Bright Day Star:
Old Carols and Dance Tunes from the British Isles, Germany & Appalachia

The Baltimore Consort
Total time: 67:19
Dorian DOR-90198

Summary for the Busy Executive: Then hay for Christmas once a year!

I confess that a large part of the appeal of Christmas for me lies in
the depth of its roots. I hear an old carol or think of the familiar story
and I can visit the past and very often the best of the past, including
the pre-Christian past. I also visit my own past and my own home - the
crisp Midwest winter air, the stark black-and-white of birch and maple
trees, the crunch of wet snow under rubber boots, the white paint of the
Congregationalist steeple at night under which friends and I sang carols
in four-part harmony. Of course, our carols, I found out, had gone through
the sturdy mill of 18th-century hymnody. The discovery of the Medieval
and Renaissance carol tradition came as a wonderful present, as did the
Christmas songs of the folk tradition. I associate Christmas with childhood
and adolescence and therefore get sentimental over it. But the beauty of
the music remains as fresh as ever.

The Baltimore Consort approaches the music mainly as a Renaissance group.
The arrangements are precisely that, modern to boot, made mostly by Consort
members, but devised in general to give an archaic sound. Viols, rebecs,
citterns, lutes, and wooden flutes help. They generally take tunes from
more-or-less original sources rather than traditional ones, so a piece
like "Ding-dong, Merrily on High" ("Bransle l'officiel" from Arbeau's
Orchesographie of 1589) rings with a piquant difference. The instrumental
work is quite fine and the arrangements free of fancy, kitschy clutter. The
vocal work falls to soprano Custer LaRue. She has a naive quality to her
voice, a slightly straight tone that suits the music down to the ground.
When she forays into Kentucky and the eastern mountains, both she and the
Consort give the music a slight bend and loosen up a bit rhythmically. I
tell you, I hear her against the sound of the cittern, and I feel the snap
of winter's breath. An album to listen to at night, preferably in front of
a warm fireplace.

Steve Schwartz