Unsilent Night and the Hidden City

I'm trying to learn to write nonfiction, journalistic style pieces. Here's what i did to get my photo in Hidden City Philadelphia's twitter feed (with My good friend Laserdollars).

            When I heard about Unsilent Night in Old City via Hidden City Philadelphia, I had to go. The idea alone conjured an image of internet age caroling, which it essentially was. We gathered to spread cheer with music and strangers. During the event (which celebrated the tenth anniversary of it’s presence in Philadelphia today) participants literally pick up parts of Kline’s song to carry with them. Dozens of boom boxes were loaded with one of four tapes comprising Phil Kline’s “Unsilent Night,” and the organizers had set up apps so that the neo-carol could be downloaded to smart phones and other digital players. Whatever era of music player, it could be used in unison to participate in the symphony.

            The crowd gathered under a chandelier as elegant and sleek as the Trust building itself. We held our players at the ready, and on the count of three we kicked off Old City Winter Wonderland, a series of events meant to make use of Old City’s loveliness. We simultaneously hit play and something like static sound swelled into harmony. I felt an implicit association of the gleaming chandelier crystals with the light pings of bells. We left Trust and paraded into the streets. After passing art galleries, eateries, and smiling passersby we came to Elfreth’s Alley, popularly known as our nation’s oldest residential street. The bells in the song peaked in the alleyway and ricocheted into a kind of chiming. The children were exhilarated and their parents seemed to share in the same holiday excitement, which produced in me a memory of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, when the Ghost of Christmas Past showed Scrooge how much he used to love.  

            The music seemed to break down the barriers between bells, choirs, and ambient Christmas sounds. The essence of Christmas music flowed out from our group, rather than the sharp jingling and words. In the same way the social barriers between participants and passersby seemed to dissolve as some people walked alongside us, some smiling couples were given an interesting conversation topic, and at least one homeless man jingled his change can to our melody. Anyone in earshot necessarily participated if the music made any impression on them. I think that’s what art’s job is; expressing what connects us universally. On that note, the boom boxes suited us well. They looked like music based brief cases, and I imagined that we were all business people carrying our work around town on our commute.  

Author's Note

If you have experience writing non-fiction articles, please leave advice.

Reviews

[Marie]

This sounds like a great, shared musical event. As far as I can tell you wrote this well. I have no experience in writing non-fiction articles.