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“But, Auntie Mame,…” Thoughts on Christmas in July
Some of you may remember the iconic “We Need a Little Christmas” scene if you are familiar with the musical Mame by Jerry Herman. In the scene, Mame decides she needs some cheering, and hands out Christmas presents to everyone, at which point Agnes exclaims, “It says in the paper 16 shopping days until!” As in, “hey, it’s way too early for Christmas cheer, lady.” At least, that was the original line in the musical. Nowadays, Christmas merchandise is on the shelves sometime around if not before Halloween – perhaps by the time you are reading this the Christmas merchandise will start appearing around Labor Day. In light of that, most productions will make that line more realistic (if anacrhonistic to the setting of the play) in light of modern-day “Christmas Creep.”
I’m here to tell you, Christmas Creep is a totally different beast for your average choral director.
Tim Mossholder photo, Christmas lights, unsplash Or pic of store shelves
You may get a little annoyed or dismayed when you see the lights and decorations for sale at your local Target in, say, October. I feel your pain. But, if I were adjusting the lines of that scene in Mame, it would have to read something like
“But, Auntie Mame, it’s two weeks until the Fourth of July now!”
Because…
Those choral directors who have choruses who perform concerts with holiday music have to pick it long before December. In fact, with OurSong, we start the music selection process toward the end of each June. We narrow our choices, order the music, start preparing to teach it when it is hotter than you-know-what down here in the Southland. We start rehearsing this music with our group usually at the end of August or early September. Then it is rehearsals, sectionals, practice recordings, retreats, etc., FULL of holiday music.
We tend to program our holiday concerts with music that is mostly Christmas related, a blend of sacred and secular, and we always have some other traditions represented as well. Those selections that are modern, unique, having to do with Mother Mary, or traditions other than Christian traditions are not typically the ones that get under my skin.
At the risk of sounding like the Choral Nerd Grinch who stole the tinsel, I will candidly tell you I have a clinically diagnosable Christmas music fatigue. I am already aware this opinion will be unpopular. Someone always asks, usually as they are blissfully rocking out to “Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney while they are purchasing band-aids at their corner drugstore, in, say, November or early December, “Oh, I just love Christmas music, don’t you?” Well, by that time I have been up to my armpits in Glorias and In Excelsis Deos and Santa Claus is Comings for 5 months already. So, in that moment, I would have to equivocate. At least internally.
We could spare ourselves this madness by simply programming the same concert each holiday. Then we could shave off a few months of the cheerful songs about messiahs and lights in the darkness, and the somber songs about new birth and snow scenes. (Again, the emphasis on snow when Georgia temperatures are in the 90s – if we are lucky – and too humid and hot to even think a thought outside is a stark contrast that I find striking. Only Every. Single. Year.) But that is not how we roll.
Robert and I have always been very careful, intentional curators of the music. By this, I mean that we take our music selection very seriously, and strive to create concerts that are cohesive, challenging for the musicians, and always meaningful for our audiences. Yes, we select songs to keep the interest of our singers and audience, but we also select music to keep our interest as well. That said, I shan’t really complain about all that Christmas music. We find a way to keep it fresh for us as directors; we have to, that is our call. If we don’t love every single piece in a program, we shouldn’t be subjecting our choirs to it. It’s that simple. That is a lesson I learned from my conducting professor in college, and it stays with me. If there is something I feel lukewarm about, it will be much harder for that song to be a success for the singers, and it will probably fall flat with the audience, too. Even if I don’t love it immediately, the potential for love has to be there, in which we can quickly blossom into loving the piece, or else it simply is not worth doing.
So come July 4th, while you are celebrating the nation’s independence by eating watermelon and shooing mosquitos away at your neighbor’s pool party, consider us. You may think we are rushing things, but we will already be considering if we should Deck the Hall in ⅞ time, or more traditionally with John Rutter. Haul out the holly, y’all. I wouldn’t have it any other way.