No cafe in Italy is a Chant Cafe. Every. Single. Italian restaurant pipes in American style pop of one kind or another. Gratefully, this small cafe/souvenir shop in Orvieto plays the mellow British songs of longing styled by Paul Young. Just the ticket for enjoying a mixed olive-oriented appetizer plate in this nice small place between an inadequately post-conciliarly refurbished parish church by my hotel, and the hopefully more-carefully-conserved Duomo, up the street here in old Orvieto.
Yet another reminder that, for better or worse, English vernacular sets the world’s musical standard. So at the Duomo this week and later at St. Peter’s, I’ll be praying that the participants in the 2014 Colloquium gain the skills and energy to help remake the world of sacred music, in a way that treats the people of God like potential saints, engaged not in the fads of the moment, but participating in the eternal Liturgy–as taught by the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council.
I'll miss you.
(Save the Liturgy, Save the World)
Thanks! I'll miss you this year as well.
G I will emulate so as avoid the near occasion of stupid behaviors as best I can. Prayers to you, Kathy, in your good work over there in the seven hills.