Adam Wood’s Musical Manifesto

Over the last few years, I’ve come to be very impressed with Adam Wood, proprietor of MusicForSunday, as a writer, thinker, and musician. His musical intuition is outstanding, and his love of chant is growing. However, his way of thinking on issues broader than music has always been something of a mystery to me. He describes himself as a thoroughgoing progressive in the conventional sense.

The blog PrayTell picked up on this interesting combination and asked him to write up his own biographical sketch as an effort toward reconciling what many people would regard as a odd mix.

The results are predictably articulate and intellectually challenging.

Sample:

I started to wonder: If my progressive ideas are true, and I arrived at them through engagement with the Blessed Sacrament and deep prayer – how much more might that truth spread and be understood if there was greater engagement with the deep spirituality of traditional liturgical forms?

I have come to believe that these texts – the propers, the traditional Latin hymns and prayers – are as important to our communal liturgy and spiritual journey as any portion of the Ordinary (which most of us would hardly think of omitting), and in fact am increasingly baffled by the widespread ignorance of them. As is common practice with the congregational acclamations in the Ordinary, I would like to see contemporary and diversely-styled settings of these chants, hymns, and prayers. I understand the CMAA’s preference for chant-style, but I think calypso propers would be a vast improvement over what happens in many parishes.

And aside from the text, there is something about traditionally sacred musical styles. As a musician, I cannot deny the incredible beauty of well-performed Gregorian chant. I’ve always been curious about it (I bought a Graduale Romanum when I was in high school… didn’t know what to do with it). I am still a little bitter at my various music teachers and training programs for not introducing me properly to the music which forms the foundation of every other style of Western music. As I became more experienced in chant, I started to notice that my musical abilities – even with regards to contemporary and pop styles – improved. And even moderate amounts of polyphony (singing, studying, and directing) has had noticeable impacts on my homophonic choral part-writing. The simple fact is: traditional sacred music makes you a better musician. Once I realized that, I was hungry for more. And, as someone who cares about the future quality of musicianship in the Church, it made me want everyone to be exposed to these genres.

But it’s not just about liturgical music as conservatory for culture, although that is an important side issue. The beauty of chant teaches us something about the beauty of God. The quietness of chant gives us a peace which passes all other forms or styles, a peace which music of the world simply cannot provide.

Christus Vincit!

This is indescribably thrilling. A complete story about these kids from St. Mary’s, Norwalk, CN, and their concert is right here.

Sample:

The audience could sense the magnitude of their mission, as the singers processed down the aisle toward the sanctuary to a solemn organ processional. Nonetheless, as the children and sisters took their places, their faces reflected nothing but joy. The processional then immediately segued into the anthem, Virgin Great and Glorious a traditional Catholic hymn, conducted by Sister Mary Concepta, SV, with David Hughes at the organ. To begin with this pure, beautiful, yet expansively powerful hymn left no doubt that this work is consecrated to the patron saint of the parish, and Queen of all saints.

The combined voices of Sisters and students were a strong and flawlessly unison blend that was never overpowered by Hughes prayerful accompaniment. As David Hughes then took his place at the podium, the rapport between singer and conductor was evident, with all eyes riveted on him in anticipation, and there they remained.

Let the People Find Their Voice

A beautiful message appeared on the MusicaSacra.com/forum

Many years ago GIA had buttons that said “Let the people sing!” meaning turn off the microphones and don’t carpet the Church buildings.

I have introduced the SEP for Communion and Offertory now for about 6 months. After Easter season, I shut down the organ and use it only for the Entrance (cough, cough) hymn and the closing hymn. I decided to sing the Responsorial Psalm acapella, (I have been using the Chabenal Psalms), the Gospel acclamation, Kyrie, Gloria (in English) Holy, Mystery of Faith, Lamb of God and the Appropriate Seasonal Marian antiphon without benefit of organ. If the priest sings the doxology we answer him in like kind, if he speaks it, we create a unity with him and proclaim in speech the Amen.

After quietly doing this for almost a half a year (with some exceptions) I am finally hearing the people’s voice, AND it is their voice. I don’t have “lead through the microphone” the response the Great Amen, or the Alleluia. The people know. Little by little they are discovering that they can sing as one voice where they are. As a people, we have become consumers of music through electronic devices and function more as voyeurs than participants. I see this in my students as young as Kindergarten sometimes.

When the Fall season begins and we look towards the changes, especially for the people, I am going to approach my pastor and ask that all the dialogs be sung, “the Lord be with you” the doxology, the sign of the Cross. I intuitively think that as we move slowly and gently through this change from being held hostage to meter and major and minor, and loud blaring artificially generated and amplified sound that as a congregation we are beginning to “miss” the dialog portions being sung which are ours to respond back.

I think that most people are afraid of the sound of their own natural voices, especially in Church and part of my job is to restore what has been devoured and taken from them in the process of the last 50 plus years. It is very gratifying to be part of a singing humble congregation where I don’t force my expertise but lead by example, or so I hope.

I think that by Advent some of my masses will sung in just this way. It isn’t grand and glorious, but it is reverent, simple and intimate.