I’ve flummoxed myself time and again these past few weeks, forever fumbling over words and phrases in an attempt to convey the inherent magic found in Welsh jazz harpist Amanda Whiting’s A Christmas Cwtch. I’ve sat here at my desk each morning with a proverbial quill in hand—and scratched out the verbiage as soon as I jotted it down. It’s not the sound of heaven, as who would know? Nor does it mimic deer frolicking in a fresh snow, though that sight is a wonder to behold. Nothing I’ve written has done it justice. As a result, some days I moved onto another album, another artist. Other times, as the paucity of recent posts shows, I instead hopped over to MHZ Choice and indulged in translated distractions.
Metaphors, until just now, eluded me. But the goose, to borrow from a favorite Christmas song, is getting fat; the time to make the meal is now. Here’s what I’ve settled on: Whiting’s renditions of beloved holiday tunes float from the speakers as if fluffy snow from a passing cloud on what is an otherwise starry night. Yeah, yeah: Too wordy by half. Leaving metaphor behind, however, it’s safe to say that A Christmas Cwtch is an ethereal, beautiful and soothing collection.
According to Google’s AI overview, the Welsh word “cwtch” translates to “hug or cuddle,” “cubbyhole or cupboard,” or “to squat down or crouch.” That’s a wide range but, as you might expect based on the set’s Christmas theme, here it means the first. The press release quotes Whiting as explaining, “It’s a hug, with a little squeeze. It’s a feeling. It’s cosy, loving and safe. I wanted this album to hold you, cwtch you and allow you to indulge.”
The tracks range from classical to jazz, jazz to traditional, and back around. Most feature Whiting on harp, Aidan Thorne on bass, and Mark O’Connor on drums and percussion; Lucia Capellaro joins on cello for “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Singling out one or several almost seems a disservice, as they play out as if one.
The Old Grey Cat 
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