Beauty and the Liturgy
Hans Urs von Balthasar has placed “beauty” at the very threshold of his theological opus. It is one reason his work resonates powerfully with many.
When I first came to the parish where I live, the lower church, where daily Eucharist is celebrated, had been “creatively” renovated in the early seventies.The walls were painted a garish orange; the altar and ambo looked like they were hand-made of wooden crates in the local high school workshop (though in upper-middle class Newton no high school would dream of having a workshop).
To celebrate Mass in such an environment required drawing upon every ounce of ex opere operato conviction one could muster. Happily some years later a modest but tasteful renovation transformed the worship space (though the inside of one closet was kept orange as a cautionary remembrance of things past).
That memory surfaced when reading Pope Benedict’s catechesis during his Wednesday audience on the sixth century preacher and hymn writer, Romanus the Melodist. Clearly Pope Benedict’s own persuasion of the importance of art and music in liturgical celebration and in catechesis inspires his remarks. Here is some of what the Pope said:
Romanus is known in history as one of the most representative authors of liturgical hymns. At the time the homily was for the faithful practically the only opportunity of catechesis. Thus Romanus was not only an eminent witness of the religious sentiment of his day, but also of a lively and original method of catechesis. Through his compositions we can see the creativity of this form of catechesis, of the creativity of the theological thought, of the aesthetic and the sacred hymnography of the era.
[snip]
Palpitating humanity, arduous faith and profound humility pervade the songs of Romanus the Melodist. This great poet and composer reminds us of the entire treasure of Christian culture, born of faith, born of the heart that has found Christ, the Son of God. From this contact of the heart with the truth that is love, culture is born, the entire great Christian culture.
And if the faith continues to live, this cultural inheritance will not die, but rather it will continue to live and be current. Icons continue to speak to the hearts of believers to this day, they are not things of the past. The cathedrals are not medieval monuments, rather houses of life, where we feel “at home”: where we find God and each other. Neither is great music — the Gregorian chant, Bach or Mozart — something of the past, rather it lives in the vitality of the liturgy and our faith.
If faith is alive, Christian culture will never be “outdated,” but rather will remain alive and current. And if faith is alive, we can respond to the imperative that is always repeated in the psalms: “Sing an new song unto the Lord.”
Has Benedict ever said a kind word about jazz? OK, OK, OK. He’s German and German music is among the greatest in the world, so he’s entitled to tout it. (There’s a nice telegraphic phrase.) But it’s not the only valuable kind of modern music. I love this Pope. I appreciate his appreciation of the arts. But he’s closed-minded.
But, Father, I do share your fear of orange. Once I pointed out to my chairperson that my office needed a new rug. Without consulting with me (a real Hillary she was), she had a wall-to-wall orange one installed because she said she knew I love color. I wanted to throttle her. On the other hand some glorious works of art celebrate with it. I’m thinking of a mammoth print of Isaiah by Chagall which is almost entirely vermillion. Wunderbar! Context, context. (Sometimes I think that for Pope Benedict there is only one context — a Bavarian one. Sigh.)
(Can one be completely open-hearted and closed-minded?)
I found this morning’s NPR story on the Veveteria fascinating – how ugly I find those velvet pictures, yet apparently many folks eat them up. I guess I could pass this off as low brow, ignorant, etc.
but
I think the posdt by Mike was it in the Chaput thread below about seeing other perspectives is useful not only in matters religion/politics, but also where the ruber meets the road, liturgy.
I’m happy to hear what pleases anyone, I beleive there s lots of beautiful art and music that enrich our liturgical history, but I have this deep feeling that what matters most of all is that which helps the community worship, give thanks and enter into the mystery of faith.
I’m not crazy about Rahner or von Balthasar, but since there was a Rahner it seems to me necessary to have a von Balthasar. After ditching as naive every beautiful sensible representation of God, as so many have been encouraged to do in their theological training since Foundations of the Christian Faith, there had to be an overemphasis on the revelatory power of aesthetics.
When we see Him, He will be beautiful, but not in any way that resembles the beauty we see now. So what’s to be done in worship? For 25 years the answer has been: build ugly churches.
Wasn’t the Triumph of Orthodoxy–the restoration of the icons–won in 843? It seems a shame that it still has to be thought through. But here we are, recovering the image, recovering art for the Church.
Ann,
I ought to have included the last paragraph of the Pope’s reflection:
“Creativity, innovation, new song, new culture, and presence of the entire cultural inheritance are not mutually exclusive, but one reality: the presence of the beauty of God and of the joy of being his sons and daughters.”
I’m not sure if that provides an opening to “jazz,” but I think it is not restrictive to Bach and Mozart, no more than it is restrictive to Romanus the Melodist.
Kathy,
I don’t want to get into a prolonged discussion of von Balthasar, but his insistence on “analogy” as not merely similitude, but even greater dissimilitude between Creator and creature would prevent him from making too facile a leap between the beauty we experience and God’s Glory.
Fair enough, Fr. Imbelli, I was certainly being flippant.
If I might change the subject, I wish the Holy Father had given an example of one of Romanus’ hymns. It’s not easy to write an intensely theological hymn that is also flowing and singable. One device is to use just a single, simple theological point and express it in different (or even repetitive) ways. For example, Holy, Holy, Holy is just about the Trinity and their worthiness to be praised. That’s it. My sense is that the people enjoy singing it.
Romanus the Melodist? Interesting that the Holy Father should have chosen a hymnodist of the Greek Church. It may well be beautiful, but it is a aesthetic different from that of our Latin liturgy.
Jazz? Please. Have we not had enough with the guitar strumming of the past decades? Ned Rorem remarked that such music will not be likely to attract young people to church [its ostensible purpose] because they have plenty of their own music, not in church.
Anecdotally, I know of at least one parish that has attracted a huge following to their “jazz mass” (complete with piano trio). Most of the attendees are young, but not all.
I don’t know exactly how it shapes up, aesthetic-wise, but I do think there’s an element of energy, motion, and maybe even dischord?! in the music that has a theological significance (now, is it an “intense theological significance?” I don’t know…).
Also, I wanted to note (another anecdote) that some of the Catholic worship services around NY that have been using the “praise” music common to our evangelical brethren have, to my chagrin, become quite popular. Anyone familiar with the arm-raising, eyes-closed, awkwardly moving crowds of such gatherings know how far from our more, ah, “classical” worship music like Bach and Gregorian chant.
So I’m not sure about your point, Mr. Austin, that these forms of music will not attract young people. It’s certainly not been my experience.
Also, I wonder if we need a different descriptive (theological) aesthetics for something like jazz (or, similarly, modern “abstract” painting). Can these be a different “incarnation” of the beauty of the Lord, although (see above… thanks K & Fr I) an admittedly analogous and imperfect beauty?
“When I first came to the parish where I live, the lower church, where daily Eucharist is celebrated, had been “creatively” renovated in the early seventies.The walls were painted a garish orange; the altar and ambo looked like they were hand-made of wooden crates in the local high school workshop …”
Fr Imbelli, with sympathy the “creative” renovation you describe strikes me as more pragmatic than authentically reformist. Those hand-made wooden crates sound like a bargain. Heaven save us from pastors and finance committees who make judgments like this for the rest of us. But please, don’t blame the council for it. Progressive Vatican II liturgists disowned this approach decades ago, if indeed any of us ever seriously embraced it.
“Jazz? Please. Have we not had enough with the guitar strumming of the past decades?”
Please. It’s important to make distinctions between judging styles and instruments apart from the relative quality particular performers bring to the table. If those same “strummers” tried to implement Gregorian chant, you’d be running for Lutheran hymnody on the organ, no doubt.
Funny thing about those volunteer strummers. Father probably got the same bargain for them as he got for his surplus cans of orange paint and his wooden crate altar.
“Ned Rorem remarked that such music will not be likely to attract young people to church [its ostensible purpose] because they have plenty of their own music, not in church.”
?
Rorem himself was influenced by jazz. Ever listen to his symphonies?
There is a real question as to whether beauty is a transcendental, pace Urs von B. Aquinas does not recognize it as such. After all “bellus” is a syncopated form of “benellus” a syncopated “dear little good”, no?
In Bxvi’s The Spirit of the Liturgy, there is a discussion of music as Apollonian or Dionysian, with an offhand remark to the effest that only Apollonian is appropriate for liturgy. I am not surprised to hear the professor value the rational over the more primal, emotional forms, but I cannot help thinking of John the Baptist dressed in animal skins and eating locusts and wild honey. If our liturgy starts with his baptisms, he is our model, the first liturgist!
Kathy,
Ugly churches are not a novelty. We have been building them for 1500 years alongside beautiful ones. Thankfully, people generally put more effort into preserving what is beautiful.
I certainly agree that aesthetics are important. I prefer a simple, less ornate chapel (somewhat Cistercian/Trappist type decor). And I like wood and an ‘earthy feel’.
I think that in the polemics against some of the more tackier representations of post-conciliar liturgy, we should not neglect the fact that we had to endure uninspired, bland, statues peering out of every corner in churches. Added to this, we are not supposed to use pottery for sacred vessels but gold plated. One artist informs me that the so called gold plated sacred vessels are of the same quality of gold plating that you could find at a dollar store. Yet, pottery can be lovingly, prayerfully handmaid and be used very reverently in simple settings.
I also very much love jazz but don’t see how it would fit in a liturgical context. I like the St. Louis Jesuits Glory and Praise hymnal.
The point is that aesthetics are important but there needs to be some substantive conversation around liturgy. Benedict has criticized the liturgy as creative performance. Yet, the commentary coming from conservative quarters amenable to Balthasar trajectory (e.g. Neuhaus) sounded like art critics. I saw no evidence of them being moved by a connection with the divine speaking through the liturgy and transforming us. I found the whole thing distasteful but also very revealing about their understanding of what the liturgy is REALLY about. They want a good (highbrow) show.
“Jazz? Please. Have we not had enough with the guitar strumming of the past decades?”
Mr. Austin –
Perhaps you haven’t heard enough good jazz. Guitar is not an instrument favored by jazz musicians. I can’t thinkk of any jazz guitarists. As to guitars, I agree that a little ensemble of guitarists in a very large church is out of place. But perhaps when Earth has been turned into Heaven I’ll visit a tiny little chapel and Segovia will play the music for the Mass. Some Bach maybe.
“Jazz” is, of course, one of those terms which is hard to define, There are so many different over-lapping kinds that it seems to be almost a family resemblance term, and I’m sure some sorts of jazz would not be appropriate in church. And it’s true that, being highly improvisational, it wouldn’t substitute for communal singing. But if you would allow ensembles of jazz musicians analogous to choruses of striaght European musicians, I see no objection to jazz in church. Of course, all forms of music can be done by bad musicians, but that’s not the fault of the music. In fact jazz has a good deal in common with the Baroque — highly complex (but the complexity is found not in melody but in rhythm and improvisation) with different “voices” playing off each other. Plus both can be highly expressive.
Then there’s that other great form of Afro-American music — spirituals. Did you ever hear Marian Anderson sing “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” It seems to me nothing could be more appropriate in a Lentan service.
Interesting topic . Perhaps one of the roots of discord on these topics of aesthetics is that there are “micro” and “macro” aspect to church music and church buildings. I.e on a “micro” level, we can assess the merits of an individual song or church building, and agree that, though a song or a building is non-traditional – maybe even intentionally flouting the traditional rules – there is nothing intrinsically objectionable about it.
But … as such individual instances of songs and church buildings begin to accumulate over the years, they start to take on a collective weight. And so on a “macro” scale we may legitimately ask, is this multiplicity of non-traditional instances – hymnals full of little but contemporary compositions; dioceses with many contemporary buildings and few traditional buildings – assuming a weight that is aesthetically disproportionate? Are contemporary works “crowding out” traditional music and architecture? And are we better or worse off because of the (alleged) disproportionate emphasis on the contemporary?
Along these lines, I’d suggest that, conceptually, there is nothing wrong with a single instance of jazz or Christian Contemporary or folk-accoustic music in church. And from a pastoral and evangelizing point of view, there are advantages for a parish developing a “brand” identity in the minds of people – the “folk mass” or the “jazz mass” or the “Mexican parish”. But on a macro level, if all we get, anywhere, is Christian Contemporary and folk-rock, and the texts of the mass are *never* chanted and organs and orchestral instruments are *never* heard in church, then I’d suggest we’re out of proportion – the balance is out of whack.
“Guitar is not an instrument favored by jazz musicians. I can’t thinkk of any jazz guitarists. ”
Ann, if you have the interest and leisure time, I encourage you to seek out recordings by jazz guitarist Joe Pass. He was phenomenal.
Also, George Benson is best-known as a pop artist of ’70′s vintage, but before that, he was (and I hope still is) an outstanding jazz guitarist.
Given that jazz is all about stretching boundaries and improvising, it’s not surprising that there are jazz flutists, jazz violinists, jazz tuba ensembles, etc.
Hi, George,
“I also very much love jazz but don’t see how it would fit in a liturgical context. ”
This is where the ingenuity of artists comes into play. If they’re good, they can make the unlikely seem on point and inevitable.
“The point is that aesthetics are important but there needs to be some substantive conversation around liturgy. Benedict has criticized the liturgy as creative performance. Yet, the commentary coming from conservative quarters amenable to Balthasar trajectory (e.g. Neuhaus) sounded like art critics. I saw no evidence of them being moved by a connection with the divine speaking through the liturgy and transforming us.”
Very good point. In liturgy, all artistic endeavors should be subsidiary to a larger goal, i.e. the worship of God and the sanctification of the faithful. This is quite different than art for art’s sake or art as political statement, which seems to be the wider artistic context in contemporary culture. Liturgical artists have to channel their creativity toward helping other people offer thanks and praise to God. That’s not easy to do.
“I found the whole thing distasteful but also very revealing about their understanding of what the liturgy is REALLY about. They want a good (highbrow) show.”
Right. That’s what the worship wars often boil down to: the populists vs. the elitists.
“Palpitating” humanity? “Arduous” faith? Come on. The man needs an editor.
The worship wars, imho, are actually theology wars.
The question is: is the kingdom of God something besides everyday life?
Does grace elevate and perfect nature? Or is it precisely identifiable with nature?
If the kingdom is somehow “above,” liturgical art should elevate the mind and soul. Sursum corda! If the kingdom of God is just folks, then folk music and pop art are just fine.
And if God’s Kingdom to be found both “above” and here, Kathy?
I suspect that what is required for liturgical music is that it elevates in an appropriate way the participants in a given time and at a given place. Culture is relative. For get about beauty, it is also relative. It is the effect achieved rather than the musical means by which it is achieved that one should give primary attention to. The problem with many parish settings in the U.S., and in some other places no doubt, is the cultural diversity–some of it age driven–of the parishioners. To that problem I see no easy solution, but a certain amount of tolerance is probably useful.
Not off-topic, I suppose, is this video of Pope Benedict distributing Communion yesterday on the Feast of Corpus Christi: http://www.gloria.tv/?video=lfhznumifgbe5dwprbrw
Art and beauty usually provoke a variety of reactions. At the birth of Gothic architecture, there was great opposition. St Bernard thought monks should never look at their surroundings. The early Dominicans avoided building chapels with “high” ceilings (more than about 8′?) Even hundreds of years later, there were still complaints:
“Gothic Art. The first person to call it ‘Gothic’ was Raphael. This type of art, it is clear, aroused nothing but profound irritation in him. Furthermore, it was the handiwork of the descendants of the barbarians – the Goths – that had knelled the doom of the magnificent Roman Civilization that so appealed to Raphael and his Renaissance brethren. Hence the insulting term, Gothic.” Sonal Panse at Buzzle.com
“But on a macro level, if all we get, anywhere, is Christian Contemporary and folk-rock, and the texts of the mass are *never* chanted and organs and orchestral instruments are *never* heard in church, then I’d suggest we’re out of proportion – the balance is out of whack.”
Jim –
I agree. Or at least the various styles should be available in different parishes. Of, if the Lord wishes, some super-genius might come along who could combine characteristics of several of the styles and “reconcile” them. That would be ideal. The history of modern Western music surely shows a progression in which earlier styles are incorporated in later ones. But it take open-minds.
Steve reminded me off-blog of many fine jazz guitarists. I’m afraid I’m very chauvinistic about “jazz” –when I think “jazz” I tend to think of the New Orleans style. I’d check out those you recomend, but I can’t hear music anymore. Sigh. (How could I *ever* forget Charlie Byrd. He was one of my all time favorite musicians.)
As for jazz necessarily stretching boundaries, I’m not sure that liturgical jazz would have to do that. Stretching boundaries is very threatening to some people, not to mention distracting. But some nice cool and really fine West Coast stuff probably wouldn’t turn them off. Just don’t call it “jazz” and they’ll never know. (hee hee) The improvisation might have to go. But why not just repeat some of the great improvisations? That’s what most concert pianists used to do in the cadenza sectionx of concertos — play classic cadenzas by better musicians than they. And, yes, there is the problem of singing. But why does liturgical music have to be sung always? Yes, yes, Mass is a communal event, but that doesn’t mean that it’s inappropriate for there to be solos. And, of course, there are the spirituals too, which are in the same tradition. The problem isn’t jazz, it’s poor jazz.
I say anything to crowd out those whining 19th and 20th century hymns.
As for liturgical music “elevating” the people, well, yes, at the holiest parts of the Mass that seems most appropriate to me, but it also seems quite appropriate that at other parts we make shouts to the Lord — and to the *rest* of the community. This would depend, of course, on the particular occasion of the Mass (e.g., ordinary time, Christmas, Lent, requiem and wedding Masses, etc.
“The worship wars, imho, are actually theology wars.”
On occasion. They’re also tussles over conflicting personal tastes.
“The question is: is the kingdom of God something besides everyday life?”
I think it’s a false argument to suggest folk and pop artists favor everyday life to the exclusion of what elevates. It’s both-and, not either-or.
“Does grace elevate and perfect nature?”
It can. That’s why sacred music developed organum, polyphony, hymnody, and even incorporates jazz. The context of liturgy and prayer can elevate a whole lot of stuff.
“If the kingdom of God is just folks, then folk music and pop art are just fine.”
That assumes that chant, which is an authentic folk music, is all about people. I think there are a lot of misunderstandings about music, the sacred, classical arts, folk arts, and what sorts of art assist the liturgy. I don’t think Pope Benedict has his head screwed on completely straight about it. And I know that both sides of the liturgy tussles operate from platforms decidedly non-theological.
I appreciate the insights shared. It leads once more to regret that one cannot enjoy the luxury of face to face exchange and clarification.
Like Todd Flowerday, and others, I tend towards a “both/and” attitude. I wonder whether in acknowledging this we also need to affirm that a number of “canons” are in play: the canon of theological substance and, indeed, of orthodoxy, of liturgical appropriateness, of performance skill.
Hence a judgment of liturgical and aesthetic appropriateness requires the capacity of discernment in all three areas — a capacity neither impossible nor to be presumed.
Fr. Imbelli,
Maybe BC could host a dotCommonweal Roundtable and Jam Session.
Todd, it seems unlikely to me that you are doing anything with my arguments than disagreeing with them, rather tersely. Care to flesh out your own point of view?
Kathy, I’ve been blogging for almost five years and I’ve written a good bit on all of these topics in that time: that authentic folk music often brings more suitability to the liturgy, that the Western classical tradition nudges other sacred approaches out of the way, that jazz brings a suitability in style and example for liturgy, that the reform2 bias against contemporary music overlooks the reality of music history, that Christ can work with imperfect musicians in the liturgy, that judgments on style and genre are often confused with an assessment of beauty.
Any response to your brief statements could easily develop into a substantial article. I agree that a roundtable and jam session would be a better venue than comboxes.
Todd,
I don’t disdain comboxes. I think they are places where dialogue can happen.
As someone who doesn’t read your blog regularly, and without the time to spend searching it, I’d be interested in hearing from you directly more of what you mean
by the “suitability” of music for worship. Regardless of what others think, or what par ty lines have been drawn, I would like to know what you think
and why.
Personally I think having serious discussions about these things is ecclesially urgent.
“Todd, it seems unlikely to me that you are doing anything with my arguments than disagreeing with them, rather tersely. Care to flesh out your own point of view?”
Kathy, your post was terse, almost to the point of incomprehensibility. Todd’s reponse ran long by comparison.
This terseness (tersity? tersion?) is a problem with many of your posts. How is the video of people sticking their tongues out at the Pope “not off-topic”? What do you think of the proclamation “the kingdom of God is among us”? Do you consider the divine and human in Jesus as separable as grace and nature? Big, interesting questions, lost in your baffling, terse notes
Kathy, thanks for responding. I appreciate the invitation to expound, though I still think I might post an essay on my own site sometime this weekend.
Off the top of my head, these values would strike me as being more than less suitable for Roman Catholic liturgy:
- In keeping with the Roman value of lean simplicity, plainsong works, not because its traditional, but because it fits the style of Roman worship.
- I would include chant as a folk music, by the broad definition of “people’s” music rather than “musicians’” music.
- I have reservations about music designed for performance being introduced into Roman worship. That includes Bach, Mozart, some P&W songs, and any number of classical or popular styles. I’m not saying such things have NO place in Roman liturgy, but I don’t think any performance music belongs for very long, if not at all, at the core.
- I think musical quality is the first musical judgment to be made. That judgment must incorporate not only repertoire, but the ability of the leader or performer. You may have planned Mozart, but if the musicians and people can’t play and sing it, you can’t stake a claim to quality.
- Suitability has to include the liturgical judgment. You don’t sing Psalm 118 during Lent. You don’t sing a Gloria during Advent. If the pastor is doing a Sprinkling Rite, the Kyrie is omitted. Music serves the liturgy: the particular liturgy as well as the sanctoral cycle.
- Music should be planned with the best intention of fostering the prayer life of the people. Willit help them move, grow, develop in faith? Going to a monastery and introducing the SLJ’s would be silly. Getting hired to bring a folk group from the 60′s into the 21st century: there the SLJ’s might make some sense.
Does that give you a snippet to work with? My question would echo Jim McK’s: Does Mark 1:15 still hold, or is it a historical statement?
I’d like to add a few points:
-I think Todd’s contributions are bioth knwledgeable and helpful;-in the the current America, ther eare 3 articles on “Our Changing Liturgy,” and, if we can be off-topic, I think Robert Taft’s piece on what we can learn from the Eastern Church on said topic was quite good and provocative.
-Which leads me to say that there is much discussion here that is hardly the final word that oten comes out of one’s preconceptions.
Jim, thanks for the kick in the pants. I don’t always realize my tersion. Ur, unclarity. I shall repent as best I’m able, but would appreciate being asked for clarification if I miss a pitch.
Thanks, Todd, for the almost entirely unpolemical response. It’s a breath of fresh air. Let me give it some thought. Let me emphasize that I’m a practitioner, a music director at a multicultural suburban parish, and these questions are live for me. I’m genuinely looking for good answers.
Todd,
I see what you mean, now, about chant as folk music. I take it that you are not speaking about complex, melismatic pieces; rather, about the origins of chant.
Doesn’t chant strike you, though, as being quite different from folk music as we usually use the the m? My impression of chant, its oddness to the ear, is its independence of any underlying chord progression. This might not be evident in the common usage of chant. Monasteries typically play chords on the organ to keep the chant together. My organist and I end funerals with In Paradisum. He has me sing it a capella, then sort of tethers it back into a chordal structure with riffs on the musical lines “in paradisum” (on the tonic) and “Jerusalem” (IV-I). I can imagine that the chords are a major relief to the ears because they bring the music back into a current-day folk structure.
Kathy,
I think it’s a fallacy that folk music is always considered “simple” music in the sense that it cannot bear the weight of complexity or virtuosity. Good folk music interpreted by a good musician is among the best music there is.
As for the complex Gregorian chants, I confess my unfamiliarity with them. They’re not liturgical music in the sense of what people would sing, so they haven’t registered in my experience. They wouldn’t be part of the post-Renaissance European classical music establishment, either. But they would be art music.
As a player of instruments that produce chords, I have to say one thing in chant that appeals to me is the suggested harmonization in the sung line. Some of that would be the overtones; some would be the result of natural reverberation where it is sung. Probably some is my mind providing something for the imagination.
I do think that accompanying chant is usually a necessity for parishes outside of religious life. There’s not enough experience, even among good musicians, to maintain pitch and tempo. Conception Abbey accompanies chant a little, but the monks keep things going quite well. In a religious community, I would expect the musician would be responsible for teaching and maintaining the entire community in a musical mode, aiming for the most authentic singing–chant a cappella in this instance.
Todd,
I think that chordal accompaniment of chant is a big help in parishes but would be best thought of as training wheels–the kind of incremental change that you suggest for monasteries. I think we agree that these things don’t happen overnight. In my parish the choir and congregation do some accompanied chants, and very familiar a capella chants (sanctus, agnus dei, etc.) during Advent and Lent. At the early morning Sunday Mass we sing the Missa de Angelis Gloria, which is in the hymnal, accompanied. But we don’t have a lot of participation with that.
For the harder stuff I’m skipping right to the kids. More than a dozen preteens and teenagers have signed up for our youth Classical Schola. As soon as I figure out what to do with them, we have a big summer project of chant ahead. A guy I know says that the way to begin is with repetitious words. When the kids know the words, they are ready to learn the melody. I think we’ll do introits and communios regularly, from the Simplex.
Almost forgot–our other unaccompanied chant is Solemn Sunday Vespers. About 12-15 people attend every week. We use simple tones from the Mundelein Psalter.
I’ve thought of adding organ accompaniment but wouldn’t want to lose that sort of “floating” sense that comes with unaccompanied chant. It’s not anchored to a chordal system nor to a meter. It’s more word-sensitive and more fluid that way, I feel.
“Like Todd Flowerday, and others, I tend towards a “both/and” attitude. I wonder whether in acknowledging this we also need to affirm that a number of “canons” are in play: the canon of theological substance and, indeed, of orthodoxy, of liturgical appropriateness, of performance skill. Hence a judgment of liturgical and aesthetic appropriateness requires the capacity of discernment in all three areas — a capacity neither impossible nor to be presumed.”
Dear Fr. Imbelli,
As it happens, the document “Music In Catholic Worship” from the US bishops – recently superseded by an updated doc called “Sing To the Lord” but enormously influential for those of us who learned the craft of liturgical music in the post-conciliar period – proposes a very similar tripartite approach to selecting music: the musical judgement, the liturgical judgment, and the pastoral judgment. Presumably, your doctrinal/orthodoxy concerns would be folded into the liturgical judgment.
The pastoral judgment would be discerning what is appropriate for the particular, concrete community that the musician is serving, e.g., all else being equal, choosing a piece the community knows well is often better than choosing a piece that nobody knows.
“Doesn’t chant strike you, though, as being quite different from folk music as we usually use the the m? My impression of chant, its oddness to the ear, is its independence of any underlying chord progression. This might not be evident in the common usage of chant. Monasteries typically play chords on the organ to keep the chant together. My organist and I end funerals with In Paradisum. He has me sing it a capella, then sort of tethers it back into a chordal structure with riffs on the musical lines “in paradisum” (on the tonic) and “Jerusalem” (IV-I). I can imagine that the chords are a major relief to the ears because they bring the music back into a current-day folk structure.”
Hi, Kathy, I think what you’re discussing is rooted in the fact that much/most of the church’s chant repertoire is in modes that the modern Western ear long ago discarded. Personally, I’m a fan of accompanying chants, for the pastoral reason you suggest (i.e. it helps people ot sing) but also because it helps bring out the modal character of the pieces. Our modern ears tend to imagine the melodies being buttressed by familiar IV-V-I progressions. A little subversive keyboard or guitar work can expand those conventional minds :-).
“I think it’s a fallacy that folk music is always considered “simple” music in the sense that it cannot bear the weight of complexity or virtuosity. Good folk music interpreted by a good musician is among the best music there is.”
Hi, Todd, I agree. I believe it was Duke Ellington who said, “If it sounds good, it is good”. Works for me.
“As for the complex Gregorian chants, I confess my unfamiliarity with them. They’re not liturgical music in the sense of what people would sing, so they haven’t registered in my experience. They wouldn’t be part of the post-Renaissance European classical music establishment, either. But they would be art music.”
Right. Still, that repertoire can, and does, still live as genuine liturgical music, but not for the average parish. Monasteries, cathedrals or basilicas with the resources and desire, keep this stuff alive. But not to model it for the rest of us to use.
Personally, I think it’s hard for people to chant extended pieces. I believe the best way to keep chant a living tradition in our parish liturgies is to chant the parts assigned to various ministers. Eucharistic Prayers, Gospels and Prayers of the Faithful work very well chanted.
Just my opinions, admittedly unorthodox.
The music world is rife with jazz guitarists …. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_jazz_guitarists
http://www.digitaldreamdoor.com/pages/best_jazz/best_jazzguitar.html
I have a particular fondness for the work of Django Reinhardt.
Jim,
How can a chord-based instrument reinforce modal sound? What techniques would you suggest? (Guitar and organ)
“How can a chord-based instrument reinforce modal sound? What techniques would you suggest? (Guitar and organ)”
Hi, Kathy, by providing harmonies that progress according to the rules of the particular mode, rather than the major or handful of minor modes that are within our modern Western comfort zone.
There are examples in most of the mainstream hymnals – e.g. check out accompaniments for Ave Maria, or the Mass XVIII Agnus Dei.
FWIW, you probably know that one of the ways that contemporary composers and arrangers have tried to build bridges to our older musical heritage is by providing “modern” harmonizations to old chants and tunes. e.g. Marty Haugen with Creator of the Stars of Night (CONDITOR ALME SIDERUM), or What Wondrous Love Is This (Wondrous Love). If you have access to GIA hymnals, check out Richard Proulx’s accompaniment harmonization of Wondrous Love, which I believe is more faithful to the original mode (I think it’s Dorian, but I’m not as sharp on this stuff as I used to be- it’s been a long time!). I don’t say Haugen is wrong to do what he did; in fact I think his work is amazing. But in accommodating popular taste, something strong in the original is necessarily set aside.
Just my opinions.