Kyriale Simplex: A Hidden Treasure?

Over the past two and a half years I have had the opportunity to direct an ordinary suburban parish music program out of the land of Gather Comprehensive into the world of the sacred. This project has been multi-faceted and the work is far from over.

It began with weeding out problematic hymnody, then the slow and gradual introduction of propers, in simple English settings. The choirs also began to explore some of the simpler Latin choral repertoire from the polyphonic tradition, and so forth.

While all of this was happening we simultaneously began initiating an more important step: the singing of the Order of Mass by priest and congregation and the singing of unaccompanied chant settings of the Ordinary of the Mass by the congregation. I believe that it is the focus on these that has transformed the liturgical life of our parish. It has been the a cappella singing of the ordinary texts of the liturgy by priest and people that has ordered and focused all that our choirs have done in the area of propers, choral motets, and so on.

The question has lingered in my mind through these 2 1/2 years: “What is a reasonable introductory repertoire of Gregorian Ordinaries for a parish that is in a ground-zero situation?”

I have spent countless hours with the Kyriale Romanum, envisioning a path forward for a more complete and varied singing of chanted ordinaries in my parish. The starting point is clear–most hymnals contain it–it is Kyrie XVI, Gloria XV or VIII, Sanctus and Angus XVIII. Many parishes have undertaken to learn these and here their work with Gregorian ordinaries has stopped. It is either this “Iubilate Deo” ordinary, or it is Mass of Creation or some other organ and choir based English setting, or worse.

But where should we go next? This simple composite ordinary is very accessible and it is widely sung for good reason–they are among the simplest and most intuitive ordinaries in the Gregorian repertoire. As one begins to work through the rest of the Kyriale Romanum it becomes quickly evident that the next step is a huge one. It is so great, in fact, that it seems that most parishes have not been able to take it.

Yesterday I took up again the task of charting a course beyond this basic composite ordinary, and the few other supplemental Kyrie and Agnus settings that my parish now sings very well. It remained clear that a composite approach is still what is needed, so I began organizing the simplest chants that are found in the Kyriale Romanum in what seemed to be logical compliments. There is something about this that makes me very uneasy. There is enough hacking, cutting and pasting that already occurs in our very unstable liturgical environment, the least I can do is try to preserve the integrity of the liturgy as given in the liturgical books. This is like Fr. Z’s “say the black, do the red” for the church musician: “just sing it, don’t change it!” But the problem remains that the 18 ordinaries of the Kyriale are quite varied, and almost every Mass setting contained in it has that one Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus or Agnus that is the deal breaker–it’s just too much to bite off right now. So the composite approach seems to be the best path forward.

So as I was crafting these custom “composite ordinaries” I was suddenly prompted to pull that most curious post-conciliar innovation off of my shelf: the Graduale Simplex. I remembered the “Kyriale Simplex” that it contained, that I have flipped through curiously a number of times before, only to put it back on the shelf and forget about it.

What I realized while taking a closer look at the Kyriale Simplex was that I had virtually recreated, in my work of custom-crafting simple composite ordinaries from the Kyriale Romanum, Masses II and V of the Kyriale Simplex! (Mass I is the same as we will find in the new Missal, the “Iubilate Deo” ordinary.)

I began to explore this simple Kyriale in more depth and realized that the work that I had been doing in trying to find the best introductory Latin ordinaries for my parish had already been done, and admirably at that, and, best of all, this was presented in a way that had the precedent of an official liturgical book!

As I looked more closely at the chants contained in the Kyriale Simplex I discovered that of the 30 chants contained in its 5 composite ordinaries, 18 of them had come from the Kyriale Romanum. The other 12, I presume, come from other sources, but undeniably are from the authentic ecclesiastical chant tradition (loosely speaking–e.g. Sanctus X was composed by Dom Pothier, I believe). It contains a Gloria from the Mozarabic chant tradition, and the Gloria “more Ambrosiano” that is contained in the Kyriale Romanum ad libitum section, along with a complimentary Sanctus and Credo from the Ambrosian tradition. The remaining chants, though not contained in the Kyriale Romanum, I presume are from the Gregorian canon, and are remarkably beautiful and easy to sing. After considering each one I was able to resonate deeply with the decision that was made to make these settings available in a book that was meant for use “in minor churches”.

So what I discovered here, I would like to submit, is a hidden treasure that might be the key to getting average parishes who desire to sing more Gregorian ordinaries out of the Iubilate Deo rut. I can see why this approach might seem ideologically problematic to some, especially to those who want to do the sacred music equivalent of “say the black, do the red”, but I would like to propose that we need a few intermediary steps to realistically get to this point, and I think that the Kyriale Simplex might have paved that path. Perhaps it just took us about 50 years to realize it.

The Graduale Back in St. Peter’s

From time to time, I’m told that the Graduale has been depreciated in favor of the Responsorial Psalm, and this is always said as if to suggest that the Graduale, while permissible, must be looked down upon as an inferior option – even though these are among the oldest in the Gregorian books and even though they are unquestionably the great masterpieces of all the books.

Well, here we go: the Graduale is being sung again in the Vatican. Here is Christus Factus Est for Good Friday (commentator below points out that this is actually the Graduale for Palm Sunday and it is being sung to the text of the Gospel acclamation). The “function,” if we can call it that, of the Graduale is to inspire reflection on holy scripture. As William Mahrt points out, it is clearly the case that the music is elevated even above the text as the preeminent thing in these pieces, as illustrated by the luxuriating melismas that occur throughout the pieces. These pieces clearly depart from the formula of the melody being a vessel for the more-important text; the music here becomes the “text” which is to say that the music here is the message, the purpose, the driving functional element, and the long elaborations on single syllables are structured create an earthly stillness so that the mind and heart can be elevated to the heavens to prepare us.

Chip In for Chanted English Psalms

Until the Chabanel Psalms were established, the problem of the Responosorial Psalm was among the most vexing of the Roman Rite in the ordinary form. The core problem was a lack of integration with the rest of the music at Mass. Here we have the very core of Christian song and yet musical conventions provided few options that were stylistically part of a chanted Mass structure. Chabanel provided those options every week.

Among the most downloaded of all the Psalms are those by Arlene Oost-Zinner, a member of the ChantCafe’s team. Here’s are quick to learn, evocative of the text, different enough each each to provide variety but similar enough to provide stability, and, crucially, the Psalm antiphon includes all the verses with a pointed and notated text. It can be sung well by a single cantor or a full choir, and without the need for accompaniment. This structure permits the prayerful stillness of the chant between the readings to come through while still involving the people in the singing.

I can completely understand why so many use these sheets. Ideally, however, these would all be collected in a small book to keep in the choir room, so that we would have to constantly download and print. When something is this good, it is useful to have a printed edition. This is what the Chant Cafe and the CMAA would like to do: bring out a new edition of these Psalms, and in time for the release of the new Missal.

They serve as the perfect complement to the new Missal as well as the Simple English Propers that we will also be publishing. They also work well with Latin settings of the ordinary and propers. With this piece of the puzzle in place, every parish can have all the music needed to present a reliably beautiful sung Mass every week.

To support the completion of this project and its printing, the ChantCafe has started a chipIn campaign. Whatever you can provide would be fantastic. Your donation is tax deductible too – because of the CMAA’s nonprofit status.

Please help to make the Psalms at Mass beautiful again.

Maestro Wilko Brouwers

Maestro Wilko Brouwers from Corpus Christi Watershed on Vimeo.

In this short video, Corpus Christi Watershed‘s Danny Mendez captures the artistry of a conductor like no other.

With his extensive experience, gift for imagery, and patient coaching, Maestro Wilko Brouwers is able to illuminate a piece of music in singer’s hearts, minds, and voices in a way seldom experienced. Wilko Brouwers will be on the faculty of Sacred Music Colloquium XXI this June. This is a once in a lifetime chance to sit under a true master.

Pasch of the Resurrection in Andalucia

Fr Luke Melcher, Fr Christopher Smith, and Fr Pedro Jimenez Barros shoot confetti bullets
towards the Risen Christ to celebrate Easter 2011 in Coripe, Spain

Oldtimers in Southern Spain do not remember a worse year for rain during Holy Week. I apparently chose the wrong year to come, but it has been nice to live Holy Week with some calm instead of running around from dawn until way past midnight every day going from one procession to the next. Good Friday and Holy Saturday were a washout, but the Rising Sun was warmly greeted this Easter morn. Don Pedro, Fr Luke and I made our way to Coripe for Easter Sunday Mass. Of course, I found out at the last minute that I was on as MC and Preacher, so imagine my frantically composing my Spanish homily during the Victimae paschali!

The Mass was not surprisingly packed, and Chant Café Readers will be happy to know that Fr Luke sang the Vidi aquam from the Parish Book of Chant on an IPad. The rest of the Mass was a ‘traditional’ Flamenco mass with castanets, guitars and some powerful lungs belting it out from the choir loft. Latin according to the best of Solesmes style was provided by the American clergy as Spanish in the best folksy tradition descended upon this little village church in a liturgy few would ever forget.

But what I would never forget was what happened after Mass. Of course, a Procession! The Risen Christ was carried on a float by the costeleros of Coripe, with a recently formed band that meets twice a week with professional teachers. In front of the church several men of the village stood at attention with rifles and shot into the air confetti bullets. As we processed around the village for an hour, shots rang out and confetti and roses rained down all over the place. Of course, your clerical commentators, always eager to suck the marrow out of life, did not hesitate to take up arms more than once and shoot confetti into the sky. The South Carolina contingent, raised more on philosophy and French, was impressed by redneck Louisiana’s marksmanship, and learned a thing or two during pick up lessons in shooting from the hip in mid-procession.

Once the procession returned to the church, we ducked into a bar for some Cruzcampo and to greet the townsfolk while the men of the parish brought a scare-crow looking effigy of Judas with Qadaffi’s face to hang from a tree next to the north wall of the church.

I can only imagine the reaction of the insurance adjusters of American dioceses at what we saw next.

A firing squad appeared, this time with rifles with real bullets, and they shot at Judas until the kerosene tank in him exploded. And they kept shooting until there was nothing else left of the Traitor. The children rushed to throw stones at the stray pieces of straw and cloth that littered the tree, the remains of the faithful’s revenge on Judas. No felix culpas here!

After a brief respite back at the rectory, we made our way to Castelleja to see what cannot be called anything else but the Battle of the Virgins. Two neighborhoods in the same tiny smart Southern Spanish town have been involved in a West Side Story kind of struggle for so long they have two separate processions at the same time on Easter Sunday afternoon.

The Immaculate Conception procession goes up and down one street of the town while the Sorrowful Mother Procession goes up and down the other main street at the same time. Two different parishes, two different confraternities, two different worlds, all literally one street away from each other. United in the same faith, but divided by historical ties that no one really understands, no one seems to be bothered by this Battle of the Virgins that has gone on every year since time immemorial.

It was an odd way to end our Semana Santa experience in Seville. Fr Luke is staying to race Ferraris with some new friends found in the area, and I go back to my hermit lifestyle of a doctoral student in Pamplona. We started this amazing week with the impressive processions for Palm Sunday all over Seville and Don Pedro’s explanation of their origin in the Catholic Reformation’s desire to keep Spain away from Protestant iconoclasm. And we ended it with a little town which had kept that same faith, but was still divided over other issues. We saw the best of popular piety and what public manifestations of the faith can to do to promote Catholic identity. And we also saw how that deeply felt faith does not always translate into a moral life, a Catholic spirituality from day to day, orthodox belief, and the quest of the entire People of God for holiness. But I am deeply grateful to all of those friends new and old that became incredibly dear to me in this Sevillian Great and Holy Week, for allowing me to experience the Mystery of Redemption as I never have before, and perhaps never will again.

In the meantime, however, I will find a way to shoot the hell out of Judas on Easter Sunday in my next parish. Somehow I think that South Carolina just might find that Spanish tradition a welcome addition to the Palmetto State’s celebrations of the Paschal Mystery!

Many thanks to Don Pedro Jimenez Barros of the Archdiocese of Seville and Father Luke Melcher of the Diocese of Alexandria, Louisiana, for their expert guidance through Holy Week and or their priestly fraternity and friendship, as well as to all of the wonderful priests and laity we were graced to serve and get to know during this week.

Check out my bad photos at the Picasa Web linked in the first article, Semana Santa en Sevilla.

https://picasaweb.google.com/117938431262711129585/SemanaSantaSevilla?authkey=Gv1sRgCNXMnI3eo9a8iAE#