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Christmas Concerts and beyond
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Tisdale
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Every year the first day back from vacation almost every teacher has their students write about “what I did on my summer holidays,’ and just as assuredly that there will be halloween and valentines day, no North American school could imagine not having a Christmas concert. In some places the word Christmas has been omitted, but not the concert. Teachers put a lot of effort into the production and parents do their part, while the children view the whole process with the acceptance of snow and dandelions.
With three grand daughters we get to see the good ole concert from a different angle and with one grand daughter going to a Catholic school in Winnipeg and another to a public school in Regina, we get a cross section of just what the concert of 2014 is like. First impression is that very little has changed, in that the kids are in their best clothes, the teacher is nervous and the parents are proud, but on the other hand some things have really changed.
In the public school setting, the items in the concert are almost exclusively in an almost invented secure religion of its own. A world of snowmen, jack frost, santa claus and a goofy reindeer with an illuminated nose. The legends and mythes of the secure Christmas are just as loaded with dogma and morals as the Christmas of old, but fake.
In the Catholic school concert, the carols are indeed the main feature, but I chuckled as I watched a video clip of their concert and perched at the front of the choral group was a pirate guy looking very much like Pirates of Caribbean Captain Jack Sparrow as the students sang, “I saw three ships come sailing in.”
Just as in the concerts of my memory, there is humour and almost in every instance, a deep and abiding attempt to make this a fun and memorable experience.
Let me tell you about one of my first Christmas concerts a very long time ago. I had been in earlier concerts, but I may have been six when I was scheduled to do a solo.
It was a very cold and storm winter night in 1950, in the tiny hamlet of Kelso, Saskatchewan. The concert was not held in the two room Greenbank School but was in the United Church, which was in the neighbouring yard to our house.
It is important to get some idea of what Kelso’s United Church was like. It was a fairly tall wood structure without a steeple and the ceiling was “v” joint wood against the peeked roof. From the two isles of pews you could gaze up to where the ceiling formed a “v” high above and in order to hold the structure together, there were steel rods anchored to the walls spanning the space and connected to the opposing wall since there were no horizontal rafters. Those steel rods had turnbuckles on them that allowed for them to be adjusted and tighten to hold the north wall and the south wall in check and thus keep the roof in place above. The church had some colour to its windows, it may have been stained glass, but more likely, coloured material on the glass, to make it look like that. Everything was wood and varnish, including the floor. At the front of the church was a small stage and for the concert there were some temporary walls to create the area for the concert.
I remember those walls very clearly. My mother had worked very hard rehearsing her little boy and father had been on hand for the last few run threws of the number. But, there I was back stage, behind the wall on a two step stairway in the deepest of mortal panic in my life. Now we have all heard of stage fright, it is a fact of life for every performer no matter how famous or talented, that moment before you go “on” is the moment of truth and for me it was pretty much the same sort of feeling one might experience as they put the hood over your head before a firing squad. Mother was with me and I was crying, father came to assure me and lend some firm motivation there may have been a threat involved. I am not sure of what was being said, I just remember the terror and mother clearing away my tears so I would be able to emerge onto the stage before the standing room only church.
Now between that moment of sobbing and panic, I was able to get out there and like every performer before me, the show took over. I knew my song and now it was time to get it over with. “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” was never, nor has it ever been, performed as well and the sound of the applause, forever, I thought, put out the flames of stage fright.
About stage fright, it affects everyone very differently. For me that night long ago it was the minutes before the song, but there are some truly unfortunate, often cocky confident types, who have no fear, or hesitation as they march into the oblivion of staring out into a sea of faces, through makeshift stage lights and the aroma of a Christmas tree. Indeed at some point in some performance, I have momentarily forgotten a line, but I have not “frozen.” Freezing up at the sight of a crowd and emotion that causes the most enormous total lose of voice and mobility, is a killer. From that, a performer is truly trapped and definitely for many, that is their last appearance on stage. However, for those of us who get the jitters before hand, or in some cases people will be so upset they throw up, the cure is getting out there and doing your thing and the applause drowns little, by little, every fear for every time thereafter.
Now, sixty-four years later, that time before the song is the big memory, not the applause.Two years later and not at a Christmas concert my fears arose once more, but the lesson from that December night, made it possible for me to do my part, even though the odds were enormous.
We had moved to Langbank at the end of grade two and Langbank was only slightly bigger, but it was a little less backward. Langbank had electricity and our school participated in the school district drama festivals. Each year one of the various country schools in our area would act as the host and each school would send their play to compete. I was in grade four or five and my teacher knew I could sing. In fact our principal was the church organist and I was in the junior choir. If you have an ear for music, some little boys have angelic voices and choir leaders love that sound. In my case my voice was clear and I had a bit of a flare, after all I was a veteran of doing “all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.”
So dear friends once again I was on a small stairway leading to the back stage at the community hall in Poplar Grove school district, north and a bit east of Langbank. I was dressed in my costume and about to take my place on stage. My mom was with me, cleaning up the tears and trying not to smudge the make-up. Yes folks you got that right, I was wearing make up and that’s not all. I had some nice shoes, white stockings, a fluffy crinoline under my flouncy full skirted blue dress, I was clutching a wicker basket and in my other hand was the damnedest shepherd’s crock, dad made from a broom stick with a coat hanger twisted into a crook and covered with brown tissue paper, I also had a golden blond wig with curls and some sort of a blue bonnet with a ribbon holding it in place under my chin; I was Little Bo Peep.
I had never told my wife about my performance as Little Bow Peep until a week ago, something a guy just doesn’t want to remember. But, there I was, the boys mostly from other school districts had taken great pains to laugh at my get up and I was sure the same would happen when I went out onto the stage. My mother was the solid rock in my life for every time I performed and she was there saying the right things and I summoned up my strength and I went on stage. What is funny now, is that I can remember little or nothing of the show, but I was the best damn Little Bo Peep ever and just as the toothless song had its reward, our school and our little play, was the show of shows. Little Bo Peep was a triumph.
So many like to quote that saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” It originated with the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and the line was a major part in one of singer Kelly Clarkson’s albums. But, it is more than just a saying. We all can profit enormously from our mistakes and in many cases the most formative learning experience you can have involve taking a risk and building upon that experience.
As a singer I had my good times and one not so good. At about eleven going twelve things got pretty rough, the bell clear boy soprano voice turned into a completely unpredictable bunch of static. I could not predict what sound would emerge when I went to say something. The up side of that was that one of the things I really like to do, was imitate the voices I heard on radio and television. I preferred the preachers, Billy Graham, Ernest C. Manning and even Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, my crackling voice was fun for a while, but with just the hint of whiskers, it vanished and my time as a crooner began.
From the time I was thirteen, I was at work almost every week preparing for a music festival, or church service. I did weddings and funerals so that to this day, I have little recollection of all those events. I competed in talent contests and performed on the street for Regina’s buffalo days and even after graduation did music in college and began doing folk singing “hootenannies” on summer evenings at Kenosee Lake, where one night, I met my wife. All of that and the band I had when I was first married and the gigs in did in bars and working as a music teacher, all came from that first concert in Kelso.
Oh yes, let me tell you about the worst time. All of those times in front of an audience did not prepare me for the cold distain of an indifferent audience. Certainly, there are times working in a bar you will find a number going flat, but never a whole gig. Shortly, after moving to Tisdale, I offered to do a few numbers at the Golden Age Centre. At first it seemed like they were just a tough audience and then I realised this was a humiliating experience. Without a doubt, the worse audience ever were those folks at the Tisdale Golden Age Centre. Their unresponsive, dull faces and complete disinterest crushed me. I put my guitar in its case that day and left it there until the summer before last. Gradually, I am playing now a little more each month, usually about once a week, but never do I let that repulsive experience of singing in Tisdale slip away.
I guess what I am telling you is that just as a success in a risky situation can push you forward, freezing up on stage, or singing for Tisdale people, can be the death knell to future adventure.
So let’s consider the annual Christmas concert and where it fits into the scheme of things.
Every single teacher knows the risk that they are taking and they also are very well aware of the positive affect that a Christmas concert can have on the students in their class. Building self confidence and getting some variety into one’s achievement list, is what the concert is all about. Certainly, the caution is needed to deal with possible negative affects. Stage fright is not a bad thing, but you really have to build into every performance an escape hatch for the sudden freeze up. A hostile crowd like what you might experience at the Tisdale Golden Age Centre is simply not in the cards for a Christmas concert, because parents adore seeing their kids take the challenge and they are rooting for them from start to finish.
There are a couple of things that my wife and I have noted about modern Christmas concerts. I would like to see more solos. I know the risk is higher, but the benefit is well worth that risk. The second thing is something that Judy pointed out as we talked about this, and she feels that recitation, either solo or a small group, is a huge confidence builder and prepares a person to meet the challenge of speaking in public. The spoken word can and is, a powerful thing and committing great words and phrases to memory, is something to build a life upon.
One of the characteristics of Christmas concerts for many teachers was always to have a drill. I was never a fan but for the non-singer and participation activity, the old fashion drill was just the ticket. In my Regina grand daughter’s concert one class presented a cool number with a group of kids doing “jingle bells” with basket balls. So action in a concert is not just something that happened in the past.
If you did not make it to a concert this year click on this link and you can see Aurora’ Shire’s concert at George Lee Public school in Regina, all fifty-two minutes of it, as Matthew has put it on line.
When I was a kid and for all the years I was a principal, one of the main features of the Christmas concert, was the candy bag. I don’t know how the tradition began, but it was a solid part of every concert I attended as a kid and I suspect it is a rare thing in city schools today. The contents of the bag was predictable and something to savour even in one’s memory. Some hard candy, a couple of chocolates, a handful of peanuts and a mandarin orange, all in a brown paper bag. Indeed those were the good ole days.
This is Christmas, tomorrow we join the rest of our family in Regina to share the great day together. We will have a wonderful time. Father will eat blue cheese and oysters, we will enjoy the aroma of the Christmas pudding and the hands of cards, there will be some political debate and a great deal of laughter. May you and your family have a truly wonderful Christmas and get back to Ensign in a week’s time to see the predictions for the coming year.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Every year the first day back from vacation almost every teacher has their students write about “what I did on my summer holidays,’ and just as assuredly that there will be halloween and valentines day, no North American school could imagine not having a Christmas concert. In some places the word Christmas has been omitted, but not the concert. Teachers put a lot of effort into the production and parents do their part, while the children view the whole process with the acceptance of snow and dandelions.
With three grand daughters we get to see the good ole concert from a different angle and with one grand daughter going to a Catholic school in Winnipeg and another to a public school in Regina, we get a cross section of just what the concert of 2014 is like. First impression is that very little has changed, in that the kids are in their best clothes, the teacher is nervous and the parents are proud, but on the other hand some things have really changed.
In the public school setting, the items in the concert are almost exclusively in an almost invented secure religion of its own. A world of snowmen, jack frost, santa claus and a goofy reindeer with an illuminated nose. The legends and mythes of the secure Christmas are just as loaded with dogma and morals as the Christmas of old, but fake.
In the Catholic school concert, the carols are indeed the main feature, but I chuckled as I watched a video clip of their concert and perched at the front of the choral group was a pirate guy looking very much like Pirates of Caribbean Captain Jack Sparrow as the students sang, “I saw three ships come sailing in.”
Just as in the concerts of my memory, there is humour and almost in every instance, a deep and abiding attempt to make this a fun and memorable experience.
Let me tell you about one of my first Christmas concerts a very long time ago. I had been in earlier concerts, but I may have been six when I was scheduled to do a solo.
It was a very cold and storm winter night in 1950, in the tiny hamlet of Kelso, Saskatchewan. The concert was not held in the two room Greenbank School but was in the United Church, which was in the neighbouring yard to our house.
It is important to get some idea of what Kelso’s United Church was like. It was a fairly tall wood structure without a steeple and the ceiling was “v” joint wood against the peeked roof. From the two isles of pews you could gaze up to where the ceiling formed a “v” high above and in order to hold the structure together, there were steel rods anchored to the walls spanning the space and connected to the opposing wall since there were no horizontal rafters. Those steel rods had turnbuckles on them that allowed for them to be adjusted and tighten to hold the north wall and the south wall in check and thus keep the roof in place above. The church had some colour to its windows, it may have been stained glass, but more likely, coloured material on the glass, to make it look like that. Everything was wood and varnish, including the floor. At the front of the church was a small stage and for the concert there were some temporary walls to create the area for the concert.
I remember those walls very clearly. My mother had worked very hard rehearsing her little boy and father had been on hand for the last few run threws of the number. But, there I was back stage, behind the wall on a two step stairway in the deepest of mortal panic in my life. Now we have all heard of stage fright, it is a fact of life for every performer no matter how famous or talented, that moment before you go “on” is the moment of truth and for me it was pretty much the same sort of feeling one might experience as they put the hood over your head before a firing squad. Mother was with me and I was crying, father came to assure me and lend some firm motivation there may have been a threat involved. I am not sure of what was being said, I just remember the terror and mother clearing away my tears so I would be able to emerge onto the stage before the standing room only church.
Now between that moment of sobbing and panic, I was able to get out there and like every performer before me, the show took over. I knew my song and now it was time to get it over with. “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” was never, nor has it ever been, performed as well and the sound of the applause, forever, I thought, put out the flames of stage fright.
About stage fright, it affects everyone very differently. For me that night long ago it was the minutes before the song, but there are some truly unfortunate, often cocky confident types, who have no fear, or hesitation as they march into the oblivion of staring out into a sea of faces, through makeshift stage lights and the aroma of a Christmas tree. Indeed at some point in some performance, I have momentarily forgotten a line, but I have not “frozen.” Freezing up at the sight of a crowd and emotion that causes the most enormous total lose of voice and mobility, is a killer. From that, a performer is truly trapped and definitely for many, that is their last appearance on stage. However, for those of us who get the jitters before hand, or in some cases people will be so upset they throw up, the cure is getting out there and doing your thing and the applause drowns little, by little, every fear for every time thereafter.
Now, sixty-four years later, that time before the song is the big memory, not the applause.Two years later and not at a Christmas concert my fears arose once more, but the lesson from that December night, made it possible for me to do my part, even though the odds were enormous.
We had moved to Langbank at the end of grade two and Langbank was only slightly bigger, but it was a little less backward. Langbank had electricity and our school participated in the school district drama festivals. Each year one of the various country schools in our area would act as the host and each school would send their play to compete. I was in grade four or five and my teacher knew I could sing. In fact our principal was the church organist and I was in the junior choir. If you have an ear for music, some little boys have angelic voices and choir leaders love that sound. In my case my voice was clear and I had a bit of a flare, after all I was a veteran of doing “all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.”
So dear friends once again I was on a small stairway leading to the back stage at the community hall in Poplar Grove school district, north and a bit east of Langbank. I was dressed in my costume and about to take my place on stage. My mom was with me, cleaning up the tears and trying not to smudge the make-up. Yes folks you got that right, I was wearing make up and that’s not all. I had some nice shoes, white stockings, a fluffy crinoline under my flouncy full skirted blue dress, I was clutching a wicker basket and in my other hand was the damnedest shepherd’s crock, dad made from a broom stick with a coat hanger twisted into a crook and covered with brown tissue paper, I also had a golden blond wig with curls and some sort of a blue bonnet with a ribbon holding it in place under my chin; I was Little Bo Peep.
I had never told my wife about my performance as Little Bow Peep until a week ago, something a guy just doesn’t want to remember. But, there I was, the boys mostly from other school districts had taken great pains to laugh at my get up and I was sure the same would happen when I went out onto the stage. My mother was the solid rock in my life for every time I performed and she was there saying the right things and I summoned up my strength and I went on stage. What is funny now, is that I can remember little or nothing of the show, but I was the best damn Little Bo Peep ever and just as the toothless song had its reward, our school and our little play, was the show of shows. Little Bo Peep was a triumph.
So many like to quote that saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” It originated with the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and the line was a major part in one of singer Kelly Clarkson’s albums. But, it is more than just a saying. We all can profit enormously from our mistakes and in many cases the most formative learning experience you can have involve taking a risk and building upon that experience.
From the time I was thirteen, I was at work almost every week preparing for a music festival, or church service. I did weddings and funerals so that to this day, I have little recollection of all those events. I competed in talent contests and performed on the street for Regina’s buffalo days and even after graduation did music in college and began doing folk singing “hootenannies” on summer evenings at Kenosee Lake, where one night, I met my wife. All of that and the band I had when I was first married and the gigs in did in bars and working as a music teacher, all came from that first concert in Kelso.
Oh yes, let me tell you about the worst time. All of those times in front of an audience did not prepare me for the cold distain of an indifferent audience. Certainly, there are times working in a bar you will find a number going flat, but never a whole gig. Shortly, after moving to Tisdale, I offered to do a few numbers at the Golden Age Centre. At first it seemed like they were just a tough audience and then I realised this was a humiliating experience. Without a doubt, the worse audience ever were those folks at the Tisdale Golden Age Centre. Their unresponsive, dull faces and complete disinterest crushed me. I put my guitar in its case that day and left it there until the summer before last. Gradually, I am playing now a little more each month, usually about once a week, but never do I let that repulsive experience of singing in Tisdale slip away.
I guess what I am telling you is that just as a success in a risky situation can push you forward, freezing up on stage, or singing for Tisdale people, can be the death knell to future adventure.
So let’s consider the annual Christmas concert and where it fits into the scheme of things.
Every single teacher knows the risk that they are taking and they also are very well aware of the positive affect that a Christmas concert can have on the students in their class. Building self confidence and getting some variety into one’s achievement list, is what the concert is all about. Certainly, the caution is needed to deal with possible negative affects. Stage fright is not a bad thing, but you really have to build into every performance an escape hatch for the sudden freeze up. A hostile crowd like what you might experience at the Tisdale Golden Age Centre is simply not in the cards for a Christmas concert, because parents adore seeing their kids take the challenge and they are rooting for them from start to finish.
There are a couple of things that my wife and I have noted about modern Christmas concerts. I would like to see more solos. I know the risk is higher, but the benefit is well worth that risk. The second thing is something that Judy pointed out as we talked about this, and she feels that recitation, either solo or a small group, is a huge confidence builder and prepares a person to meet the challenge of speaking in public. The spoken word can and is, a powerful thing and committing great words and phrases to memory, is something to build a life upon.
One of the characteristics of Christmas concerts for many teachers was always to have a drill. I was never a fan but for the non-singer and participation activity, the old fashion drill was just the ticket. In my Regina grand daughter’s concert one class presented a cool number with a group of kids doing “jingle bells” with basket balls. So action in a concert is not just something that happened in the past.
When I was a kid and for all the years I was a principal, one of the main features of the Christmas concert, was the candy bag. I don’t know how the tradition began, but it was a solid part of every concert I attended as a kid and I suspect it is a rare thing in city schools today. The contents of the bag was predictable and something to savour even in one’s memory. Some hard candy, a couple of chocolates, a handful of peanuts and a mandarin orange, all in a brown paper bag. Indeed those were the good ole days.
This is Christmas, tomorrow we join the rest of our family in Regina to share the great day together. We will have a wonderful time. Father will eat blue cheese and oysters, we will enjoy the aroma of the Christmas pudding and the hands of cards, there will be some political debate and a great deal of laughter. May you and your family have a truly wonderful Christmas and get back to Ensign in a week’s time to see the predictions for the coming year.
Merry Christmas everyone.
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