What I'm Up To: February 2015

The Grotto, Notre Dame University

Hello, readers! I know that in the past I have occasionally posted little updates from my personal life (e.g. remodelling my room or shopping finds) but have never really committed to regularly posting about what's going on in my corner of the galaxy. However, this year I decided I'm going to commit to writing a little blurb every month or so about what I have been up to lately -- partly because these will take a little less time than my usual blog posts (which means more blog posts!), and partly because I know I enjoy reading about the goings on of the blog authors I follow, so I hope you feel the same!

I just started my second semester as a DMA student in organ performance at Notre Dame University. I will be completely honest, I did not want to go back to school this semester -- which is very odd for me, as I have never experienced this before. I used to like school. I love to learn, I love to study, and I love to read, so much so that when I was finishing up my last semester at Franciscan U. as an undergrad, I was one of the few seniors who did *not* suffer from acute senioritis. Well, it hit me this year, BIG TIME, and the bad news is : I have two and a half years to go before I am handed my expensive piece of paper saying I am a doctor!

Over winter break, I kept asking myself -- why don't you want to go back? And I came up with three reasons:

1) Part of it was due to a few of the classes I took last fall, which left me dissatisfied and frustrated, but that happens, and that's not enough to quit school.

2) Part of it was  due to my frustration with myself. The organ at Notre Dame is unlike any instrument I have encountered thus far in my career as an organist. It is extremely sensitive to the touch of the player, forcing him/her to be very precise when they play. For this reason, most of my lessons and practice time have been focused largely on technique rather than learning lots of repertoire. Improving performance technique is good and extremely important, but I have to be patient with myself, and that's hard because I can usually pick up things relatively quickly. 

3) But I think the primary reason why I wanted to leave was because of my internship as a music director! As some of you know, I started working as the music director at a small episcopal church near Notre Dame and, as it turns out, I love being a music director! While it has definitely challenged me in many ways, (there are currently six people in our choir including myself), there are definitely a lot of good things going on (I get to play one of the best instruments in town every week), and it came to the point where I wished I could forget school and doctoral recitals and dissertations so I could devote all of my energy and time to building up the music program at this church!

So some of you are probably wondering, why don't you just leave?

Three things: 1) The organ and my teacher have shown me that I still have a lot to learn, and so I am going to take advantage of both of these fantastic teachers while I still can! 2) There are plenty of other church musician skills which I can learn and improve upon while I am in school, especially things like vocal technique (a.k.a. good singing techniques), choral conducting, how to cultivate a healthy, vibrant children's choir, how to fund raise, etc. In short, there are still plenty of gaps in my training which I would like to try and fill as much as possible before I head out into the job field! 3) And *least* importantly, I still want to be able to write the letters "Dr." in front of my name someday... and I hope that doesn't sound terribly pretentious...

So far, this semester has been better ... I am making progress with my recital music *and* my technique (woo!), I like all of my classes, and I am taking voice lessons on the side both for my own personal development and (more importantly) to gain more experience/knowledge as a singer so I feel more confident standing in front of a church choir!
 
So, yes, I may not be able to be a full-fledged music director I want to be just yet (and, as I understand it, this is constantly a work-in-progress), but on the bright side, I suppose it's good to find out that you enjoy what you want to do!

Until next time!

Reading: Kristin Lavransdatter: The Wife by Sigrid Undset
Watching: Downton Abbey, Agent Carter
Listening: Alice in Wonderland Soundtrack by Danny Elfman
Quote: "It was Freak who told me about King Arthur. How he got this round table, and how he got the bravest knights, and the whole world to sit at that table. 'You will be brothers,' said King Arthur. 'And you will fight for all those who ask for help. You will be gentle to the weak, but terrible to the wicked.' It was Freak who told me about King Arthur. It was Freak who told me everything." -- The Mighty, 1998.

Into the Woods is not a Morality Play

Over the holiday season, I went with a couple of friends to see the film adaption of Into the Woods. I first watched Sondheim's musical during my senior year of college via the video recording of the original production on Broadway, and I must admit, I did not like it the first time. I enjoyed the first half, but I was uncomfortable with the moral ambiguity of the second half.

Nevertheless, I must admit I was excited when I saw the previews for the new film adaption (but who doesn't love the idea of Meryl Streep playing a fabulous witch, let's be honest)! Furthermore, my first impression of the story was removed enough that I thought I could approach the story again with a cleansed palate. And I must say that I enjoyed the second viewing much more than the first, appreciating the second half much more. Why? Because unlike typical traditional fables and fairy tales, I realized that Into the Woods is not meant to serve as a morality play/story.

I think that Sondheim was trying to write a modern fairy tale -- not modern in setting where a classic story of good and evil takes place in contemporary society, but modern in the sense that the characters, their values, and their choices reflect tendencies in 20th and 21st century society. In other words, if the story of Cinderella took place according to the values of modern society, what might have happened? I think this mode of interpretation is key to understanding the underlying themes of Into the Woods and reconciling these values with viewers who aline themselves with a more conservative value system. To be sure, this interpretation does not justify the moral choices of some of the characters, nor does it make it appropriate for young audiences. Nevertheless, I do believe it is an intriguing study for mature audiences that shows the artistic brilliance of Sondheim as a contemporary storyteller.  

How does the show reflect tendencies in 20th and 21st century society?

*SPOILER ALERT* 

#1. Indecision. One of my personal favorites is the character Cinderella. Cinderella represents the millenial generation, those of my generation who are floating from one job to another because they are uncertain what they really want in life. She knows she ought to marry the Prince and escape her impoverished, abusive life with her step-family, but she's uncertain if that's what she really wants. The outcome of her story proves that her misgivings are not unfounded, but her inability to commit to a decision is a common trait among many of my own friends and extended family.

#2. Greed/Ambition vs. Gratitude. This is represented most clearly by the Prince and the Baker's wife, who by the second half have had their wishes come true (a child for the Baker and his wife and a bride for the Prince. And yet, the fulfillment of their wishes leaves them unsatisfied and somewhat disappointed. Thus, they fall prey to lust and in a moment of passion commit an act of adultery. The trouble is that they ought to be satisfied with what they have. Both seem to have a good life -- not perfect, but good -- yet both are still unsatisfied. Although Sondheim's conception of dissatisfaction is realized in the form of lust and adultery, it is also actualized in our culture's rampant materialism. Jack follows a similar pattern though in a different way. He experiences a sexual awakening while visiting the giant for the first time. But lust and curiosity drive him to visit the giant again and again, eventually bringing trouble and even death to the villagers, including his own mother. As actress Emily Blunt (the Baker's wife) stated beautifully in the featurette regarding the themes of the story, "You should look at what you have rather than what you want."

#3. Niceness vs. Goodness. The Witch informs a group of the characters towards the climax of the film, "You're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice." Similarly, when Cinderella confronts her prince about his infidelity, he retorts, "I was raised to be charming, not sincere." Nowadays, we are far more careful to be "nice" rather than good. Being nice to people as a general rule means being polite and not offending people, tolerating other views and life choices which we may not necessarily agree with ourselves. Now not all of this is a bad thing. It is important to be kind, to be polite, and to be tolerant of others, but we should never have to sacrifice things like telling the truth, making the right choice, or our own integrity, for the sake of niceness. And more importantly, as Red Riding Hood points out, "Nice is different than good." Being a nice person does not necessarily make you a good person.

In spite of some of the dark themes which Sondheim explores in his musical, I believe he demonstrates that there is hope for our society through the fate of Jack. The remaining characters ultimately refuse to give up Jack to the giant. While goodness and morality are more than just saving a life, this is one of the most crucial moments in the musical as the characters come to terms with the negative consequences of the choices they made during the course of the story. They have made mistakes in the past, but in the climactic moment they have the courage to make the right choice and work together to save themselves and their fellow villagers. They realize that they have made mistakes; they have not always made the right choices; getting what you wish is not always everything that you hoped for.

Although Into the Woods is certainly not a morality play, it rings true in its portrayal of fundamental elements of fallen human nature and I think this is one of the reasons it has become such a favorite with audiences. It shows us that we all have both light and darkness inside of us. In the words of Sirius Black, "What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are." Yes, we sin. Yes, we make mistakes. But in the words of Thomas Wayne/Alfred, "Why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up." 

So if there is a moral to Into the Woods, I suppose it would be this: learn from your mistakes, be careful what you wish for, and be grateful for what you have. 

Saint Thomas Becket, Murder in the Cathedral

Saint Thomas Becket, (21 Dec. c. 1118 (or 1120) -- 29 Dec. 1170.

Today is the feast day of Saint Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, and martyr for the Catholic faith. In some ways, his story is remarkably similar to that of Saint Thomas More, whom he preceded by several centuries. Both men maintained a loyal friendship to the English monarch and fiercely devoted to the Catholic faith, which eventually led to irreconcilable differences ultimately costing them their lives. Before his appointment as Archbishop, Thomas led a life of lavish abundance. However, upon appointment, he forsook his materialistic lifestyle and gave up all claims to earthly wealth, a remarkable choice when one considers that this choice was not required of his position at the time.

"This stark, 'cold turkey' separation, this radical embrace of a life of spiritual and physical simplicity, was undoubtedly challenging, overwhelming, and initially undesirable. ... But he denied, with prayer and fasting, this area of temptation in order to focus solely on the Source of the strength and grace that he knew would be necessary to remain faithful in such a perilous and controversial role. This Source was summoned and accepted upon the martyrdom of St. Thomas, when his executioners sought him out in the cloistered abbey where he lived in 1170. Taking his life in the abbey’s Cathedral, between the altars of Our Lady and St. Benedict, St. Thomas exclaimed to his executioners, 'For the name of Jesus and in defense of the Church I am willing to die.'"

St. Thomas' martyrdom has been the subject of numerous literary and film adaptions. One of the most famous is T.S. Eliot's verse drama titled Murder in the Cathedral. First performed in 1935, it was deeply influenced by the eyewitness account of the murder by Edward Grim, a clerk at Cambridge who authored a biography of St. Thomas published in 1180. Grim was visiting Canterbury Cathedral when Becket was attacked and attempted to protect the archbishop, but was seriously wounded in the attempt.

Snow White and Rose Red by ejbeachy from Deviantart

I first came across Eliot's retelling via another retelling: the young adult novel The Shadow of the Bear by Regina Doman, a modern adaption of the Grimm fairytale Snow White and Rose Red. In the first chapter, two sisters meet a homeless stranger, a young man who calls himself Bear. The three young people find that they share a love for poetry, especially T.S. Eliot. It so happens that Bear's favorite poem is Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral, foreshadowing the events which are to unfold as the sisters become entangled in their new friend's dark past, involving murder, betrayal, and a secret treasure trove. Passages of the drama are quoted throughout the novel, and thus I discovered the beauty and wisdom of Eliot!

Similar to the ancient Greek tragedies such as Sophocles' Oedipus Rex, a chorus comments on the events as the story progresses, serving as a link between the characters and the audience. I conclude with one of the final passages, a particularly compelling prayer  in which the chorus becomes the audience, the common man. Likewise, may the prayer of the chorus become our prayer, especially on this St. Thomas' feast day.

"Forgive us, O Lord, we acknowledge ourselves as type of the common man,
Of the men and women who shut the door and sit by the fire;
Who fear the blessing of God, the loneliness of the night of God, the surrender required, the deprivation inflicted;
Who fear the injustice of men less than the justice of God…
…Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us. 

Blessed Thomas, pray for us."

Sources cited: 
http://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/st-thomas-beckets-path-to-winning-the-crown/1287/

A New Look & A New Name

I apologize that it has taken me so long to do this. This explanation is long over-due, but since I have become a doctoral student, time is precious and when I come home from school I frequently do not have much in the way of creative brain power to blog as often as I would like. That aside...
... As some of you may have noticed, I revamped various aspects of my blog over the past several months! You may also remember that this blog was originally created under the title "Smatterings of Reverie from Bag Shot Row." When I first created my blog, it was meant as a place where I could share art, quotes, music, and the like, a.k.a. "Smatterings of Reverie." However, as time has passed, this blog has evolved from a place to share art and beauty to a place to talk about art and beauty. And so I decided to give it a makeover! I wanted to keep the allusion to Tolkien and Middle Earth, which was my first love and obsession while I was in high school and remains to this day one of my favorite novels. I also wanted to create a more rustic, charming, yet cozy atmosphere evoking Bag End itself, and I feel as though I have succeeded for the most part!
Since this blog has evolved more into a discussion and occasionally dialogue revolving around art, beauty, and culture, "quibble"  (definition: a slight objection or criticism) seemed like an apt alteration to the title -- though its similarity to the title of the wizard tabloid "The Quibbler" from the world of Harry Potter is no coincidence! And finally, the tea reference not only encompasses a variety of my favorite things -- from hobbits to Lewis to British culture -- but also serves as a delightful companion to any good discussion!

Modern Sacred Music in the 20th Century, Part II: Messiaen & Britten

To read Part I, click here.

Olivier Messiaen (1908-1992)

Olivier Messiaen (1908-1992) may aptly be described as one of the most idiosyncratic composers of the twentieth century. Rather than adhering to a particular school or style, he preferred to create his own unique musical voice through the combination of influences including birdsong, eastern rhythms, his own modes of limited transposition, and his religious beliefs. Although he did not come from a religious family, Messiaen was a devoted Roman Catholic whose faith and interest in mysticism deeply impacted his compositional output. Like Duruflé, he also served as a church musician for almost his entire career and believed that Gregorian chant was the true native music of the Roman Catholic liturgy. Perhaps this explains why his motet O Sacrum Convivium serves as his only work (outside of specific solo organ compositions) designated for liturgical use. Composed in 1937 for SATB a cappella choir, his motet appears relatively early in his ouvre, which perhaps partially explains its reserved musical language. The text, in keeping with Messiaen’s preference for mystical subjects, consists of a meditation on the mystery of the Eucharist written by St. Thomas Aquinas. The motet’s restrained dissonances and muted colors resemble those of late 19th and early 20th century composers such as Fauré and Poulenc, though they sound remarkably conservative when compared to the majority of Messiaen’s work. The rhythmic values, combined into groups of two or three eighth notes, bear the marks of the Solesmes monks interpretation of Gregorian chant (a trait also found in the chant-based works of Duruflé). The texture is primarily homophonic, drawing attention to the lilting, almost ethereal melody in the soprano line. Rather than reciting the text verbatim, Messiaen rearranges the text to create a dramatic arch within the piece. The choir sings through the first three phrases of the text at a pianissimo, crescendoing slightly at “the mind is filled with grace,” then diminishing as it reverently repeats the words “O sacrum.”  There is a slight pause, then he reiterates the opening material, steadily building to a majestic forte as the melody soars up to an A on “futurae gloriae.” As the chorus sings “Alleluia,” the soprano line languidly descends, the texture softening into a pianissimo. The motet concludes with a sonorous major chord in the lower parts, the melody rocking gently to and fro on a subtle dissonance as gentle as a lullaby.

___

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976)

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) in some ways appears as a bit of an anomaly among the composers included in this discussion. Messiaen and Duruflé were fervent Catholics. Pärt is a member of the Russian Orthodox faith. By contrast, Britten preferred to distance himself from organized religion for the majority of his life. Nevertheless, he wrote a number of choral works for use in worship, Protestant as well as Catholic. These works have earned a permanent place in the choral repertoire due to Britten's ability to combine inventive and modern styles with accessibility to both the tastes of average congregations and the abilities of amateur -- albeit trained -- church choirs. Although perhaps it was not as influential as in the cases of the aforementioned composers, Britten was certainly well acquainted with plainsong and made considerable use of it as seen in works such as the Ceremony of Carols, the Hymn to Saint Peter, the church parable Curlew River, and the cantata Saint Nicolas. 

Britten composed his Hymn to the Virgin when he was sixteen while laid up in the school sanatorium, taking the text from his copy of The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1200-1900, a book he had won as a prize. The text dates from the 14th century and serves as a devotional rather than liturgical prayer, combining Latin and Middle English texts to create a prayer in which the church militant meditate upon the Blessed Mother and ask her intercession. Composed for double choir, the four-part homophonic texture lends the work a beautiful clarity akin to that of hymnody, while the melismas on the Latin words imitate harmonized plainsong. The harmonic language appears to draw from the early English music revival, a revival which originated in the late 19th century and characterized by a renewed interest in the music of William Byrd and other English polyphonic composers. It also included the tradition of English folk song. Composers not only studied this music but also sought to imitate it in new compositions. Britten would later reject this trend, but the modal harmonies of the Hymn do just the opposite, complimenting the medieval text. Though the harmony and texture are simple, Britten imbues the piece with drama by having the two choruses present the text antiphonally: one choir sings in English while the other comments on or completes the thought in Latin. The choirs sing separately in the first two verses, the drama building in the second verse. Then both forces join together in verse three, the soprano of Choir I and all of Choir II singing the melody while the lower voices of Choir I ascend in largely stepwise motion, climaxing on the phrase,“Lady, queen of paradise.” The hymn concludes in mystical tranquility, ending with the familiar lilting melisma from the previous verses.

Conclusion

 Throughout the 20th century, the Catholic Church encouraged the composition of modern forms of sacred music. On November 22, 2003, the anniversary of the promulgation of St. Pius X’s motu proprio Tra Le Sollecitudini, St. John Paul II wrote, “This does not mean copying Gregorian chant, but rather seeing to it that new compositions be pervaded by the same spirit that gave rise to and so molded that chant. Only an artist profoundly immersed in the sensus Ecclesiae may try to perceive and translate into melody the truth of the Mystery that is celebrated in the Liturgy.”

How could the traditional language of sacred music be reconciled with the new musical languages of Debussy and Ravel, the serialist techniques of Schoenberg, and other modern trends? The 20th century produced a significant number of composers of religious and sacred music capable of meeting this challenge. These four composers were able to integrate elements of the past with elements of the present to create a musical language of their own. French composers Duruflé and Messiaen combined the colorful harmonies of the French school with various elements of Gregorian chant, ranging from direct quotation and variation to rhythmic inspiration hearkening to the Solesmes interpretation. Duruflé also incorporated 19th century elements as seen in the romantic melodies in the middle section of the Gloria and in the Benedictus. Arvo Pärt engineered his tintinnabuli style from the foundations of tonality (such as the triad), elements of plainsong and Renaissance polyphony, and certain aspects of 20th century serialism. In his Hymn to the Virgin, Britten likewise incorporates traditional elements of English modality and hymnody into a new mystical and dynamic language. All of these composers manage to use elements of the old to create something new in keeping with the spirit of the liturgy without sounding antiquarian.

The music of Messiaen, Britten, Duruflé, and Pärt prove that it is possible to compose new sacred music in keeping with the spirit of the liturgy. The integration of the old traditions of sacred music with the dynamic creativity of these four composers did not result in the archaic survival of a dead culture but rather served as the instigator for new innovations in sacred music. Their compositions breath the spirit of ancient religious chant, but the overall idiom is decidedly modern. They prove that the model of plainsong, far from limiting the composer, instructs him in the qualities of true art in keeping with the sacramental nature of liturgical music. It is in this way that cultural innovation gives birth to new forms of expression, new forms which serve as worthy successors of the timeless masterpieces of the past.

Artists, be Dominicans and Preach it!

Who are the Dominicans?

In 1216, St. Dominic de Guzman founded the Order of Preachers, otherwise known as the Dominicans. Although this new order was created in specific response to the Albigensian heresy -- which denied the dignity of our humanity -- it was also meant to fulfill the need for capable preachers formed in the teachings of the Catholic faith and able to combat doctrinal error in all its forms.

St Dominic, Bl. Fra Angelico.

How was this formation accomplished? Through study; sharing the fruits of their studies through preaching and teaching; living a monastic life of poverty, chastity, and obedience; devotion to the liturgy -- but all of this can be summed up in these simple words: dedication to the Truth, for God is truth. Dominicans are to live in the truth, to be converted and sanctified by it, and to preach it. In other words, they are to live in Christ, to be converted and sanctified by Christ, and to preach Christ. For the truth they preach isn't just knowledge or words, it is the Word Incarnate. Christ told his Apostles, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one can come to the Father except through Me." Truth is the second person of the Holy Trinity, God Himself.

But what does the vocation of a musician, an artist, have to do with preaching? 

First of all, preaching can consist of many forms. One can preach through example -- through actions as well as words. But is it possible to evangelize through art? Absolutely,  though there is a delicate balance between art with an agenda and art which simply speaks the truth -- (for examples of "agenda" art, just look at the numerous sub-par prolife films Christians have made over the past several years).

Second of all, preaching not only can but *should* consist of multiple forms. Fr. Mark Daniel Kirby, OSB, argues that sometimes the truth, the naked truth, is not enough to persuade a person. However, if the truth is clothed in beauty, the truth often becomes not only less threatening but it takes on the splendor of the Father, what Pope Benedict XVI has termed the "Splendor of Truth." Beauty can reach the soul where the naked truth is often unable to penetrate. Truth speaks to the mind. But a person is made up of both a mind and a heart. You can tell person that something is true, but very often telling them is not enough.  They need to be awakened to the truth. In the words of Barbara Nicolosi, "It's not telling people the truth that saves them. It's getting them to wrestle with the truth that saves them."

The Crowning with Thorns, Caravaggio. 1607. 

And how does that awakening, that wrestling with the truth, come about? Christ is truth; but He is also goodness and beauty. Pope Benedict XVI has pointed out that beauty is the language native to the human heart. He once said: "The encounter with the beautiful can become the wound of an arrow that strikes the heart and in this way opens our eyes so that we can see the truth more clearly." Beauty such as the Alps, the Grand Canyon, a beautiful sunset, the Sistine Chapel, Bach's St. Matthew Passion, Brahms' Requiem, Caravaggio's painting The Crowning of Thorns -- these things often have far greater potential for striking a person's heart because beauty is disarming. In debates, arguments, discussion, people put up walls to guard themselves against anything that might make them uncomfortable, that might force them to have to reevaluate themselves and their beliefs. The truth by itself can intimidate and alienate. But Beauty has the power to remove these barriers so that God's grace might enter in.

Eternal Rest Grant Unto Him, O Lord: Robin Williams, 1951-2014

Robin Williams as John Keating, Dead Poets' Society, 1989.

In honor of Robin Williams, I chose to read Walt Whitman’s “O Captain, My Captain” while listening to the second movement of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto (featured in The Dead Poets’ Society) in the evening twilight. We shall always cherish your memory, Robin Williams, and we miss you dearly!

"O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up— for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle’ trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning:

Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck You’ve fallen cold and dead.”

That being said, in the words of my friend Aimee, depression sucks. I pray for the repose of the soul of Robin Williams tonight, as well as for his family, but please know that if you need help, there is no shame in asking. Being tough doesn’t mean you never ask for help, it’s knowing when you need help and having the courage to ask for it.

In the words of Walt Whitman, 

"O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; 

of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; 

what good amid these, O me, O life?' 

Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; 

that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse."