Today's LP is tons of lively fun, at least to my ears, and it has a very vernacular character. I'm using that word in the sense of common, ordinary, everyday. (In fact, I personally prefer the phrase "vernacular culture" over "popular culture," especially since many folks don't quite grasp "popular.") We could say that the concept of "popular" doesn't register on a popular level, which is quite ironic. But I think it's a case of people being too close (so to speak) to the reality to see it. Too close to their own culture and cultural values to regard them objectively. Because, after all, popular culture is OUR collective culture. Most culture is popular, by definition, but a lot of people don't like that word, especially when it's shortened to "pop." "Why, I don't listen to pop! That's for kids. I listen to serious/alternative/progressive rock." It's basically a case of "Your pop is pop, but my pop is something better." It's the common human arrogance of believing that things familiar and dear to US are special by default, whereas things familiar and dear to others are just... things they like, and who cares. Nothing to be ashamed of, because we all share that fault. It's probably a matter of evolutionary biology. Our best and worst human features are products of same.
And, so, I favor "vernacular culture" to "popular culture," because it emphasizes the fact that popular culture is the culture of everyone (aka the people), even as it sponsors any number of discrete cultural traditions. And you didn't come here to listen to me babbling away on this subject. You came to listen to this delightful and very vernacular (did I mention vernacular?) collection of amateur-choir selections unmatched for their energy, sincerity, and enthusiasm. These folks love the music, and that love just pours out of the grooves. I could see it radiating from the turntable as I ripped this. Which has me thinking I need a new optical prescription. (Or that maybe a couple of my prescriptions aren't getting along correctly.)
The Guardian Angels choir, at the time, was made up of sixty members of the then-small Guardian Angels church (actually, there were two choirs--the adult and the boys--but on this LP they join forces). According to the church's online "About Us" essay, "In 1964, the undercroft was used for Sunday Masses while our church building was being completed." (It was completed in 1971.) So, where exactly was the choir recorded? In the undercroft, in some part of the uncompleted church, in another church, in a studio, or...? The jacket only tells us that it was recorded in Cincinnati, which we already know, since Mt. Washington is part of same. I'd love to know the location of the recording, because it would confirm where Guardian Angels operations were happening prior to the completion of their current church in 1971 (there is some confusion between the online account and the back-jacket notes). It would also help if I were Catholic, because then I could properly distinguish between "church" and "parish." But I'm a mainline Protestant, so...
I tend to not care for amateur choirs singing material beyond their ability, but on this LP, those moments are rather charming. Something to do with those plus points (is that a term?) I mentioned already: enthusiasm, love of the material, a joyous tone. Nothing solemn about this program.
The audio quality is especially fine. And I'm guessing the year to be 1968 or 1969, by cross-dating "CFS-2036" to other Custom Fidelity Company releases. Musical notes: Ring Christmas Bells is best known as Carol of the Bells, and nothing beats this masterpiece as originally written--and anything which can survive an assault by the (gag) Trans-Siberian Orchestra and still sound great is an amazing piece, indeed. And Bells, unfortunately, is easily reduced to imbecility, since it's basically a matter of building up a single phrase. Take away the ingenious contrapuntal trappings, and you have that lone phrase over and over. (No, I'm not a Trans-Siberian "Orchestra" fan. How did you guess? I might even pay not to see them.) And the "J. Stainer" credited for four selections was actually the publisher of an early, very significant 19th century carol/hymn collection--hence, I've credited him as an arranger, though he did compose the four-part (SATB) setting for one of the traditional titles ("traditional" meaning "We don't know who penned it"). And Joy to the World, its famous text by (of course) the brilliant Isaac Watts, is credited, tune-wise, to Handel on the jacket, but Handel experts have decided there's actually no Handel connection. Rather, we have a tune, Antioch, of (far as I know) unknown authorship, in an arrangement by Lowell Mason. Now you know. Anyway, I'm happy that this 1968/1969 performance by hard-working, holiday-loving volunteer church members was preserved for discovery in a local Goodwill. It befits the holiday, because Christmas (despite its being politicized to death by both the left and right) is the holiday of the people, celebrated by billions across our planet. It's our species' biggest shindig, basically. Contrary to current PC mentality, Christmas has more than earned its preeminent status (and therefore shouldn't be dissed for its status as THE solstice observance), having evolved over a period of seventeen (or so) centuries into the event we know today. Those intent on finding something "wrong" with the festival are... well, disturbed. Culturally clueless. And why don't they just go out and create a massively popular "secular" observance that ranks with the famous one? I mean, if it's so easy, why don't they give it a try? Sure, it may require any number of centuries, but...
Do I editorialize ay my blog? Nope, not me.
Oh, and organist-director J. Donald Barrett arranged Go Tell It on the Mountain and the lovely Sleep, Holy Babe. And he wrote the boys-choir descant to Joy to the World (the upper obbligato-style melody line). The liner notes credit Donald with getting the choir off the ground, and I admire people with such a gift for inspiring enthusiastic participation. It's a rare talent. Join me as we travel into the realm of the ordinary, to the shared-values zone, to a place beyond elitist bias. The Vernacular Zone!
DOWNLOAD: Christmas at Guardian Angels, 1968 or 1969.
Ring Christmas Bells
Joy to the World
Go Tell It on the Mountain
O Holy Night
Deck the Halls
Away in a Manger
We Wish You a Merry Christmas
Fanfare
Wassail Song
Silent Night
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming
Angels We Have Heard on High
Virgin and Child
The First Nowell
We Wish You a Merry Christmas
Christmas at Guardian Angels (Custome Fidelity CFS-2036; 1968 or 1969)--Adult and Boys Choir, Dir. By J. Donald Barrett, Organist, 1968 or 1969. My. Washington, Ohio.
Lee
3 comments:
Interesting, very interesting. And that may be an RCA pressing code shown on the label, though it's not quite in the standard format. If it is, then the L would indicate 1960, and the 8 would mean a client-provided recording. Just a thought since that would seem to be earlier than you're pegging it, and since it's stereo, that would be really early for amateur field recording. So maybe it's not an RCA pressing. Anyhow, thanks for sharing!
Seems you had as much fun writing this delightful post as the choir did singing the music. I loved it!
Ernie,
An RCA custom pressing had occurred to me, too, but the liner notes were written at least as late as 1968. Where did you get the info on the function of the second character (8)? All I've been able to find is information on the year codes.
Diane,
Thank you!
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