Let there be lights, all over the city

FOR me, as for many Americans, the Christmas season officially begins on Thanksgiving Day, the fourth Thursday in November. On that morning, while women prepare feasts for 20 and men prepare to gorge themselves and fall asleep in front of televised football, children watch the annual Macy's department store parade in New York.

There, high school bands, giant cartoon-character balloons and leggy Radio City Rockettes march, float and high-kick their way down Broadway.

At the end of this event, now in its 72nd year, Santa pulls up in his sleigh - let the festivities begin! This is my third Christmas season in York and each year I've searched for some alternative way to mark its exact beginning, sans turkey, pumpkin pie and the odd Pilgrim hat or two. At last, I found it: the night the lights were switched on in York city centre.

What took you so long, York?

My first year here, I expected a shimmering, glistening fairyland of lights. But the blackness of the city left me feeling blue. It reminded me of the dark nights of the 1970s oil embargo, when Americans cut back dramatically on light displays to save fuel and money.

Most years, Christmas illuminations abound in the US. Homeowners set the spirit of the season with tableaux of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the front garden and Santas with prancing reindeer on the rooftop. In the mix of secular and sacred that is a US Christmas, oxen share stables with red-nosed Rudolphs and plastic snowpeople rub shoulders with wise men and shepherds. Spot-lit wreaths on doors and silver trees in windows combine with blinking messages of Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Season's Greetings for a presentation that would amaze Thomas Edison.

To complete the presentation, piped carols fill the air with Joy to the World, Away in a Manger and Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

Families go out in their cars and drive slowly through nearby neighbourhoods, admiring this house's creativity and that one's kitsch. Some streets are known for illuminations which could rival Blackpool's and traffic slows to a crawl as hundreds of visitors come to exclaim or gawk.

Meanwhile, in towns, every department store offers windows with animated elves making toys for Santa's pack while Mrs Claus bakes and nods wisely, or Victorian children hang their stockings by a fireplace while a toy train circles the base of a lavishly-decorated evergreen. And no building site is without its lighted tree poised on the highest floor.

In many communities there's the added attraction of confrontations over the separation of church and state - specifically whether any form of Christmas display on the town green is acceptable. The battle between American Civil Liberties Union and hide-bound traditionalists is always good conversational fodder.

Of course, because it's the US, there's often the more-is-better approach to decorating. Here, every conceivable item available on the market is combined into one garish, spinning, shining, glowing, churning, singing, dancing, cluttered extravaganza. Yes, Americans often do things to excess, but not always. Whether it's the quiet restfulness of a single candle in a window or the loudly joyous coloured lights that flash from every corner of a shop, at least we make a statement.

Finally, York has almost enough lights to satisfy my heart. Colliergate's traditional swags and wreaths, Goodramgate's winking all-white lights, Swinegate's moon and stars and Fossgate's lanterns, trees and shooting stars are all a delight. So too, the trees in Parliament Street, St Helen's Square and Exhibition Square - hooray!

Next year, let's see Clifford Street, Ouse Bridge, Fishergate and others get into the act. Now, just as you're starting to relax and think that the city has finally got it right, let me bring up the latest Stateside trend: Easter displays in the front garden.

09/12/98

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.