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Pagans and Christians on common ground
Piffaro's Renaissance Christmas
Tom Purdom
Ever since I was a teenager I've heard two standard complaints about our annual end of the year bash. Religious people grumble that we're ignoring "the true meaning of Christmas"; secular people object that Christmas is really just a pagan winter solstice holiday that acquired a religious veneer when Christians imposed their dogmas on happy, tree-worshipping pagans.
Both attitudes simplify a complex reality. Our mix of pagan rite, Christian holy day and All-American shopping spree and party-time has produced an event that's richer than any of its individual elements.
Charles Dickens set the standard for this multifaceted pudding in 1843 when he wrote A Christmas Carol. Dickens created the Christmas card version of Christmas, with street carolers and domestic Christmas trees, but he welded the partying to religious ideals of kindness and good will. Scrooge undergoes a double conversion: He bestows geese and money on the less fortunate when he learns to "keep Christmas"; he also learns to enjoy a good meal and a bit of wassailing for himself.
The latest edition of Piffaro's annual Christmas concert managed to fit all three elements into a single program. It wasn't the most exciting Christmas concert Piffaro has presented but, like Christmas itself, it yielded an overall experience that surpassed its individual parts. All of the songs and texts were five centuries old, at minimum, yet they expressed most of the feelings the denizens of the Microchip Era associate with Christmas.
Gender duel
The program opened with songs and narration that depicted the conflict between the holly and the ivy— a pre-Christian tradition that Piffaro's musicians developed at greater length in a Christmas concert they presented several years ago. Holly represents the masculine force, Ivy the feminine, and they duel with songs and dances that proclaim their virtues.
Co-director Robert Wiemken then shouted, "Let the party begin!" and the first half ended with a round of Renaissance dances played with Piffaro's customary verve and scholarly knowledge of historical performance practice.
The second half opened with songs that emphasized the holiday's religious aspect. The highlight of this section— and the weightiest interlude of the evening— was a text for "Tomorrow Shall be My Dancing Day" that was probably associated with a medieval morality play. The ten verses tell the complete story of the life of Christ, from birth through the crucifixion and resurrection. Laura Heimes's moving performance should have reassured any Calvinist that First Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill hadn't become the site of a purely pagan and secular event.
New Year's vs. Christmas
The last section moved the proceedings to the turn of the year. Heimes produced another lovely moment when she sang a Welsh New Year's song, "Soon the hoar old year will leave us," in the traditional way, with Christa Patton playing each line on her harp in between the lines sung by Heimes. The song is a gentler version of "Deck the Halls," and Piffaro followed it by inviting the audience to belt out the better known words while the musicians blasted away on shawms, sackbuts, percussion and other convivial noisemakers.
The evening ended with a set of variations on "Greensleeves" that concluded with a 16th-Century text, "The old yeare now away has fled." "Greensleeves" much-abused melody has attracted a number of texts over the centuries. This was the best I've encountered.
As a purely secular person, I've always felt the New Year and its songs were just as important as our Christmas customs. At the end of our modern mishmash, we put aside religious dogmas and moral diatribes to focus on our common humanity. We celebrate the fact that we've survived another year and contemplate the next act with hope and a touch of courage. The anonymous author of "Soon the hoar old year will leave us" may have lived more than 500 years ago, but he left us words we can all understand:
Soon the hoar old year will leave us
But the parting must not grieve us
When the New Year comes tomorrow,
Let him find no trace of sorrow.
He our pleasures may redouble,
He may bring us store of trouble.
Hope the best and gaily meet him,
With a jovial chorus greet him.
Both attitudes simplify a complex reality. Our mix of pagan rite, Christian holy day and All-American shopping spree and party-time has produced an event that's richer than any of its individual elements.
Charles Dickens set the standard for this multifaceted pudding in 1843 when he wrote A Christmas Carol. Dickens created the Christmas card version of Christmas, with street carolers and domestic Christmas trees, but he welded the partying to religious ideals of kindness and good will. Scrooge undergoes a double conversion: He bestows geese and money on the less fortunate when he learns to "keep Christmas"; he also learns to enjoy a good meal and a bit of wassailing for himself.
The latest edition of Piffaro's annual Christmas concert managed to fit all three elements into a single program. It wasn't the most exciting Christmas concert Piffaro has presented but, like Christmas itself, it yielded an overall experience that surpassed its individual parts. All of the songs and texts were five centuries old, at minimum, yet they expressed most of the feelings the denizens of the Microchip Era associate with Christmas.
Gender duel
The program opened with songs and narration that depicted the conflict between the holly and the ivy— a pre-Christian tradition that Piffaro's musicians developed at greater length in a Christmas concert they presented several years ago. Holly represents the masculine force, Ivy the feminine, and they duel with songs and dances that proclaim their virtues.
Co-director Robert Wiemken then shouted, "Let the party begin!" and the first half ended with a round of Renaissance dances played with Piffaro's customary verve and scholarly knowledge of historical performance practice.
The second half opened with songs that emphasized the holiday's religious aspect. The highlight of this section— and the weightiest interlude of the evening— was a text for "Tomorrow Shall be My Dancing Day" that was probably associated with a medieval morality play. The ten verses tell the complete story of the life of Christ, from birth through the crucifixion and resurrection. Laura Heimes's moving performance should have reassured any Calvinist that First Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill hadn't become the site of a purely pagan and secular event.
New Year's vs. Christmas
The last section moved the proceedings to the turn of the year. Heimes produced another lovely moment when she sang a Welsh New Year's song, "Soon the hoar old year will leave us," in the traditional way, with Christa Patton playing each line on her harp in between the lines sung by Heimes. The song is a gentler version of "Deck the Halls," and Piffaro followed it by inviting the audience to belt out the better known words while the musicians blasted away on shawms, sackbuts, percussion and other convivial noisemakers.
The evening ended with a set of variations on "Greensleeves" that concluded with a 16th-Century text, "The old yeare now away has fled." "Greensleeves" much-abused melody has attracted a number of texts over the centuries. This was the best I've encountered.
As a purely secular person, I've always felt the New Year and its songs were just as important as our Christmas customs. At the end of our modern mishmash, we put aside religious dogmas and moral diatribes to focus on our common humanity. We celebrate the fact that we've survived another year and contemplate the next act with hope and a touch of courage. The anonymous author of "Soon the hoar old year will leave us" may have lived more than 500 years ago, but he left us words we can all understand:
Soon the hoar old year will leave us
But the parting must not grieve us
When the New Year comes tomorrow,
Let him find no trace of sorrow.
He our pleasures may redouble,
He may bring us store of trouble.
Hope the best and gaily meet him,
With a jovial chorus greet him.
What, When, Where
Piffaro: “Drive the Cold Winter Away.†Carols, ballads and dances from 15th- and 16th-Century English texts. Laura Heimes, guest soprano; Robert Wiemken and Joan Kimball, co-directors. December 17, 2010 at First Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill. (215) 235-8469 or www.piffaro.com.
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