the Sounds of Christmas
This weekend's storms have stripped the leaves from the tree outside my window, leaves that had stubbornly remained green weeks after every other leaf in town had turned gold, red, or brown, and then had been equally adamant about resisting gravity. This morning, though, light filters to my windows through a lacy network of bare branches.
I am home sick abed, felled by the Grande Dame of All Colds. Sore-throated, fuzzy-headed, sniffling and coughing, and not at all glamourous, I have not been this ill in a long time. My apartment is a TV-Free zone, so I am alternating drowsing with attempts to read and listen to music. Yesterday was Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. Gaudete means rejoice, and I think I can stop some of my grumbling about premature Christmas music long enough to suggest some of my favorite Christmas rejoicing music to you all. It's not a long list, just my favorites.
The Sounds of Christmas, a long out-of-print Fred Waring recording, is a lovely collage of Christmas music that gives the impression of walking through a town where there are carollers on every corner. The first singing voice you hear on the recording, and the last, is that of my grandfather, Leonard Kranendonk. A more beautiful baritone cannot be imagined. I miss him.
Now is the Caroling Season and Caroling, Caroling, also Fred Waring. These are both available on CD. The singing is gorgeous and joyful, the diction unaffected yet all the words are completely understandable. Choir and other vocal ensemble directors, take note!
On Yoolis Night, by Anonymous4. Medieval carols and motets sung flawlessly, with soprano Ruth Cunningham's pure soaring voice lifting the listener to bliss.
He Is Christmas, Take Six. The perfect balance to the preceding recording, this acapella joy-fest is grounded in the body, and one must dance. Must!
Of course the Manhattan Transfer has done some lovely holiday recordings, too: The Christmas Album and An Acapella Christmas.
Little Women, the fim soundtrack by Thomas Newman. One of my yearly rituals is the re-reading of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, a book I have been devoted to since I first read it when I was about 7. More than anything, I wanted to grow up to be Jo March. This novel has been adapted for film four times so far, once in 1918 as a silent, once in 1933 (Katherine Hepburn portayed Jo), and again in 1949 (my least favorite. June Allyson as Jo? I think not. Elizabeth Taylor as Amy? The mind reels.) My favorite of all these is director Gillian Armstrong's 1994 version, starring Winona Ryder as Jo and Susan Sarandon as Marmee - you can read more about this on the IMDB site. Thomas Newman's score is evocative and supportive and beautiful. Why is this on my Christmas list? Because the book opens at Christmas time, and as originally planned by Alcott, closes on the following Christmas (what we now know as Little Women was originally two books,Little Women and Good Wives), and so for me it has been part of my Christmas for ... hmmm... a few years.
Though at this moment I feel like I am going to be coughing all the rest of my natural life (you know that feeling!), I think that next year I will be able to add one more Christmas collection to the list: my own, which I am hoping to record in 2008.
But for now, more tea. I continue to wish you all a blessed Advent.