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.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Religion, Culture, and Liturgy
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?
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?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Monsieur Hulot - "Playtime"
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.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Final Reflections on My Trip
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.
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.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Back in America
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
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
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
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)