Harmonies and Heartstrings: An Unexpected Christmas in Bavaria

Transport yourself to the snow-covered charm of a Bavarian Christmas circa 1990, where carols echoed in a cozy pub, a tenor’s voice captivated a town, and a dinner simmered just a bit too long creating a dilemma for our dear friend, Peter. In this festive tale by one of our own, Gerry Lane, the melodies of community and tradition blend with a poignant reminder to honor the unsung efforts behind every celebration.

T’was a calm, tranquil evening in Southern Germany in late December. Picturesque Brunnthal lies about 20 kms outside Munich, a small town in the beautiful Bavarian countryside. Christmas is a very special time of year here and the Weinachts festivities included various traditions going back centuries, particularly the Christmas Markets famous throughout Germany. It was a quiet, peaceful scene with 25cm of fresh snow blanketing the Church, the school, the roofs of homes and the winter gardens of the townsfolk. Peter, Brunnhilde and their son Mark, who had recently bought a house there, were hosting good friend Stan, who was visiting from Manila, for the Christmas dinner, celebrated there on Dec 24th.

Brunnhilde, an accomplished and proud cook who set high standards for herself, delighted in preparing the most important dinner of the year. The kitchen and indeed the whole house was fragrant with the scents of roast goose stuffed with apples, roast pork, red cabbage, potato dumplings, Spätzle (noodles), stollen (fruit cake), venison Gulasch, Marzipan and Glühwein, wafting through their warm home. She announced dinner time would be at 8:00pm, so Peter & Stan decided to take a bracing walk an hour ahead in the chill air and the snow for a beer at the local kneipe (pub). With the best of intentions, Peter assured Brunnhilde that the walk would whet their appetite for the delicious dinner ahead. It did not occur to him at the time that the Road to Hell is paved with Good Intentions!

The Stimmung (atmosphere) in the Alter Gasthof kneipe was festive, celebratory after a good harvest and loud as good friends gathered in shared friendships. And then a choir of ruddy faced young cherubs entered under the direction of an enthusiastic school teacher. Germans generally have a great respect for music and, in this area, for choirs in particular. The kneipe hushed as the carollers began to sing Heilige Nacht (Holy Night) with fervent emotion. Spontaneous applause followed the rendition and encouraged them to sing Oh Tannenbaum (Oh Christmas Tree). Inspired by this Yuletide classic, Peter rose from his seat and joined in the song.

Now, at this stage of the story I need to explain exactly who Peter Kane is. A handsome Irish lad who trained for years as a tenor in the National Opera House in Dublin, in Saddlers Wells in London and in the Opera Houses of both Vienna and Munich.

He played several supporting roles in the finest productions, but he never made it to the highest levels of this extraordinarily competitive arena of the arts. He was gifted, however, with an exceptionally rich, strong tenor voice. A few years later when he lived in Manila, every socialite hostess in high society had to have Peter sing at her lavish party, such was the fame and popularity that followed him. Ladies swooned at his 2nd attribute: a killer, relentless smile!

Meanwhile back in the kneipe, Peter joined the choir softly in Oh Tannenbaum, encouraging the young singers to join him.

Gradually the sound of his lovingly trained voice rose gently from a sensitive timbre to full volume and astonished both the choir and the audience into spellbound silence. The applause as he finished was immediate and deafening and soon beer, wine and schnapps arrived on his table from admiring customers.

Request after request followed from the townsfolk who had previously no idea that such a talent actually lived amongst them. They eventually persuaded him to join them at the main kneipe and restaurant in town, the much larger Bayerische Bierhaus und Garten in order to proudly introduce their newfound talent to the rest of the town.

The first and perhaps favourite song in Peter’s extensive repertoire was Love is a Many Splendored Thing, which he rendered with passion and the genuine feeling of the artist. Like all performers of the live arts, he thrived on feedback from the audience and they rewarded him with amazing appreciation and recognition.

Song after requested song only raised the level of excitement and our hero revelled in the Roar of the Greasepaint, the Smell of the Crowd! He glanced at his watch and although it was now well past 10:00pm, he convinced himself that perhaps the delay in serving dinner might benefit from simmering a little longer to help the juices and spices infuse the roast goose and improve its flavour.

Let’s now spare a thought for the hard-working Brunnhilde who, at the same time was glancing anxiously at the kitchen clock, concerned understandably that her careful timing of each dish had passed its prime even at the lowest heat setting. In the days before mobile phones, she had no means of contacting Peter or Stan, or even knowing where they were. She had cheerfully waved them goodbye as they departed for the local kneipe for an hour. Her concern began to shift priority from the dinner to their unknown wellbeing.

Back in the Bayerische, Peter began to take his leave, thanking his audience profusely, when he was approached by 2 officials from the Rathaus (Town Hall) who informed him that the Bürgermeister(Mayor) was on his way to meet him and officially welcome him to the Gemeinschaft (Community). It would be a little rude for Peter not to wait, so not wanting to cause offense, he accepted another beer with his good mate Stan. The jovial Bürgermeister, Hans Strauss, greeted Peter warmly and sat enthralled as he listened to the most beautiful voice he had ever heard in person. So the wily, vote-conscious politician shouted a drink for the whole house and positioned himself as MC for the rest of the evening, rousing his constituents to join in the singing with his newfound ally.

Peter made another attempt to go home at around 11:30pm, but 2 other factors began to play into the scene. The 1st was Herr Siegfried Meyer, a wealthy farmer who was also an accomplished pianist. He found it quite incredible that this surprise tenor had surfaced unexpectedly in their midst and he became obsessed with the desire to have Peter sing to accompany him on the piano at his home. He beseeched repeatedly, but our hero countered with his duty to return home without further delay.

The 2nd factor now came into play: the farmer’s daughter Frieda was a buxom young lady, blonde, blue eyed and shapely in a traditional Dirndl, often seen at the Oktoberfest with generous cleavage. While Peter was engaged with Meyer, Stan had taken a fancy to the lovely Frieda and he now whispered earnestly to Peter that he should take the farmer’s invitation immediately and visit the farm.

To bolster his rationale, he pointed out the old adage that You Might as Well be Hanged for a Sheep as a Lamb, meaning that the punishment will be the same whether they return home now or later. This adage rests on the assumption that the consequences or punishment will not increase with repetition of the offense. Peter now found himself in a dilemma, as Stan called in a few previous favors.

Many an Ancient Greek Tragedy involves the hero being torn between a strong sense of duty and his unwavering loyalty to a close friend. There is no positive outcome to this dilemma and the end is invariably tragic. Peter, who generally harbors goodwill to all men, now found himself unwittingly and involuntarily in just such a situation. A winning smile from Frieda tilted the balance in favor of the trip to the farm, so off they set. Thirty minutes later they arrived at the large farmhouse and Siegfried proudly ushered Peter to the grand piano in the living room, while Stan entertained Frieda in a different room.

Siegfried settled himself comfortably, took a deep breath and began to play the introduction to Robert Schuman’s Im wunderschönen Monat Mai. Rising to this challenge and impressed with the beauty of the pianist’s skill, Peter joined in this famous song and soon they progressed with great enthusiasm to Puccini’s Tosca, Wagner’s Die Walküre, Verdi’s Falstaff and several more. The mutual respect between these two artists grew with each performance and a harmonious musical relationship developed between the pair. Until Peter suddenly realized the time, thanked his host heartily and took his leave, collected a slightly disheveled Stan and began the anxious journey back to Brunnthal.

At almost 2:00am Stan pulled up in his rental car at Peter’s home and was invited in. He looked askance at Peter in the passenger seat with a pained and quizzical expression as if to ask whether he was seriously expected to go in and face Brunnhilde’s wrath. He declined with a smile and an oath and set off back to his hotel in Munich. Peter went to the front door, patted his pockets and made the alarming discovery that he had left home without his keys. In good German fashion the house was now locked up tight as a drum.

As he pondered his very limited options, Mother Nature decided at this late stage to play a role in the drama with a pressing urge. He looked over the front hedge up and down the deserted snow covered street and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Suddenly the upstairs window flew open and Brunnhilde let rip with a torrent of ferocious and unprintable, but understandable vitriol!

It took a few days for domestic Yuletide peace and harmony to return to the home. Although I was not personally involved in this particular story, there are clearly lessons to be learned in weighing loyalties, respecting priorities and nurturing relationships.

Here’s wishing everyone a peaceful, harmonious and joyous Yuletide Season. Merry Christmas!

Gerry Lane