Instead of listening to shopping-mall versions of 'The Sugar Plum Fairy,' revisit the original, as well as these other, fantastic holiday classical works
For classical-music evangelists, there's something sad—a sense of missed opportunity—about this time of year. The Christmas season, more than any other, witnesses a cultural convergence: Diehard classical lovers haul out the Mariah Carey, while Top-40 enthusiasts smile when dealt out a digitized version of "Carol of the Bells." But the wealth of Christmas music in Western society, whatever your preferred genre, is immense. Only a fraction of the good stuff winds up getting played.
Personally, it's not that I resent "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," or even "All I Want for Christmas," having a place in the yearly playlists. And I recognize the merit in the time-honored and creatively crucial tradition of covers, variations, bastardizations, and re-arrangements in both classical and pop music.
I just don't understand why, when classical items do appear on the holiday-season airwaves, they have to be sold like a four-year-old with a fake chest at a beauty pageant. The Muzak-ified classics don't come across as variations, offered up for their creative merit, but rather conscious attempts to package and sell the originals as something other than they are. As with the case of the four-year-old at the pageant, what's objectionable is the implicit judgment that what's actually on offer isn't sufficient or acceptable. The prosthetics, physical or musical, are meant to transform the product into what people think appeals to a crowd. But just as most crowds actually find it charming to watch children hopping around on stage without pretense, most people I talk to, including the Top-40 listeners, actually prefer the "Hallelujah Chorus" without, say, the extraneous soloist and backup in the version they keep hearing at CVS.
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So let me make my case to home listeners and drugstore managers alike. Below, a partial list of Christmas classical classics, a suggested place to start in the diversification of the season's music—what to listen to if you crave that traditional sound, even if classical music isn't normally your thing. There are the beauties of which only a rearranged fragment is usually played, the gems that are rarely offered at all, and even some edgy modern works people might like if given a chance. Any list of this sort is targeted, and this one is tailored to those with extremely limited exposure to the sort of music on it. But it's also a reminder for jaded fans: Even in the most overplayed and trivialized works, there is much to rediscover.
Rediscovering the Classics: Move Beyond the 'Hallelujah Chorus' and 'The Sugar Plum Fairy'
Sure, the Hallelujah Chorus is fun. While around Christmastime it often gets tarted up beyond recognition, it's also worth remembering that there's an entire oratorio it came with that's well worth a second look. And don't just go to that hilarious and infamous instance of botched lyric-setting—the chorus which sounds like it's saying "oh, we like sheep!" (words: "All we, like sheep, have gone astray.") In the immortal words of classical-pop crossover Julie Andrews, let's start at the very beginning: It's a revelation when you hear the simple, unadorned opening to The Messiah for the first time. Classical music lovers and professionals may be inured to its power, having endured it on endless repeat every year. But there's something striking about the purity of this first recitative and dance-like aria when you stumble upon them even after a long break. Here's the wonderful late American tenor Jerry Hadley performing it. (The London Symphony Orchestra also has a fantastic Youtube page with Mark Padmore singing the aria, and the page also includes a performance of the chorus "For unto us a child is born.")
The other classic in need of a good listen with a fresh ear: The Nutcracker. Spare us the digitized horrors perpetrated upon that poor "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" and the famous "March." And even if you've already listened to the full ballet once or twice, go back. Tchaikovsky is often maligned in musical circles, and certainly dancers tend to be sick to death of this piece, but the little collection of musical vignettes contains some remarkably inventive melodies and orchestrations. For my money, the best recording for a fresh listen might be Valery Gergiev leading the Kirov Orchestra back in 1998, because the breakneck pace of some of the sections makes you hear them differently. There are a lot of good recordings, though. Here's a snippet from one wherein Don Jackson conducts the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. This is the second-to-last section of the ballet, and it usually flies below the radar of the Muzak selection teams. Listen for the frenetic deployment of cymbals under the melody the second time around (0:45). Russian composers of the period took such glee in percussion!
The Oratorios Muzak Missed: Bach and Mendelssohn
Johann Sebastian Bach's Christmas Oratorio is one of the greats—joyous, child-like, complicated. It's impossible to pick a favorite moment, but since the opening is what those putting it on will here first, here's a performance of that by the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists led by John Eliot Gardiner.
Felix Mendlessohn was instrumental in the German rediscovery of Bach's music in the nineteenth century. A gifted composer himself, Mendelssohn died at the age of 38, leaving only a fragment of the oratorio he was in the midst of composing. The fragment included a heartstoppingly beautiful chorus, known in English as "There Shall a Star Come Out of Jacob," now well-established in the Christmas canon. It finishes with a chorale showing the clear influence of his beloved Bach, but with harmonies updated for the nineteenth century. Here's a performance in the Tabernacle Presbyterian Church of Indianapolis.
The Mystery of the Holiday: O Magnum Mysterium
"O Magnum Mysterium" isn't a single piece. It's a text—a Latin Christmas chant. Translated: "O great mystery and wonderful sacrament, That animals should see the new-born Lord lying in a manger. Blessed is the Virgin whose womb was worthy to bear Christ the Lord. Alleluia!"
The text has been set many times over hundreds of years. One early and especially haunting setting comes from the renaissance composer Tomas Luis de Victoria. You can listen to it here. A distinctly modern and strikingly beautiful version is Morten Lauridsen's, below. Its gorgeous harmonic tensions make it an instantly recognizable, accessible staple of high-school and professional choirs alike. It wouldn't be out of place in a movie soundtrack—so why can't we get it into Walgreens? It's no more religious than "O Holy Night," after all.
In Dulci Jubilo—a.k.a. "Good Christian Men Rejoice"
This is another piece with seemingly endless iterations. The tune is the one present in the English song "Good Christian Men Rejoice," but first appeared in a 14th-century manuscript written alternating between Latin and German. In the 19th century, English composer Robert Lucas de Pearsall produced a translation and arrangement that is now regularly performed at Christmastime. Here is a recording of King's College Choir at Cambridge singing the piece as part of their famous annual Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols in 2001. Pearsall's version, as you'll hear, returns to and lingers on the line "O that we were there!" There is an unmistakable element of longing mixed in with the rejoicing, emphasized also in the second verse: "O Jesu parvule! / I yearn for thee alway!" Try to get past the stiff posture of the singers here, which is a regular feature in videos of the King's College performances, and focus on the quality of the sound (and don't blame the singers for how they're stanging; those costumes look stifling).