NORTHUMBRIAN MUSIC
NIGHTS
What we said about
'Stuff the
Turkey'
Christmas is for realists, too
Having gorged myself on Christmas shows over the past weeks, I find I'm quite ready to contemplate a quiet holiday with the family around the hearthfire.
In a pre-season venture I'd already done my holy bit in a contemplative and very moving solemn mass by Rossini with the Orpheus Choir, but then of course this past Sunday there was the traditional spiritual experience of the 'Nine Lessons and Carols' service in the candlelit and holly-decorated parish church. Add in the cheerful community choir concert, the delightful school Christmas show, two folky Christmas song-fests, the evening shopping during a snow flurry in the company of intrepid Round Tablers and carolers, and phew! Enough already! Without being a humbugging Scrooge, and still enjoying all these shows, services and displays immensely, I'd not be honest if I didn't admit to feeling just that bit Christmas-ed out.
Except that I also went along to listen to the realistic sentiments, and the consistently surprising close harmonies of Artisan, presenting their intriguing and thought-provoking seasonal show, 'Stuff the Turkey' in Haltwhistle this past Friday night.
Now I suspect that beneath most of the surface flummery and ephemera that we co-exist with during the Christmas season, these days, rather more hearts than you might think beat in a similar humanist rhythm to my own, while goodnaturedly accommodating the Christmas story. But we'd not like to admit to too much cynicism, really, would we, during the magical season of good cheer to all.
The best thing about Artisan's show was that it was okay to be realistic about Christmas. How about the starter, a witty riposte on those traditional prerequisites in the run-up to the big feast day? Or what about opening all those presents? Forget all that sugary hokum about the sentiment behind the gift, it's the price thatt counts, isn't it?
Ah, but it were better 'When I were a lad' -- and it was easy to chant along to the recitative's refrain -- "Kid's these days, they don't know they're born". And if it's mystery you're after, then what could be more of a mystery than 'Who put the wobble in the jelly, or who put the smell in the sprouts, or the squeak in the door?'
I appreciated the good Yorkshire wit and droll humour of the evening, and the topical pantomime covering much of the second half was a hilarious pastiche of every pantomime I've ever seen, but perhaps it was the realistic humanist part of the programme that struck the strongest chord.
That first Christmas, a lovely metaphor of course, but what if, as Brian Bedford did in 'First Christmas', you stand it on its head? What about those ambivalent first Christmases we may experience throughout our lives? That first Christmas away from home; that first Christmas in a new home; that first Christmas after a dreadful loss; that first Christmas on the street; that first Christmas without a beloved partner; that first Christmas in the nursing home? These are among the first Christmases that are experienced directly today, just as much as the enchantment of the cradle in Bethlehem, and it seems to me that they call out to us for love to share, just as much as the love made flesh on that holy night may have cried out for his mother (especially when that drummer boy started his infernal racket!).
Brian's secular Christmas carol, 'Gently, softly, I'll whisper a prayer for you' perhaps best encapsulated the ties that bind us together, all of us humans, hand in hand like 'Paper Angels'. I think I'll probably be considering these embracing, comprehensive thoughts rather more deeply, this Christmas, round the hearthfire with my family, than I might had I missed this realistic show.
