star of Bethlehem.” Rheinberger (1839-1901), everyone’s favorite composer from Liechtenstein, is likely remembered, if at all, primarily for his organ works. But he was also a distinguished teacher and left an uplifting piano concerto that really should be much better known. How I would love to hear it in concert!
I used to encounter “The Star of Bethlehem” on the radio every year. Of course, as one of the last of my kind, I myself picked up the standard and bore it proudly, working it into my programs when I still had a regular air shift. Streich’s recording originally appeared on vinyl, on the EMI label. It was reissued on compact disc on Carus. Good luck finding the CD for a reasonable price now that it’s out-of-print and in the talons of the secondhand market. (You’ll have better luck if you own a turntable and aren’t too finicky about condition.) Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau is the baritone and Robert Heger conducts.
A thousand years of Christmas music, and how much of it is ever played? It all seems to have disappeared so quickly.
I realize not everyone is Christian, radio stations are not churches, and we are living in an increasingly secularized society, but I assure you my concerns are more musical than they are religious. I join Hector Berlioz, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and others of their like in appreciating the transcendent beauty of so much music for the season, even in cases where the composers themselves may not have been the most devout believers. (Many most certainly were.)
Somewhere, I’ve got my old program guides for WFLN, Philadelphia’s classical music station for nearly 50 years. While still in its golden era, WFLN filled the airwaves with Christmas music for the entire span of Advent. True “classical” Christmas music. Granted, for a kid (I wasn’t even in my teens at the time I discovered them), it was pretty hardcore, and I was thankful for the occasional lighter interludes like Leopold Mozart’s “A Musical Sleigh-Ride” and Victor Hely-Hutchinson’s “Carol Symphony.” But this music came to characterize the Christmas season for me, other than those times, for the sake of my mother, we would decorate the tree to the Chestnut Brass. I’ll see if I can find one of the December program guides from back in the day and post what I can.
Watch this space, and happy birthday, Rita Streich!
