Londinium

2010-06-18T23:58:00.000-04:00

HIATUS

2008-11-17T01:00:00.013-05:00

I will be taking an indefinite break from writing, resuming at some point in the future. I want to thank all of my readers and commen-tators for their loyalty. It has been a grand experience and I wish you all God's blessings, peace and happiness.

Pax et bonum,

Kurt Poterack

J.S. Bach (Part V)

2008-11-14T01:00:00.006-05:00

J.S. Bach

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Bach's possessions included six claviers, a lute and several other instruments; a variety of candlesticks; two silver coffee pots, one large, one small; a silver teapot; and assorted pieces of furniture. He also had three different coats (the silk one was somewhat worn, he says) and 11 linen shirts "at the wash." He probably picked them up before he left town.

At the St. Thomas School, Bach was expected to teach the boys music, Latin, and grammar, while leading "a sober and secluded life." He hired a man named Petzoldt to teach his Latin classes for him.

[Ed. note: Bach wasn't the first choice of the Leipzig town authorities for the job. Telemann was their first choice, because he was a graduate of the school and his music was more "modern." The second choice was one Christoph Graupner, also a graduate of the St. Thomas School. (Ever heard of him?) Both men were competent, but neither could obtain release from their current posts. It says something about the state of affairs at that time. What existed were the remnants of the old Medieval guild system - there definitely were publicly recognized musical standards. However this was combined with an interesting form of graft: 1) marry my daughter, or 2) make a "contribution," or 3) be a part of the old boys network, etc. They didn't fully realize what they had in Bach.]

Bach was busy at Leipzig. When not disciplining small boys he found the time to compose nearly 300 cantatas, the B minor Mass, and his mighty St. Matthew Passion. In his spare moments he composed other things. His old temper hadn't left him: when the university officials turned down Bach's application to compose a special piece of music and gave the job instead to a man named Gorner, Bach tossed his wig at him and said he would have made a better cobbler. Bach's salary at the school was 700 thaler a year, with extra money to lead the choir for funerals.

The school's old rector died, and was replaced by Johann August Ernesti. He was one of those progressive types who didn't care for music much. He used to call the boys in the school orchestra "pot-house fiddlers," which was bad for morale. [Ed. note: I also read that he called them "beer fiddlers."] Bach spent more and more time travelling around the country-side trying out new organs, as an excuse to get away.

In his last years, Bach was nearly blind and his health was declining. It was all he could do to jot down the first 239 bars of the last fugue of The Art of Fugue, the most amazingly complicated fugal composition ever written. An English oculist, John Taylor, attempted surgery on Bach's eyes but it did no good: the operation left him completely blind [Ed. note: the same oculist operated on Handel, I believe, with the same effect. He traveled around with all of his equipment and assistants in several covered wagons with big eyes painted on them - pretty creepy!] Suddenly on July 18, 1750, Bach's eyesight was miraculously restored, but he suffered a stroke and died 10 days later.

Anna Magdalena never remarried and tried to struggle along on a measly pension. She died ten years after her husband and was buried in a pauper's grave. Wilhelm Friedemann did pretty well as a composer and recitalist. One source tells us that "he had a beautifully shaped long-fingered hand." Carl Philip Emanuel worked for Frederick the Great, King of Prussia. Frederick liked to play the flute, but took liberties with the tempo. C.P.E. just played along and said nothing. After all, Frederick was the king. Johann Christian moved to London and wrote operas. [Ed. note: However before this he spent considerable time in Italy and converted to Catholicism - an effect Italy tends to have on some people. He studied with Mozart's counterpoint teacher, Padre Martini, and met and befriended the young Mozart.]

J.C. Bach is pictured above.

There were other Bachs but none of them amounted to much. Bach's grandson, Johann Sebastian II, was a painter, but you can't get ahead that way. By May of 1871, historian Sanford Terry says, "Bach's blood had ceased to flow in mortal veins."

J.S. Bach (Part IV)

2008-11-13T01:00:00.008-05:00

J.S. Bach

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Bach spent nearly 10 years at Weimar, but then found it was time to move on. The old duke was having a family quarrel with his nephew and Bach was caught in the middle. So he accepted a job at the court of Prince Leopold of Anhalt - Cothen. Bach didn't leave on the best of terms. He spent nearly a month in jail "for too obstinately requesting his dismissal." While he was under arrest he composed 46 chorale preludes, so the time wasn't completely wasted.

At Cothen, Bach had a 17-piece orchestra, which kept him busily composing. The court bookbinders finally had to ask him to slow down so they could catch up. He composed little instruction books for his son Wilhelm Friedemann, too.

Bach tried out for an organist job at the Jacobkirche in Hamburg and although he dazzled the judges with his playing, they wouldn't give him the job unless he made a hefty "donation" to the church. Bach refused and the job went to a second-rate organist named Johann Joachim Heitmann, who just happened to have a spare 4,000 marks in his pockets.

Later, Bach composed a set of six concertos that he sent as a gift to Christian Ludwig, The Margrave of Brandenburg. Bach copied out the score very neatly, tied it up with a nice ribbon and sent it off to him. The margrave thanked him very much but probably never opened the package. He didn't have an orchestra, so it didn't do him much good to have the music. Well, it's the thought that counts.

After Maria Barbara died, Bach married again, this time to Anna Magdalena Wulcken, who at 20 was 16 years younger than he was. She was a very good singer and a good copyist besides. [Ed. note: There had been no pictorial evidence of Anna Magdalena, until Teri Noel Towe in a 2001 lecture at Queen's College put forward some interesting arguments that a couple in a 1736 engraving of citizens of Leipzig may indeed be Johann and Anna Magdalena Bach. If this is true, one can see in the relevant portion of the engraving posted above that Anna Magdalena was pretty and, seemingly, taller (!) than her husband. She vaguely reminds me of a certain choir alumna, but that may just be me.]

Bach's patron, Prince Leopold, got married at about this time, too, but he didn't do as well. His wife was his cousin the princess of Anhalt-Bernberg and she thought music was a waste of time. She liked to do needlework, but it's not the same somehow.

So in 1723, Bach and his new wife packed up all their possessions and the kiddies (there were seven by this time, four boys and three girls) and moved to Leipzig, where Bach was appointed cantor and music director of the Thomasschule.

(to be continued)

J.S. Bach (Part III)

2008-11-12T01:00:00.004-05:00

J.S. Bach

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

All the years of practice, not to mention the walking tours, had made Bach into a terrific organist Once when playing a concert at the royal court of Cassel, he played an elaborate pedal solo so well that the crown prince took a ring off his finger and presented it to Bach. As one observer put it: "If the skill of his feet alone earned him such a gift, what might the Prince have given him had he used his hands as well?"

But through it all Bach remained the same humble man he'd always been. When someone complimented him on his playing, he once said: "There's nothing to it. You have to hit the right notes at the right time and the instrument plays itself." That's easy for him to say.

Along about this time, Bach became friends with Johann Gottfried Walther, an organist and lexicographer. He also won a public clavier-playing contest against the great French keyboard player Louis Marchand, who failed to show up. On the day of the contest, Marchand suddenly remembered he had important business out of town, You know how it is. (Ed. note: I believe that the same thing happened with a keyboard challenger to the young Beethoven. He heard Beethoven practicing the night before the competition and then skipped town.)

J.S. Bach (Part II)

2008-11-11T01:00:00.006-05:00

J.S. Bach

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Having studied hard and soaked up everything, it was time for Bach to get a real job. His first position was as organist and choirmaster of the little church of St. Bonifacius in Arnstadt. The choir members, all boys, weren't very good singers and were very rowdy. The young Bach had trouble keeping them in line. His bullish temper didn't help matters. He once got into a street brawl with one of his choristers, a boy named Geyersbach, who called Bach a "dirty dog." (Bach had earlier called him a Zippelfagottist, or "nanny-goat bassoonist.")

[Ed. note: In the course of the fight, according to one source, Bach drew his sword and tore Geyersbach's clothes to shreds.]

A little later, Bach asked permission from his employers to go to Lubeck to hear the great Danish organist Dietrich Buxtehude. They weren't terribly keen on the idea, but they gave him four weeks off anyway. Bach set out, again on foot. It was more than 200 miles, but he made it somehow.

Bach had a wonderful time in Lubeck and was thrilled to bits by Buxtehude's playing. Since Buxtehude was thinking of retiring, he offered his job to Bach. The only catch was that Bach had to marry Buxtehude's daughter Anna Margreta. This seemed perfectly reasonable to Buxtehude, since he had done exactly the same thing to get the job from his predecessor, Franz Tunder. Bach, however, was not so thrilled by the offer. He said thanks but no thanks. Two other great musicians of the time -- Johann Matheson and Georg Frideric Handel -- also turned down the offer of the job complete with wife. It wasn't the sort of fringe benefit they had in mind. [Ed. note: OK, I'm sure you're all curious now. The position was eventually filled by one Johann Christian Schieferdecker who, taking the whole deal, acquired a new Frau Schieferdecker. Let's hope the Schieferdeckers were happy. No historical evidence one way or the other survives - which may be a good sign.]

Bach wasn't keen on Buxehude's daughter because he'd had his eye on someone closer to home. Very close to home, in fact. Her name was Maria Barbara Bach and she was his second cousin on his father's side. She was an orphan, living with her aunt and uncle in a little house called "The Golden Crown." Bach lived there for a while too, and that's how they met. It was convenient, anyway. She was cute as a button and had a lovely soprano voice. Pretty soon the church authorities noticed that the two of them were spending a lot of time alone together up in the choir loft. They truly were only practicing, but, well, it was kind of like Christendom College. People liked to speculate.

And they were right.

[Ed. note: Interesting difference between Palestrina and Bach in their choice of spouses. Both of them married a second time after the first wife died. Both of Bach's wives were, at least, amateur musicians - women who would have had a respect and, even, technical appreciation for what he was about. Palestrina, at least according to the superficial evidence in both cases, seems to have had business considerations as an important factor. The first wife had an inheritance, the second owned a fur business. I don't know if either of his wives knew anything about art or music. The marriages seem to have been happy enough, though. While I greatly admire Palestrina's music, I don't know if I could have made the personal choices he did. Perhaps, putting the two together, the ideal wife is a soprano who owns a fur business! ]

So all things considered, Bach decided it might be a good idea to move somewhere else. He and Maria Barabara got married and moved to Muhlhausen and a new church job. Bach's salary in Muhlhausen was 85 gulden a year and "3 measures of corn, 2 trusses of wood, one of beech, one of oak or aspen, and 6 trusses of faggots, delivered at his door, in lieu of arable."

When the young couple were married, they were helped along financially by an inheritance from Tobias Lammerhirt, Bach's uncle on his mother's side. Fourteen years later, in 1721, when Maria Barbara had died and Bach was about to be married again, he got an inheritance from the widow of Tobias Lammerhirt. (It was a good thing Bach did not marry a third time. He was running out of Lammerhirts.)

Things didn't work out well in Muhlhausen. The church authorities were a sour-faced old bunch who didn't believe in having any fun. Within a year, Bach had accepted a job as court organist to Wilhelm Ernst, "His Ducal and Serene Highness of Saxe-Weimar." The duke offered Bach double his previous salary and Bach said, "When do I begin?"

The duke was a kind man, if somewhat stern. Everybody had to turn out all the lights by 8 pm (9 pm in the summer), and the duke had a habit of asking the servants at random about the subject of the chaplain's sermons. He wanted to make sure they'd been awake. The duke liked music and the organ at Weimar was a good one, but the first things Bach did was to install a set of chimes. Then it was even better.

(to be continued)

Concert - Wednesday Evening

2008-11-10T02:47:00.001-05:00

Wednesday, Nov. 12 Susan Duer will play an all Beethoven 'fortepiano' recital in the Chapel Crypt at 8 PM. I even forget that Beethoven's piano - though it was evolving - was still much closer to the wood-framed tinkly little Mozart type of an instrument than the modern piano.

J.S. Bach (Part I)

2008-11-10T01:00:00.006-05:00

J.S. Bach

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Just about everybody in the Bach family was a good musician, but nobody was better than Johann Sebastian. If you wanted to you could trace the Bach family back through five generations. But you still wouldn't find anybody to bear J.S. Various members of the Bach clan were organists, town pipers and instrumentalists in Thuringia, a small state in the eastern part of what is now Germany. As far as being musicians, the Bachs had Thuringia pretty much sewn up.

Johann Sebastian's great-great-grandfather, old Veit Bach, was a miller. He liked to play his lute while the millstones ground flour in the background. J.S. later said it probably helped him to keep time. Johann Sebastian's father, Johann Ambrosius, married Elizabeth Lammerhirt, whose family were prosperous furriers and part-time mystics.

Johann Ambrosius had a twin brother named Johann Christopher. They looked so much alike that not even their wives could tell them apart. Johann Ambrosius and Elizabeth had three sons: Johann Christoph, Johann Jakob, and Johann Sebastian.

Johann Sebastian was born on March 21, 1685 and baptized two days later at the little church of St. George in Eisenach. At last report, the church still stands, and the present pastor still refers to that historic event whenever he baptizes a new little baby in the same font. Maybe he figures it will give them something to work towards.

At age eight, little Sebastian was sent of to school, where he did considerably better than his brother Johann Jakob. He was a good singer and was one of those pupils who always knows the answers to everything.

His mother died when he was nine and his father a year later, so Sebastian was shipped off to the little town of Ohrdruf to live with his brother Johann Christoph, who was an organist and a pupil of Johann Pachelbel -- the one who wrote the famous Canon. Since money was scarce it was soon decided to send little Sebastian to the choir school of St. Michael in Luneberg. The rules stated that the singers had to be the "offspring of poor people, with nothing to live on, but possessing good voices." He seemed to qualify on all counts, so off he went.

The school paid for his tuition, room and board, and gave him candles and firewood. When his voice broke, we are told, Sebastian sang and spoke in octaves for a week. It must have been an interesting effect, but it didn't last. Anyway, Sebastian was kept busy after that playing violin, viola, and organ.

One of the ways Bach learned about music was to copy the compositions of his predecessors. He did a lot of this while at school. Historian Cecil Gray says: "He absorbed all styles, instead of being absorbed by them." Karl Geiringer says something similar: "Young Sebastian absorbed all instruction as readily as a sponge does water."

For a while, Bach studied organ in Luneburg with Georg Bohm, who had been a pupil of a man named J.A. Reinken. Bach walked 30 miles to Hamburg to hear Reinken play. After arriving in Hamburg, Bach was hungry and tired from his long walk, but had no money for a meal. As he tells the story, he was just sitting outside an inn minding his own business, thinking about food and rubbing his tired feet, when out from an open window were tossed two herring heads. And as if that weren't enough, each fish head contained a Danish ducat.

(to be continued)

PALESTRINA (Part II)

2008-11-07T01:00:00.007-05:00

PALESTRINA

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Palestrina's wife died in 1580 of the plague, which left the composer quite upset. He composed the Super Flumina Babylonis. For awhile he even considered giving up music and becoming a priest, but changed his mind. Within eight months after his wife's death he married Virginia Dormuli, a rich widow, and took over her dead husband's fur and ermine business, which had a monopoly to supply ermine to the Papal court.

Palestrina went into partnership with the shop's young apprentice and together they made a killing on the market. Palestrina's wife was no fool, either. She invested 500 scudi into the business, which she later withdrew and lent back to Palestrina at eight-per-cent interest. He owned four houses, which he rented out to quiet tenants.

Palestrina was very busy. In the mornings he minded the fur store and unplugged his tenants' toilets; in the afternoons he composed motets and masses. Somehow he found time to write 93 Masses and 500 Motets, not to mention the four books of madrigals and other assorted church music.

But this is nothing compared to the vast number of works -- nearly 2000 -- composed by Palestrina's contemporary, Orlando di Lasso. He was born in Belgium in 1530 or so and had such a fine voice as a boy that he was kidnapped three times by rival choirs.

Lasso did very well for himself, always managing to get hired by rich patrons who let him travel all over Europe in grand style. Once when the church authorities organized a solemn procession through the streets of Munich the parade was nearly ruined when it looked like it was going to rain. As soon as the choir began to sing a piece of his music, the clouds parted and the sun shone. Thereafter, the same piece was sung at all processions, just to be on the safe side.

Lasso enjoyed tremendous popularity as a composer and had his music performed in all the best places. Although he was quite wild as a young man, he got more serious as he grew older. Towards the end he went bonkers. He no longer recognized his wife and started to mumble.

For all-round piety it's hard to beat Tomas Luis de Victoria, who was a Spanish composer of the same period. He was also a priest. He kept saying that he was going to give up composing and devote himself to the contemplation of higher things. But somehow he never quite got around to it.

Victoria studied in Rome before returning to Spain and admired Palestrina so much that he even took to copying his style of clothing and the way he trimmed his beard.

Victoria wasn't the only one who admired Palestrina, who even in his own time was better respected than most musicians ever manage today. Just two years before Palestrina's death, a group of composers got together and printed some music, which they dedicated to Palestrina, whom they called: "an ocean of musical knowledge." They said that compared to him they were merely, "rivers whose life is bound up with the sea." Palestrina was flattered, but had to ask them to stop before his feet got too wet.

Palestrina died in 1594 and was buried in the St. Peter's cemetery. Over the years, what with all the renovations and everything, we seem to have misplaced his grave. But he's still there somewhere, decomposing.

PALESTRINA (Part I)

2008-11-06T01:00:00.009-05:00

PALESTRINA

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

It might confuse you to learn that Palestrina is not a person but a place. The composer was actually named Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina. At various times he was also known as Joannes Petrus-Aloysius Praenestinus, Joannes Praenestinus, Giovanni da Penestrina, Geo Pietro Luigi da Pallestrina, Gianetti Palestina, Gianetto del Palestino, Gio Petralosis Prenestrino and Gianetto Palestrina. Under the circumstances, Palestrina seems the least trouble.

He was born around 1525 to Santo and his wife Palme Pierluigi, in a little house in the Via Cecconi in the tiny village of Palestrina, outside Rome. When his paternal grandmother died she left him a mattress and some kitchen utensils. But since he was only two years old at the time they wouldn't have been much use to him.

Gianetto (as he was called then) was a happy, playful child who became an altar boy and sang in the local choir. When he was twelve he went to Rome to a choir school, where he was taught elementary composition and how to make spitballs. When he was 20 he got his first job as an organist back in his hometown. He married a girl named Lucrezia Gori, whose father had just died and left her some money (she also inherited a house, a vineyard, some meadows and a chestnut-colored donkey). Not long after, Giovanni Maria del Monte, the bishop of Palestrina, became Pope Julius III and moved to Rome. Julius showed his appreciation of local talent by appointing Palestrina director of St. Peter's choir. For this he was paid six scudi every month. This would mean more if we knew how much a scudo was worth, but we don't. Palestrina was later made a singer in that pontifical choir, even though he didn't have a very good voice (he was a tenor). His pay went up to ten scudi a month.

Julius died in 1555 and was replaced by Pope Marcellus II, who reigned for a grand total of three weeks. He died suddenly when he ate something that didn't agree with him. Marcellus II would hardly be worth mentioning except that Palestrina dedicated his Missa Papae Marcelli to him, thereby single-handedly saving the future of music forever. Well, that's what his biographer Giuseppe Baini says, and who are we to disagree with him?

It seems that church music at the time had gotten a little too racy and the new pope, Paul IV, called for it to be cleaned up. Composers had been using bawdy songs as the basis for their church music. Worst of all, no one could understand the words.

The story goes that some of the stuffier cardinals wanted to abolish polyphony altogether and get back to the basics with Gregorian chant. Palestrina showed that some of this music could be quite respectable. Evidently the cardinals fell for it.

Palestrina was by no means your typical artsy, head-in-the-clouds musician. He was a pretty shrewd businessman who sold barrels of sacramental wine to the church to make extra money. He wasn't very good at saving, though. When his son Angelo died suddenly, Palestrina had to borrow money to repay the bride's dowry, which he'd already spent.

HAYDN (Part III)

2008-11-05T01:00:00.013-05:00

HAYDN

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Through his connection with Porpora, Haydn soon got a job as a composer to the court of Count Morzin, a Bohemian nobleman. From there he was offered the job he stayed at for the rest of his life, as court composer and Kapellmeister to Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy, a Hungarian nobleman.

Paul Anton didn't last long and was soon replaced by his brother, Nicolaus the Magnificent. Nicolaus was a kind man and a decent musician, even if he did have a penchant for flashy clothing. Haydn's own uniform was blue with gold trim. Later it was red with gold trim.

Nicolaus liked to play an instrument called the baryton, which is a sort of cross between the cello and a guitar. Nobody makes them anymore. But if you wanted to learn it, Haydn wrote about 160 chamber pieces for the baryton, which ought to keep you busy for awhile.

Not content with the family palace at Eisenstadt, Nicolaus decided to build a splendid new castle, which he named Esterhaza. He had it built in a swamp in the middle of nowhere because he was fond of duck hunting.

Esterhaza was a classy place, but Haydn and his musicians didn't like being stuck in the boondocks, so far away form Vienna, not to mention their wives and children. The quarters were mostly single rooms. Haydn had one of the few apartments with room for his wife, not that he spent anymore time with her than he had to.

This situation led Haydn to compose one of his best-known symphonies, No. 45 in F-sharp minor, known as the "Farewell" Symphony. The joke comes at the end of the final movement when as the instrumental parts drop away, each player was instructed to snuff out his candle and leave the stage. By the end there were only two violins playing, Haydn and Luigi Tomasini. Nicolaus got the message and everyone packed to leave the next day.

Haydn's compositions have more nicknames than those of any other composer in the history of music. When you consider that he wrote, for example, at least 22 symphonies in D major, the nicknames become useful. Altogether, he wrote about 107 symphonies, a dozen Masses, 52 piano sonatas and about 84 string quartets. He had to have something to keep him out of the house at nights.

Even though his marriage was a disaster, Haydn had plenty else to be happy about. He was well respected by his contemporaries, including Mozart and Beethoven, who both studied with him. The members of his orchestra called him "Papa." He had stubby legs and a big nose and a mischievous sense of humor.

When Haydn died in 1809, there was a simple funeral, since Austria was rather busy being invaded by Napoleon's troops.

HAYDN (Part II)

2008-11-04T01:00:00.013-05:00

HAYDN

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

For the next few years, Haydn lived a gypsy life as one of the many street musicians, or buskers, in the city of Vienna. He made a little extra money giving music lessons , just enough to pay the rent at his tiny garret on the Michalerplaz. Late at night he studied the keyboard works of C.P.E. Bach and composed his own music.

His first big break came when he and some fellow buskers serenaded the house of Johann Joseph Kurz, a comedian and pantomime performer popularly known as Kurz-Bernardon, after his most famous role. Bernardon is a stock comic character, a simpleton also known as Hanswurst. Kurz commissioned Haydn to compose the music for a comic opera, Der Krumme Teufel (The Crooked Devil). Haydn got paid 25 ducats, which made him feel very rich.

After that, things started looking up for Haydn. The court poet Metastasio lived in a nicer apartment in the same building and through him Haydn met Niccolo Porpora, a famous singing teacher and composer. Haydn became his accompanist and valet. From Porpora he learned not only fundamentals of composition but also how to polish boots and keep the lint off a velvet jacket.

It was about this time that Haydn fell madly in love with one of his pupils, a lovely young woman named Therese Keller, a wig maker's daughter. Haydn wanted to marry her, but she decided she wanted to become a nun instead. When she entered the convent in 1756 Haydn composed a little organ concerto for the ceremony, just to show that there were no hard feelings.

As a sort of consolation prize, Therese's father suggested that Haydn could marry her older sister, Anna Maria. She was 31, he was 28. Too upset to think straight, he said yes. He lived to regret it: Anna Maria was ugly, ill-tempered, and a bad housekeeper. She had no appreciation of Haydn's life as a musician. She didn't care whether he was a cobbler or a composer. She would use his manuscripts to line cake tins, or cut the paper into strips to curl her hair with.

(to be continued . . .)

HAYDN (Part I)

2008-11-03T01:00:00.004-05:00

HAYDN

(excerpts from the book, Bach, Beethoven and the Boys by David Barber)

Haydn had neither the flashy individuality of Mozart nor the brooding, romantic passion of Beethoven. He was more of a middle-management type.

Haydn did spend a few years struggling to make ends meet as a young man in Vienna. But he spent most of his life -- nearly 50 years -- at the same job, which offered him creative scope and financial security. He was 24 years older than Mozart yet outlived him by 18 years. And until his very last years he enjoyed, unlike Beethoven, good health.

He spent his final years in well-deserved, peaceful retirement, in comfortable surroundings and with a private stock of his favorite wine, a tokay. Haydn died in 1809 at 77 years of age, with money in the bank and a wardrobe full of nice clothes. If his love life had gone better, he would have been even happier.

Haydn was born into a simple peasant family in the little Austrian village of Rohrau, near the border with Hungary, in 1732. His father was a second-generation wheelwright and his mother was a cook. They christened their son Franz Joseph, but around the house they called him "Sepperl."

As a boy he was well-mannered and tidy. He liked to pretend he was playing the fiddle on two sticks of firewood. Well, it's a start.

When he was six, he went to live with a schoolmaster cousin in the nearby town of Hainburg. This man, Franck, was a stern teacher who thought that his pupils could learn anything if only he beat them often enough. Haydn did learn from him, at least enough to be accepted as a choirboy at St. Stephen's cathedral in Vienna. He was auditioned by the choirmaster, George Reutter, who bribed him with cherries and taught him how to sing a trill. Haydn said much later in life that he could never hear a trill without thinking of the taste of cherries.

Little Haydn was a good singer but a bit of a prankster. One prank finally lost him his place: he snipped the pig tale off the boy in front of him and Reutter kicked him out of the choir. It was just as well: his voice was beginning to break and there was talk of castrating him. So there he was, 17 years old with just three worn shirts, a ragged jacket, and no money to his name.

(to be continued . . .)

All Saints Mass

2008-10-31T01:00:00.002-04:00

This Saturday, at the 11:30 Mass at Christendom College, William Byrd's Polyphonic setting of the Propers will be sung by the Palestrina Chamber Choir. This will be an historic first!

Four Part Hymn Singing

2008-10-30T01:00:00.006-04:00

It happens every once in a blue moon. Some convert who came out of one of those small, tightly-nit Protestant churches - population approx. 150-300 - wonders why Catholics don't sing hymns in four part harmony. Never mind the fact that most main line Protestants don't/can't do that. He (or she) wonders why what seemed so natural in childhood cannot happen, and immediately, in his (or her) new Catholic parish.

First, one could enter into that whole discussion about the difference between liturgical music and 'popular religious music.' Even though hymns can and should be a part of people's popular religious devotion, they are not, per se, liturgical music. But add to this the fact that most Catholics in America do not have that tradition of hymn singing in the home, except maybe some Christmas carols. Add to this the fact that most Americans do not sing - not regularly - except "Happy Birthday" and maybe a college fight song, and a few other pieces when they are schnockered. (Listen to the quality of singing in most Catholic parishes. You are lucky if you can get any sort of sound for the melody, let alone for four parts.)

Finally, in the handful of places where I have heard four part singing from a congregation, I don't like it past a certain point. I would never say this to a devotee as I would quickly be accused of being a snob, but I tire of it quickly. It is like a perpetual fourth choir rehearsal. Things reach a certain level of competence, but, without a director, it stays at about the same mediocre level ad infinitum. Every verse of every hymn has the same harmonies without variation, AND the sopranos are slightly sharp, the altos slightly flat, the tenors, too loud, etc. over and over and over . . .

Purgatory.

It doesn't lift my mind up to God.

Some Brief Notes About the "Uzi Stories"

2008-10-29T01:00:00.004-04:00

In writing these stories, I write what I know, both settings and characters, and then I expand on these things using my imagination. Particularly in regard to the characters, I often, though not always, use a real-life person as my starting point. For example, Anthony Smitha was my starting point for Texas Schola Dawg. But Texas Schola Dawg is NOT Anthony. I tried to make this point by including Anthony himself within one of my stories along with Texas Schola Dawg. Now, Anthony is a particularly rich source for characterization and was a good starting point, but that is all. So I do want to caution my readers against assuming that a particular character IS someone whom they know.

That is simply not the case. Even when Anthony himself made an appearance, I expanded on some of his traits using my imagination. Things which were obviously false. Anthony never owned a "be-bop record shop." As far as I know, such things ceased existing even before I was born. I don't think Anthony was ever a small-time pool hustler. I do know he is a devout Catholic who has very eclectic interests. So, even in drawing a character who is real, I used things which, strictly speaking, are false, but humorous, and draw out the truth of his eclectic interests and commitments.

(I suppose I could have said, "Anthony Smitha, amateur body builder, devout Catholic, and motor cycle enthusiast" which would have been true and funny, but for some reason I wanted to go for the even more outrageous, "small-time pool hustler, devout Catholic, and one-time proprietor of a be-bop record shop" precisely because it was false and thus even more humorous - and yet, in a sense, true - at least in terms of the variety of his interests.)

Sometimes my characterizations are funny because they are totally false: Bruce Hacker as a German spy, Greg Townsend as a secret agent for the Red Chinese. Some of the characters, like Uzi, have no starting point in real life and some do, like Polly, but I would never publicly reveal this and it's unimportant. Polly could have been based on a number of different women I know and if the real starting point is revealed, then people will always be making a comparison, "so-and-so would never do that, etc." That's not the point. The person who is the starting point is merely a frame upon which modelling clay is added, so to speak, to create a character.

Still you have to be careful. Sometimes I will change a person's name, but they are pretty close to the real thing (e.g. President Mike McConnell). It would be very dangerous for me to make him do something bad of his own free will, for instance.

Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy clearly is very much based on a real man with comic exaggerations added - but the comic exaggerations, though extreme, are based on a real dichotomy in the man's life. Obviously his name (and his species) were also changed.

The whole dog thing has perplexed me. I liked the Underdog cartoon and wanted to use that graphic. It inspired the whole series, but, really, dogs going to a Catholic college and praying in the chapel? Or functioning as chaplains? Speaking to human beings? It is all so fantastic. I just stopped worrying about it at a certain point. It's not supposed to all logically cohere.

As for my writing style, I wouldn't mind some comments. Obviously, I am a bit of a devotee of the incomplete sentence. (I know that classically a sentence needs a noun and a verb.) Even the one word sentence. Even the one word paragraph.

Really.

I know I took this directly from Ralph McInnerny, although he probably got this from Hemmingway. Am I right? I like alliteration also. Anyway, if my writing style is analyzable (or worth analyzing) let me know.

Beato Fra Angelico

2008-10-28T01:00:00.007-04:00

Just a reminder,

the Beato Fra Angelico Fine Arts Series will continue with two concerts:

Wednesday, Nov. 12 Susan Duer will play an all Beethoven 'fortepiano' recital in the College Library at 8 PM. I even forget that Beethoven's piano - though it was evolving - was still much closer to the wood-framed tinkly little Mozart (tuned wood peckers) type of an instrument than the modern piano.

Saturday, Nov. 22 the Fairwinds Woodwind Quintet will be a concert of music for woodwind quintet in the St. Lawrence Commons. It will include music by such composers as Barthe, Milhaud, Danzi, Piazzolla, Ewazen, and Mahler.

Old Choir Director and Friend

2008-10-27T01:00:00.000-04:00

I received a phone call from my old choir director - teacher, mentor, and friend a few weeks ago. It seems they are merging his parish and the local "student parish." Guess who the new pastor will be of the conglomeration? The pastor of the student parish. Obviously, he is concerned for his job. Now he is a retired University Professor with a pension. Church music is not his sole or main source of income, but he has a great love for church music and hates to see his work of over 30 years just go down the drain. (If I recall correctly he told me that he had been music director since 1972 or 1973.) Although we had our disagreements when I was with him, he gave me some important initial training and inspiration. He would like to retire soon and hand his program on, but fears that the program itself might be destroyed.

Ah, church music.

In your mercy, say an Ave or Pater for the man.

Workshop in Stevens Point, WI

2008-10-24T01:00:00.012-04:00

A brief sketch of my Chant Workshop in Stevens Point, WI:

I was invited to do a Chant Workshop at St. Peter's Catholic Church in Steven's Point, WI which is in the diocese of La Crosse - of course, this is Archishop Burke's former diocese, before he moved on to St. Louis and then the Vatican. [He was born and raised in the area and, in fact, the pastor of the parish, Fr. Louis, is a nephew. (I could see the family resemblance.)] Although the current bishop is good by all accounts, part of Archbishop Burke's legacy is that the diocese still requires ANY public speaker at a parish - at least one that is publicized widely through diocesan channels - to have the mandatum. I don't have the piece of paper, because Bishop Loverde considers our public oath to the magisterium in front of him to substitute for the mandatum. I had to explain that, so I was told to have a letter from my pastor assuring them that I was a "Catholic in good standing." Fr. Fasano was glad to provide this.

The workshop started on Friday (10/17) at 1 PM, so I had to take a 6 AM flight out of Dulles Airport, which meant I had to leave my apartment that day at about 3:30 AM. Anyway, I arrived on time and was picked up at the Wausau airport by Patrick Burkhardt, the music director at St. Peter's, and dropped off at the Bed and Breakfast where I was lodged for the weekend (more about this later). Then he picked me up for a quick lunch with two of his teenage sidekicks, Alex and Eric - an interesting pair.

I began with my standard talk on how to read Gregorian chant notation, following to some degree the summary in the back of the "Parish Book of Chant," of which everyone received a copy. Later I took them through the Ordinary from Chant Mass IV, Gloria XV, several Propers and some polyphony - the Byrd Ave Verum and Non Nobis Domine. With breaks and time off for dinner, we went until 8 PM. We all were tired.

On Saturday, we worked from 9 AM until 3 :30 PM - again with a few breaks and time off for lunch. I also gave my talk on "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms" - which always seems to be a winner. It was a typical workshop concatenation of voices - bad breath support, poor intonation and blend, no sense of a unified vowel sound. But I worked with them and they got better, it was heartening, although it wore me out - I did earn my fee. We sang for the 4 PM Saturday Vigil Mass.

Later that evening, Patrick Burkhardt played a recital which was quite good. The parish has a 30 stop, 3 manual , 1930 M.P. Moeller. It was voiced with an English Romantic sound. He had been the organist/choir director at St. Cecilia Cathedral in Omaha and was quite the suberb organist. He closed the recital with Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor which he played with real technical accuracy and panache. Not an easy piece to play.

Had dinner with Patrick and the pastor, Fr. Louis twice. I always enjoy this. They are trying to move things in a better direction. They are good hearted "reform-of-the reformers" and I wish them much success, but they have their work cut out for them. Just like in Lincoln, NE, although the bishop is orthodox and there is an overall solidity to most of the clergy, the state of the liturgy and music in the parishes sometimes leaves much to be desired. And many of the people are quite content with things the way they are.

There were several Christendom connections. I met a cousin of Prof. Snyder's wife, the godchildren of Prof. Townsend (or was it his wife?), anyway they wanted me to give him a package. Finally Fr. Louis worked with Fr. William at the Josephinum and said, "he is a real card once you get him going." (Fr. William will DEFINITELY be coming to my Nov. 1 party, so I promise you I will "get him going.")

Finally, the bed and breakfast. It was neat and clean - even had a tub with a whirlpool, which I didn't find as enjoyable as I thought I might. The place had a nostalgic theme, but wasn't unified. There were 1920's artifacts (old radio, etc.) and artwork from the 1880's - 1890's - rather Victorian looking. Overall, however, my room had the look and feel of the bedroom of a teenage girl who was into country arts and crafts. Lot's of old-fashioned dolls in gingham dresses, a pillow with the word "love" stitched onto it (and flowers growing out of each letter) and a bed spread with lacey sides hanging down. I am sure some of my readers will get a kick out of me having to spend the night in such a room - the only thing funnier would be imagining Texas Schola Dawg having to spend the night in such a room.

Well, I'm glad I was able to be of some help to the people of the Diocese of LaCrosse and wish them all of the best. And Christendom Choirs - I do appreciate you more after experiences like this!

Liturgy and Contemplation in Byrd's "Gradualia"

2008-10-23T01:00:00.005-04:00

FROM THE BACK COVER

Liturgy and Contemplation in Byrd's Gradualia

William Byrd's Gradualia (1605/1607) is one of the most unusual and elaborate musical works of the English Renaissance. This large collection of liturgical music, 109 pieces in all, was written for clandestine use by English Catholics at a time when they were forbidden to practice their religion in public. When Byrd began to compose the Gradualia, he turned from the penitential and polemical extravagances of his earlier Latin motets to the narrow, carefully ordered world of the Counter-Reformation liturgy. It was in this new context, cut off from his familiar practice of choosing colorful texts and setting then at length, that he first wrote about the "hidden and mysterious power" of sacred words to evoke a creative response.

Liturgy and Contemplation in Byrd's Gradualia responds to Byrd's own testimony by exploring how he reads the texts of the Mass and the events of the church calendar. Kerry McCarthy examines early modern English Catholic attitudes toward liturgical practice, meditation, and what the composer himself called "thinking over divine things." She draws on a wide range of contemporary sources -- devotional treatises, commentaries on the Mass, poetry, memoirs, letters, and Byrd's dedicatory prefaces -- and revisits the Gradualia in light of this evidence. This book offers a case study of how one artist reimagined the creative process in the final decades of his life.

Kerry McCarthy is Assistant Professor of Musicology at Duke University. Her work on English sacred music has appeared in several research journals, including early Music History, Music and Letters, and Early Music. This is her first book.

-----------------------------

This will be on display at my Nov. 1 party. I had exchanged an e-mail or two with her and published an article of hers when I edited Sacred Music.

Uzi - Super Schola Dog: A President Gone Mad

2008-10-22T01:00:00.045-04:00

It was a scintillating, September Saturday morning on the Christendom College campus. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, an Indian Summer was in full bloom.

God was in his heaven.

Uzi thought he would drop in on a choir rehearsal. Sure enough he heard it. The choir director's usual patter. "Sopranos, you're sharp! . . . but . . . uh, in other places you're . . . uh . . . slightly above average."

And all was right with the world.

Nothing wrong here. Uzi smiled inwardly and proceeded on up to the chapel to say a prayer of thanksgiving. He had heard some strange rumors, but dismissed them. He now felt more secure. In fact Uzi was not the only one. The choir director himself had received a call earlier in the week from the college president, or someone sounding like him, trying to convince him to change the name of the "Palestrina Choir" to the "Palestinian Choir" in honor of "the late, great Yasser Arafat." The director had laughed it off, assuming that it was a prank by one of those students good at doing imitations. (The voice at the other end of the phone had also suggested that the schola be renamed "Podiddy and the Schola," which really made the director think it a student prank.)

As Uzi reached the vestibule at the top of the stairs, he saw a big banner stretched across the inner entry to the chapel. It said, "Imagine. Inspire. Innovate. Engage. Evolve." His heart dropped to his feet. In fact he felt like the ground underneath him had collapsed. He felt very sick. There it was. He could see with his own eyes that something was wrong. And that banner had not been there the night before, as students later confirmed.

Still, he had to pull himself together. He was a super hero.

He sensed that he should walk toward the library. Sure enough, on the path he encountered almost the entire board of directors running out of their quarterly meeting which was being held in the library board room that very morning. The men in their suits and ties, but screaming in terror; the women nicely dressed, but in tears. It was hard to get much out of them except that the College president, Mike McConnell, was saying disturbing things. He was using phrases like, "I am passionate about the power of inclusiveness and the power of individually diverse perspectives," and "I am committed to collaborative processes of creative re-imaging in which appropriate individuals with their diverse strengths and empowerments are involved."

This was NOT Mike McConnell. Not even close. He was a good orthodox Catholic, a pious man, a political conservative - someone who made fun of the sort of jargon and left-wing ideas he now seemed to be spouting. He was very philo-Irish, true, once playfully misquoting the College's motto as "Instaurare omnia in Hibernia." This got annoying at times, but it was nothing compared to his current position. If it was HIS position? Was this an imposter? Or had some sort of block been put on his free will? If such a thing was possible. Uzi couldn't quite piece together what was going on. What to do? What to do?

This super-hero was clueless, but on the other side of campus, another hero was very clued-in.

Hearing the phone in Padre Pio ring, Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy put down Machaut's "Livre du Voir Dit," one of his favorites, which he was reading in the original Medieval French, and answered. "Yes, President Bush. Yes . . . Umm-hmm . . . Yes, I received a call from His Holiness earlier this morning. Yes, I realize this is a national security issue as well. Umm-hmm, umm-hmm. Of course, for God and Country, I will do the best I can. Christendom College is too strategically important. Yes, yes, I realize it may be time to 'blow my cover' as you say - at least to Uzi."

Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy was an older chaplain who was specifically placed at Christendom by the Vatican, with the approval of the United States government - to keep an eye on things. Although no one on the local level really knew that. Not even the College administration. (They thought THEY had hired him.) The College was too important to the Church and the Nation. In fact O'Shaughnessy deliberately threw everyone off the scent. He adopted another persona, that of the "old duffer." Think of the character played by Wilfrid Brambell in "A Hard Day's Night," - the mischievous, old Irish duffer with sass and an eye for the ladies, or as Paul McCartney said in the movie, "he's a king mixer and he'll cost you a fortune in breach of promise suits."

But the point was, everyone thought he was a harmless, old man - slightly naughty and cantankerous - but harmless. Not to be taken seriously.

At least that was what he wanted any sleeper agents to think.

Another part of his false persona was that he was physically kaput: old, a cane user and often in pain. True, he was almost 80 years old, but in actuality he had the strength of a man one quarter his age. A martial arts expert, he would put these skills to use soon. Still, no one man could do this by himself. He needed help, he needed Uzi. Time to let the young whipper-snapper in on this caper.

Uzi went into the chapel to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, first ripping down the offending banner. It was a FELT banner! (Ugh) After awhile it hit him. Where did that circular white thing out in Kelly's field come from? He was always suspicious of it. It was supposed to be an 'observatory,' but . . . really . . . No one saw it delivered to the site or constructed on the spot. It just appeared one morning. Almost as if it emerged from out of the earth. From below. From under. From . . . down under?

Of course, Professor Townsend.

He was Australian, right? Or was he a New Zealander? Whatever. Close enough. "The Land of Down Under." Sure he had that gentle, teddy-bear personality but, as Uzi was soon to learn, things were not what they seemed. Later, O'Shaughnessy filled him in. Townsend was a sleeper agent. Himself presenting a different persona, pretending to be the gentle orthodox Catholic, "tradition loving koala bear," spouting science and St. Thomas in that really cute accent. Harmless, harmless . . . harmless?

Sure.

In reality he had been trained back in the late 60's and 70's as a very young man by the late Wo Fat, Steve McGarrett's old nemesis, to be an operative for the Red Chinese. The perfect scam. A white New Zealand orthodox Catholic. It seems the Chi-Comms wanted to destabilize the country, maybe even build a missile base on the campus. A dagger at the throat of the nation's capitol. They were going to realize their pernicious plans by first destabilizing the college itself. But how did Agent Townsend gain such control over President McConnell? Not even O'Shaughnessy quite knew at the time.

Uzi heard a commotion outside. President McConnell was outside the chapel trying to tear down the statue of Christ and replace it with a big sign that read, "Self-Actualization Fellowship Chapel." O'Shaughnessy snuck up behind him and gave him the Vulcan nerve pinch. "Uzi me laddie," he said, "we have to get out to Kelly's field and into that so-called 'observatory.' No time to explain."

They left the president lying by the statue, unconscious, to be dealt with later. It was decided that O'Shaughnessy would go first as a decoy because, sure enough, Townsend's young goons were there protecting the observatory. There were twenty of them, students, all wearing short ties in imitation of their merciless master. O'Shaughnessy came up to them on his cane, playing the old fool to perfection. "Well, me laddies, I just got me dispensation from the pope to marry one of these young Christendom beauties. Now what was her name . . . Sheila? . . . Mary? . . . uh . . . uh . . ." The guards started smirking. O'Shaughnessy bent over faking heart trouble. "Oh, its too much good news for me ticker to take . . . uh . . . a young colleen . . . uhhhh . . ."

A couple of the guards came forward to help. "All right gran' dad, you've had enough excitement for today." Whack! Whack! O'Shaughnessy straightened up and knocked them both unconscious with his cane. Five more of Townsend's goons came at him, but he whirled with one of his legs extended. It was just like in The Matrix - in slow-motion with everything coming to a stop as he made contact with them while in mid-kick - then everything sped up again as he knocked them all over like a row of bowling pins. This continued for about two minutes after which, with Uzi's help, there were twenty unconscious students lying in Kelly's field.

The two of them broke the lock on the observatory door and found some sort of ray-emitting mind control device inside. It had only two settings: 1) Annoying Secular College President, and 2) Annoying Irish-American Catholic College President. Uzi thought to himself, "you mean those are our only two choices?" O'Shaughnessy said, "let's just destroy it," - an idea to which Uzi readily agreed.

Having done this, they raced back to President McConnell to wake him up. Finally, he was free from those terrible rays. Free after almost thirty years. Free was his will, no longer impeded. Free to be the man he truly was with no undue outside influences. What would that be? They shook him. He rubbed his eyes, saying, "Where am I? What day is this?"

"You are at Christendom College and this is Saturday, September 27th," they both responded.

Suddenly he sat up and, looking at his watch, he beamed.

"Only 172 days and 13 1/2 more hours until St. Patrick's Day!"

The Talented Mr. Ripley

2008-10-21T01:00:00.018-04:00

Do you love beautiful scenery in Italy? Rome, Venice, Naples? Do you love good music of all types? Opera, Schubert trios, Classic Jazz, obscure Italian pop songs from 1958? Do you enjoy Matt Damon, Gyweneth Paltrow, Cate Blanchet, Jude Law and director Anthony Minghella? Then this MIGHT be a movie for you.

Then again it might not be, as a theme of the movie is "trouble in paradise."

The basic story is about a young man, "Mr. Ripley," played by Matt Damon who is sent by a wealthy ship builder (Mr. Greenleaf) to Italy to bring his spoiled young adult son back to America. Ripley is mistaken for a Princeton alumni, because he is wearing someone else's Princeton jacket, but he never has the guts to correct Mr. Greenleaf, who honestly thinks that he must have known his son, Dickie (played by Jude Law who affects a very good American accent). Thus the whole adventure begins because of a willfully allowed misunderstanding. As Ripley says, however, "I would rather be a fake somebody, rather than a real nobody.")

Ripley, takes advantage of the situation to see Italy and pal around with the Princeton alum ex-patriot rich kids over there. He and Dickie become friends and conspire to keep the charade going. Well, this is a troubled young man - a homosexual - and he ultimately develops a crush on Dickie Greenleaf. Dickie is not exactly Mr. Clean-Bill-of-Moral/Psychological-Health, himself. He has a main girlfriend, played by Gweneth Paltrow (Marge) who wants marriage, but has other "girlfriends" as well. He gets one of the local village girls pregnant, and she commits suicide.

So he has problems, but the basic human social skills and normal developments are there. He likes women - although in a very self-centered and destructive way.

Anyway, when Ripley reveals his feelings for Dickie he gets rebuffed and then an ugly scene ensues and a fight and Dickie ends up dead. This takes place in a row boat. The scene ends with an overview shot of Ripley laying down and hugging Dickie Greenleaf's lifeless body in the row boat which is rocking in an absolutely gorgeously blue Adriatic Sea.

This is a visual symbol of the theme of the movie which is "trouble in paradise." Gorgeous beauty outside, but all is not well. It also perfectly illustrates Ripley's psycho-sexual immaturity. He is not a well-developed man. First of all, his love is wrongly directed, then when it is rebuffed it turns violent, finally when he kills his "beloved" (not on purpose, though, it was "involuntary manslaughter" and partly accidental) he turns smarmy and sentimental. The visual symbol is beautiful and yet creepy. He is hugging someone who cannot choose to "hug back," but neither can a dead body refuse an embrace. (So that's good enough for him?) Kind of like a child hugging a teddy bear. An immature love. OK for a 2 year old, but a 24 year old?

And this is one of the things - aside from the gorgeous scenery and music - which I enjoyed about the movie. Verisimilitude. Even though all of the people who made the movie were classic Hollywood liberals (i.e. pro-homosexual). The psychosexual-development issues which generally lead to male homosexuality were all present in Matt Damon's character. I don't think this was the conscious intent of the director, at least judging from his commentary. And Minghella might even have denied this, claiming that Ripley was merely a "repressed homosexual" who needed to be freed up. Indeed there is a more "mature homosexual" in the movie for a brief time. I suppose for balance. Nonetheless, the characterization of the Ripley character by Damon (and Minghella and whoever the script writer was) is quite spot on - especially for those of us who have had to deal with male homosexuals (and you do in the secular art world).

Not to give the whole plot away, but it gets worse. Because Ripley looks somewhat like Dickie Greenleaf, he is able to pass himself off to people who didn't know Dickie using his passport. He steals his identity. But then he has to be "himself" around all of the people who did know Dickie well, and yet keep Dickie alive by claiming that he had just seen him or talked to him. (Dickie's body never turns up because Ripley buried it at sea).

Furthermore, the people who think Ripley is Dickie talk to the people who know he is not Dickie and he has to be very careful not to be in the same room with both groups of people. There are some very close escapes.

Well, he kills other people to keep this charade alive, but he is so good he never gets caught - but in a sense he wants to be caught and end the whole thing, but of course he can't quite do that. This is a line of deceptions which started with Mr. Greenleaf. He can't stop. He has a compulsion. And this is his punishment. Kind of like a Greek myth - the myth of Sisyphus? - he is doomed to stay in this state of guilt all by himself endlessly, because of his one talent of lying and deception.

The tension is almost unbearable, but the only way out is to confess, but with the bodies piling up (3-4 murders? I forget), this would mean life in prison if not execution.

He is trapped.

Because he wanted to be a fake somebody, he is loaded down with guilt and is all alone - a real nobody.

New Christendom CD!

2008-10-20T01:00:00.002-04:00

The fifth Christendom College CD entitled "Cantate Domino" should really (honestly, I mean it!) come out by this Christmas. By the time you read this I will have made the final corrections to the text and submitted them to the printer. This medieval sequence is what will be on the cover. The CD will consist of the five or so newly recorded choir pieces and the several newly recorded schola pieces, plus the "best of" of the last three CD's. It is meant to replace the first CD which is a "generic - non-thematic" CD which the College gives out to potential students and donors. This one is definitely of a higher quality. (I have a sentimental attachment to that first one from 2000, but it needed to be replaced.)

Some of the tracks are quite stunning. Especially the most recently recorded. This is some very good singing for liberal arts students. I don't mean that as a put down. Those of us who specialize sometimes can't think our way out of a paper bag. I greatly admire the intensive liberal arts training that the Christendom students receive. You all will have an important influence on the culture in whatever you do, even (no especially) as parents. I just wish that it would have been combined with certain basic training in music (also a liberal art) that started in grade school and that I could then further refine instead of having to start at a more basic level.

But, as I said, for a group of people who weren't music majors nor ever had to take a music class, you have done astoundingly well in some of the tracks. Astoundingly well. Far better than what I can remember of my college choir - which I wasn't in, I was a real "bando" at the time.

Sorry!

2008-10-17T01:00:00.006-04:00

Very sorry to do this to you, but no Uzi today. I have extensive notes and the basic plot worked out, but not the 2-4 hours it takes me to write and polish these little stories. I will definitely put it out next week - as I will be on Fall Break - and will try very hard to do it by Wednesday. First I will be in Stevens Point, WI doing a chant workshop at a parish. This workshop is basically affiliated with the CMAA. (Anyone at Scott Turkington's workshop in N. Virginia the same weekend, send my regards.) The stipend from this workshop will pay for my new computer. ("Baby needs new shoes!")

Oh, yes. And I also will be spreading the good word about how to sing the "music proper to the Roman Rite."

Then I will be in Grand Rapids, MI visiting my mother, sister and my friends from the Schola of the Chair of St. Peter.

Resting a bit. Maybe even polishing another artistic gem - and then, back to the Christendom grind. (It is a good place - very good, actually. I'm very blessed. The institution does very good work and I am blessed with some good friends whom I hope to get to know even better.)

Ed Feser Blog

2008-10-16T01:00:00.002-04:00

Conservative Blogger and Thomistic Philosopher, Ed Feser, writes on everything from Mind/Brain Reductionism and The New Atheism to Austrian Economics. [And ladies, he's handsome, too - well, in a slightly rugged sort of way.] Check out his blog which is http://edwardfeser.blogspot.com/ Here is a sample:
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Some brief arguments for dualism, Part I

It is unreasonable to expect even the best argument for a controversial philosophical position to be capable, in one fell swoop and all by itself, of convincing the most skeptical opponent – or, indeed, even to move him slightly in the direction of reconsidering his position. That is (usually, anyway) simply not how the human mind works. A dispute over some particular argument for the existence of God, mind-body dualism, or traditional sexual morality (to take just three examples) can reflect a tacit disagreement about fundamental metaphysical assumptions that is so deep and unconscious that the parties to the dispute (or at least one party, usually the skeptical or “naturalist” one) are barely aware that it exists at all, and often talk past each other as a result. What seems like an obvious objection to an argument can often constitute in reality a failure to see the point of the argument, and in particular a failure to see that what the argument does is precisely to call into question the intelligibility or rational justifiability of the objection itself. While the argument in question can in many cases be stated fairly simply and straightforwardly, pages and pages, indeed an entire book, might be required in order to set the stage so that its terms and basic assumptions are properly understood, and that countless point-missing objections might patiently be swept away like so much intellectual rubbish standing in the way of understanding.

Some common objections to dualism are like this. They falsely assume, for example, that any argument for dualism must be something analogous to a “God of the gaps” argument – a “soul of the gaps,” as it were – which seeks to exploit some current lacuna in our knowledge of the brain and to suggest that the “hypothesis” of an immaterial substance might explain what neuroscientists have so far been unable to. It is then objected that such an explanation would violate Ockham’s razor, that neuroscience has already “explained” x, y, and z and thus can be expected to explain everything else, etc. etc. I hear these objections frequently. They are often presented by people who mean well, and who are not entirely uninformed about some of the arguments presented by both materialists and anti-materialists in the philosophy of mind. But they nevertheless reflect a very shallow understanding of the debate. For the main arguments for dualism do not have this structure at all. They are not quasi-scientific “explanatory” “hypotheses” which “postulate” the existence of this or that as one way among others (albeit the most “probable”) of “accounting for” “the evidence.” They are intended rather as strict metaphysical demonstrations. They either prove conclusively that the mind is immaterial or they prove nothing. And if they work, there can be no question of the materialist looking for other possible ways to explain “the data.” For the existence of an immaterial mind, or an immaterial aspect to the mind, will, given such a proof, simply have itself to be taken as a piece of data for which any acceptable theory has to account.

Again, this doesn’t mean that one should judge such arguments based on one’s immediate reaction to a first reading; to prove something conclusively doesn’t mean to prove it instantly, to the immediate satisfaction of the most hostile and stubborn skeptic. Even properly understanding an argument, especially in metaphysics, can require a great deal of effort and sustained thought. Still, some dualist arguments are straightforward enough that at least their basic thrust can be put fairly succinctly, even if a complete treatment would require various further explanations of this or that premise or key concept. In this post and several succeeding ones I want to present some of these arguments, in as brief a form as possible. (Further elaboration can be found in my books Philosophy of Mind and The Last Superstition.)

One aspect of the mind that philosophers have traditionally considered particularly difficult to account for in materialist terms is intentionality, which is that feature of a mental state in virtue of which it means, is about, represents, points to, or is directed at something, usually something beyond itself. Your thought about your car, for example, is about your car – it means or represents your car, and thus “points to” or is “directed at” your car. In this way it is like the word “car,” which is about, or represents, cars in general. Notice, though, that considered merely as a set of ink marks or (if spoken) sound waves, “car” doesn’t represent or mean anything at all; it is, by itself anyway, nothing but a meaningless pattern of ink marks or sound waves, and acquires whatever meaning it has from language users like us, who, with our capacity for thought, are able to impart meaning to physical shapes, sounds, and the like.

Now the puzzle intentionality poses for materialism can be summarized this way: Brain processes, like ink marks, sound waves, the motion of water molecules, electrical current, and any other physical phenomenon you can think of, seem clearly devoid of any inherent meaning. By themselves they are simply meaningless patterns of electrochemical activity. Yet our thoughts do have inherent meaning – that’s how they are able to impart it to otherwise meaningless ink marks, sound waves, etc. In that case, though, it seems that our thoughts cannot possibly be identified with any physical processes in the brain. In short: Thoughts and the like possess inherent meaning or intentionality; brain processes, like ink marks, sound waves, and the like, are utterly devoid of any inherent meaning or intentionality; so thoughts and the like cannot possibly be identified with brain processes.

You can, as I have implied, look at this as just a “puzzle” for materialism – one which might be solved by developing a complex functional analysis of mental states, or by framing materialism in terms of the concept of “supervenience” rather than identity or reduction, or whatever. Or you can see it as a very simple and straightforward statement of an objection that, while it can also be formulated in much more sophisticated and technical terms and in a way that takes account of and preempts the various objections materialists might try to raise against it, nevertheless goes to the core of the problem with materialism, and indeed shows why materialism cannot be true. This latter view is the one I endorse. I maintain that the problem for materialism just described is insuperable. It shows that a materialist explanation of the mind is impossible in principle, a conceptual impossibility. And the reason has in part to do with the concept of matter to which materialists themselves are at least implicitly committed. Some of the further posts in this series will develop this suggestion. Along the way we will see (among other things) that the common materialist claim that “everything else has been explained in materialist terms” is an urban legend, based on nothing more than conceptual sleight of hand coupled with historical ignorance. Stay tuned.

Lecture at the College Tonight

2008-10-15T01:00:00.003-04:00

"The Mass: How Extraordinary?!" is a lecture that will be delivered by Fr. William at the Library Coffee Shoppe tonight at 8 PM.

Successful Party!

2008-10-14T01:00:00.002-04:00

Well, I had my first party Sunday night at my apartment after my new steps were completed. I had students, former students, two of their children (ages: 1 1/2 and 1) - all told, around 15 people. I actually prepared too much food. It will go to use, later. I good time was had by all - as they say. Lots of good conversation and we all watched Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps" to celebrate the completion of the steps. It was my first time for that movie, and I still am not clear what the title meant, except that it was the name of the secret organization of spies. Why they choose that name, I don't know, but no actual "steps" were involved in the movie.

Oh, well.

I am planning on another party for the evening of November 1 (All Saints), so keep that free my dear blog-readers. I will send out a formal invitation soon. This will kind of be a "Byrd party." We will have sung the Byrd polyphonic propers from the Gradualia at Mass that day. Also, I have a movie on "The Two Lives of William Byrd" and will have two books: "Liturgy and Contemplation in Byrd's Gradualia" by Kerry McCarthy and "Byrd: a Celebration," which is a compilation of addresses given at the annual Byrd Festival held in Portland, Oregon.

More later.

Summer Reading

2008-10-13T01:00:00.001-04:00

I read four novels this summer and I am going to blog briefly about them before I forget too much. It was back in June, so I already have forgotten a fair amount anyway.

The first novel was - get ready for this - Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye." I read it because there was an article in the Remnant criticizing it, and I have heard about it for years, so I thought it was time to read it. It is a novel about this teenager, Holden Caufield, who is a bit of a conceited punk - a smart aleck - who has been kicked out of various boarding schools. Unfortunately, he is rather funny, an amusing person. He leaves the current boarding school he is at after he receives a gift of some money from a relative, and ends up spending the weekend in New York City. I won't say much more - because I can't remember much more - except that it is a coming of age novel. He actually is not the worst person and has some concern about a younger sister and little children in general whom he wants to protect from the harshness of adult life. However, he comes to a conclusion that I just can't agree with - but I can't for the life of me remember what it was.

Next novel.

The reviewer at the Remnant said that a better coming of age novel is "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," so I read it. It is very well written and not as full of profanity as "Catcher in the Rye" but it has some problems. It takes place in a neighborhood in Brooklyn and follows a family with an alcoholic father and a hard working mother, but focuses on the young daughter from the age of 10 through 18. It begins about 1908 and therefore ends in 1918. It was made into a movie in the 1940's and has a "heart-warming" feel, kind of like the Waltons but with some key differences - and these are why I could not recommend it to a "young person." The movie, I understand, cleaned up all of these things. The Aunt (I think her name is Aunt Sissie) is a bigamist. The joke is that, "because she is Catholic she doesn't believe in divorce. That is why she didn't actually divorce any of the four men whom she married." Of course, she married all of these men in civil ceremonies in different jurisdictions, and if no one was motivated to look into this . . . Anyway, these marriages would have all been invalid in the eyes of the Church. She is a certain real character type - I can think of several real life women whom she resembles: a kind of bold, amoral earth mother type.

Actually the main problems I have in the book have to do with the notion that "experience" is key to life - any experience. In one passage, the daughter, at about age 17, has to deal with a young American soldier whom she is dating who wants her to sleep with him before he ships out to France. She turns him down, but thinks that he loves her. She later finds out that, shortly after that, he married his fiance! Heartbroken she tells her mother the whole story. Her mother then proceeds to say that, as a mother, she would say that she did the right thing by refusing; but, as a 'woman,' she would have told her that she shouldn't have denied herself this 'experience.' (I am trying to imagine my great grandmother telling my grandmother that in 1917. Nope. It doesn't ring true.) This and other similar passages seem to be the projections of a 1940's Ann Arbor coed, Betty Smith - the author, who ultimately picked up these 19th century Bohemian artist ideas from her liberal professors at the Univ. of Mich.

Third Book. "The Magnificent Ambersons" by Booth Tarkington. I was looking for his novel "Seventeen" which was also recommended by the Remnant reviewer as a good coming of age novel, but I couldn't find it. I settled for the "Magnificent Ambersons" as it was available and I had heard of it before. I was curious. This novel had a somewhat similar theme to that of the movie "Alfie." Not in that it was about a playboy, but in that it is also about a very self-centered headstrong young man - a spoiled rich kid, in this case - who has to get the stuffing beat out of him (figuratively, through bad experience) in order for him to undergo a moral conversion. This was Orson Welles' second movie, right after "Citizen Kane." I have never seen it. The story takes place in late nineteenth century America.

Finally, I figured, "well I'm in the nineteenth century, so I might as well read some Jane Austin. I read "Pride and Prejudice" and have spoken about it before so I won't say too much. I had never read Jane Austin before and had been given the impression, by a certain GNF, that it was the literary equivalent of those frilly things that some women wear. Character development and interaction aside, I was impressed by its architechtonic strengths - how's that for a masculine compliment! I could detect an almost symphonic structure in it.

Well, that's all for now until I get a chance to read at some length again.

A New Characrer on Uzi - Super Schola Dog

2008-10-10T01:00:00.003-04:00

No story for this week, but get ready for the introduction of a new character: "Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy." Probably next Friday.

Six Elements Common to Many Woody Allen Movies

2008-10-09T01:00:00.004-04:00

1) New York City.

2) Good '40's big band jazz (and often classical music) on the soundtrack.

3) Woody Allen playing a neurotic character who is a real schmuck.

4) Relationship "issues" typical to upper-income Mannhattan types and, therefore, his own rather messy life.

5) Modern Philosophy [I mean real 'old-fashioned' modern philosophy - Nietsche, Sartre, etc. - nothing post-modern (although "Deconstructing Harry" might be an exception - I haven't seen it), very little before Descartes. He will mention Plato or Aristotle, but clearly doesn't take them seriously, isn't interested, etc.].

6) References to old movies, sometimes cleverly integrated, like Shakespeare's "play within a play" as in Hamlet (e.g. the way "Double Indemnity" is worked into the climactic shoot-out scene in "Manhattan Murder Mystery")

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Of course, I haven't seen all of his movies, and - I suppose I neeed to specify for some of my readers - I fully recognize that parts of them are terrible, but parts of them are hilarious and they can be cleverly done.

Liturgy Joke

2008-10-08T01:00:00.001-04:00

In discussing with someone the new English translation of the Mass, which, among other things, will render "et cum spiritu tuo" more correctly as "and with your spirit." (it would be too much to hope for "and with thy spirit") we wondered out loud how easily many Catholics will be able to make the switch. The still current ICEL translation, "and also with you," is so ingrained that at the one Anglican Use Mass held at Christendom about five years ago, the otherwise very conservative students just instinctively replied, "And also with you" - even though for the Anglican Use requires "and with thy spirit," which was carefully printed in the program.

This reminded me of the joke about the priest who was having trouble with his microphone at the beginning of Mass and then, as he was saying to himself, "there must be some problem with the microphone," it suddenly went on.

The people instinctively, without thinking, replied, "and also with you."

Poetry at Christendom! (Cancelled)

2008-10-07T01:00:00.006-04:00

Update: Sorry, just found out this evening that it was cancelled.

Tonight, Tuesday October 7, at 8 PM in St. Kilian's Cafe. The poetry of Pavel Chichikov. A live reading by the poet himself. 'Pavel Chichikov' is the pen name of an American who spent part of the Cold War on Soviet territory. His wrting career goes back to the 1970's, when he published poems in The New Yorker, well before his reception into the Catholic Church in 1988. He has published two books of poetry, and his photography has won awards from the catholic Press Association. He lives in Washington, D.C.
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Oh, and happy Feast of the Holy Rosary. Say at least one rosary to our Blessed Mother today! (I went to the Tridentine Mass at the College this morning which is now scheduled for every Tuesday at 7:30 AM and Thursday at 5:15 PM!)

Latin Saying About National Vocal Characteristics

2008-10-06T01:00:00.003-04:00

"Galli cantant,

Italiae capriant,

Germani ululant,

Anglici jubilant."

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Tough to translate, but I think it would be rendered:

"The French sing,

the Italians bray,

the Germans howl,

the English joyfully shout.

(quoted by Ornithoparcus, "Micrologus," 1517)

Texas Schola Dawg Meets His Mentor

2008-10-03T01:00:00.037-04:00

Polly was in the choir director's office on a Saturday afternoon cleaning and straightening things up. Not that he had asked her to do so, but it needed doing. She had gotten a key from one of the sacristans. The Director was brilliant, but disorganized. No domestic sense. She sighed to herself, "a typical man." As she walked out the door to fill up a bucket with water, she almost ran straight into her archnemesis Texas Schola Dawg. "I dreamt about your long blonde hair last night, heh, heh, heh," he said, leering at her.

She rolled her eyes. Polly was used to this, but still couldn't quite understand it. It's not that she wasn't proud of her hair, but this tendency of some men to detach parts of a woman's body and almost bow down and worship them like little idols always puzzled her. She wouldn't mind a man loving a feature of hers because it was part of her - the woman whom he loved - but this was . . . yuck . . . . She was even more annoyed that Texas Schola Dawg, of all people, was a stimulus to philosophical reflection. Whatever.

"What do you want?"

"Well, now that you ask, darlin', heh, heh, heh . . ." Polly felt pretty stupid. That certainly was the wrong question to ask.

"I need to get in there and borrow a copy of Durufle's 'Ubi caritas,' it's not on cpdl . . ."

"so you can then make some illegal photocopies?" she completed. "Oh no you don't! The copyright to that piece is still in effect!" She had mistakenly left both of the double doors open, and he tried to pass to her left side. She moved and blocked his way. Then he tried to go around her right side. She blocked him again. He tried another move but she kept with him. Polly felt like some sort of silly combination offensive guard/beginning ballroom dance student. She could think of better ways to spend her Saturday afternoon.

Finally Texas Schola Dawg stopped, but with the biggest sinister grin on his face she had ever seen. "Well if you're not going to let me borrow 'Ubi caritas,' then perhaps I am going to have to show you 'where love REALLY is,'" he said pointing to his puckered lips. "Oh, no, what am I going to do now?" thought Polly. "There is no way Uzi could get here this fast and, besides, he is out of range on a special mission in the Diocese of Las Vegas, Nevada." Yes, that's right. Las Vegas. A place where the stakes are high - and the Masses are low.

Uzi had his hands full enough as it was.

Texas Schola Dawg reared back ready to charge her. He looked like a raging bull, albeit one who had just sucked on a lemon. She decided she had to be a dancer rather than an offensive guard at that point, so, executing a quick left chasse to get out of his way, she let her right foot drag just enough so he tripped over it. Flying through the air into the office, he landed on the music table which she had just polished. The slickness of its newly polished surface catapulted him head first right into the file cabinets where he lay unconscious. Little stars circled around his head just like in a cartoon.

Next something strange happened. Was he dreaming it or was it real? He felt a big hand pick him up by the scruff of the neck and pull him out of the choir director's office into another dimension. Another dimension of time and space? . . . of greatness? . . . of blogdom? . . . of . . . of . . . Was it really him? THE MAN himself?

Yes, it was.

Anthony Smitha.

Small-time pool hustler, devout Catholic, and one-time proprietor of a bebop record shop, Anthony currently works in computers. He is better known, however, as what the IRS designates as a "GNF," or Gentleman Nuisance Flirt - a role model, mentor, and gold standard for all such men worldwide.

He held Texas Schola Dawg by the scruff of his neck while his little legs kicked in the air. "Bad doggie. You've been a bad little feller," Anthony roared. He next administered a quick firm admonitory tap with his right index finger to the dog's nose. Then, having been dropped to the ground, Texas Schola Dawg quickly assumed a prostrate posture of worship before his hero. "Oh, sire, what have I done to incur your wrath?"

"Get off your knees. I'm not God. So don't worship me . . . too much!" "Haw, haw, haw, I pulled your leg there little feller," he said in a big booming voice, almost like the Jolly Green Giant. "You have been way out of line and giving us GNF's - and the State of Texas - a bad name. Don't you remember our Latin motto?" Texas Schola Dawg pronounced it slowly, syllable by syllable, like a catechism answer he had learned in childhood, "Sem-per vex-a-re, num-quam pec-ca-re." (Always to Annoy, Never to Sin). "If you are going to annoy a woman, let it be without sin. That is the code of the Gentleman Nuisance Flirt," Anthony said sagely. "Never actually touch the woman," he emphasized. "I have been watching you for some time and you have real talent. A God-given gift to annoy women, so use it properly, don't abuse it!"

[Editor's Note: Although the Federal Government does allow for the deduction of business expenses on a special Schedule C-GNF it actually stands for "General Nuisance Flirt." Not "Gentleman Nuisance Flirt." But don't tell Anthony that. Or Dr. Poterack. It will ruin the premise for his entire story.]

"But what is the concrete advantage of being a gentleman? Do the women ever actually respond to you?" Texas Schola Dawg asked. Anthony was caught by surprise and replied quite candidly, "Well usually I am just told 'no,' but I also have been slapped, kneed in the groin, and had ice water poured down my back. At the end of the day, however, I know that the ladies respect me and THIS is the advantage of being a Gentleman Nuisance Flirt." Having listened carefully to what he just said, Anthony was seized by a sudden inner doubt, but, squeezing hard, he fought it off. "I gotta do it for the kid. I gotta do it for the kid."

Then he delivered his coup de grace, "And, if all else fails, its just fun to annoy women!"

"But how did you get your start?" Texas Schola Dawg asked. "Well, I started out doing small things when I was a boy." Anthony said, "I used to make nuisance phone calls collect to a girl who, being so impressed by my technique, would accept the charges. I knew I had a gift. It blossomed from there. You have a gift, too," he said giving an encouraging wink.

Anthony was about to hand him a list of tips:

1) Pray the rosary
2) Lift weights
3) Fanatical devotion to Dr. Poterack
4) Shop at Jos. Banks
5) Cornball sense of humor.

He quickly scratched out number three, saying to himself, "the kid's just not ready for the big leagues yet."

"Anything else, oh, great one," said Texas Schola Dawg feeling a renewed vigor in his vocation.

"Oh, yes, here's a zinger I want you to use on Polly. Get ready for this one: 'Polly, frankly beauty makes me want to vomit, so, on this - the first anniversary of us not dating - I want to show you just how beautiful I think you are.'"

"Haw, haw, haw . . ."

"Heh, heh, heh . . ."

Polly stood in front of an unconscious Texas Schola Dawg, lying on the floor in front of the filing cabinets in the Choir Director's Office. She actually began to feel sorry for him. Then, all of the sudden, she heard him laugh in his unconscious state, "heh, heh, heh . . ."

"Oh no!" thought Polly, "Oh no!"

The Steps!

2008-10-02T01:00:00.011-04:00

It looks like, after 3 years, the steps to my apartment will finally be finished. My landlord is so close to finishing that I think it will take only 4 more days. I would like to have some sort of an after-dinner party, with plenty of time for socializing, but would culminate in watching Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps." I have never seen it, but it fits in with the occasion as a kind of joke. We could watch something else. Before I send out anything more formal, let me know if this would be problematic. (I come to you first, my faithful blog readers.)

Although it should take only 4 more days, anything from bad weather to inertia could intervene. I will give him a little extra time just to be safe.

My first thought was Saturday evening, October 11, although now I see that that is Homecoming, so I doubt people would be interested. Perhaps, Sunday evening October 12? I don't want to conflict with Jonathan D.'s listening event, but I don't know if he is continuing it anyway. Perhaps Col. Klink could chime in on that one.

If this doesn't work, perhaps we can wait until after Fall Break as I will be doing a workshop in Wisconsin, and then in Michigan for the rest of the week. Sometime in November?
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P.S. And if not this event, then (and perhaps it would be better) at another event I want you alumni "liturgy hounds" to meet Fr. William - an absolutely fascinating treasure trove of information on all sorts of scholarly and gossipy things about the liturgy. I mean discussion AT LENGTH. Being the sensitive 90's male, I would like to "facilitate" this. Also you need to see him and Mickey Krebs together, as I did after my talk Tuesday. They are frightfully naughty together!

Story of My Birth

2008-10-01T01:00:00.012-04:00

Well, since the whole birthday thing is out now, I suppose I can tell what I was told happened when I was born. (Mom, feel free to jump in and correct me if I am wrong on anything or if you wish to add something).

I was born at home - very unusual for the time, and delivered by my father - extremely unusual for the time. This was a time when husbands were not typically even in the delivery room, and it's not that my father was a doctor. He was an artist. I suppose he might have been tempted to sketch the event, but that is another story.

It was near the due date and the labor pains came suddenly and violently. My mom couldn't even move. Fortunately my mother was standing near the bed, so my dad was able to lower her to the bed. [He once said he "pushed her," but I was never quite sure when my dad was joking. (Sorry to be somewhat indiscreet, but) he also used to say that when my mom was pregnant with me, he used to tap rhythms on her stomach and that I would tap them back in utero. He always said this with a perfectly straight face, but it can't be true . . .) Anyway, my grandmother (my mom's mom) was already in the house for some reason. I believe she called the ambulance, but this woman - who had had five children of her own - would not go into the bedroom to be with her daughter. She nervously paced outside in the hallway, leaving the job totally to her son-in-law - who had had no experience, first-hand (obviously) or second-hand, with childbirth.

I guess I was born very quickly because it was before the ambulance came. This is one of the reasons I was called "Kurt" (from "currere," to flow, i.e. quick). Apparently my left shoulder was out of its socket, so my dad just popped it back into place. (That was so typical of my dad. I am sure he even found it mildly amusing.) When the ambulance arrived he had to follow behind in the car. He said that it was only then, when he put his left hand on the steering wheel, that he realized it was asleep. There was no feeling from having supported my mom's lower back during the whole procedure. (Of course the feeling did come back to his hand eventually.)

Apparently the custom then was to keep the mother and child in the hospital for three days. Well, what to do with my older brother Karl who was 1 1/2 at that time? Since there really was no such thing as "paternity leave," and my dad had to get back to work, Karl was left with one of my mom's girlfriends - a married lady with several children of her own. Of course, even with a father's constant presence, a 1 1/2 year old is going to miss his mother.

After I was brought back home with my mother, Karl didn't yet know of my existence. When he came home he gave my mother the cold shoulder for having "deserted him." Apparently he sat on his rocking horse rocking away, ignoring her when she talked to him (I think also ignoring a proferred sucker). Suddenly he heard me cry out from the other room. Jumping off of his rocking horse to investigate this strange sound, he discovered his younger brother with whom he was completely fascinated. All was forgotten and forgiven.

Although apparently the gentle fraternal feelings wore off. From what I remember, for the next ten years - boys being boys - he would wrestle me to the ground 2-3 times a week after dinner and sit on my face. But that, truly, is another story . . .

Lecture Today

2008-09-30T01:00:00.002-04:00

Today, September 30th at 8 PM in the rotunda of the Christendom Library I will give a lecture/demonstration entitled "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms." Prepare to be edified.

Lecture Tommorrow and Thank You!

2008-09-29T01:00:00.005-04:00

On Tuesday, September 30th at 8 PM in the rotunda of the Christendom Library I will give a lecture/demonstration entitled "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms." Yes, 'forms' (plural). That will be a big part of the lecture. This is cosponsored by the library and the Beato Fra Angelico Fine Arts Series. Hope you can come.

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Also as part of the Fine Arts Series, there will be a fortepiano recital on Wednesday, Nov. 12 at 8 PM and a Woodwind Quintet Concert on Saturday Nov. 22 at 7 PM.

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P.S. Well, I guess due to the internet nothing is secret. I was given a birthday party with cake by my Palestrina choristers after our rehearsal yesterday and taken out to dinner later in the day. Honestly, I think the last birthday "party" I had was when I was either 11 or 12 years old. I was deeply touched. I want to thank all the people who came and especially those involved in the planning, whom I assume were the "usual suspects" - and who had to do it at the last minute. I don't always show my gratitude very well in person, so I want to make it clear in writing how moved I was. It was a very nice gesture (or series of gestures) and it meant a lot to me.

Many of these people were former students of mine, some are now married, one is a professor, and one is famous enough to . . . well you will find out soon enough. I remember my first year at the college and how angry and frustrated I was at something that was ocurring (can't go into details). I almost literally packed up and left (July/August 2000). After some painful years things finally worked themselves out. Had I not signed my contract and left that Summer of 2000, I would not have met ANY of these wonderful people who are now an important part of my life.

Thank you, all of you, for your friendship!

Uzi - Super Schola Dog

2008-09-26T01:00:00.002-04:00

Due to his creator having to work on his Gregorian Chant Presentation - which will be Tuesday, Sept. 30, 8 PM, in the Christendom Library Rotunda - Uzi will be on extended sabbatical. He will come back sometime in October.
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P.S. Although another Uzi episode will probably appear next Friday, Oct. 3 with a VERY special guest. I am sure you ladies will enjoy this one! K.P.

Reminder of Upcoming Lecture

2008-09-25T01:00:00.000-04:00

With Hope In Their Eyes . . .

2008-09-24T01:00:00.000-04:00

One of the hardest things about hearing choir auditions - and I heard 35 of them this Fall - is to see the hope in the eyes of some of these young people. The vast majority were incoming freshmen. Some of the gals are still very innocent and sweet (a few of the guys, too, for that matter) with a touch of naivete. They clearly have this hope in their eyes . . . but what comes out of their mouths! I had to turn away 20 of them. Not all of them were terrible, but I couldn't take more than 15 new choristers and so had to rank them. Ironically - and I have noticed this over the years - at least half of the ones who say they are taking 'voice lessons' are much worse than the ones who have never had a voice lesson. A few are good, and one or two who take voice lessons are extremely good, but about 50% who have taken a year or more of voice lessons are pretty bad. Are they taking voice lessons because they are bad and trying to get better (but not succeeding), or is it that (I fear) the voice lessons are making them worse?

I know I have to do my job, but being the one who has to kill the hope in such innocent faces just breaks my heart sometimes. However, they survive and so do I.

More from Wulstan

2008-09-23T01:00:00.003-04:00

"The brilliance of Cardinal College was short-lived; its sky darkened first in 1528, when tremors of reformism were felt. Many of its canons had been attracted from Cambridge [though Wolsey had failed to secure Cranmer, Walter Haddon and Mathew Parker (KP: an unmitigated blessing, actually)] and were of a humanistic and reformist persuasion. Illegal books were discovered at the college, and Taverner himself was involved in the incident. Though ending in tragedy for some of his colleagues, Taverner escaped the stake, being, as the Dean said 'unlearned, and not to be regarded.' (i.e. a talented but dumb musician not to be taken seriously enough to be guilty of an intellectual heresy.) . . . (With the downfall and death of the college's founder, Cardinal Wolsey,) the great college which he cherished was run down. Its vestments, plate, music and other articles were confiscated by the king. The quantity of vestments was probably enormous - Magdalen, for instance, boasted more than a hundred chasubles and a hundred and fifty copes. Taverner returned to Lincolnshire, fully expecting that the college would be destroyed. It narrowly escaped this fate however, being instead refounded by Henry VIII as Christ Church, the college chapel becoming the cathedral of the new diocese of Oxford."

(Wulstan, David, "Tudor Music," pg. 268)

Papal Quotation on Sacred Music

2008-09-22T01:00:00.003-04:00

"An authentic updating of sacred music can take place only in the lineage of the great tradition of the past, of Gregorian chant and sacred polyphony.”

Pope Benedict XVI
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I have a poster on my office door with this quotation of which I am quite proud. However, I have had second thoughts. It initially sounds quite good, but I am made uneasy by the term "updating." This may very well be a poor translation of the Italian word for "renewal," which I find better. The problem is that you don't "update" sacred music - you PRESERVE it in regular practice, and then you ADD to its treasury, its storehouse, via those regularly experienced models.

"Updating" makes it sound like the model itself needs to be altered - electrical wiring put in, a new coat of paint, extensive interior remodeling, etc. OR it makes it sound like the model itself need not be preserved in regular practice, only that the architechts of the new need to refer to some old blueprints for "inspiration" when building the new buildings.

I doubt that either of these is what Papa Bene actually meant.

Uzi and the Alto

2008-09-19T01:00:00.076-04:00

As the flames upward licked, Uzi placed another copy of 'Gather Comprehensive' in the fireplace to guard against a cold evening when he came across this article in his latest copy of Instaurare: "Band of Roving Altos Menace Campus."

"What has become of my beloved alma mater?," he said aloud, "and what of the choir? "and . . . what of the altos?" "They didn't used to be like this! They were so shy and unobtrusive, so - "unsoprano-like." (Well, at least unlike the caricature of the soprano prima donna.) He fondly recalled the T-shirt some of them used to wear: "The Alto Section: We're Not So Bad After All, In Fact We're Pretty Swell, When You Think About It, If You Have The Time, But - No Big Hurry."

Self-esteem issues. Talented, true; and very faithful - but, self-esteem issues. Well, that's what happens when you are the "composer's after thought." The sopranos soaring, the basses bounding, the tenors triumphant, but the altos - "Oh, yeah, I forgot, I guess I'll have them double the root of the chord." But then Uzi saw a name - Sally Schwartz - and things began to click. It seems she was the ring leader of this gang of altos. Sally, or "Big Gal Sal," used to taunt Polly when she would walk by in her Sunday finest. "Hey pretty girl," she would spit out, "why don't you come down off of those stilts and fight like a man." Everyone knew what the tough act was ultimately about. Sally was jealous of all the attention Polly got from Texas Schola Dawg.

Not that Polly wanted it. As far as Polly was concerned, Sally could have Texas Schola Dawg, all of him - all the time. But Texas Schola Dawg never noticed Sally, nor did any of the other tenors or basses.

After all, she was only an alto.

Four years of not being asked to Spring Formal, or rarely asked to dance at all. From this long term neglect can come bitterness and resentment - neglect's two misbegotten children - and then, a certain hardening. Sally first, but then, many of the other altos followed suit.

Often they would hang around outside of St. Catherine's waiting for the more girly sopranos to come out. Tripping them or shooting verbal darts like, "I've seen you without makeup," or "Are your hips getting bigger?," they would reduce them to tears. Polly watched with maternal concern. Something had to be done, but what? The administration was barely aware of the problem, student life only offered "mediation," the choir director was a hopeless artiste caught up in his own little world.

She needed action. She needed Uzi - Super Schola Dog. The problem was that she needed his HELP, she didn't need HIM, but sometimes he got the two confused. "And" she wondered, "could he deal with fighting girl dogs?" Still, this was an emergency. She had to try something. Sally swallowed hard and then sent out her distress signal.

Uzi responded immediately and, circling over the Christendom campus, spotted the girl fight (or the cat fight among dogs?) - this time near St. Augustine's. Still not sure what he was going to do, he landed suddenly, and the sight of a short, stocky dog with a cape dropping from the sky was enough to scatter all of them - except Sally. She stared menacingly at him, and he at her. He decided he was going to teach her a lesson.

A voice lesson.

So taking her into the St. Augustine piano room, he sat down with her at the piano and took her through some warm-up excercises, messa di voce, onset and release. They tried head/chest voice excercises and scales. She could easily sing above the staff, the notes in the middle of the staff were quite strong, and - surprise, surprise - her lower passaggio was an "f."

They both looked at each other. She spoke first.

"So you mean I'm not actually an alto, . . . I'm . . . a . . . a . . ."

"A mezzo-soprano," completed Uzi.

As a tear slid down her cheek, Sally removed her backwards baseball cap. A mound of golden, blonde hair (which Uzi had never seen) cascaded down her neck and shoulders. She removed her glasses. A cloud parted and a beam of gentle sunlight shined through the window and kissed her now pleasant face. She was beautiful. "My dear sir," she addressed Uzi, "you have awakened in me a spark of tenderness, of feminine sentiment I have not felt in years. For the first time in a very long time I feel like . . ."

"a woman."
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Cut to: Main Street, Front Royal, Virginia

A lonely musician/writer artiste walks on a deserted sidewalk and passes the gazebo. He is about to cross the road when suddenly, almost out of nowhere, four black Lincoln Town Cars screech to a stop in front of him. Federal agents in dark suits, sunglasses, and ear pieces bound out and surround him menacingly.

"What's this all about?"

The leader shows him a badge. They are with the Federal Agency for Anti-discrimination Against Altos, Resulting in Outrageous Unemployment Troubles, or FAAAAR OUT, established in 1967. What had been a hippie-dippie agency founded at the tail end of Johnson's "Great Society," had acquired black-ops technology and "attitude" during the Reagan administration. For some odd reason, they kept the name.

"We have been monitoring your blog stories for sometime now and have decided to intervene," said the leader of the group. "Your sneering references to altos were bad enough, but implying that an alto isn't actually a woman is going too far. You have crossed the line Mister - and there will be a price to pay."

Suddenly, ten Front Royal police cars arrive. Sirens blaring, lights flashing, they surround the federal agents. Thirty deputies get out and train their rifles on the federal agents. A quintessential Southern Sheriff ambles out of one of the cars while hiking his pants over his almost obligatory paunch.

"What we have hyere, is a failure to communicate," he directs at the federal agents. "Haven't ah told you federal boys before that this hyere is mah jurisdiction?" "Now, he may be a Ca-tho-lick, but he is one of mah boys. And if he is a-misbehavin', ah will take care of it. You hyear?"

"But, we're federal agents, we have jurisdiction everywhere!," one of them said defiantly.

The Sheriff smiled and said, "Ah believe the answer to that is in what mah Ca-tho-lick friends call the principle of sub-si-dee-AR-i-TEE," he pronounced slowly. All thirty Front Royal deputies simultaneously cocked their rifles, as if to make the point a little more forcefully than St. Thomas would have.

"Now, ah will kahndly ask you boys to get your $1,000 Brooks Brothers suits back into yo' cars, and head back east on US 66. If'n ah ever need your help, AH will ask for it!," he spat at them. Then he grinned, "Y'all DON'T come back now, ya hear?"

The federal agents skulk back into their cars and drive off as the deputies laugh.

Finally, the sheriff turns to me. "Nahw boy. Haven't we a-been through this enough? Have you forgotten the soprano strike of 2002? D'ya really want to go through this agin, but with the altos? I know that when that muse comes a-knocking its hard not to let her in, but, boy, you have to excercise some more of what your St. Thomas calls, "pru-DEN-ti-a." Especially when it comes to the womenfolk."

"ESPECIALLY when it comes to the womenfolk," he repeats solemnly.

Looking down at my shoes shamefacedly, I shake my head affirmatively. "Yes sir, of course, sir."

"But ah likes you boy," he says touching my shoulder, "so that is whahy ah am gonna let you off with anotha warnin'." Pausing, he looks at me and says, "Yo sure have some talent, though. Ah love them doggie stories! You keep a-writin' them there doggie stories!"

He playfully wags a finger at me and says, "but ah'll be a-watchin' you, boy," and then a big wink to make sure I know its not too serious, "ah'll be a-watchin' you!"

I wait until the Front Royal police all drive off and then stand, alone, on Main Street. Breathing in the night air, I think about how glad I am to be alive, and out of trouble, I say a brief prayer:

"Thank God for altos - oh, and sopranos, too!"

Western Art Music

2008-09-18T01:00:00.004-04:00

Here are five characteristics of Western Art Music:

1)COMPOSER-CONTROLLED: in most societies, the performer is the 'final filter' through which the music passes. In Western art music, although this is true 'de facto' - and there certainly are different schools of interpretation - nonetheless, 'de jure' the composer exerts an awful lot of control over the final product via extensive written "regulations." This brings us to the next characteristic:

2)ELABORATE NOTATIONAL SYSTEM: the most elaborate music notation system known to mankind. According to the Grove's musical dictionary, Western notation "is a complex multiple hybrid system with very low redundancy, partly technical and tablature-like, partly representational." While not perfect, it allows a single individual (the composer) to communicate in incredible detail exactly how he wants his piece to sound. I wish to stress the extent to which this is something new in human history.

3)AUGENMUSIK: the German for "music of the eye," this is a difficult concept for some people to understand. I will say that it wouldn't be possible if characteristics #1 and #2 weren't there. It is the organization present in a substantial minority of Western compositions which is primarily-to-exclusively evident to the eye (i.e. in the notation). This organization is barely audible-to-inaudible - which is what trips most people up. "Aren't you supposed to HEAR music?" Well, yes, but this says something about Western music - this hidden means of organization which is seen as a challenge to composers (#1) who build this into the elaborate notational system (#2). Some examples would be: Ockeghem's Missa Prolationem and Machaut's
Ma fin e mon commencment.

4)HARMONIC PROGRESSION: The notion that a melody will have an accompanying chord progression is something new in human history, too. It emerges from Western counterpoint, which rather uniquely decides to organize the vertical alignments of notes (punctus contra punctum - point counter point) into particular harmonies. The notion of a chord progression is less than 1000 years old.

5)RAPID STYLISTIC CHANGE: Western "classical" music has actually gone through many different periods. The so-called Classical period (Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven) didn't last a full 100 years.

Umbrellas of Cherbourg

2008-09-17T01:00:00.008-04:00

Another interesting movie is Jacques Demy's 1964 "Umbrellas of Cherbourg." I had no idea what the title was about when I first heard it. I thought it must be something symbolic. However, it just refers to the fact that one of the main characters lives and works in an umbrella shop in the port city of Cherbourg, France with her widowed mother.

I suppose it might tie into the fact that umbrellas were then already being made in many different and bright colors. Not only do the mother and daughter sell such umbrellas, but the movie uses as its color scheme for clothing, wall paper and other things all of these wildly bright pinks, blues, purples, yellows, greens, etc. It is a harmlessly strange, technicolor fantasy world - a kind of homage to an old Hollywood meets just pre-Hippie early to mid-sixties when bright colors were starting to come in. (This is in contrast to the movie that Demy made just before, "Lola," which starred the famous European actress Anouk Amee and is referred to in this movie. "Lola" was in stark black and white.) The color on the original copies had faded, but Demy had saved negatives (I think for the three different primary colors) and the movie in all of its bright colors was restored by the Koch Lorber laboratories sometime in the 90's.

Far more interesting to me is that every line of the movie is sung. It is a modern opera. Demy employed the then still fairly unknown Michel Legrand who went on to compose such famous emotive hits as "Windmills of Your Mind" and "What Are You Doing for the Rest of Your Life?" There are two famous hit songs out of this movie: "(If It Takes Forever) I Will Wait for You" and "See What Happens." Legrand shows that he is more than just a tunesmith as he composes the music "in between" the hit songs, what would be called the "recitative" in an opera. Actually, I find this music to be more interesting as Legrand gets into some more sophisticated jazz and Latin styles and handles them rather deftly. This music is not so over-the-top emotionally.

A very interesting thing is that, even though the music can be heard as divided into recitative and aria - as in a traditional opera - the text isn't written that way. Not only are there all sorts of trivial lines like "the engine doesn't knock anymore except when it is cold," and "do you want super or regular?" (something which you might expect in a recitative section) the aria (song) texts are like that as well. Moreover, the song texts aren't strophic with a repeated number of syllables per verse with rhyme. The composer has to sometimes cram all sorts of syllables into the melody the second time around to get things to fit. It works, basically, but in a very unconventional way. The English versions of these songs that we know are very loose translations which capture the basic mood but which are cast in a much more conventional poetic form.

Anyway, I won't say much about the plot except that, modern opera or not, like most operas it is an excuse for the music. The libretto is so-so and a very sentimental tear-jerker, the plot is very poorly developed in places. It is basically about two young people who think they are in love and do something very dumb to mess up their lives. They end up marrying other people anyway, so it was pointless - except now they have something between them, even though they have nothing more between them. (If you can figure that out!) The movie ends with a very bitter chance meeting between the two of them when the young man finally gets to see his illegitimate daughter.

Watch it for the pretty colors and music, and a young Catherine Deneuve playing Genevieve.

Cockney Expressions

2008-09-16T01:00:00.005-04:00

From my trip to London and English movies I have seen:

'ere (here) - used to begin almost every sentence.

'ello (hello) - obviously a greeting, but used more for surprise or in a slightly leering fashion.

mumsie

milkified

bird

bloke

geezer - just means "man," not "old man," as in North America.

clobber - raincoat

me - often substituted for 'my.'

proper - it means the same thing as in America, they just use it more often where we would use other words (correct, real, etc.)

playing a fiddle - stealing money or supplies systematically from an employer.

cloth ears - used for someone who isn't listening.

bleedin' - an overused intesifying adjective that is not used in polite society, but I am not sure if it is a swear word or just 'common' - or somewhat in between.

[plus a whole bunch of other expressions I can't repeat]

More on Different Types of Singing

2008-09-15T01:00:00.005-04:00

In David Wulstan's Book, "Tudor Music," there is a chapter entitled "A High Clear Voice" dealing with the main two schools of voice production which I referred to in my post "Ah, Professional Rivalries." Wulstan speaks of the "cavernous and chinless gape seen on the operatic stage, associated with a consistently lowered tongue and retracted jaw (one might also add a lowered larynx)." He speaks of some pictures taken of the opera singer Enrico Caruso "taken in the act of singing each of the five cardinal vowels [as] peculiarly comical, ranging from an impression of a splenetic mafioso to that of a canvassing politician about to engage in statuatory baby-kissing. They unwittingly illustrate the 'uncomely gape of the mouth' disliked by Ornithoparcus and Finck. The Renaissance singer made the vowels with the tongue as in speech; the late nineteenth century, however, subverted natural methods by attempting to make the vowels with the mouth in order to keep the tongue low and static. It was Garcia (1840) who advocated the new technique which had come from the Parisian Opera a few years earlier and was called the voix sombree. The flattened tongue, withdrawn jaw and low position of the larynx, together with a consequent high breath pressure, fitted in with the Romantic ideal of eveness of loud tone. . . . this is in contrast with the classical low-pressure, which generated lower energy sounds having a high-frequency-emphasized harmonic content. The Romantic voice production was not espoused by all, for the old method of production survived with tenancity in certain places, and not only in English cathedral choirs. The agility displayed by Jenny Lind, for example, came from a higher and freer position of the larynx."

Uzi - Super Schola Dog

2008-09-12T01:00:00.029-04:00

Uzi's supersonic ears perk up as he hears the faint sound of a guitar twanging in a Catholic church somewhere. Not an uncommon sound. In fact, it is about as common as styrofoam in a McDonald's wastebasket, but this time it is different. It is accompanied by the cry of distress of Sweet Polly Purebred. [Polly is the representative of all that is pure and noble, sweet and innocent, faithful and true about the Christendom College soprano section. (Not that there's anything wrong with the altos!)] She is in distress because - she is being forced to sit through a guitar Mass!

Immediately Uzi takes off, flying on his own power, and locking into the sound of Polly's cry he follows it like a laser beam to its source. He finds the miscreants (2 of them), strumming away, and proceeds to deliver several well placed jujitsu blows, afterwards breaking the guitars over their heads. But being the soul of charity that he is, his job being done, he picks them up, dusts them off, shakes their hands and then sends them each off with a copy of the "Parish Book of Chant" personally autographed by Jeffrey Tucker.

He then proceeds to sing the remaining propers and lead the congregation in a rousing rendition of Chant Mass X (Alme Pater). The monsignori and ministri beam.

"Why, thank you kind sir," gushes Polly. "How can I ever repay you?" Normally Uzi would accept no reward for doing his duty, but this time something strange happens. An eerie light shines on his countenance and a smirk plays at the corner of his lips while we hear our heroic hound say, "Well darlin', how about a big keeeees." (Oh, no! Do we detect the maleficent influence of that corny canine, that palavering parvenu, that obstreperous occidental, "Texas Schola Dawg"?)

"Well, I mean . . . but you see . . . umm . . . uh," stammers our heroine. Drops of sweat trickle down her back, as our plucky Polly tries to extricate herself from this one. You see, Uzi is still young and impressionable, basically a good lad, but obviously under the influence of her archnemesis, Texas Schola Dawg - as Polly sees all too clearly! Can she deflect him gently, while not devastating our young superhero whose powers are so vital to humanity?

Let's see just how resourceful our girl is.

"I suppose you've kissed all of the sopranos, just like Texas Schola Dawg?," Polly began. "Well, uh, he SAYS he has and I . . . uh . . . are you implying there's something wrong with the altos?" he countered. "Well, of course not, just follow me on this one," continued Polly. "If I were to kiss you, than I would be just like all of the other sopranos to you," - "and altos," he added - "and altos," she continued somewhat grudgingly, "and thus I wouldn't be special to you anymore. And that's very important to a girl," she said flipping her hair ever so slightly.

Uzi arched an inner eyebrow. "I guess I never thought of it that way."

Warming to her point, Polly continued, "so you see, the less physical contact we have, in fact, the less we see of each other, the more special I will be to you."

"Uh . . . OK . . .," he said slowly, like a Thomist trying to follow a Phenomenologist's argument. "I think I . . . uh . . . see your point . . ."

Not knowing when to stop, our Polly tried to continue with this train of thought - not quite realizing that, due to a strike by the United Brotherhood of Railroad Switchers and Tracklayers Union, Local #547, the track was to run out soon.

"You are like my knight in shining armor and I am one of those damsels for whom you joust and slay dragons." "You see, you devote yourself to me and do all these things for me, but, at most, you might occasionally catch a glimpse of me in a parapet of a castle. I get to wear all sorts of cool clothes and, frankly, I would be marrying someone else."

"Marrying someone else?" he queried.

"I mean, I would be . . . uh . . . burying . . . uh . . . someone's belts. Yeah, that's it!" she said, realizing she had gone too far.

"Burying someone's belts?"

"It's one of the corporal acts of mercy," she said, thinking fast. "You know, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, bury the dead, bury their . . . (gulp) . . . belts . . ."

"Really?"

"Didn't you have that in Doctrine?"

"Uh, I don't remember. I must have been absent that day."

"Well, it was an old Medieval custom for ladies of the manor to perform this work of mercy." she explained. "It's making a come back. There's an article in the Remnant about it."

Polly felt pretty stupid, but Uzi seemed to accept this. He may be strong and able to fly around but when it comes to grey matter . . . let's just say that he was the first student from Christendom allowed to graduate with a double major in liturgical music and fashion design - with much of the core curriculum waived.

Uzi caught sight of his stunning blue cape and bright red booties and was pleasantly distracted. "Oh, I think I hear another distress call, I must be going."

"Oh, so soon?" said Polly. "Well, of course, duty calls." She watched him fly off.

What will become of Uzi? Will he continue on his course, straight and true? Will Texas Schola Dawg try to continue drawing him into the dark side? Will Polly learn when to stop her verbal fantasias? Will the altos ever get a story of their own? - because there's nothing wrong with them!

For answers to these and other questions. Tune into this station. Same time, next week for another episode of "Uzi - Super Schola Dog."

Charismatics, Cholerics, and Contemporary Liturgy

2008-09-11T01:00:00.002-04:00

One of the many problems with the loss of a sense of ritual and the insertion of "spontaneity" (even the insertion of "options") into a liturgy is that it doesn't unite people - it divides them. I have always thought that Tevye's understanding of tradition (at least in the sense of "custom") was on the mark. "We do it this way, well . . . because this is the way we have always done it!" Not that there can't be bad customs that need to be changed, but, as Thomas said with law, it is perilous to change something unless there is a very good reason for the change - the good brought by the change has to outweigh the bad effects (many of which are not realized until the change is made.)

However, we live in a society which puts a premium on change and revels in individual choice. This may have its merits, but when it comes to a common ritual that an entire community needs to embrace this can be problematic.

We do not have this practical problem at my college, but I do encounter Catholics who will argue that there should be different liturgies to suit, not only different consituencies, but different personalities. "Well, I'm an outgoing person and need a more contemporary liturgy, etc." I get that with some charismatics (although frankly not all charismatics are cholerics, some are deeply wounded melancholics who have found an outlet for emotional release in charismatic doings.)

As Chesterton said, "tradition involves submitting to the great senate of the dead." A variation on Tevye, it is "we do it this way because our fathers and forefathers did it this way - they have us outvoted." And that is the sense of a community reaching through time and a common ritual that clearly expresses ALL of us - the Mystical Body of Christ reaching out through time and "space." (the Church through the generations AND the Church militant, suffering and triumphant.)

In other ages, choleric people with bad taste would have gone to a quick low Mass - or with better taste would have sung in the choir (because they are so outgoing) and then would have gone about their choleric doings. However, there would have been no sense that they were participating in anything other than the ritual of the Mass common to all (Roman Rite) Catholics.

Now they have their own symbol, and that is problematic.

Another thing Bugnini didn't consider.

Upcoming Lecture

2008-09-10T01:00:00.000-04:00

Sad News

2008-09-09T01:00:00.005-04:00

I found out that yesterday our previous athletic director, Mr. Tom Vanderwoude, died while saving his adult Downs Syndrome son from drowning. The son whom I had seen many times on campus, who seemed to be in his early twenties, had fallen into the family septic tank. He was rescued by the dad, but for some reason, Mr. Vanderwoude didn't make it.

I didn't know Mr. Vanderwoude very well, but he was always nice and friendly to me. I would have put him somewhere in his late 60's-early 70's. He had a personality somewhat like my father's. He had a big family. Another of his sons is a priest, and still another one, Chris, took over for him last year as athletic director for the college.

As I find out more I will relay it. Please pray for the repose of his soul and for the consolation of his family.
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A little bit more information: http://www.christendom.edu/news/releases.shtml#vw
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Another thing I did not blog about initially, because I wasn't sure of the outcome, was that my uncle Ray (my middle name's sake) for some reason had a spell when he was in the bath on Saturday night and couldn't get out. When he didn't show up at Sunday Mass people worried, but when his neighbors didn't see him around for several days, they got the fire department to break down the door. He was taken to the hospital with pneumonia, starvation/hydration, and, I think, some sort of cardiac irregularity. (He was in the tub semi-to-unconscious for three days.) He was quite delirious. He has made a rather remarkable recovery, and does not seem to have had a stroke or heart attack. In fact, they are not quite sure what the problem was. In fact he is so much better that he is complaining about various things at the hospital - always a good sign, and seems to be more his old self. He is not yet completely better as he has to have a feeding tube, but I am told that this is not a bad sign. It probably will be only temporary.

Please keep him in your prayers as well.

Alfie

2008-09-08T01:00:00.013-04:00

I have for some time been a fan of the original movie version of Alfie - the version with a young Michael Caine which was made in 1966. It was a play originally. There has been an updated version which was made a few years ago with the actor Jude Law. I have not seen it yet for a number of reasons.

This is a movie which is definitely NOT "high art," but it is a well crafted moral tale. Yes, a moral tale - always a dangerous thing to do. It is walking a tight rope to do something like this without it becoming "preachy," but I think the director Lewis Gilbert pulls it off well. There is also a decent jazz score by Sonny Rollins and then, at the very end of the movie, the famous Burt Bacharach song "What's it all about, Alfie?" sung by a then very young Cher (still of Sonny and Cher).

Much of the movie is carried, though, by Michael Caine who does a superb acting job. He plays a thirtyish cockney Lothario who is really quite bad. He uses and throws women away (including married women) like it's going out of style - and the women quite foolishly fall for him and pine the loss of him. They can't get enough of him. He is so darn charming, though (and I say this as a man). He's not quite what the British called a "teddy boy," but he's roughly of the same era and definitely a bit of a dandy.

However, it is basically the story of a very self-centered man who is mercifully given an opportunity to change through some very intense suffering.

Just to touch on a few highlights, he gets this young woman, Gilda, pregnant and she has the child, a boy. She names him "Malcolm." He actually keeps in touch with her and the child and he grows rather fond of the boy. There is another man, Humphrey, who is very much in love with her, but she will have little to do with him. He is a very plain looking man - not ugly - but very plain in his looks and personality. Nonetheless, he is very taken with her. She clearly is waiting around hoping that Alfie will marry her and fully take up his responsibilities as father of the child. This goes on for 3-5 years! (I can't quite tell exactly how old the boy is.) Ultimately she starts taking Humphrey more seriously and, when Alfie makes it clear he has no interest in marrying her, she agrees to marry Humphrey.

Finally, she made the right choice. If she wants real love, she's going to get it from Humphrey rather than Alfie.

Alfie goes away, but - though he has no problem moving on to other women (he already had done this romantically) - it really bugs him that he can no longer see his child. This is something new to him. A crack in his armor. He talks about this to his other "girlfriends," and to the audience. (A feature of the movie is that he will ignore theatrical convention and talk to the audience.) He says, "now you can replace a bird, but a child is each one unique." (He also will refer to a woman as "it," but not the child.)

Later, toward the end of the movie, he gets the wife of a friend pregnant. He procures an abortion for her which is performed in his apartment. (Apparently she is given an injection which kills the fetus and then she has to wait to give birth.) She tells him to leave after she is given the shot by this very creepy abortion doctor. Abortion was still illegal - at least after 3 months - in England at that time so that's why it had to be so clandestine (i.e. at his apartment). He goes out for a walk and sees Malcolm, his son, running out of a church. Then he sees Humphrey, now his legal father, come out and playfully scoop him up and take him back into the church. Alfie can't stand this and goes in to see what is going on. From the back of the church he sees that Humphrey and Gilda (now husband and wife) have had a baby and are having him baptized. Thus one child is being born into eternal life while another was being snuffed out. Alfie watches this new family leave the church (clearly with grandparents, relatives, friends, etc.) very happy while he skulks behind a pillar. He is very hurt by this. Another chink in his armor.

After this he goes back to his apartment to find the dead fetus - his son. In a very good piece of acting - and with the camera exclusively on his face - he picks up the dead child and tears fill his eyes. He runs out crying and goes for a walk with a male friend. Later he says to the friend, "I guess I killed him." (i.e. the boy) Alfie moves on to an older woman named Ruby with whom he had already started to have an affair. She is played by Shelly Winters. I suppose she is a forty-something very experienced, blowsy, cut-rate Mae West. He likes her because, as he says, "the young birds are always talking about love, but she never does. She knows what she wants and she's going to get it." Don't let this fool you as he also talks to the audience about how he is thinking of settling down with her. He is looking for some sort of stability in his life.

Ruby had given him a key to her apartment very foolishly, and he walks in on her unexpectedly when she is with a young rock guitarist. During the confrontation he asks her, "so what's he got that I don't have?" She says, "he's younger than you, Alfie. You get it?!" Another big crack in his armor. Alfie gets his comeuppance. He finally is used by an older, more experienced woman, the way he has been using women younger than himself.

The movie ends with his famous, "What's it all about?" monologue delivered near the Thames. (I tried to find the spot when I was in London this Summer, but didn't succeed.) Afterward he is approached by a little dog whom he had shooed away at the very beginning of the movie. He walks off with the dog - this once very popular ladies' man - now reduced to having this stray mutt as his only willing companion. It is a very cutesy ending but, well, I can put up with it.

So the movie ends with a man who - against his own will - is given the gift of an opening to grace. This opening was brought on by his own bad behavior. He was allowed to suffer the hammer blows of fate - the result of his own choices - and thus have an opening made in the thick shell of his ego. It is a profoundly religious movie without in any way being overtly so - kind of like a Flannery O'Connor short story. The movie ends with him yet to make a choice, not because it is "modernistically ambiguous," but because the movie is the story of a particular sort of fallen soul and how God tries to reach such people. That is the point. It is up to them to decide. Some say "yay," some say "nay." Free will.

The Purpose of Clothing

2008-09-05T01:00:00.000-04:00

As I start my tenth year at Christendom College, one of the things the stricter dress code has taught me is that the purpose of clothing, aside from covering nakedness, is charity - not feeling comfortable - but charity to others. Have you ever seen a middle-aged over weight man in shorts and a T-shirt? Ugh. Put that same man in something more formal (it doesn't have to be a three-piece suit) and it makes a big difference. I am not yet proposing anything specific that we should wear except to say, in general, that it should be 'nice,' pleasant to look at. We used to know that - and not too long ago. Now the emphasis is on 'comfort.' Well, the over weight guy probably feels very comfortable but he is very unpleasant for the rest of us to look at.

Now before anyone comes at me with how uncomfortable clothing used to be in the "bad old days," I will concede the point. Very formal attire can be very uncomfortable at times. (I had a female friend tell me how, quite unexpectedly, she recently had to walk a long distance in 4 inch heels. The result was a terrible open sore on her foot.) I am not insisting that women always have to wear heels or that men always have to wear ties. What I am speaking against is the sans-culotte look of the past 30 years or so, whereby it is considered normal for adults to walk around in public in T-shirts and jeans.

Sorry, I just think it's a bad idea. We owe each other something more. Something more beautiful. Something more adult - and the homeliest and plainest of people can look decent, presentable - even aesthetically pleasing - when they wear nice clothes. And let's face it, even the basic "covering of nakedness" part of clothing is not to prevent sins against chastity, for the bulk of humanity it is to prevent a sin against aesthetics.

At least that is what I hear the situation is like in nudist colonies.

Julia Austin Choral Conducting Recital

2008-09-04T01:00:00.002-04:00

I will be singing in the choir for Julia Austin's master's choral conducting recital which will be this Friday (Sept. 5) at 8:00 PM in St. Vincent chapel on the campus of Catholic University of America in Washington DC. Among other things we will be performing J.S. Bach's LOBET DEN HERRN, Haydn's ABENDLIED ZU GOTT, Britten's HYMN OF THE VIRGIN, and Faure's REQUIEM. It is a good group of CUA music students and a few of us Front Royalians who knew Julia when she was music director in the local parish.

If anyone is in the area, you are more than welcome to come.

Anthony Smitha Dream Blog Parody

2008-09-03T01:00:00.008-04:00

OK, here goes: So I (Kurt) am on my trip to London and the plane is landing at Heathrow, but there is something very dark and grainy about the feel of it - almost like a newsreel. It doesn't look like London 2008, but rather like Berlin 1938. All of the sudden I find myself at this massive Nazi rally, but find out that Hitler is feeling under the weather. They ask me if I will fill in for him, but I decline because my German is not that good. All of the sudden this guy starts pushing his way through the crowd saying, "I'll do it! I'll do it!" (in English!) It turns out to be Anthony. Surprisingly, they let him do it - although Himmler expresses some concern that Anthony will try to flirt with Eva Braun. Anthony walks up to the podium looking and dressed, well . . . exactly like Anthony, but then proceeds to give a rousing address in perfect German with all of Hitler's mannerism's down pat. The audience goes wild.

Sure enough, later in the evening, I see Anthony sidling up to Eva Braun on a bench. Tapping his cheek closest to her he says, "Gibst du mir ein Kuss?"

Then all of the sudden I am in Michael Collin's car and he is driving me home from Dulles Airport. When we get to where I live, the house is gone. There clearly was a big explosion and Draper is riding his tricycle around what is left of the foundation. When I ask Michael what happened he says, "didn't you know that Anthony was working counter intelligence for the US government? He infiltrated the Third Reich and uncovered a German spy ring in America. Your landlord was a German spy, so, of course, they had to blow his house up."

When I ask about the steps to my apartment that my landlord had started constructing Michael says, "Oh, well, they laid down this special tarp before they blew up the house so that the steps would be protected. That way, when he gets out of prison in 99 years, he won't have to start from scratch to finish your steps . . ."

Ah, Professional Rivalries

2008-09-02T01:00:00.003-04:00

I had a student audition who had a very good classically trained voice. Why she auditioned I don't know because after singing a stunningly good audition (and after I mentioned that she would have to tone down the vibrato and chest voice a bit for our choir) she said that her voice teacher back home said she shouldn't sing straight tone because that would "ruin her voice." I pointed out how it is good to be flexible, how I go back and forth between the two with no problem, and how Marilyn Horne started out singing Renaissance polyphony before she went on to become a famous opera singer - but to no avail. Her past two voice teachers said that this sort of singing would "mess up her voice," so, well, she would have to give it a year and think about it.

Fine. But, really, this is ridiculous. I know of such vocal teachers who want to lock students into a particular form of singing - the hard-toned, chest voice with the big vibrato. And then, this is all they can sing. And on the off chance that they have any sort of career in opera, let alone become famous, this is the only way they will be able to sing. So when they decide to be "diverse" and put out a "jazz album" or selection of "popular tunes" they end up sounding ridiculous with what has turned into an uncontrollable Brunhilda voice.

A straight jacket. (or iron corset?) Poor girl. She's caught in the middle of a professional rivalry between two camps: the "Early Music Straight Toners" and the "Operatic Chest Thumpers." Even though I do mostly "early music" for a living I fall more in the middle. It is a series of gradations. You need to develop chest voice AND head voice and learn how to mix them and move back and forth.

Anyway, I don't want this to happen to any of my voice students.

From a Talk to Incoming Freshmen

2008-09-01T01:00:00.000-04:00

Let me start off with a story. Shortly after World War II, two trains pulled up at a station along the French/German border. The hostilities between the two countries had, of course, been intense, with much suffering, pain and death. Out of one train came Frenchmen, and out of the other, Germans. When they recognized each other, both groups stopped–no, they froze–staring at each other, in bitter, stone silence. You could cut the tension with a knife. Suddenly, someone intoned Credo III – and everyone joined in. The tension was relieved, hardened hearts were softened, and why?—because they were reminded that deep down, they were brothers, brothers in Christ. They were not just German or French, they were Catholics.

Now, would the same thing have happened had they merely recited the Creed? Maybe, but I don’t think so. The reason is that we live by symbols—artistic symbols, whether liturgical or non-liturgical, whether high art or popular art. Music, painting, literature, these things sum up who we are, what we believe, and what we think life is all about. This may seem strange that I am saying this at an institution of higher learning, a liberal arts college, where the focus is understandably on rational thought and intelligent discourse about ideas. These “left-brained” things are extremely important and that is why we study ideas and logic, however, it is in the “right-brain” that most people live their lives. The recitation of a creed and the doctrines involved, though extremely important, will generally not move someone to tears. But to sing a creed (or any other prayer), ah, that’s different—and that is why an artistic symbol (music in this case) is extremely important.

As St. Augustine said, it was through sacred music that “truth filtered into my heart and from my heart surged waves of devotion.”

Tradition and Traditionalists

2008-08-29T01:00:00.005-04:00

I have decided that when someone asks me how I stand on "la question liturgique" - as opposed to just assuming, which I think many people do - I will say that, "I love liturgical tradition while I have trouble, at times, with self-identified 'traditional-ISTS.'" That is, I have problems with some of the personal attitudes and narrowness of vision, the frankly cultish tendencies of some who have chosen the Tridentine Mass as their banner. And frankly, I don't think some of them have anywhere near the appreciation for the very thing which they claim defines them. My yardstick is that, if I had to choose between a Tridentine Low Mass (esp. with only the server doing the responses) and a Novus Ordo Latin Mass celebrated ad orientem with incense, a complement of servers, chant, polyphony, etc., I would definitely choose the latter. The second follows the spirit of liturgical tradition far better. (I am not saying that you can't criticise specific prayers/features of the 1970 Missal. Neither am I saying that there weren't serious problems with the liturgical reform. I am just trying to make the basic point that the solemn sung Mass is the liturgical ideal.)

Of course, most people do not have these two things to choose between. Still, since I have been in this ideal situation I can get closer to the truth of the matter.

However, having criticized traditionalists, I will not let the neo-Catholics off the hook - or at least some of them who think that the Extraordinary usage will go away if they grit their teeth hard enough. What I say to them is, "as long as you insist on quarentining something, you are guaranteeing it will be associated with sick people." The whole point of Summorum Pontificum was to acknowledge that it is wrong to treat something considered holy for centuries as if it were all of the sudden bad - rather than what it should be, revered. You are undermining the Pope's intentions. The Extraordinary usage is a legitimate, normal liturgy of the Church - it belongs to ALL Catholics (not just Catholic's whose belts are tied a little too tightly) - so get to work and start forming 'ordinary' catholics in it.

Beautifying the Ugly

2008-08-28T01:00:00.002-04:00

In Walker Percy's first novel, The Moviegoer, the lead female character, who has psychological/emotional problems, utters a line like, "I wish I could have a nervous breakdown like those people in the movies." The point being, nervous breakdowns and other such things are not at all "aesthetic" experiences. They are painful and ugly, but in order to render them artistically they have to be in some way cleaned up, made more presentable. Yet, by doing so, they are falsified, at least to some degree. The solution of modern art/music/drama/etc. has been to develop a repertoire of truly ugly sounds, images, techniques which do more vividly portray these things. The reaction of the general public (at least it used to be) is to say, "well, that's not art." I used to be unsympathetic, but I think that they are correct in that it is certainly not classic Western art which insists on a certain level of beauty.

This is a subject that needs more exploration. Any ideas?

More on Listening to Music

2008-08-27T01:00:00.002-04:00

I had discussed Theodor Adorno's "types of musical conduct" in regard to listening to music. It is very useful, but a bit more of a sociological analysis than some might want. I recently came across another, simpler, approach which sheds light on the way in which people listen to music in a book entitled "Thinking about Music" by Lewis Rowell. It is a very good summary. He discusses three ways of listening to music:

1) The first approach identified by Leonard Meyer as "associative listening." According to Meyer:

"Often music arouses affect through the mediation of conscious connotation or unconscious image processes. A sight, a sound or a fragrance evokes half-forgotten thoughts of persons, places, and experiences; stirs up dreams 'mixing memory with desire;' or awakens conscious connotations of referential things. These imaginings, whether conscious or unconscious, are the stimuli to which the affective response is really made. In short, music may give rise to images and trains of thought which, because of their relation to the inner life of the particular individual, may eventually culminate in affect."

This is basically Adorno's "emotional listener." Music is seen exclusively as a stimulus to reverie and affect. It is the least sophisticated approach to listening to music. I used to listen to music this way when I was a teenager.

The next two approaches were named by Edward Cone:

2) "Synoptic listening" is a name for what Adorno calls the "expert listener." "Synoptic" means "side by side," so it refers to the ability to hear individual moments and put them together "side by side" in the mind into a whole. It is another name for "structural hearing." This is something that requires a fair amount of training and experience.

3) "Immediate Apprehension" is [t]he mode by which we directly perceive the sensuous medium, its primitive elements, and their closest relationships." It is what most people are capable of - hearing a theme or melody. The relationship between immediate apprehension and synoptic listening is analogous to that between "experience and contemplation" according to Edward Cone.

So, to summarize, "immediate apprehension" combined with "synoptic listening" is the ideal, while "associative listening" alone is the least sophisticated.

Topaz: More Bravura Moments

2008-08-26T01:00:00.007-04:00

To continue with the theme from my previous post, there are two more scenes of some significance in which Hitchcock cuts out dialogue altogether - or at least our ability to hear it. Both involve the black actor Roscoe Lee Brown who is on our right in the picture. He had a very rich, baritone voice and had trained as a Shakespearean actor so he was often called upon to play a certain sort of urbane, upper class black man. (I remember him from television shows like "All in the Family" and "Sanford and Son" from the 70's when he was often used as a comic foil. Sadly he passed away last year at the age of 81.) Anyway, in Topaz he plays a florist shop owner in Harlem who originally is from the isle of Martinique. Remember, the movie takes place around the time of the Cuban missile crisis in October of 1962 and that shortly before that Castro and his delegation had been to New York for a session of the United Nations. In order to show their "solidarity" with the oppressed classes of 'capitalist America' they deliberately chose a hotel in Harlem. This black florist, however, works as a spy and is approached to try to infiltrate the hotel and take pictures of some important documents one of the Cuban officials has. These documents confirm that the Russians have sent missiles to Cuba - something which had been suspected.

The first scene is when a French agent, on behalf of the Americans, approaches this florist to do the job. Because the shop is open and people are all around, Roscoe Lee Brown takes the French agent into that glass enclosed refrigerated area that most all florist shops have (yes, ladies, I actually have been in a number of florist shops). So we see their conversation, all of the hand gestures and facial expressions, but don't hear a thing. We don't need to. We know basically what is being said. Is this a stylization - a bravura moment? Yes, I think so, but we are also forced to focus on the visual and let that reveal to us how the characters interact.

The second scene is when Roscoe Lee Brown goes to the Harlem hotel to bribe the Cuban official. They have information that he has accepted bribes in the past. The French agent watches from across the street and we become his eyes. We can see easily into the lobby of the hotel because it is completely glass enclosed. The Cuban official comes down into the lobby and we can see immediately that he is a morally weak man by the way he moves - hesitant and indecisive. The actor played his part very well with his body language. First he refuses, but we see Roscoe Lee Brown confidantly tap his breast pocket where the money is and the official agrees. Temptation - weakness - minor resistance - one more habitual failure of the will.

The fallen human condition. Excellent acting.

Anyway, I highly recommend the movie if you like spy thrillers. There are a few somewhat steamy romantic scenes, although not as bad as North by Northwest and nothing like what you would see in a movie today. It is second tier Hitchcock, but that still is quite good.

Topaz: An Example of What I Mean

2008-08-25T01:00:00.010-04:00

My preference for films which involve a skillful manipulation of visual imagery is exemplified in another one of Alfred Hitchcock's movies, Topaz. Topaz was released in 1969 and was based on a Leon Uris novel of the same name about the Cuban Missle crisis. The picture I have included is the famous one of the beautiful Cuban spy who is shot and whose dress unfurls as she falls. (This still is from the very end of her fall so, of course, it does not convey what I am talking about very well. Frankly no 'still' would convey it.) It is a memorable scene which virtually every movie reviewer points out. It is, in a sense, like a flower opening (she is beautiful in life, beautiful in death), however, more obviously, it is a stylization of a pool of blood forming. It is quintessential Hitchcock in that he is working within the confines of the structure of the "American movie" of the time but includes moments of European 'artsiness' (Kind of like Haydn and Mozart using the sometimes overly cutesy and transient 'style galant' material of the time, but doing things with it that transcend the genre?) Leonard Maltin called this a "bravura moment" - "it's artistic, poetic, flamboyant, yet it works . . . it is the work of a master."

I agree.

However, what I really want to speak about is the opening sequence - the first ten minutes. There is virtually no dialogue. The only speaking is: 1) a tour guide speaking at the figurine factory (this is PURE background), 2) the Russian father asking for directions to the figurine factory (very unimportant), 3) the Russian teenage daughter phoning the American Embassy from the figurine factory office to ask where they should be to be picked up when they defect (more important - but not as much as it may seem). The whole focus is on the Russian family evading the KGB agents, first at the figurine factory, and then outside the department store. Two sounds, however, are important. The first is the dropping of the porcelain figurine by the daughter so she will be taken to the office (outside of the view of the KGB agent) from where she makes the brief phone call. It is preceded by 30 seconds of almost total silence and I cannot stress how much this is a climax. The second is at the very end of the sequence when they finally escape in the car with the Americans. The daughter cries in her mother's arms partly out of physical pain (she had run into a bicycler while they were escaping and had fallen, painfully scraping her knees), partly out of emotional anguish (the whole painful ordeal of the defection seems to be finally over.)

So two sounds - the sound of porcelain breaking and the sound of a girl crying - are key to the first ten minutes. Everything is conveyed by the visuals and by these sounds. Dialogue is unimportant.

There are two other scenes in which there is a total 'black out' of the dialogue in this movie (a black out of the original scripted dialogue, I believe) - more stylized "bravura moments" which I shall blog on later.

It Doesn't Translate

2008-08-22T01:00:00.002-04:00

I recalled from my European trip a brief exchange I had with one of the Hungarians that was amusing. I should preface this by saying that in German when you say, "Danke schoen," the other person replies, "Bitte schoen." Sometimes you just say, "Danke," and they say, "Bitte." A few times I heard someone say, "Danke" and the reply was, "Schoen." It doesn't make sense in English, but that is what they say sometimes. One of the Hungarians, who spoke German well but not English very well, was offering everyone a piece of some candy she had bought. When I said, "Thank you," in English she replied in English, "pretty!"

Maritain: Art and Scholasticism

2008-08-21T01:00:00.002-04:00

I just picked up the book and found a very moving passage:

"The Middle Ages knew this order. The Renaissance shattered it. After three centuries of infidelity, prodigal Art aspired to become the ultimate end of man, his Bread and his Wine, the consubstantial mirror of beatific Beauty. . . And now the modern world, which had promised the artist everything, soon will scarcely leave him even the bare means of subsistence. Founded on the two unnatural principles of the fecundity of money and the finality of the useful, multiplying needs and servitude without the possibility of there ever being a limit, destroying the leisure of the soul, withdrawing the material factible from the control which proportioned it to the ends of the human being, and imposing on man the panting of the machine and the accelerated movement of matter, the system of "nothing but the earth" is imprinting on human activity a truly inhumane mode and a diabolical direction, for the final end of all this frenzy is to prevent man from resembling God,

dum nil perenne cogitat,
seseque culpis illigat.

Consequently he must, if he is to be logical, treat as useless, and therefore as rejected, all that by any grounds bears the mark of the spirit.

Or it will even be necessary that heroism, truth, virtue, beauty become useful values - the best, the most loyal instruments of propaganda and of control of temporal powers.

Persecuted like the wise man and almost like the saint, the artist will perhaps recognize his brothers at last and discover his true vocation again: for in a way he is not of this world, being, from the moment that he works for beauty, on the path which leads upright souls to God and manifests to them the invisible things by the visible."
---------------------------------
I detect a certain approach to history which is very consonant with the views of our Distributist brethren. I am not saying that I disagree or agree, only that I find the passage very passionate and moving. I think it is worth some reflection and comment.

Latest Humor?

2008-08-20T01:00:00.001-04:00

At a rehearsal this weekend, the guy next to me was saying things like:

"Rhode Island: neither a road nor an island. Discuss."

"Peanut: neither a pea nor a nut. Discuss."

"Chickpea: neither a chick nor a pea. Discuss."

Was this something on SNL, or part of the routine of some comedian?

Evelyn Waugh: Musical Conduct #7?

2008-08-19T01:00:00.003-04:00

I have always wondered whether or not the English Catholic novelist, Evelyn Waugh, suffered from the condition known as "amusia." As I say below, it seems to be a neurological condition which prevents people from assembling music in the brain and making sense of it in the way that even the most amateur of listeners can. What tipped me off was reading an article in which some sufferers of this condition say that they find music "painful." "It sounds like this painful jangling of tones," said one woman. All music sounded that way to her not just, say, Heavy Metal or Schoenberg.

Here are several of the incidents:

Right after World War II, about 1945-46 Evelyn Waugh was at the Sunday High Mass at Westminster Cathedral and the choir (which had continued singing throughout the war and the Blitz) was in the midst of the Gloria. According to an observer Waugh had the most painful expression on his face and then spied a (you guessed it) Jesuit priest go to one of the side altars to say his private Mass. Now I can picture those side altars, as I saw them just a month ago, and the interesting thing is that they face east as well - just like the main altar. They are not up against the side walls, as in a number of old American churches, facing north or south. They are more side "chapels" with oriented altars within them. (This was the case in Munich as well.) Of course he bolted for the side altar and the Jesuit's Mass was probably over before the choir even finished singing the Gloria. Waugh walked away smiling.

Now one could say that the choir was bad - which it certainly wasn't - or that Waugh simply was in a hurry or just preferred low Masses. Possible.

A few years later, in about 1948, Waugh and his wife were in New York on some sort of book tour and they were introduced to the Stravinskys. They had dinner and some very good conversation as Stravinsky was a Catholic convert and a bit of an intellectual himself. Igor then proceded to offer the Waughs free tickets to the New York premiere of his latest work, a concert Mass. Waugh refused saying that they had already booked passage back to England, but then added, "I find all music positively painful."

Finally sometime in the late 1950's, the American Paul Moore was in England and was able to finagle an invitation to visit with his literary idol, Evelyn Waugh. I cannot remember if he wanted to interview him or not. At any rate, Waugh was kind enough to invite him to stay the weekend. At one point Waugh left the house and Moore began playing the family piano. After a few minutes he realized Waugh was just outside a window, glaring in at him. Later that day at dinner Waugh confided to Moore, "I don't like music . . . I despise it."

Does anyone have any further information on this?

Types of Musical Conduct

2008-08-18T01:00:00.021-04:00

In a discussion a few days ago the issue of what sort of music people listen to and the different ways in which people listen to music came up. I remembered a useful article I had read years ago by the philosopher Theodor Adorno entitled "Types of Musical Conduct" which was ultimately published in his book "Introduction to Music Sociology." Now I am not saying that I agree with everything he would say in other venues, Adorno having been a part of the Neo-Marxist Frankfurt School, but I really think he is onto something here.

Adorno identifies seven different types of listener (which is what he means by "musical conduct"). They are:

1) the EXPERT listener - this is someone who is capable of what is called "structural hearing," which is hearing the various musical themes, their permutations, the connective tissue (i.e. episodes, transitions), as well as other elements and devices the composer uses, and gets these "past, present, and future moments to crystallize into a meaningful context." He can put it all together as a Gestalt, rather than as a disconnected series of temporal events. Generally, the expert listener would know the technical names for these things. He knows and appreciates what the composer has done. This is the highest level of listening to music as an art form.

2) the GOOD listener - this is someone who can intuitively appreciate the structural elements in music similar to the way the expert listener does, but isn't fully conscious of these things and usually doesn't know the technical names. He "get's it" as to why a piece of music is great, but when placed on the witness stand wouldn't be able to give anything more than a mediocre explanation of why this is so.

3) the CULTURE CONSUMER listener - this is a person who is sometimes mistaken for one of the first two types. He is a busy beaver collecting objects of musical culture, from recordings to biographical information about composers and his attitude can run the gamut from "an earnest sense of obligation to vulgar snobbery." He is not a good listener. Sometimes he is even a poseur who is class conscious and who holds himself apart from the "great unwashed." However he often would rather talk about the circumstances of the first performance of a piece by Beethoven than actually listen to the piece itself. When he does listen to music "he lies in wait for specific elements, for supposedly beautiful melodies, for grandiose moments."

4) the EMOTIONAL listener - this is the type of person who listens to music for the emotional "zing" it can give him. Such a person would prefer Tchaikowsky (or Rutter) to Bach, and, even more so, popular music to classical music. This is not to deny that music engages the emotions, but this listener focuses on this obvious aspect of music (and often in such an extreme, exaggerated form) that he is like the man who "falls in love with falling in love." The "emotional listener considers music a means to ends pertaining to the economy of his own drives" which are, well, highly emotional. That a piece of music might be an object worthy of serious study in itself and that it would give delight to the mind (even the mind delighting in the subtleties of emotional expression) would be foreign and, perhaps, even offensive to him. He is a naif and a sentimentalist - a rank amateur.

5) the RESENTMENT listener - this listener is probably unknown to most people and that is because he tends to exist within professional musical circles or among other people with a high level of training in music. Basically it involves listening to a piece of music from the standpoint of a very partisan view of how it should be interpreted, and then reacting in an uncharitable fashion when it doesn't follow "the party line." There was once a French visitor at the college Mass who happened to be a chant expert. He engaged me in conversation after Mass with this opening gambit, "Zo, ah hyear you ztill use ze IC-tus." He spat the word "ictus" out with contempt as his lip curled up into a smirk. The point was, I was a benighted ignoramus who wasn't up on the latest methods of chant research and interpretation.

To be fair, I fell into that trap in grad school when we "young Turks" would sometimes scrutinize each other's compositions to see if there was an acceptable level of dissonance - and comment dismissively when there wasn't enough.

6) the ENTERTAINMENT listener - according to Adorno this is "music to talk to" or to do just about anything else to but listen. It can be "Muzak," but not necessarily so. Music is not so much listened to, but is a kind of "sonic wallpaper" which either breaks the monotony of life and/or provides some sort of a badge of tribal loyalty. Adorno describes such a listener thus: "if the culture consumer will turn up his nose at popular music, the entertainment listener's fear is to be ranked too high. He is a self-conscious lowbrow who makes a virtue of his own mediocrity."

7) the UNMUSICAL listener - here Adorno uses the unique German word "amusisch." It is the opposite of "musisch" which literally translates "musical," but has a broader meaning of "cultured." (from "the Muses"). Frankly, I think that Western culture has had a major infection of the "amusisch" virus for centuries, but there are particular people for whom music seems to mean little to nothing. Sometimes it seems to be the result of a neurological problem - as in the condition "amusia" - when a person cannot seem to process musical sounds into a meaningful whole in the brain (in a way that even an emotional or entertainment listener can). At other times these are people who have a high competancy for math and science and other related technical disciplines, but for whom music (and often other arts) mean little to nothing.

In summary, musical conducts 1, 2, 3, and 5 (expert, good, culture consumer, and resentment) would all want to fit into the simpler classification of "cultured listener," even if some would dispute the other's right to belong. Musical conducts 4 and 6 (emotional and entertainment) would fit into the simpler classification "uncultured listener," the entertainment listener (#6) perhaps being proud to be so classified, the emotional listener (#4) blissfully unaware that there are other ways of listening to music ("but isn't music just about feelings . . . my feelings?") Number 7's "musical conduct" is that he is incapable of listening to music in any meaningful way- incapable of making sense of it even in the simple way the emotional (#4) and the entertainment listener (#6) can. So, while he may "hear" music, he is not really a "listener" at all.

I want to stress that these vignettes are deliberate broad-brush characterizations. Not everyone would fit neatly into one of these, people can move from one classification to another, and some people might belong to several of these. Nonetheless, I think that these are useful categories for discussion and reflection.

(Incidentally, the picture is "Listening to Schumann" by Fernand Khnopff, 1883)

Speaking of Truth, Goodness and Beauty All in One Package

2008-08-15T01:00:00.003-04:00

Catechism 966: "Finally the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death." [Vatican II LG 59; cf. Pius XII, Munificentissimus Deus (1950): DS 3903; cf. Rev 19:16] The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son's Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians

HAPPY FEAST OF THE ASSUMPTION!

Are Truth, Goodness and Beauty Separable?

2008-08-14T01:00:00.009-04:00

Well, duh, of course they are! Now these transcendentals are not separable in God, but in man and creation (especially a fallen creation)? That should be a no-brainer, and yet this came up in discussion a couple of nights ago as it has other times in the past. Just think Hollywood and its "beautiful people." They may have zero amounts of truth and goodness, but they have beauty - in spades. Call it "superficial beauty" or "mere physical beauty," but it is beauty as we commonly understand it and experience it - first through the senses - and according to its definition as "the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else . . ."

Now, to be honest, I do not consider Paris Hilton the most beautiful woman ever (and I had to go through quite a few pictures in order to find one in which she didn't look simply trashy), but she has an honest to goodness natural beauty (maybe nothing else!) which will only grow as she matures, provided she doesn't destroy herself - something which is still open to question.

Nonetheless, I think that we like to have these things together. Because these transcendentals are together in God, we yearn for them to be together in creation. It can run the gamut all the way from disappointing to dangerous when they are separated, but it happens all the time. I once had a female fellow student in grad school say to me, shocked, "I just learned from a psychology major that when most men see a beautiful woman, they assume she must be a good person, too. Is this true?" Well, yes, it tends to be. With experience you learn better, but there is something to that. (I was shocked that she was shocked. Women don't think that way, too?) I think women are less taken with other women because they know them up close. They know what scoundrels attractive women can be at times - so they are less fooled. I also think women are driven differently in their attraction to men, not excluding looks, certainly, but including other things that don't factor as highly with men. That, however, is not my area of expertise and is, maybe, a matter for another post.

I know what scoundrels artists can be, so I have no trouble with the notion that an artist leading an immoral life can produce something beautiful. Now, I grant you that the darkening of the intellect and the will that comes with a life of sin can have an effect on the art one produces - especially in an age which stresses art as "self-expression." (not a universal concept) Nonetheless, the only way you are going to know that for sure is through the work of art itself, not through examining someone's personal life and then assuming their art must reflect it. After all, "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."

ALWAYS start with the work of art, first, and judge that. Anything else is a kind of "ad hominem" approach not worthy of people of culture and remember that art is about "making" - techne, facere - a skillful making which some people have through natural talent and/or training in a way that other people never will have. They may not have truth, they may not have goodness - but let's not deny the obvious and try to claim that they don't have the skill to make something beautiful when the evidence is staring everyone else in the face.

I also have no problem with the notion that a work of art itself can be beautiful, but, for example, lacking truth - or let us say the fullness of truth. We would certainly say that about Greek dramas. We don't believe those gods are real, although there may be major truths taught otherwise. I would even say that a contemporary movie like Woody Allen's "Crimes and Misdemeanors," is, in a sense, beautiful. It also has elements of truth and is very skillfully made, yet comes to a moral conclusion that is just wrong.

It IS beautiful, but it is wrong, just like Paris Hilton, and therefore it is potentially dangerous.

All right class, discuss.

Key Phrases From This Weekend's Rehearsals

2008-08-13T00:01:00.002-04:00

I try to write down phrases other choral conductors use, when I find them useful/amusing. These are phrases used by the various conductors I sang under at the Voices United Conference: John Rutter, James Bingham, Joe Eveler, and Patrick Walders.

"Altos, you are my little trouble children there."

"The basses are the most important section in the choir, but the sopranos are its crowning glory."

"Listen more than sing."

"Now you're listening too much."

"Do not sing 'beyond beautiful.'"

"Basses, you've had 'donkey's days' to prepare for that entrance and you still blew it." (I guess an Australian expression)

"I will tolerate no break away factions."

"Sir John will reciprocate your energy."

"The tone should be 'thin and crispy' rather than 'thick and crusty,'" or 'a spot of tea' rather than 'Sam Adams.'" (head tone vs. chest tone)

"Great . . . Right . . . Super." (John Rutter after almost every piece in rehearsal)

More on Movies

2008-08-12T00:01:00.006-04:00

An interesting point was raised by one of my commentators in my "To Catch a Thief" post which has inspired me to better formulate my view on film as art. For whatever it is worth, my view on movies is that, at their best, they are "moving paintings" ("moving pictures") more than they are "filmed plays." Partly this is inspired by Mel Gibson's statement about "The Passion of the Christ" that it was a "moving Carravaggio," although I don't think he quite meant it the way I mean it. I think he just meant that the lighting and color scheme was similar to Carravaggio's paintings. I mean it in the sense that the visual element in a good film is primary, in the same way that the music in an opera is ultimately what is primary.

Now, the history of opera is replete with various reform movements to better integrate plot, text, acting -even costuming and scenery, into opera. Wagner's operas and his concept of the "Gesamtkunstwerk" being only the most obvious example. (These were greatly needed at times, as some opera singers, with the connivance of the conductor, thought nothing about substituting arias from totally unrelated operas just to show off their voices.) Nonetheless, an opera is primarily a musical art form and thus a "concert version" of an opera (with no staging or acting) is possible. By extension, a play treated as literature to be read is also possible. Of course it loses something, but the study of Shakepearean drama in an English literature class is done all of the time. However, to read a movie script as literature? I think it may work in some cases, but for the most part, one can get more to the essence of a great film by watching it with the sound off, than by reading the script. Something is still missing, but I think LESS of its "nature" (if you can say that about an inanimate thing) is missing.

I suppose it is a controversial opinion which may reflect nothing more than my preference for a certain school of film-making. Certainly there have been great moments of dialogue and monologue in films. However I put this view out as, perhaps, a slight provocation in much the same way that Ezra Pound's statement that "music degenerates the further it moves from poetry and the dance" would have been a provocation in my grad school days. Ah, I can still see the hackles raising and the sound of switch blades clicking when someone would say something like that.

I am just trying to start a friendly rumble.

Anyway, above is a still from "La Dolce Vita," which I really need to blog on at some point in the future.

Between Schmaltz and Substance (or how I learned to stop hating Sir John Rutter and love the bomb)

2008-08-11T00:01:00.010-04:00

A whimsical title beginning a reflection on the relationship (or lack of relationship) between Schmaltz and Substance - and detailing my experience of John Rutter over the past several days.

THURSDAY - I arrived early at George Mason University's Fairfax campus to register for the ACDA "Voices United" Conference with special guest director John Rutter. "Registration" consisted of picking up my name tag as I had filled out my application and sent in my check months ago. Also, before I left for Europe, I received the music we were going to sing in the mail, the most important piece being John Rutter's "Mass of the Children" which is a concert Mass he wrote for mixed chorus, children's choir, soprano and baritone soloists and chamber orchestra. The rehearsal began at 4 PM with an introduction from the chairman for this event, which was sponsored by three different ACDA chapters, after which we went to different rooms for sectional rehearsals. This lasted about an hour and then we came back to the original room for a full rehearsal which lasted another hour.

We were released for dinner from 6-7 PM. I had to buy something at the food court on campus. It consisted of about six fast food restaurants. All were closed except a Chinese place and an Indian place. I tried the food at the Indian place and it was surprisingly good.

After dinner we had a two hour rehearsal with Dr. James Bingham, who currently is Director of Choral Activities at Columbia Union College in Maryland. If you want to get an idea of what James Bingham is like, my dear Christendom Choristers, think of an older, taller Australian version of me. He was tough, very particular but, in the end, got a very good sound out of us.

[Found myself sitting behind a teenage boy with the most incredibly beautiful golden highlights in his hair. What some women would kill for, this rather ordinary pimply-faced boy seemed to have by nature. Odd observation I know, but there it was right in front of me for two hours. (Don't worry, I haven't turned into Gustav Aschenbach yet.)]

FRIDAY - We rehearsed for six hours. Three hours in the morning at GMU, and then three hours in the afternoon at the site of the concert, Vienna Presbyterian Church. It is funny in that from the opening of the conference on Thursday we had been prepared for THE MAN (Rutter) as if he were royalty. The first people referring to him reverently as "Sir John" - although I am not sure how accurate this is. He did receive the "CBE" (Commander of the British Empire?) Award in 2007 from the queen, but I don't know if such a person gets to be called "sir." And James Bingham, who is a good friend, never referred to him that way, but he certainly added to the mystique in other ways, saying things like, "Oh, don't ever let John Rutter catch you not looking up when he cues you," etc. He had us scared.

Another thing I learned was that, in the festival choir, my section (Bass I) seemed to be made up of a few men my age, a number of rather shy high school to college age students, and then a whole bunch of naughty old men who clearly had not learned their part and had all sorts of bad singing habits. I was disappointed as I had not had as much time to prepare as I would have liked, assuming that I would be the weakest link in the chain of a top-notch section of other choral directors who had thoroughly learned the part. I thought I would be able to lean on them. That wasn't to be.

I was right next to one of those shy young men, probably 18-20 years old. He seemed to have a decent voice. He also reminded me of a young Elvis Presley, both in his looks, his manner, and his speech. He didn't have the hickish Southern accent of Front Royal, but the more melifluous accent and polite (almost courtly) manners Elvis was capable of at times. "Yes suh. Wah ahd be greatly ahnud, Col. Pahkuh." I found that if I sang out (someone needed to take the lead) AND leaned slightly in this young man's direction, he would sing out quite strongly, too. So, Elvis and I ended up leading the baritones and Dr. Bingham seemed quite pleased.

John Rutter arrived around 3 PM. He was a short, very thin man, in his early sixties, who seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet a lot. He wasn't tough at all. I am not saying he was no good, he seemed quite competent, but the vast majority of the preparatory work had been done by Dr. Bingham and the others who had run the sectionals. All that was left for "Sir John" to do was add a few finishing touches. (I wish I had assistants to do all the major preparatory work with a choir, while I was off having a martini.) In other words, Bingham got to be the "Dutch uncle," while Rutter was the "fun uncle."

SATURDAY - I got to hear the children's choir for the first time. They were exceptionally good. Very well prepared. About 100 of them, maybe 10 of whom were boys. (That's another matter. There need to be boy choirs, or else boys won't join. It becomes a "girl's thing." Major mistake to insist on "inclusive" children's choirs only, because boys end up being excluded.) Final rehearsals went well and it was a joy rehearsing with the orchestra (very professional) and with the organ (a three manual Schantz with a French console). Performance went very well. (Incidentally, the festival choir was made up of about 140 voices) This brings me to briefly discuss the music.

I had sung a few of Rutter's anthems in the past and ended up referring to them as "Men and Boy Pop," and "Anglican Cathedral Light" because of their combination of the Anglican choral sound with rather light, treacly-sounding music. I have listened to more of his music since then and have found that his longer works (e.g. "The Mass of the Children") are definitely better - there is more substance. I suppose these pieces of his could be compared to those of some of the Romantic composers, who tried to combine music of strong (sometimes overdrawn) emotion and musical craftsmanship. He gets closer to such pieces. I still don't think he gets all the way there. (I have also listened to some of his other anthems and found them to be even more treacly than the ones I knew - they were the worst sort of elevator muzak.)

I walked away from the concert thinking that, at its best, his music was "schmaltz for the thinking man" or "intelligent music for schmaltzmeisters." At any rate, what should the relationship between "schmaltz and substance" be or, better yet, between emotion and intellect in music? In any art?

To Catch a Thief

2008-08-08T00:01:00.003-04:00

Well Rick D., you and I can enjoy half of the picture. (I suppose Cary Grant wasn't bad looking, either.) Anyway, I bought "To Catch a Thief" a few nights ago and watched it. This was against my general desire not to buy DVD's anymore, having had my faithful factotum (and Soviet emigre), Mikhail Kolinovich, donate a whole trashbag full of old ones to the local library while I was in Europe. This was part of an effort to clean up my apartment. I am thinking of trying the NetFlix thing, but anyway, I am making an exception for classic movies - keeping and, occasionally, buying ones which I know I will watch over and over. And that is the thing with movies. I generally find that I can watch them once - maybe twice - before I am bored to tears. If I can watch a movie many times, I know it was well made.

Of course, this is the case with anything "classic," but I sometimes wonder if movies are different. Is it something intrinsic to them, or is it that it is a relatively new art form (approx. 100 years old), or is it that there would have been just as many, say, bad novels at any given point in time as bad movies - is it just that there is such a backlog of good novels now that we can focus exclusively on these? I don't know. At any rate, I often find that good movies are "idiomatic," that is, they use the idiom of film which is VISUAL.

This is why, differing from some of my friends, I do not think that the film version of "Brideshead Revisited" is a great MOVIE. I think it is a very enjoyable, competent, and faithful rendering of a great NOVEL. I have watched it many times - except for that one unpleasant scene which really was unnecessary - and it has not worn thin. This is because it is well made. However, all the talk about "how faithful it is to the novel" with the voice-overs taken word for word from the book, I think misses the point. A novel, obviously, is about words: dialogue and descriptions. A film, though it can have dialogue, succeeds to the extent to which there is a skillful manipulation of visual imagery.

Don't get me wrong, I think that the director of "Brideshead" (I forget his name) was given a job to do, and he did it extremely well. That is life. My hat is off to him. What I am saying is that this is a movie that is lower in the hierarchy of "cinematic greatness" than say, a Fellini or some Hitchcock films, because it does not exploit as fully the idiom of film, which is primarily visual.

This brings me to the movie at hand. First, Grace Kelly . . . . . .(sigh) . . . . . . well, let's move on. Actually, I did not think that this was one of Hitchcock's best films. There are no incredibly arresting scenes as in movies like "North by Northwest" or "Topaz." I am thinking of the scene in "North by Northwest" of Carey Grant standing on one side of the country road across from the other man waiting for the bus. They are totally, absolutely alone together, but they are not together - they might as well be two anonymous commuters in New York City - they themselves are social islands within a desolate landscape; or the scene in "Topaz" where the attractive Cuban spy is shot and the camera from above shows her falling and her long dress unfurling on the ground, like a flower opening. She is still beautiful, even in death. However, to try to "explain" these visual symbols does them a minor injustice. There are more layers of meaning to them AND like any good symbol, artistic or liturgical, they are more than just their explantion(s) - which a certain type of literal-minded person has trouble understanding - they simply ARE.

You cannot say, "Oh, now I know what the symbol means, therefore I can dispense with it." It is more than the sum total of its rational explanations. A profound symbol is inexaustible - and it exists, in a sense, for its own sake. It is irreplaceable.

"To Catch a Thief" is not one of Hitchcock's "Best Movies," but it is one of his "Better Movies." A decent enough basic plot with interesting twists, good camera angles and composition, a believable enough character development and interaction given certain conventions of 1950's movies. (Really, a 51 year old man being PURSUED by two young women, ages 26 and 18, may give some of us hope, but lacks a certain versimilitude. Although given Mr. Grant's looks and wit and the convention, it seems to work for some reason on the silver screen. And it doesn't seem in any way "dirty." "Foolishly romantic," perhaps, but not dirty.) And the wit, style and (natural) grace of Grant and Kelly are what really make the movie enjoyable. And it does end in marriage - certain "implied" pre-nuptial shenanigans to the contrary. Of course I am referring to the famous "fireworks" scene, but one has to admire Mr. Hitchcock's creative response to the censors. And the fact that there were censors, who may have forced him to be creative. Had they not existed, would we have simply gotten 5 minutes of pornography instead? One hopes not, but still wonders.

On the plane home from Europe, I watched a contemporary movie which I described to myself as, "a bunch of self-centered twits in bad clothes." "But I am 38 and I NEED to have a baby," says one of the characters. So she decides she will have one with her current boyfriend, but - apparently this gal thinks she has standards - so decides he is not good enough. Then she finds another guy, whom she decides isn't good enough, but, when he takes her ailing father to his doctor's appointment she decides, "he'll do." Of course there was no talk of marriage - and they were such self-righteous, unappealing characters (in bad clothes) - but the whole thing was presented as if it were "touching."

Anyway, watch "To Catch a Thief." It is much better.

Artistic and Cultural Symbols

2008-08-07T00:30:00.001-04:00

There are only two things you can do about a symbol you don't like:

1) suppress it (although censorship can backfire)

or

2) supplant it with a healthier symbol.

What you cannot do is argue against it. There is no argument against a symbol. The problem many of my parents' generation had was that they tried to teach their children one thing, while an entire apparatus of symbol-making institutions (TV, movies, etc. - a truly pervasive mass media) said, "no kids, this is what life is really all about." Guess who won?

I know Plato didn't like it, but it is the poets who hold sway - the philosophers have limited influence.

Man is a rational animal and arguments are important, however a way of life is ultimately bound up in symbol systems (whether high art or simpler cultural ones). I can, thus, understand the genesis of homeschooling. Sometimes, I think some homeschoolers go too far and are too restrictive, too reclusive. They become little ignoramuses, cut off from the greater cultural resources we all need.

Nonetheless, they are on to something real. It is the pervasive culture of the mass media, all its pomps and all its works, that is the problem. THIS is truly the "infamous thing" that needs to be crushed - or better yet, supplanted. Until then, we will all have to respect each other and live as best as we can.

Religion, Culture, and Liturgy

2008-08-06T09:27:00.001-04:00

A very short post for today.

I have encountered two people over the past year, American Catholics, who are both of a very high level of culture. Both of them have said to me that they prefer a "quick, vernacular (ICEL vernacular!) low Mass," to the fullness of the Church's traditional liturgical heritage - whether ordinary or extraordinary usage. You know, Latin, Gregorian chant, incense, etc. Without giving away the names or locations (and I have been all over the country in the past year), I will just say that it isn't as if they haven't had access to and a good sampling of the Church's liturgical tradition where they are from. Somehow, they want beauty when it comes to poetry, architecture, literature, music, etc. - and they will willingly sit through a three-hour long opera - but when it comes to the liturgy they consciously choose brevity and spartan simplicity. Can someone explain this to me?

There may be practical explanations (e.g. I wouldn't exactly want a Pontifical High Mass at 6 AM on a Wednesday morning - but that is not what they meant). There may be personal explanations peculiar to these individuals' make-up. I, however, think the explanation is more cultural. I think that this is the triumph of the "Mass as legal precept" and the "just the facts, ma'am - valid form and matter is enough, thank you very much" model in the West to the point that it is integrated even into some people's spiritual lives. These people were hardly what I would call spiritual slackers, either.

Don't get me wrong. I think there is room for a quiet low Mass during a busy weekday, but it should be as beautiful as possible. And it can be without that much effort. The church has done it for centuries. After my experience in Europe - where you see the traces of beauty much more strongly - I have pondered this more.

I do not think these people are totally alone - and I think Thomas Day has dealt with this (although I don't want to blame the Irish totally). There are more people like this, but not quite so extreme. Does anyone have any ideas?

Monsieur Hulot - "Playtime"

2008-08-05T08:04:00.000-04:00

Here begins my post-trip continuance of my blog. I will be posting on cultural matters pretty much as they come to me. This is a picture of Jacques Tati's famous character "Monsieur Hulot" in the 1967 movie "Playtime." Jacques Tati (1907-1982) was kind of the French Charlie Chaplin and his character, Monsieur Hulot, was, I suppose, somewhat the equivalent of the "Little Tramp" - although he was quite a tall man. Most of us have not heard of Jacques Tati, but he was very famous in France and Europe and was acknowledged by Rowan Atkinson (i.e. "Mr. Bean") as a major influence. Like Atkinson, he had training as a mime and it shows, however, unlike Atkinson, his character was always a well-meaning, friendly bumbler rather than the crabby bumbler that Mr. Bean often is. Anyway, I just wanted to say a few things about this movie which I have enjoyed ever since I discovered it about a year ago.

First of all, there is an innocence and naivete which would be foreign to many American movie audiences today - even when I was a teenager some of us might have said that it was "dorky." However there is a subtlety and sophistication to it once you get beyond the surface feel of it. There isn't a strong plot to it. To the extent to which there is a plot, it is about a group of American tourists in Paris - except Paris has become such a modern city, that they might as well be in New York (anything distinctive about Paris is pretty much gone) AND it is about Mons. Hulot wandering around town and his adventures AND it is about how these two groups (and others) encounter each other in a restaurant. However there is not really much plot or character development. What it is about is, modern cities, and public space and how modern architecture has created false barriers and is inhuman, and about how people end up reclaiming public space - sometimes breaking down architecture to do so. (In fact a modern reviewer stated that if Tati were alive today he would have delighted in tackling the "problem" of the cell phone - intrigued by the way it turns public space into private space. He probably would have created a movie in which all the cell phones would have malfunctioned and people would have been forced to interact with each other, being a part of the actual community around them.)

It is a long movie, so I will just concentrate on the final sequence: the "Royal Garden Restaurant" sequence. According to Jonathan Rosenbaum it is "Brueghel-like" and the "most formidable mise-en-scene in the history of cinema." It is a tour de force. It begins with the opening of a new restaurant and all of the last minute preparations of the staff. There is no single character who is focused on for very long and no close ups. (Thus the "Breugel-like" description.) There can be anywhere from 10 to 50+ people on the screen and the movie was filmed in 70 mm originally and meant to be viewed on a big screen. There are so many things that happen. However, one can gauge four major divisions based on the type of music. First there is a bossa nova band playing fairly relaxed music while certain architectural and personal problems are discovered at the restaurant. Division One. Then a jazz band replaces the first group and starts playing some more wild music. (I even think some of the people are dancing the "Christendom swing" and not the authentic East Coast Swing step - THAT is disordered!) Division Two. Then there is a long drum solo which changes into a more tribal, rock-like beat and the other musicians join in. Division Three. The people dance really wildly and even more chaos ensues.

Finally, a part of the architecture actually does break and the musicians leave in disgust, but it is used by this brash American tourist (who looks like an odd combination of Teddy Kennedy and Jay Leno) to create his own private club in one part of the restaurant. However he then helps to get someone to play the piano for everyone in the restaurant. The pianist, a young woman, plays some lighter, more relaxing music and is eventually joined by an older chanteuse who sings some of her old Edith Piaf-like hits and gets everyone to join in. Division Four. More and more people (who aren't strictly dress code) enter the restaurant to sing along and be a part of this community that has formed naturally after being freed from the "strictures" of the modern architecture. One of the reasons they can is because one of the glass doors had shattered early in the evening, but the doorman keeps up the ruse by "opening and closing" mime-like with only the bare door handle. He ultimately just gives up. (A very funny running joke in the movie has to do with the use of glass in modern architecture and how it gives the illusion of transparency, but ultimately is a boundary.)

Finally, the sun rises (it must be between 5 and 6 AM) and everyone realizes that it is time to go. They need to have some sort of "after-glow" party and the brash (and wealthy) American tourist buys coffee for everyone at a drugstore across the street.

All the humor, story-telling, and symbolism is in the visual. Although there is "dialogue" it is so insignificant and deliberately soft so as to indicate its unimportance. I have watched the movie in English and in French and it makes no difference.

It is definitely a "European" movie that is very symbolic and deals in concepts and social criticism. However it is not in anyway obnoxious or preachy, but rather sweet and light - and very humorous.

Final Reflections on My Trip

2008-08-04T09:56:00.009-04:00

I have received some favorable comments on continuing my blog, and this I may do, but I will first wrap up my thoughts on Europe.

PURPOSE: The ostensible purpose was a "Chant Study Tour of the Alps," and this is basically what it was. The "study" part was not too in depth - there were some lectures given (although not all of them were about chant per se) - and we visited two monasteries (St. Gall and Einsiedeln) important in the earlier transmission of chant, but didn't get to see the original manuscripts. On the other hand, we weren't "scholars with credentials" and there are facsimile publications out there. However we did get to visit places which still showed large traces of the first millenium when this was all happening: the fresoes at Kloster St. John in Mustair and the at the "Engelkrypt" in Vinschgau with the famous one of the angels without eyes (concentrated solely on the worship of God) from about the 1160's. This was the famous crypt fresco which inspired then Cardinal Ratzinger to write his essay in 1992 entitled "In the Presence of the Angels I Will Sing Your Praise: The Regensburg Tradition and the Reform of the Liturgy." (It's in A NEW SONG FOR THE LORD)

There was a lot of time for informal discussion and the "picking of people's brains" on important subjects like the semiological interpretation of the chant (about which more later), and just seeing the beauty in which God has been traditionally worshiped.

CHURCH BUILDINGS: I saw many very beautiful ones - some of which were preserved with very little change. Some had the "Vatican II people's altar" put in, some wanted to have it (the monastery at Einsiedeln) but the government wouldn't let them do it -the building being an historical monument (interesting concept that would never work in America), some put in a "people's altar" for actual Masses but then removed it quickly when the tourists came through. ("we give the tourists what is historical, but the faithful what is relevant"?). Most of you know my thoughts on this, so I shall refrain from saying anything. I will just say that it will take years, decades, for sanity to return on this issue. It has already begun in some places.

One of the things that I liked about the bigger church buildings (St. Gall cathedral) was that there were many "antechambers to the divine." One could sit in front of the pieta in St. Gall Cathedral which was behind a pillar about in the middle of the nave and pray a rosary. You could be in a sacral environment without having to be directly in front of the Blessed Sacrament. This was no denegration of the Blessed Sacrament - as its presence was felt throughout (and this wouldn't work in a small church) - but I just liked it better.

Again, as in Brompton Oratory, there was just the feeling that these places were places of prayer. There was no confusion what so ever, and I have come to be a bit of a fan of the Baroque now.

GREGORIAN SEMIOLOGY: I need to learn more, but I had many of my suspicions confirmed by a "convert" from semiology to the Solesmes method who was part of the tour. It is an interesting concept, the study of the early 9th century manuscripts (and those lines, backslashes, check marks and dots above the words) and the assumption that one can derive rhythm from them for Gregorian chant. One cannot derive pitch as there were no staff lines. The problem is that these "signs" are highly vague at times and produce varying interpretations. It is not like we have a book from the time saying, "this sign means such and such, that sign means this, etc." It is all 20th century scholars looking and trying to figure out what they mean. For example the clivis in the 9th cent. would have been written thus " /.. " Now some say that the sign means that the first note should be held long and the last two notes should be normal length; others say it means the first note should be held long and the last two very short; still others say it means the first note should be normal length and the last two short. Some say the first note should be legato and the last two staccato.

This approach doesn't produce unity; in the past 30 years of existence it has produced a wide variety of schools of semiological interpretation.

Fr. Skeris' other main argument against it is that this may have been the way the chant was performed for 1-2 generations, as a kind of local tradition in these places, but that after that time these little books - which could literally fit in the palm of your hand - and were only intended for the cantor to make reference to, were forgotten about. Certainly by the time Solesmes was doing its historical research in the 19th century, Einsiedeln was not performing chant in some unique way (St. Gall had already been closed down as a monastery)

The point is, if you want to do it that way - fine. The question is: "is this the most effective and beautiful way to pass on a tradition, a culture, to the widest number of people?"

COWS: (from the sublime to the ridiculous) The cows in Switzerland are very skinny and small. They look malnourished campared to ours. I realize that they aren't, but are just a different breed.

COMMUNION LINES: Same thing in Munich as in London. Not as orderly as in America, although someone told me this was simply "the old way" of going to communion - even, perhaps, in America before Vatican II . It was normal to assume that not everyone was necessarily going to go, thus the practice of people getting up and going "out of order." The current practice in America actually may "force" (socially) people not in a state of grace to make sacriligious communions.

THE FAITH: It is in serious trouble in Europe. I have heard this before and seen it with my own eyes. One does see many beautiful faith-inspired cultural remnants which they are more sensitive to. One sees pockets of resistance: Old St. Peter's in Munich, Brompton Oratory in London, etc. One senses that the Europeans are just tired. They went through: the Reformation, the Enlightenment, the Terror, Napolean, 2 world wars, Naziism, Communism, etc. One sense a jadedness at times, a cynicism about the Church in the tour guides (or rather an acceptance of a certain anti-clerical set of historical assumptions which are prevalent). It is not to deny some real natural virtue. I personally found the Swiss to be a very sweet, charming people. It is neither to deny that there are deeply religious Europeans, as I saw them in the churches.

What I didn't see were big movements and associations of young people - and young couples with lots of children (as I have seen in American Catholic circles). Maybe I just missed it. In fact, even the Muslims in Munich only seemed to have 1-3 children at most, but that may have been that they were newly married. I don't know.

What seems to be the case, is that Americans are a more positive, enthusiastic people who may be able to accomplish much if we learn the right things from or "older brothers and sisters." (i.e. Europeans) We simply do not have the level of culture and beauty - we have a tendency toward the utilitarian and of being comfortable with the down right ugly - but we do not have the cynicism, the world weariness that they have. As I have said, we are a "can do people." It has its disadvantages, as in the "Americanist heresy," but there is definitely a place for practical skills. (i.e. there is nothing like the Texas oil billionaire who has developed a genuine love of opera) In fact, art and art in worship has always required some sort of a "patron," - the rich guy who loves art and is willing to pay artists and artisans. The whole problem is that wealthy businessmen today are pretty much MBA's without even a semi-serious training in the liberal and fine arts.

This, however, is a much more complicated issue that requires something more than my ramblings.

Back in America

2008-08-01T19:15:00.003-04:00

My flight arrived safely and I made it through customs and am now in my office at Christendom College. I have not yet changed the time back (at is actually 7:15 PM FRIDAY USA Eastern time) because I am still on Munich time in my head. I want to thank all of my readers and commenters: Mom, Karl, Anne, Christine, Sylvia, Michael C., Michael B., Alaina, Ken and everyone else. I can't tell you how much it meant to receive your comments when I was away. I am not sure why, but I needed that connection. THANK YOU AGAIN VERY MUCH.

I will wrap things up, putting up a few more posts this weekend or early next week pertaining to my trip. I don't know what to do after this. I was thinking of just letting the blog drop, as its original purpose is over, but you let me know if you disagree.

Kurt

Imperial Residence Chapel

2008-08-01T18:17:00.003-04:00

Well, here it is. The chapel in the Imperial Residence in which much of Orlando di Lasso's music was originally performed. (The picture is a bit dark as they do not allow flash photos. Still, if you double click to enlarge it, you can get some idea.) Fr. Skeris told me that this chapel was an early example of a choir loft. So the very spot from which I took the picture could have been the very spot from which he stood - directing the singers (take careful note Christendom Choristers!). I should add that the Residenz was bombed also during WWII and reconstructed meticulously. So, I am not sure if the chapel itself consists of the original wood and marble or reconstructed wood and marble in the exact same place and pattern as the old - anyway it was still quite a thrill.

He was originally hired by Duke Albrecht V who was quite devout, so there was a daily morning Mass and evening Vespers which everyone in the court was required to attend. He was a very prolific composer and needed to be. Lassus had held the position of director at St. John Lateran in Rome just before Palestrina took over and then ultimately moved to Munich when hired by Duke Albrecht. He had come from Belgium (his real name was "Roland," "Orlando" is an Italianization) and had been all over Europe - even to England - before finally settling in Bavaria where he spent the rest of his life. He married a German woman and had six children. Three of his sons became musicians. Interestingly he suffered from severe depression the last ten years of his life - something that we melancholic creative types can suffer from. I am very sympathetic to the man.

Old St. Peter's Munich

2008-08-01T17:57:00.003-04:00

Here is a picture of the altar of the church we had our last Mass in on Thursday. It was at 11 AM and one of their five regularly scheduled weekday Masses. Even so, there were about one hundred people in this huge church which is in downtown Munich and competed with the Frauenkirche to become the cathedral, but lost out. I had to conduct the singers from the choir loft which was about a block away. We did the Byrd four-voice Mass. (Palestrina singers, I don't think you know how well you can make a phrase MOVE. Had lots of trouble with this group.) It was a Latin Novus Ordo Mass.

Anyway, this church - though parts of it date back to the Middle Ages (and it was "Baroquefied" as was typical) it was almost totally destroyed by bombing during World War II. What you see is a meticulous reconstruction carried out over almost 30 years after the war. Actualy this is typical of much of what appear to be "old buildings" in Munich. There was a law Hitler passed called "Wehrkraftzersetzungsgesetz," which was basically a law against "defeatism." It meant that, in practice, people weren't allowed to remove valuable things from buildings in target areas because that would imply the military couldn't defend the Reich. The church was hit several times by bombs and was on fire before anyone had the courage to even attempt to remove anything.

It looks very beautiful now.

Arrival in America

2008-07-31T16:01:00.003-04:00

PAGING MICHAEL COLLINS

Apparently all is set and United Flight 903 is to leave as scheduled. The only change is that it says now that it will arrive on Friday at Dulles at 2:45 PM rather than 3:02 PM. I would say, don't worry about it. Planes usually arrive late anyway. Show up around 3 PM and everything should be fine. Alles ist klar?

Herr Kurt (German: "Koort," American: "Kert," Australian: "Kayrt") Poterack

More Jane Austen

2008-07-31T02:49:00.003-04:00

For all of you "Austenites," a slight difference of opinion:

Earlier someone posted a remark about Jane Austen not writing romances but studies of human nature that I could not agree with more. The formal classification of Austen's work is "Novel of Manners". Austen's novels are not so much about romantic love as they are about behavior in a small and very sharply defined society. She might have chosen other milieux, but we may be glad she didn't, because she knew no other mileu than the one she wrote about, the English rural gentry of the early 19th century under William IV. Austen was remarkable not only for her penetration but also for a degree of realism hitherto unknown in the English novel. Walter Scott said of "Emma" that it was of "a class of fictions which has arisen almost in our own times, and which draws the characters and incidents introduced more immediately from the current of ordinary life than was permitted by the former rules of the novel, . . . copying from nature as she really exists in the common walks of life, and presenting to the reader, instead of the splendid scenes of an imaginary world, a correct and striking representation of that which is daily taking place around him". Austen herself once wrote to a friend, deploring the lack of realism characteristic of the common stock of romantic fiction of her day, that "pictures of perfection make me sick and wicked". And in her "Plan of the Novel", she mocked the very qualities that defined the romance of that time: "there will be no mixture... the Good will be unexceptionable in every respect -- and there will be no foibles or weaknesses but with the Wicked, who will be completely depraved and infamous, hardly a resemblance of Humanity left in them". Many of her contemporary readers admired the plausibility and depiction of real life in Austen's novels, as opposed to "the sensationalism, unlikely meetings between long-lost relatives, villainous aristocratic would-be ravishers, etc." that were served up to an eager public. But I would take issue with one thing the poster said that marriage and courtship are incidental to Austen's novels. This, I believe, is untrue, because courtship and marriage are not incidental to the society she wished to analyse; rather they were, as Austens' novels reveal on every page, its almost sole preoccupation.

RJD
Richard Divozzo
Circulation Team LeaderThomas M. Cooley Law School
Grand Rapids
616 301-6850 x6932

Comments?

Franz Xavier Witt's Grave

2008-07-30T15:12:00.006-04:00

Here it is: the grave of Franz Xavier Witt. 19th century Germany Catholic priest and founder of the Caecilian movement. His ideas were picked up by the Italian Fr. Perosi, who went back to Venice where they were picked up by his bishop (Giuseppe Sarto - "Joe Taylor") who then became Pope Pius X. Then, of course, he wrote the famous motu proprio of 1903 on Sacred Music. These same ideas were expounded upon by various other popes and they made it into Chapter VI of Vatican II's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy.

We sang his "De Profundis" (the same one in the red book, Christendom Choristers) at his grave, and then I personally asked for his intercession for all of my choir students for the up coming year. Incidentally the grave is in a cemetary in "Landshut" which is north of Munich. Saw the Basilica in which he was in residence and it was stunning. Off course my camera battery chose to run out again at that point.
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I have added to my "Some Reflections" post so please check that.

Munich Images

2008-07-29T17:07:00.004-04:00

I should get to bed soon, so here is a picture of the Marienplatz with one of the many outdoor cafes in Munich. Also a picture of a string quartet which was playing classical music. I encountered at least four musicians/groups on my walk to the Cathedral which was only about a 15 minute walk. There was, in addition to the string quartet, an accordianist, a gypsy band, a marimba player playing Bach and Mozart.

I will try to blog more tommorrow.

Gute nacht!

Some Reflections

2008-07-29T16:35:00.015-04:00

Here are some reflections on Switzerland and Munich:

TELEVISION: the funniest thing. In addition to their own shows they have lots of American movies and television shows which are dubbed into German. This puzzles me in that Europeans tend to speak 2 or 3 languages, many of them understand and speak English quite well. We Americans tend to only speak English, so you would expect them to use just subtitles which they could check every once in a while, and us to insist on dubbing. It is the exact opposite.

HOTELS: None of the hotels from Reichenau to Munich has had air conditioning. NOT A ONE. At least Reichenau had a fan. The others had windows you could open. I am all in favor of fresh air, but this is a bit strange. While the other hotels were closer to "bed and breakfasts," this is a big city hotel. (Fr. Skeris said it is common and European hotels are only slowly introducing air conditioning. The older ones don't have the duct work.)

Breakfast has been free at all of my hotels and not what we call "continental breakfast." Here is is definitely classier. It is a combination of buffet and waitress style here. You have to give her your room number and then she will get you "coffee, tea, or something else (I forget?)." When I made the mistake of saying coffee in American ("KAW-fee" instead of "kah-FAY") she stated speaking to me in English, but I faked her out by giving my room number in German, "Ein hundert, ein und zwanzig"). It generally consists of your choice of yogurt, real cereals (not frosted flakes), thinly sliced meats, cheese, croisants, breads, etc.

FOOD: In Switzerland it was the healthiest. I saw, maybe, two American chain fast food restaurants in Switzerland/Austria. I didn't see Zurich, because I was driven immediately away from the airport. Munich is a little different, because it is a big city, but still you see fresh fruit and vegetables sold everywhere - from rest stops to outdoor markets to the train station. Southern Germany is a little bit more "lumpen" as you start seeing dumplings, sausage, pastries, bologna, beer.

PEOPLE/CULTURE: Definitely slower and more relaxed than in America. Outdoor cafes all over the place. The people smoke like chimneys in Munich (NOT Switzerland), but they seem to be trimmer than in America. People ride bikes IN the city center of Munich, but it is easier because there are so many "platz's" - huge long stretches of street where no auto traffic is allowed. In Munich, an odd layering of Catholic culture (names, buildings, churches, music - even the gypsy band played some classical music) combined with some of the worst aspects of big city vices. [An outdoor display of post cards at a shop had a row of naked picture post cards, then a row of post cards with Pope Benedict XVI. (Said Fr. Skeris wryly, "Well, at least they're not Zwinglians.")]

The women are marginally more modest in their manner of dress in Munich than London, but that isn't saying much. I swear, before London, the last time I saw so many exposed breasts and thighs was in the poultry section of a supermarket. It makes me appreciate the Christendom gals even more. Even some of the stylish young Muslim women in Munich find clever ways of subverting the purpose of the burkah.

Which brings up the subject of Islam. I would say that easily 10% of the women in the downtown area are Muslim. Didn't see anything like that in Switzerland (nor London from what I remember). But as I pointed out above, it remains to be seen in what direction the influence will go. When you see a burkah with cleavage (as Bill Stoops did), it makes you wonder to what extent it is custom over substance.

AMERICANS vs. EUROPEANS: No doubt about it. They have the culture, art and sense of "gracious living." We tend to be more pragmatic and functional. A "can do" people who get the job done - and are rather literal-minded in a touching way. If there is something wrong, we want to "fix it," and often we succeed. Sometimes we get ourselves into trouble. They tend to love culture and art (e.g. all throughout Switzerland in the smallest of villages, there was always an organ being tuned - being gotten ready for a concert) AND they love ideas passionately, which gets them into trouble sometimes. They can be very stubborn about letting go of bad ideas (Communism, Socialism, Catholic liberalism, etc.) - things that just don't work, but appeal to certain minds. Then again, we sometimes don't take ideas seriously enough, or pursue to the depth to which they should be pursued because our concern is, "what can it do for me?"

Nonetheless, they seem determined to adopt some of the worst aspects of out mass media culture, albeit in their quirky European ways - at least in the big cities. Where will it all end? The whole question is, "what is the purpose of life?" "what are you living for?" Secular materialism provides no answer except: "the present - comfort, ease." This just does not satisfy the human heart in the end. We were made for something more. But we can be "drugged" into being happy with less - for a time. All of their customs, art, traditions of living, stem from an answer which a number of them don't seem interested in anymore. Will Islam jump into the void? I really don't know.

CARS: Lots of small European cars - even some small American cars like the Ford Festiva. French Citroens and Pugeots. Many different types of Italian Fiats - Doblo (a little truck), even the famous Cinquecento; Volkswagons, BMWs. Especially - tell this to Brian Black - the Sprinter truck. I see these all over the place in Munich, all throughout Switzerland, and even two on the Isle of Reichenau.

Achtung, Herr Michael Collins!

2008-07-29T07:08:00.004-04:00

UNITED FLIGHT 903 - WASHINGTON DULLES - 3:02 PM - THIS FRIDAY

I made a mistake. My flight DEPARTS Munich Friday at 11:35 AM (Munich time). It will ARRIVE at Washington Dulles at 3:02 PM (American time - on Friday August 1). It is United Flight 903. Terribly sorry! Entschuldigen Sie, bitte! I hope this will not be a problem. Incidentally, I cannot get at my e-mail. I am having a problem getting hotmail to open on my computer - have had the problem before in the States and, of course, it had to strike now. So - not being sure how often Michael checks my blog - would one of my Front Royal readers ask him to check my blog the night before? This is the only way I can convey information. I will then know for sure if my flight time has changed or not.
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Incidentally, I arrived safely in Munich and am at the Hotel Europaeischer. It was a nice bus ride through Italy, Austria and finally Southern Germany. Wednesday will be the Mass at downtown St. Peter's Kirche. We sing the propers and do the Byrd Mass for 4 Voices. As with the last several Masses, I end up being the director since Fr. Skeris either celebrates or concelebrates. Am trying to pull my "special" Byrd interpretation out of the choristers - having some success. After that to Franz Xavier Witt's grave to ask for his special intercession for my choristers for the coming year. Finally on Thursday, the tour of Orlando Lassus' stomping grounds: the Imperial chapel where his music was performed, even the house he lived in.

Kloster St. John

2008-07-28T07:09:00.007-04:00

A bit about the tour of the church. This was originally a church founded in the 9th century. There is a legend that it goes back to Charlemagne (Karl der Grosse) and recently they radio carbon dated some beams which go back to 757 AD. (If done accurately radio carbon dating can have an error margin of about 75 years in either direction). You can see part of the church and also barely see the pass through which Charlegmagne did indeed pass when on his way down to Rome to be crowned Holy Roman Emperor by the pope in 800 AD. On his way down he thought, "well, I might as well subdue the Lombards while I'm at it." And he did. Anyway, the legend is that he came back in February when the snows were heavy and that he had the chapel built-and a monastery established-to give thanks for passing through safely. His wife had another church built. Both still stand.

It is a believable legend.

Anyway, the second picture is of a "column-eater," a whimsical figure meant to remind us that "Alles ist kaput" (I can't remember the future tense) - "All will pass." Momento mori. Even these strong pillars, which are over 1000 years old, will pass.

The last picture is of one of the three apses. You can see the original fresco, very faint, which is Carolingian. The figures are wearing Roman clothing. Over it is the more "modern" 12th century fresco were everyone is wearing Frankish clothing. The monks had left and nuns moved in at that time. As Fr. Columban, our guide who spoke limited English said, (as best I can remember):

"und dann die Schwestern kommen"
(and then the sisters came)

"und Frauen wollen sehr Modern sein"
(and women wish to be very modern)

"so they had these up-to-date 12th century frescos painted over the Carolingian ones."
(I forgot the German.)

To be fair, this was done all the time by men as well - as on the Isle of Reichenau. But I found funny the idea of the nuns as 12th century interior decorators.* Actually this was done often. You can see elements of Carolingian, Romanesque, Gothic, and finally Baroque in this one chapel. They were a little more consistent in trying to integrate in the past- sometimes by just covering up with white wash. Things look so crazy now because restorers in the 19th-20th century started uncovering things and then the government, and finally international authorities, like UNESCO, get involved. A lot of these churches are protected by law as historical sites and so the church authorities cannot change them without permission. It's a mixed blessing.
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"Oh, those men! They've been here for four centuries and have changed the decor about as often as they put on a clean shirt!"

Latin Grave Inscription

2008-07-28T05:09:00.003-04:00

Here is the Latin grave inscription of which I had been speaking. Double click on it to see more clearly. Took a tour of the church and so much to say but little time before a Benedictine lunch of "Brot und Suppe." Point is, I learned that the Capuchins were here and had a long time presence going back to at least the Middle Ages (The church itself goes back to the 800's) AND the Capuchins ran a hospital/chapel elsewhere in the town during the Middle Ages taking care of the sick and homeless - so the "virtutibus" (virtuous works) makes perfect sense for our Ludovicus.

Muistair - First Full Day

2008-07-27T16:34:00.009-04:00

Sunday was our first full day in Muistair, Switzerland, which is a tiny village not more than 5 minutes from the Italian border - but that is a matter of some con-TRO-versy, as our Australian David Malloy says. Actually this is historically South Tyrol (Austria) and the villages on the other side of the border were forcefully incorporated into Italy by Mussolini in 1928. Almost every one in the villages is ethnically German and speaks German, but signs are in Italian as well. I do get at least two Italian television channels at the hotel in Muistair, though. Saw this strange program involving an attractive Italian blonde lady in a yellow dress who would sing and then trade quips with five men in easy chairs on the stage - all in tuxedos but one in a hideous pink one. Then there was some contest in which, out of other singers, one was chosen to sing and present his/her music video. Everyone was between 35-55 and the music sounded oddly like Bobby Vinton from the 70's - kind of safe "popular" music of that era (Think of Anacani singing "Eres tu" on the Lawrence Welk show.) It was this strange combination of The Mike Douglas Show/Wheel of Fortune (with roles reversed-and 5 Pat Sajacks)/and Star Search for people of more mature years.

It was very odd and slightly tacky, but also touchingly innocent. It made me more favorable to the Italian land grab of 1928. If this is what the Swiss get instead of the German pornography channel, then my hat is off to Mussolini.

The main point of the day was, of course, the Sunday Mass, so let me tell you about this. It was at Kloster St. John which is no more than 100 meters down the road. The picture above is from the graveyard. It is a nun's convent, but the chapel is open to the people. I wasn't expecting much, which was wise. It oddly reminded me of a parish Mass in Grand Rapids, MI from about 1973 - but slightly better. It was actually because the young Swiss priest was more towards the conservative side. The Swiss can be pretty bad, so he and the nuns (and we) kept it from being too bad. We sang Mass VIII and some of the Latin propers, plus a Lasus motet (Exsultate justi). There was only one server - an altar BOY, and no lay distributors, but there was a woman in a pant suit who did the reading. The rest of the Mass was in the vernacular - or I should say vernacularS: German and Romansh. I was just fascinated to hear Romansh. My reaction was indeed that it sounded very much like Latin. That may be because I know, say, Italian and Spanish and therefore would react, "O, that's Italian or Spanish," rather than notice the similarities to Latin - as I did with Romansh. I am not sure. I believe the Pater noster began "Pater noster" (or perhaps "Pater nosse") and a lot of the Latin words were changed by an "s" becoming "sh," as in "Jesu Christus" becoming "Jesu Christoosh."

(Fr. Skeris said, "Ja, ja it's those mountain people with their thick tongues during Caesar's day trying to speak Latin. S's would get turned to sh's because of their unwieldy tongues and then it got written down that way.")

The choir did OK. There are some talented people, every one is very nice, but there are a fair number of "enthusiasts." I miss the professionalism of my college choirs and schola. Can't say anything more here, only quote Chesterton, "If something is worth doing it is worth doing poorly." (i.e. often culture is passed on simply by doing it, even if not always in the most perfect way.)

We then had lunch and crossed over the Italian border and went to visit a famous monastery which I will blog on more later. Just too much to say and we will go back Tuesday. We had two rehearsals, had dinner and a long conversation with Fr. Skeris and three others on chant interpretation which continued after he left for another hour or so.
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I was able to read a grave inscription on a stone just outside the church this morning. Given the state of the stone and the type of carved letters my guess is that it would have been early 2nd millenium (i.e. close to the year 1000 AD). It said:

"Hic iacet religiosus ex virtutibus factus bonus.
Ludovicus fuit vocavit et ex capucinis fuit datus."

which, I think, translates:

(Here lies a religious who was made good through virtuous works.
He was called Ludovicus and was given out of the Capuchins)

P.S. I will try to put a picture up tommorrow, so you can write in and tell me what you think.

Sicut Cervus Parody

2008-07-26T16:15:00.003-04:00

For all my Christendom Choir students - a "Sicut cervus Parody" (kind of) which I learned from a Swiss priest today. He said he found it carved into a monastic choir stall:

"Sicut boves in prato, vos in choro boatis."

(Like the cows in the field, you in the choir bellow.)

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P.S. Please understand that I thought you would find it funny, I did not mean to imply you SING that way. (Quite the opposite.)

Hotel Munsterhof

2008-07-26T11:59:00.003-04:00

Three pictures of things about the Hotel Munsterhof: 1) my room, which is the most "charming" of the hotels I have stayed at, (O my goodness, church bells are ringing throughout this small, charming, Medieval town now! Right now! It is hard to describe the experience!), 2) the ceiling of my hotel room with its old painted designs (and crack!), 3) the old fashioned key to my room.

The Town of Mustair

2008-07-26T11:57:00.004-04:00

This truly is a hamlet with narrow, Medieval roads which the bus driver had to navigate.

Journey over the Alps

2008-07-26T11:26:00.004-04:00

Above is a picture of the Swiss Alps which we had to go over on our journey to Muistair today, which is close to the Italian border. I took this picture at the Ofenpass. Everything is quite beautiful. I also took a picture of Swiss cyclists which is above. It is quite strange, but there it is. There are a lot of people who go cycling through the Alps - even a handful of people pedaling actual bicycles (Fahradden). Some of the curves in the mountain road are literally LESS than 45 degrees. When I saw the first one, I thought, "No, that's another road connecting to ours - like an entrance ramp. Then we will both proceed forward past that part of mountain obscuring the road." But I was wrong. Think of an inverted "v" of a little two lane road, and that is the sort of turn "Koort" the bus driver had to take more than once. He did it well.

We stopped at a rest stop just before the Alps. Understand that a Swiss "rest stop" -in addition to gas- has a book store, and a grocery store with fresh fruit. There was one "fast food" place, but it was closer to "Panera Bread" than McDonald's. Gas, however, is the equivalent of $8 per gallon.

Finally, a sign along the way which has the elusive "Romansh" language on it. The top line is Italian. The second line is German. Both mean "camping forbidden"- although I am told that "campieren" is a fabricated German verb. The third line is the Romansh. German, again, for the last line. These final two lines mean "is totally forbidden for the territory of the community of Susch." Notice the Romansh "tuot" is from "totus" (all, completely) and "cumun" is from the Latin "communio" (community). Of course, Romance languages like French, Italian, Spanish derive from Latin so you can see root words in common as well. It is just that Romansh is supposed to be a direct historical survival of the "vulgar Latin" of the 8th century and then, before that, of the Latin dialect of the people of the Helvetica* region which would have been harsher, rougher - more German, and less refined than, say, the Latin of Cicero.
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*"Helvetica" is the Latin word for the modern region of Switzerland. You will still see the Swiss use the abreviation "CH" for their country which means "Confederatio Helvetica."

Last day in Northern Switzerland

2008-07-25T18:42:00.004-04:00

Tommorrow morning we leave for Muistair which is in Southeastern, Switzerland near the Italian border. Supposedly free Internet access in the hotel there, but we shall see. I really must get to bed as it is past midnight here. I will miss the friendly region of the Appenzell, which is the most stereotypically "Swiss."
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On an interesting side note, I see that Bianca Jagger-former wife of Mick Jagger-has signed a petition asking the British Bishops to make more Tridentine Masses available. Check it out on http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/damian_thompson/blog/2008/07/24/leading_catholics_petition_for_latin_mass. Actually, I am only mildly surprised. It says she regularly goes to the Brompton Oratory. Maybe she was the lady who bumped into me - as she just looks like an ordinary middle aged British lady now.

Tschoos, Tschoos!

Pictures of London

2008-07-25T18:33:00.003-04:00

Since I have free access to the Internet AND on my own computer to boot, I figured I would put up some of my London pictures. They are: Big Ben, Westminster Abbey OR the Houses of Parliament? (they are close to each other and the same style), the red brick Westminster Cathedral, and Brompton Oratory.

John Singenberger's Church

2008-07-25T17:56:00.004-04:00

Johann Singenberger was born in St. Gall, Switzerland and emigrated to the U.S. where he founded in 1874 the American branch of the St. Cecilia movement and the journal "Cecilia" - which later became "Sacred Music" (and which I edited for a few years). We went to visit his baptismal church of St. Peter and Paul in nearby Kircheburg. It is a very beautiful Baroque style church and we were met by one of his descendants - the very spry 84 year old gentleman in the top picture - who presented us with an inscribed family genealogy. He is the grandson of one of Singenberger's brothers. We sang Singenberger's Ave Maria in the church for him. Then he took us all out for a drink - a glass of white wine with sparkling water in it (Wasser mit Gase)

Konstanz and Einsiedeln

2008-07-25T16:59:00.002-04:00

The Three Kings (Die Drei Mohren) on the door of the Cathedral of Konsatnz carved in 1470. Medieval shops in the town of Konstanz from the 13th century. Finally, the Monstery of Einsiedeln.

Cathedral of Konstanz and Conclave Hall

2008-07-25T16:55:00.002-04:00

The Cathedral where the 15th century Council of Constance was held (and for which Isaac composed his 'Choralis Constantinus') and the hall in which Pope Martin V was elected.

Sanct Gallen Cathedral/Monastery

2008-07-25T15:36:00.007-04:00

This is St. Gall Cathedral which was founded originally as a monastery in the 8th century on the spot of a hermitage of St. Gall, who had been a disciple of St. Columba. Along with Einslieden, it was founded on the spot of a hermit. Einsiedeln means, one (eins) + hermit or wayfarer? (siedeln). It was St. Meinrad. These were part of the roaming band of Irish monks and bishops who came to the area at the time. Anyway, the Benedictines took over the monastery in 747 AD. We toured the library, but didn't get to see the actual famous St. Gall chant manuscript from the 9th century. It is locked away in a special room for scholars with credentials. We did get to see, among other things, an 11th century collection of tropes and sequences with the older notation (in campo aperto) in the margins of the text. Of course, St. Gall was a leading producer of the "sequence," one of the early composers being its monk Notker Balbulus ("Notker the Stammerer"). At one point there were over 5,000 sequences floating around Europe, but the Council of Trent reduced them to four, with a fifth one readded in the 18th century.

In the 16th century the city was allied with the Lutheran movement - the abbot/prince losing much of the land and buildings which had all been under his jurisdiction. However, two separate St. Gall's continued (a civil Lutheran one and a Catholic ecclesiastical one) until the early 1800's when Napolean's troops marched in and the monastery was dissolved with it becoming a cathedral instead. The area was turned into a secular Swiss canton. The current cathdedral - obviously Baroque/Roccoco was rebuilt in the 1760's while the monks still inhabited it.

(The second picture is of a side altar which is one of five within the sanctuary. You can see the carved wood choir stalls in the back.)