Christmas carols

[iansinclair]

Has anyone graded those things in the way other things are graded?  You know, like this one is grade 3, or that one grade 8?

They're all short, of course, but some of them pose some rather interesting technical challenges... (unless you leave out notes, which is cheating).

Also... does anyone else slightly dread going to Christmas parties where you know there will be a piano?  Because one is greeted at the door with some variation on "Oh wonderful!  How nice to see you!  Will you play us some carols?"?

Humbug...

[j_menz]

Has anyone graded those things in the way other things are graded?  You know, like this one is grade 3, or that one grade 8?

Have you just tried to start a rank the Christmas carols in order of difficulty thread? 
No turkey for you this year!

Humbug...

Just say that. They won't ask you to play again.

[indianajo]

By virtue of buying an inoperative organ in 2011 that came with a bench full of sheet music, I came into possession of a 1950's Christmas carol book like was given away at all the dry cleaners and funeral parlors.  I love these arrangements; my Mother played out of one of these in the season, which book my Father threw away after she died.  They sound very like the ones in the hymnals, but in easier keys and with some of the wilder accidentals left out.  I have a fond memory of a mistake in God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen my Mother habitually made.  I don't follow this tradition, only in memory.
I made a copy of these to take on the bus with me to the city where I grew up this month. My brother's family has almost no musical Christmas tradition, not even leaving the radio on during preparation.   But they do have a piano which I rough tuned last visit, and they did actually let me play what I knew as they cooked dinner two years ago.  They are Christian, but their church only allows one hymn sung by a proffessional, and only hymns written by Martin Luther.  He did not write any Christmas carols to my knowledge.    
I went to an former church last Sunday, to hear an 88 year old woman play the traditional carols, while I joyfully missed the jangly Alt-Country mess my own church choir performs for a Christmas cantata.  The old lady is in the rehab facility, being too weak to walk around anymore.  So I played the service, earning the gratitude of the lady who had been drafted to play, the music director, and several members of the congregation who came up and congratulated me afterwards, and asked me to come back.  I got to pick the prelude and postlude which I did out of this dry cleaner's pamphlet, then an informal hymn sing developed inspired by the music director (who doesn't play) where we sang some of his favorites.. Some of them are a bit obscure to me due to the different traditions of the Black church in America, but I sight read okay out of the hymnal, and actually played one carol by ear.  The spirit can inspire you to new and amazing skills sometimes.  I couldn't believe I was picking the chords out of their singing and playing them (with only one hand, I'm not that good).  
As I was standing at the bus stop by the stop sign today, some elegantly coifed black lady in a Lexus or Acura leaned over, gave me a big smile, and waved.  I believe she may have been one of the congregation last Sunday, That church is following the music director in ethnicity, about half black now. Great! Much bigger congregation than when I visited last year.   I love playing these old songs.
I played the charity dinner by center for Lay Ministries two weeks ago, including all of these out of the dry cleaner book, and the only reaction I got from the audience of eaters was some old guy pounding the table in rhythm during Jingle Bells.  I'll take what appreciation I can get.  That is a wonderful Baldwin Acrosonic  piano in the fellowship hall of that downtown church.    
So great, ask me for the old favorites anytime this time of year.  Santa got ***** on by a Reindeer, I can do without, as well as I Saw Mommie Kissing Santa Claus.  The Beach Boy and Elvis covers don't do anything for me, either.  I will go as far as White Christmas, Jingle Bells, Silver Bells, Winter Wonderland, and Frosty the Snow Man.  I did my favorite Holly and the Ivy as arranged by George Winston at the charity dinner, and it flew over the heads of eaters and volunteers both.  Oh, well, my current church stared at the ceiling or windows after I played it there twenty years ago. Much to difficult to listen to, I suppose. It was the hardest transcription from vinyl I have ever done.   Back to the old favorites.  

[iansinclair]

Indianajo -- I enjoy playing for things such as you are mentioning.  The folks are enjoying themselves and paying attention!  It's playing at parties, where one is basically background music that drives me nuts.

I wish you could have met my dad -- his dad (my grandfather) was a circuit riding preacher man, for a while in eastern Kentucky and later in southern Ohio -- and my dad went along to play the hymns.  He never did learn to read music properly, but oh boy could he turn out the hymns and carols!

[indianajo]

Christmas music has gotten to be such a background event at stores, that non-musical people expect to hear it but don't really listen or participate.  A lot of high status people will try to "bring you out" by registering an interest in your interests, but they are just being social after all.  
The only parties I get invited to are church pitch in dinners, like that little Methodist church had last Sunday after the service I played.  Unfortunately, I'm too native Am to participate in those, either.  If one child uses his personal fork to get seconds out of a lukewarm serving dish, I'm out from Wednesday until 10 days later with a respiratory disease.  Even if the kid wasn't sick.  Pity, I'm anti-social enough as it is.  
It sounds as if your Grandfather was a Methodist circuit rider in the mountains.  Methodists were known to be high class enough to give their circuit riders a horse.  They had pianos in church, too.  
I had a great-uncle, who, after his coal mine accident, made a living by walking from Freewill Baptist church to Old Regular Baptist Church, to Church of Christ, to give a sermon in the absence of a regular preacher (which most churches couldn't afford).  
I love the music tradtions that come from that area and time, in particular the songs collected by John Jacob Niles and A.P. Carter, as well as the things the Carter women wrote.  That has morphed into Old Time Fiddle competitions, and Bluegrass music, both of which I enjoy.  But I am a piano player, not a string player, and that is an old time tradition that has to do with shape note hymnals and sing-alongs, and piano playing thumping Baptists Methodists and Prebyterians, proud they were one step ahead of the instrumentless Church of Christ congregations. My Grandfather bought my Mother an awful used "Cincinnatti" piano when she was ten.  She bought herself a decent Everett in 1949 and took a couple of years of lessons, but I am the first in the family to be really good at piano.  It is almost too late for anybody to appreciate the effort.  
I'm writing a novel trying to color in the lines of this old mountain culture, that my ancestors just barely survived in.  I'm lucky to be alive, all the accidents and poverty.  Imagine being a Native American who has lived hunting deer and marmot  and growing corn squash and beans for thousands of years, until the new people came and took all the flat land.  Then all the trees were cut down. Then imagine wandering into a coal camp and trying to get a job. They did it somehow.  i'm stuck at the dialog of the revival camp meeting where my great grandparents might have met.  The meeting was a great success- it lead to Christianity, the European's greatest gift to the natives, and my Grandfather,  Mother, and later but not least, me!
Have a good Christmas.  

[iansinclair]

...
It sounds as if your Grandfather was a Methodist circuit rider in the mountains.  Methodists were known to be high class enough to give their circuit riders a horse.  They had pianos in church, too.

Exactly what he was.  They were a pretty high class outfit -- in 1925, when he moved to Ohio, the circuit got together and got him a Maxwell car, no less!  Of course, they expected him to hit more churches every Sunday that way...

I'll be interested to read your novel, when you get it to that stage!  Fascinating times, fascinating area.