Musical minims make me crotchety

Dreadful pun containing a misused word, I know - but this post was inevitable, so bear with me once more. I am a trained musician, skilled as an operatic singer, holding a Master's degree in musicology and Bachelor's in voice. During the 1970s, much of my concentration was on liturgical music, and my MA thesis was on that topic. With the liturgical changes in full force - and, in theory, they were very promising, even if we've all lived to see that they can be quite different in practise - it seemed an exciting time. I was involved with associations of church musicians, a budding institute of liturgical music, a hymnal commission, and other efforts, all involving highly competent musicians, which gave promise of a renaissance for Roman Catholic worship.

I still cannot say precisely what happened which brought about the later conditions, which were dismal. Yet I know very well that, when I had to leave the Religious life, the situations had changed greatly. There are exceptions (and I'll get to that in a moment), but, overall, soloists were regarded with a contempt normally reserved to those who poison popes. Choirs were relegated to being only there to 'support' congregational singing. Anyone sitting in the congregation who was any good at singing was expected to quietly croon, lest those nearby hear a decent voice and not sing. Funerals (as I first saw when attending one for a priest friend in 1986) meant song leaders and congregational singing of the worst sort.

I personally believe that Westminster Cathedral has one of the best choirs in the world, and their music programme, even at the packed daily services of Vespers and the Eucharist, is outstanding. According to the viewpoints which led to the demise of any musical vision for parishes, the cathedral does everything wrong. It should be empty! The marvellous choir performing classical pieces is 'supposed' to be a travesty. Accomplished organists who do not merely play softly in the background are 'performing' rather than supporting the worshipping community. People cannot 'relate' to wonderful music, and will run away crying if there is any piece in which they do not participate (participation being narrowly defined as 'everyone must sing everything'), since that means it is not 'their' liturgy. (Following that line of reasoning, no one should feel part of a liturgy at which s/he is not celebrant, lector, et al combined, but I don't want to go off on too many tangents today.)

Why, then, is every service so well attended? Pews are filled with people of all ages and backgrounds. Many join in chants, most in hymns - and there are no song leaders (though, at Vespers, there is the rare presence of a genuine Cantor.)

I realise, of course, that most parishes would not have the resources to present music as splendid as that at the cathedral. My point is far simpler. Church music, which had such promise thirty years ago, was killed not by serious musicians but by those who actually had an animosity towards music. Oh, indeed those influential in parishes often wanted hymns and more hymns, none of which could be more than 5 years old, all of which had to be within the range of those tone deaf. In an unwitting insult to the intelligence of the congregation, it was assumed that no one could 'relate' to anything above the dismal.

This would not lead to empty pews, of course. Roman Catholics, I would say more than those of any other sister church, are quite likely to attend weekly Mass because it is an 'obligation.' An obedient lot by comparison with others, they also will not disobey the regulation about attending Mass in one's 'own' parish (defined by post code.) Nor would people be likely to complain - those who did would be treated in a condescending fashion, as if they had not sufficiently participated in the 'educative process for the people,' or could not accept what was outside their 'comfort zone.'

Recently, I attended an Anglican Eucharist where two young men were seated very near me. I was singing full voice, knowing that, on this territory, that did not place me in danger of excommunication - and the fellows, who obviously were trained musicians as well, joined in the rather intricate tenor and bass parts. I found it very uplifting - I really felt wrapped in prayer and praise. Had it been a Catholic service, at best we'd have been censured for destroying 'community.'

Thomas Day's "Why Catholics Can't Sing" is a worthwhile book, but it needs a companion volume. Day deals only with congregational singing, not with the valuable role which can be played by accomplished musicians. Of course, RC parishes often can learn much about music from the C of E, but might be misled by seeing that the latter's attendance is lower.

The Roman Catholic Church has as rich a heritage of the aesthetic as any other institution. Perhaps one day this will be reclaimed... but I have no hopes that this will be in my lifetime. Too many of those who became very influential in parishes had no background in music, theology, or liturgy, but in the religious education of children. They were locked in a mindset where everyone was just beginning to read and had trouble singing "London Bridge is Falling Down" without falling into three keys in the process. (In class, that is. Kids can sing anything on the playground.)

For once, I shall quote a lyric from a musical composition which is not outstanding by any standard - Don McLean's "American Pie." "I knew that I was out of luck the day the music died."