Well, isn’t this precious.Your favorite columnist will be the “guest soloist” at the first performance of
TubaChristmas on Saturday.In this context, “guest soloist” is a euphemism for “designated buffoon.”If you’ve been to any of the 31 previous TubaChristmas concerts in Akron, you know the drill: Someone with local name recognition is invited to come onstage near the end of the show and honk a few honks on an instrument with which he or she has no familiarity.Some do it better than others, but it doesn’t seem to make much difference whether the soloists are really trying or just goofing around. Either way, the ears tend to cringe.Which particular notes I will play I’m not certain. There are seven of them, and I’ve been told the proper fingerings, but after all these years, the sheet music looks like Russian.I do know that all seven are whole notes. That much I remember from high school band, when I played (badly) a considerably smaller instrument (trumpet).Present company excepted, TubaChristmas is a marvelous tradition, both locally and nationally. It all began in 1974 at the skating rink at Rockefeller Center in Manhattan, one of the coolest places to be in the weeks leading up to Christmas.Not only do New Yorkers temporarily stop maiming each other on the sidewalks, but there’s a palpable feeling of mass camaraderie. Which lasts until, oh, about Dec. 26.Anyway, a fellow named Harvey Phillips dreamt up that first get-together as a tribute to the late William Bell, the Babe Ruth of the tuba, who was born on Christmas Day 1902.Today, Akron is one of 256 cities around the country, and 14 in Ohio, working hard to improve the image of the red-headed stepchild of brass instruments.If you haven’t attended a TubaChristmas, your skepticism is understandable. Tubas? A Christmas concert with nothing but tubas? Surely an aural train wreck.As a New York Times writer quipped last year, the tuba is still trying to shed its image as “orchestral clown, herald of grim news, poorly respected back-bencher best when not noticed, good for little more than the ‘oom’ in the oom-pah-pah.”But hearing is believing. Put together 450 to 500 tubas — ranging from the gargantuan bass tuba to the little alto horn — and the sound can be downright moving.The proof is in the attendance: In recent years, a combined 6,000 folks have shown up for the two shows.During the three decades since the local version was launched by University of Akron music professor Tucker Jolly — could there possibly be a better name for a guy conducting Christmas carols? — the local production has moved from Cascade Plaza (with 55 shivering players) to a hallway at Quaker Square to a lobby at Quaker Square to a banquet room at Quaker Square to the lobby of E.J. Thomas Hall to the Akron Civic Theatre to its home for the past five years, the main stage at E.J.The location kept changing not because Jolly was trying to stay one step ahead of the law, but because he kept outgrowing his venues.Although the Civic has 2,600 seats, only 300 fewer than E.J., its stage is significantly smaller, so the first several rows of audience seating were needed to accommodate all the musicians. The move to E.J. essentially provided 500 more seats.Jolly felt obligated to add a second show after the 1990 bash, when he had to turn away several hundred people, some of whom had driven significant distances.Saturday’s performances are at noon and 2:30. Guest soloist for Round Two is University of Akron Provost Mike Sherman. (For details, see the cover story in today’s Enjoy magazine.)Akron’s TubaChristmas is consistently one of the largest in the nation. The biggest show came in 2002 after a one-year hiatus while the Civic was being renovated: 600 players and so many fans that nearly 1,000 had to be turned away.Jolly never knows how many players to expect because there’s no preregistration. The weather has a big effect, although he is still astounded by the number of folks who showed up in 2007 during a blizzard: 300 players and 2,200 fans.“I walked out on stage and said, ‘You people are nuts!’ ” he joked.Given the size of the orchestra, you might think musicians are getting paid. Au contraire. Each player must pay $5 and arrive by 9:30 for a rehearsal.Admission is free, too. And you even get to sing along.Guest soloists have ranged from the powerful — David Brennan, Tom Sawyer — to the laughable — Stan Piatt, Stuart Warner and now, moi.As Jolly was tracing the history of his soloists the other day, his visitor commented, “You have no standards, do you?” “You’re right,” he said with a laugh. “We have none. If I had standards, I couldn’t look in the mirror.”Hey, pal, you get what you pay for.Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com.