Louise T. Guinther

Some of you may be of the opinion that by the fifth of January, I should have moved on to the sounds of the next season, though I’m not quite sure what that might be — the waltzes of the Vienna Philharmonic’s New Year’s Celebration? (Yes, I did enjoy that, though Christian Thielemann has none of the insouciant charm of Carlos Kleiber.) Or maybe the crunching of bones in a college bowl game? (We watched those too, all day on Jan. 1).

In my household, however, we insist on all twelve days of Christmas, and the festive sounds emanate from our stereo right up until midnight tonight. So on the twelfth day of Christmas, dear friends, I give to you the arrangements of William Ryden, a great composer and champion of ragtime music, a genius of rhythm and harmony, and an altogether adorable guy. When I was a kid, Bill masterminded a series of really lovely Christmas concerts at the Community House in Forest Hills, which then reappeared, somewhat transformed, as outdoor Christmas Eve musicales in Station Square.

Bill’s charm and brilliance attracted a following of singers, both amateur and professional, that allowed him to present his enchanting versions of beloved carols in performances that were worthy of the material. The volunteer chorus always felt honored to be entrusted with Bill’s music and allowed to share the stage with the spectacular soloists. On the occasion represented here, they included sopranos Sharon Forrester and June Semerjian (sp?), tenor John Vining, bass Lynn Nickerson and an extraordinary mezzo named Martha whose last name I’m ashamed to say I can’t remember. (Is there anyone out there who can?) Accompanied by the fleet-fingered and unflappable Phil Martorella on piano, they frolic through Bill’s intricate syncopations and crunchy chords with ease. Bill’s favorite numbers, as I recall, were “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and “Lully Lullay.” Mine are “Deck the Halls,” for festive spirit and truly original (not to say crazy) variations; “Long Time Ago in Bethlehem,” by Jester Hairston, who was an idol of Bill’s; and Bill’s own “Rejoice and Be Merry,” an incomparably joyful anthem without which no Christmas in my household would be complete.