Holy and Beautiful Music

[ajpirc]

Well, what about Catholics who aside from Gregorian, also listen to Old Roman, Beneventan, Ambrosian, Mozarabic, Byzantine, and Maronite chant?

Sorry. I just meant to ask what happened to traditional Catholics listening to traditional music. It seems like they’ve all been sucked into the blackhole of modernism (if that makes any sense).

 

[patrick457]

Sorry. I just meant to ask what happened to traditional Catholics listening to traditional music. It seems like they’ve all been sucked into the blackhole of modernism (if that makes any sense).

Well I don’t know if I would fit the label of ‘traditional’ as some people would interpret it, but count me in. Though admittedly, I’m a bit more partial to ‘Old Roman’ chant.

 

[BenedictOblate]

This is the first time I’ve expressed my opinion on any topic here at Catholic Answers. I’ve asked a few questions, but this topic interested me so I thought I’d toss in my two cents.

Full disclosure, I have a Masters Degree in Music and am a composer of “serious” music. Also, I am a former seminarian who discovered God was calling me to a life outside of the priesthood . . . one of using my gifts as a musician to bring glory to Him.

I love chant and sacred polyphony, but also enjoy modern music. I find the Latin texts to have an otherworldly quality and could listen to Palestrina all day. However, being brought up in the Church since 1969, my experience with sacred music has been mostly of the “guitar mass” variety.

While I don’t find all of THAT music particularly artful, I can’t deny the fact that most of my formation took place in the midst of those songs. The most significant events in my life, weddings, funerals, sacraments, etc . . . have all had been enhanced by music of the “Glory and Praise” series and others from the missalette. I can’t help but shed a tear when I hear “Be Not Afraid.” I associate it with every funeral I’ve attended. The text speaks to me and the musical setting is simple, but powerful.

Chant is effective, because of its simplicity. It allows one to focus on the text and the primal, spiritual nature of the melodies. The Church supported this unadorned, uncomplicated music, because of its purity and solemn nature. It truly touches the soul.

However, the older I get, I find it more difficult to objectively say that one type of music is “better” than another. My musical training helped me to develop a more cultured and, admittedly, pretentious aesthetic sensitivity and judgement, but a more mature, developed sense of judgment isn’t objectively better.

Think of it this way, whose spirituality is “better” a child or an adult? We can objectively identify that one may be more developed or one may be more simple, but is one actually better? Can we know?

In the same way, is there “better” music for worship? Again, we can argue that one may be more sophisticated or one might be more solemn, but is any type of music better?My snobbish, cultured side says, “Why, yes”, but my purely purist view says, “Not really.”

There is an interesting line between the type of music that we find beautiful and that which enriches the soul. Beauty, as its said, is in the eye of the beholder. I also think it is important to avoid placing judgment on certain music we may not personally find “spiritual,” because it may speak to someone else.

While it may not necessary appeal to me, far be it from me to say that any music that brings a person closer to God is not worthwhile.

Certainly we can discuss personal preference with regard to music, but individual spirituality is as equally unique and to try to impose my “spiritual aesthetic” on someone else is both egocentric and meaningless.

Peace.

 

[Alex246]

I think BenedictOblate’s got it right:thumbsup:

 

[ajpirc]

Is anyone here against modern Christian music?

 

[valoriuslobo]

*There is an interesting line between the type of music that we find beautiful and that which enriches the soul. Beauty, as its said, is in the eye of the beholder. I also think it is important to avoid placing judgment on certain music we may not personally find “spiritual,” because it may speak to someone else.

While it may not necessary appeal to me, far be it from me to say that any music that brings a person closer to God is not worthwhile.

Certainly we can discuss personal preference with regard to music, but individual spirituality is as equally unique and to try to impose my “spiritual aesthetic” on someone else is both egocentric and meaningless.*

I see your point, but I do believe beauty can have an objective, absolute, universal quality which is neither able to be negated nor superseded by anyone’s subjective ideals of beauty (the eye of the beholder). While no one ought to demean another’s taste, I believe it is wholly possible to critically identify the lack or presence of Objective Beauty in a given piece of art. Within the sacred arts, this is true as well. If art directs & orients the beholder to God, and is thus indicative of the process of creation, it is then truly beautiful.

Chant is special to the Church, enjoys select approbation within the Liturgy, and is amongst the sacred patrimony of the Church.“On Eagle’s Wings,” no matter how touching to our feelings, will never.

 

[WintersKnight]

My ultimate favoriteof sacred songs: Allegri’s, Miserere.
]

 

[E.E.N.S]

In the same way, is there “better” music for worship?

If we are referring to liturgical music, then yes, we can say with certainty that there is a music that is “better” (or we could use the term "proper) than another. The Church speaks clearly on this matter.

Certainly we can discuss personal preference with regard to music, but individual spirituality is as equally unique and to try to impose my “spiritual aesthetic” on someone else is both egocentric and meaningless.

Personal preference outside of the Mass is one thing, but when we speak of a music that is proper and should be given pride of place within the liturgy then we (or the Church for that matter) are not simply imposing our preferences any more than saying when is proper to kneel, stand and sit in different parts of the Mass.

There is a difference between purely preferential options and what is proper. The Church allows some leeway, but that does not abrogate what is proper.

 

[BenedictOblate]

I see your point, but I do believe beauty can have an objective, absolute, universal quality which is neither able to be negated nor superseded by anyone’s subjective ideals of beauty (the eye of the beholder). While no one ought to demean another’s taste, I believe it is wholly possible to critically identify the lack or presence of Objective Beauty in a given piece of art. Within the sacred arts, this is true as well. If art directs & orients the beholder to God, and is thus indicative of the process of creation, it is then truly beautiful.

Chant is special to the Church, enjoys select approbation within the Liturgy, and is amongst the sacred patrimony of the Church.“On Eagle’s Wings,” no matter how touching to our feelings, will never.

I have difficulty QUANTIFYING beauty. It is hard for me to accept the suggestion that beauty is objective. “Objective Beauty”, if it existed, would be able to be agreed upon by everyone who experiences it regardless of a priori experience or knowledge. “Objective Beauty” should be so clearly evident that an alternative opinion wouldn’t even be considered. I do agree that within a particular group of people their can be defined standards of worth, but again, is that objective or is that simply choosing to define worth based on group preference? If there was such a thing as objective beauty, would there be Ambrosian chant or Mozarabic chant?

Art, and personal spirituality, are by their natures subjective. When we look at a piece of art or listen to a piece of music, we can not help but filter it through our life experience. The act of perceiving a piece of art, therefore, is unique to each individual.

The attempt at quantifying/identifying those traits that make a piece of art objectively beautiful reminds me of the scene in the movie Dead Poet’s Society when the boys are experiencing ‘Understanding Poetry,’ by Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D.

*To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme and figures of speech, then ask two questions: 1) How artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered and 2) How important is that objective? Question 1 rates the poem’s perfection; question 2 rates its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining the poem’s greatness becomes a relatively simple matter.

If the poem’s score for perfection is plotted on the horizontal of a graph and its importance is plotted on the vertical, then calculating the total area of the poem yields the measure of its greatness.

A sonnet by Byron might score high on the vertical but only average on the horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, thereby revealing the poem to be truly great. As you proceed through the poetry in this book, practice this rating method. As your ability to evaluate poems in this matter grows, so will, so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry.*

Do we really want to create a rubric in order to score our enjoyment of art? Do we really want to use a scorecard to measure our relationship to God? We are already bound by the legalism we inherited from the Romans that now influences our attitudes towards spirituality. So many of us view our spiritual lives as a checklist of do’s & don’ts, obligations and minimum expectations that it saddens me to think we feel the need view art and music the same way. It seems completely and utterly antithetical.

 

[BenedictOblate]

If we are referring to liturgical music, then yes, we can say with certainty that there is a music that is “better” (or we could use the term "proper) than another. The Church speaks clearly on this matter.

Personal preference outside of the Mass is one thing, but when we speak of a music that is proper and should be given pride of place within the liturgy then we (or the Church for that matter) are not simply imposing our preferences any more than saying when is proper to kneel, stand and sit in different parts of the Mass.

There is a difference between purely preferential options and what is proper. The Church allows some leeway, but that does not abrogate what is proper.

I don’t think we’re disputing what is proper. We were discussing what is Holy and what is Beautiful.

Certainly, we can all agree that some music is neither proper nor appropriate during mass. But, of that music which is proper, does some have greater worth? I suggest that the question of worth is subjective.

 

[E.E.N.S]

I don’t think we’re disputing what is proper. We were discussing what is Holy and what is Beautiful.

Certainly, we can all agree that some music is neither proper nor appropriate during mass. But, of that music which is proper, does some have greater worth? I suggest that the question of worth is subjective.

Perhaps, but then there may have been some obfuscation in the quotes I selected from your post to respond to, no?

 

[Brownginger]

I couldn’t attend Mass today, but I must admit that I did not miss the acute pain in my soul when the congregation was certain to have sung some Protestant Easter hymn/s. I keep hearing in the depths of my being the rendition of the Alleluia Chorus from Easters long ago. Too bad today’s choir directors often aren’t able to accomplish that task with their charges.

 

[HolyHandGrenade]

I don’t understand why anyone in the Roman Rite would want to substitute Gregorian chant (a form given to us by God through Pope Saint Gregory the Great) with any form of secular style of music.

 

[patrick457]

I don’t understand why anyone in the Roman Rite would want to substitute Gregorian chant (a form given to us by God through Pope Saint Gregory the Great) with any form of secular style of music.

Ah, this is where things are a little sketchy.

It has become common knowledge that Pope Gregory was the source of Gregorian Chant, and people pretty much assumed it to be the sole chant tradition of the Roman Church. However, certain discoveries in the 19th century (which were not given proper attention until the 20th century!) has put the veracity of the story into question, at least among experts.

Before 1891, no serious enquiry had been made into the direct origins of Roman Chant or its forerunners. It was in that year when a monk from the famous Benedictine monastery of Solesmes, Dom André Mocquereau (1849-1930), as part of his research into the manuscript tradition of Gregorian chant, published an account of three books he discovered in the Vatican Library: two Graduals (Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Archivio di San Pietro, MS lat. 5319 and MS F. 22) and an Antiphonary (MS B.79), all dating from somewhere between the 11th and the 13th century.

Now what intrigued Dom Mocquereau about these manuscripts was that although the material in these sources covered the same liturgical feasts as did the Gregorian books (showing that they were related to each other), it was melodically distinct from both it, as well as with Ambrosian chant. He wrote a letter to his abbot:

I must tell you of a discovery we made at the Vatican, and that continues to astonish us. Perhaps Dom Pothier will be able to explain what I am going to say? It is a 12th-century Gradual, certainly of the Roman liturgy, with the exception of some slight peculiarities, but in which the chant is not the one used in all manuscripts in all countries. This is a singular exception that intrigues me. For a time, I had thought that the Ambrosian chant had replaced the Gregorian chant; but this is not the case, because in this new chant the universal Gregorian chant is easy to recognize, but with constant variations that give it a very special character. This is surely an Italian manuscript, as proven by the notation. One note that I found, I no longer know where, advances the unsubstantiated notion that it belonged to St. John Lateran. We have yet to see the Archives at that Basilica; are surprises of this kind awaiting us there, perhaps? I have no idea. I would be most interested to know what the Reverend Father Dom Joseph Pothier thinks about all this. I have not yet studied this curious manuscript in detail, because I had hoped to manage to get it to Solesmes.
Pothier wrote a reply dated the 8th of April, asking to “bring us as many details as possible,” and noting that at St. Peter’s “they still use not only ancient hymns, but even a special Psalter that dates from far back.”

Eventually publishing the results of his study of the manuscripts, Dom Mocquereau then concluded that this repertory, which he recognized as distinct from Ambrosian and Gregorian chant, seems to date from a “relatively recent period, when the rules of Gregorian composition were beginning to fall into disuse.” (Paléographie Musicale, volume II, pp. 4-5, footnote 1) In short, it was a later corruption of Gregorian chant.

Contrary to this view, fellow Benedictine Dom Raphael Andoyer, who after analysing the same sources, expressed the opinion in 1911-12 that they actually represented an earlier stage of musical development than that of Gregorian - a stage he defined as ‘pre-Gregorian’ (ante-grégorien). For Dom Andoyer, these melodies are the ones which Pope Gregory the Great organized and revised (thus he views Gregory’s ‘authorship’ of plainchant, rather than composing it outright, in the strict sense) into what would become known as Gregorian chant.

After this, the subject was abandoned and left to gather dust; no new or authoritative conclusions were reached until 1950, when German musicologist Bruno Stäblein published several articles dedicated on the subject, declaring these manuscripts to be prime examples of what he called “Old Roman” (Altrömisch) chant. From his time on the problem of Old Roman chant became the object of wide-ranging investigation, and even today it claims the close attention of many experts.

 

[patrick457]

We must note here a couple of interesting and inescapable questions, for which an explanation was needed: among the hundreds of medieval manuscripts of Gregorian chant, there is not one which is known to have been used or written at Rome before the mid-13th century, and the very few sources of definite Roman origin which date from before that period contain similar material to that of Gregorian books, but are different from a melodic point of view - and these manuscripts happen to be the ones which Dom Mocquereau discovered (and dismissed as late corruptions)!

In Stäblein’s view, both the ‘Old Roman’, which he takes to be the one edited by Gregory the Great, and the newer ‘Gregorian’ - a later revision which he dated from the reign of Pope Vitalian (657-672) - coexisted and were being used simultaneously in Rome. Basing his argument on the evidence of an Ordo Romanus which ascribes an active interest in the revision of chant to eight Popes - from Damasus (366-384) to Martin (649-653) - and to three abbots of the Roman monastery of St. Peter (Catolenus, Marianus and Virbonus), Stäblein held that the three abbots are to be credited for the reformation of Roman chant.

The transformation, according to him, would have taken place before 680, when John the archicantor of St. Peter’s was sent by Pope Agatho (reign 678-681) to England, ostensibly to teach singing there. This dating, in Stäblein’s opinion, is confirmed by what certain sources relate about the work of Vitalian, during whose pontificate the chant in the Papal liturgy was apparently performed by the group of cantors named Vitaliani after their founder. By the 11th to the 13th centuries, Stäblein continues, the situation was such that the Old Roman style of plainchant continued to be employed in the monasteries of the Lateran, while the Papal palace used the ‘Gregorian’. The substance of his argument went largely unchanged as time went on, though Stäblein was compelled to make slight adjustments due to the criticism of other scholars (for example, about the mission of the cantors to England). In brief, he hypothesizes the idea of a transformation at Rome of Old Roman into Gregorian, and the coexistence of the two traditions (respectively, as the chant of the Papal liturgy and the chant of the other Roman churches) until the 13th century.

A similar position was taken up by Joseph Smits van Waesberghe, who believed however that the monastic institutions of Rome used Gregorian chant, while the secular clergy kept using the Old Roman style of plainchant. His idea was criticized, however, by other scholars due to his excessive dependence on the Liber Pontificalis (which has undergone intense modern scholarly scrutiny) and for making an over-strict and historically unfounded distinction between Roman monks and secular clergymen. His critics also raised an objection used against Stäblein’s thesis: that there is no incontrovertible proof either that a reform of chant took place in 7th-century Rome or that the two repertories existed side-by-side there until the mid-13th century.

Allowing for more or less personal emphases, other scholars (such as Fr. Stephen J.P. Van Dijk O.F.M., and Ewald Stammers) accepted Stäblein’s idea of the coexistence of the two repertories, and also took into account a fact confirmed by liturgical historians, according to whom Rome had witnessed over a long period the coexistence of the Papal liturgy (which was undergoing a continual, yet gradual, process of reform) and the liturgy of the presbytal tituli, i.e. the parish churches served by non-Curial clergy.

 

[patrick457]

In 1954, Michel Huglo published an exhaustive directory (Le chant ‘vieux-romain’: liste des manuscrits et temoins indirects, Sacris Erudiri 6) of Old Roman sources both direct - that is, Graduals and Antiphonaries - and indirect, demonstrating thereby that this chant was the official repertory at Rome towards the mid-8th century, in about 1140, and in the 13th century. Old Roman was thus to be seen as a local repertory of specifically Roman origin (like the Ambrosian chant of Milan or Beneventan chant) which had nonetheless spread into central Italy and had even left traces in the monastic centers of the Carolingian Empire (Stäblein has shown that it was in use as far away as St. Gall in present-day Switzerland in the 9th century) before Gregorian chant had gained the upper hand. Although he came to no conclusion regarding the origins of Gregorian chant, Huglo was prepared to state that Old Roman was the only form of chant familiar to the entire Roman clergy of the period; and this was a clear enough indication that the origins of Gregorian should be looked for outside Rome.

Musicologist Helmut Hucke took up the challenge, when developing an alternative line of argument to that of Stäblein. In Hucke’s view, the point of departure of Gregorian is Old Roman, which underwent a transformation in Frankish territory during the Carolingian era.

As everyone who has studied the history of the Roman Rite pretty much knows, the Roman liturgy starting from the Middle Ages is actually a hybrid between the Gallican family of rites and the original liturgy in use at Rome. It all started in 754, when the first King of the Franks, Pepin the Short decreed the adoption of the Papal liturgy in his kingdom. It was the time when the Roman liturgy, which until then, apart from the Anglo-Saxon mission Church, had possessed and laid claim to recognition only for Rome and its environs, advanced in a short time to becoming the liturgy of a great empire.

Of course, as soon as the Roman way of worship was introduced in Frankish territory, its started to absorb local elements. It is often related that Charlemagne, Pepin’s son, once asked Pope Hadrian I to provide an authentic Roman sacramentary for use throughout the empire, which the latter sent to the court at Aachen around in the year 785-786. The intention was to preserve it as the authentic “standard” of the text attributed to Pope St. Gregory the Great and to disseminate it throughout all of Charlemagne’s domain through copies, thereby unifying the whole empire under one liturgy - that of Rome. However, the sacramentary the Pope sent soon proved to be ill-suited to the Emperor’s plan: it only contained the liturgy for certain feasts, which would make it ill-adapted to the daily liturgical needs of a parish! When complaints reached the ear of the Pope, his excuse was saying that he merely picked from the Lateran library what seemed to him to be the best sacramentary he had! Recognizing the obvious unsuitability of the book, the court liturgists decided to correct the text (especially its rather mediocre Latin) and then to augment it with a supplement - derived from the local traditions - so that it could serve for the daily liturgy. The result of this work is the Hadrianum, aka the Hadrian Sacramentary.

Eventually, this hybrid Roman-Frankish liturgy started creeping its way into the Eternal City itself, eventually supplanting its own parent altogether. Church life in Rome was stagnent during the saeculum obscurum of the first half of the 10th century; there was a liturgical vacuum, which the Gallo-Roman liturgy refilled. This took place both through the direct intervention of the Holy Roman Empire and by the settlement of the Cluniacs in monasteries of Rome or its neighborhood.

Hucke’s idea was that Old Roman chant would have shared the same fate as that of the Roman liturgy, to which it is tagged: it would have encountered the Gallic repertories and would have been transformed into what would be known into later ages as ‘Gregorian’ not only by an inevitable process of ‘contamination’ but above all by being deliberately adapted for aesthetic reasons. Whatever the value of the latter motive, it should not be forgotten that musical notation did not exist yet, and the repertory would have been handed on by memory.

 

[patrick457]

Hucke’s idea received support from writers such as Willi Apel and Robert J. Snow, while Walther Lipphardt, although claiming that Gregorian chant was the Frankish version of a Roman original, maintained that the melodic material exported from Rome was accepted in Frankish domains without any modification; thus Gregorian would be nothing more than the Roman chant of the 9th century. Apart from this detail, these are the broad lines of the second hypothesis: the birth of Gregorian in what is now France as a result of the impact of Roman chant on the local Gallican traditions.

Part of the reason why Gregorian chant succeeded in gaining the upper hand, it seems, was facilitated by two factors: the invention of a process of writing the melody, which represents a turn in musical history, and its being attributed to one of the most famous characters in Christendom - Pope Gregory the Great.

There are now various alternative theories as to why Gregorian chant got its name, aside from the standard interpretation that it was named after Gregory the Great, and not without their own critics. One proposes that the name actually refers to a different Gregory (one popular candidate here is the 8th-century pope Gregory II) - a theory that already existed even before Old Roman chant was actually discovered - while another says that the name was actually the result of (Carolingian?) propaganda by appealing to higher authority to give vindication for the abandonment of local chant traditions in favor of the (Frankish-) Roman style of chanting. After all, who could go wrong with Gregory’s music?

 

[ajpirc]

I don’t understand why anyone in the Roman Rite would want to substitute Gregorian chant (a form given to us by God through Pope Saint Gregory the Great) with any form of secular style of music.

Amen!!

 

[Crumpy]

What happened to Catholics listening to Gregorian Chants? The only type of music that Catholics are listening to now is that Christian rock and modern Christian music. In my opinion, this is the farthest religious music from holiness (it’s not very beautiful either). I feel as though I am one of the only Catholics still proud of our holy, beautiful, and trditional Gregorian Chants (and I’m only 16). I never knew the traditional Church. If anyone else feels the same way, please reply.

Fr. Mitch Pacwa had a guest on “EWTN Live” program about a year or two back to discuss Gregorian chant.

They talked about it for more than a half hour and then I managed to get on the air with a question for them. I mentioned that I couldn’t understand the words when I heard G-chant and I said that was a drawback. Their response was, not at all. In fact, they were almost hardly concerned that anybody could understand the lyrics.

I know the Church in modern times has upheld the beauty of G-chant, but I think it’s junk. According to their idea, the music is essentially pure emotion. Give me a break. If you listened to 100 G-chants, you’d hardly be able to distinguish one from another. What’s the point?

beauty? perhaps, in the ear of the beholder. But, ***give me ***some solid music that I can sing and understand.

If there were a place for G-chant, it might be in an old gothic style church, with lots of surfaces to echo off of. I think it would be out of place in today’s modern “spaces.” It’s virtually as about as meaningless (to me) as a modern Catholic parish church which has windows that are just colored glass panes, instead of actual window pictures.

I’m thinking of a local parish that has a “window” that is on an angle, to begin with. It’s about 1 and 1/2 foot tall and about 45 feet long. Hard to make a real picture on that, to begin with.

 

[Crumpy]

I lived through the Vatican council of the 1960’s as a young teenager.

When I heard that the Mass was going to be in English, what I expected was that there was going to be a parallel explosion of English hymns, whose melody and lyrics would at least match if not exceed the Latin versions of that era.

But, I can say that in almost 50 years, I have not seen that renaissance of English based hymns and music.

We should have been almost anticipating this, with the wonderful music such as Handel’s Messiah, in English, which was already “out there.”

There was very artistic music on EWTN, until the Sisters left to their new nunnery in Hanceville. EWTN is basically back to the 1960’s and, of course, that’s the way THEY like it. I’ve never seen anything more political in the Church than the dictatorship of low quality music at Mass.

Back in the 60’s and 70’s, somebody picked guitar music with tambourines, and THAT WAS IT! Like it or not, there it is. And, the Council had said NOTHING about introducing bad music; if anything, it encouraged just the opposite. But, suddenly the expensive church organs were just junk, and we got piano and guitar music.

I mean, who decided that piano music was THE standard for Mass? There are people out to destroy the church, and there are musicians among them.

G-chant has a feature that preserves one particular characteristic that I don’t think should be abandoned – choral performances. In the late 60’s there was an OVER-emphasis on the congregation doing all the singing, because they were supposed to participate in the Mass more – so that drove the cheapening of the music.

The other element was that there were all these new songs – ditties – with impressionistic interpretations of the psalms, for example, rather than a more literal rendering of the psalms.

Songs should teach as much as anything else. What does G-chant teach? nothing. It’s at the end of the spectrum of non-participatory music – we can’t even tell what they’re singing about.

I respect others’ opinions and feelings. I just want to express mine, because in nearly 50 years, no one has inquired what I like.

I was in a Bible study group of sorts. There was a lady who did the singing at the early Sunday Mass. She sung in such a high key, that she couldn’t always hit the notes. How were the average people in church supposed to sing, if she couldn’t? I came dangerously close to expressing my opinion when she was a part of that study group.