For those of you asking, “What the heck is Tuba Christmas?”, it’s a concert where many (sometimes many, many) tuba players (baritones, Sousaphones, and orchestral tubas) gather together and share Christmas songs with the general public. Concerts take place in several states (and internationally, I believe). Sunday’s NYC performance was a bit different from others I’ve seen. First things first, there was no Rockefeller Center Tuba Christmas performance last December (damn you, Covid!). Also different this year was where the tubists performed. They were still on the plaza, but not on a platform built out over the ice rink. And there were fewer tubists than in years past; still, there were slightly more than two hundred this year. So, the sound wasn’t quite as impressive (though those two hundred gave it their all). When they are on a platform over the ice, the sound really rings out as though it’s coming from a canyon (well, duh, because it is). That said, I really enjoyed it, and the assembled crowd/audience did too.
The old-chestnut songs and hymns were well represented—Adeste
Fideles; We Three Kings; Good King Wenceslaus Looked Out; Silent Night; Angels
We Have Heard on High; God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen, etc. (I’m probably
forgetting some; I didn’t take notes.) And while I didn’t stay all the way
through, the up tempo Jingle Bells was high on my list of fun favorites. As
always, the audience was encouraged to sing along after the brass had played
through each song the first time. As always, it was hit or miss. As always, it
was still fun.
From some running commentary, we gleaned that this was the
48th NYC Tuba Christmas (not 48th Annual—see “damn you, Covid!” above). The
youngest tubist was twelve; the oldest was seventy-four. The one who traveled
the farthest came from (I think) Seattle, WA—definitely a west-coaster.
Will I go again? Possibly. At least the weather was very pleasant this year, though my feet did start getting a little chilly. Am I glad I went this year? You bet! Any return to a sense of normalcy after the hell that was 2020 is something to be celebrated. Go, ye, and celebrate too!
ConcertMeister
(p.s. Did I mention the tree?)
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