HowClef-er!: England

Showing posts with label England. Show all posts

Friday, 4 April 2014

Sound of Praise: Church music amongst commoners

This is my final assessed blog for my course, though I am contemplating writing more as we go into second term simply to reinforce what I have learnt in my lectures. It has been a valuable past time, and one I hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing.

The church music we know and love now as part of the Baroque and Classical periods has largely originated from great cathedrals and higher institutions, but as today we have our pop adaptations of church music (such as memory verses put to rap), so the ordinary parishes then had their own different music for the masses. So, today’s blog is on Anglican Church music in the 18th and 19th Centuries.

The Anglican Church

The Church of England was established at the time of Henry VIII when he sought a divorce from Catherine of Aragon and the Pope did not allow it. Henry set himself up as supreme head of the Church of England in 1534, and aside from a brief and bloody return to Catholicism with Mary I the monarch has been the head of this church. Since that time the Anglican Church has largely been based on compromise on a large range of beliefs, in order for everyone to behave uniformly, which strikes me as a bit of an oxymoron.

The parish music

With such a background it is not surprising that the music of the following centuries greatly varies from parish to parish, and was subject to a great amount of change over time as popular opinion altered. In the 1800s, church singing wasn’t authorised and was considered illegal, but because congregations approved it churches did it anyway. This was aided by the fact that rubrics (the documents defining what church was and wasn’t) talked in lengths about how the church was to look, but remained silent on how it was to sound. Therefore parishes could pick and choose what suited them.

What it sounded like:

Due to many of these congregations being illiterate, there is little documentation of how hymns developed or altered as it tended to be an oral tradition, passing from generation to generation and becoming slower and slower as a consequence of younger generations not knowing the words or tunes properly, which explains how slowly our congregation sings ‘When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,’ composed in 1707.

Also, it is important to note that not everyone, in fact, no one in the country could afford to have Handel compose songs for their parish. Town musicians were little more than self-taught, but took it upon themselves to arrange music for the congregation, which resulted in tunes reminiscent to my year 11 attempts at arrangement. Parallel fifths and octaves, unresolved clashes... Since no music theory rules had been taught to them, this brought about rather jarring (but nonetheless enthusiastic) versions of music that had been popular in the towns, but didn't survive in memory quite as one would have hoped. Here is a clip of ‘Hark the Herald Sing’ as an example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2E07b1WaJyQ

What is music in churches for?

While we know that singing is an integral part of a church service in any part of the world, it is good to look at the reasons why. Various sources from the bible give instruction that singing is part of worship, for example Colossians 3:16, and also the entire book of Psalms is dedicated to singing as part of worshipping God. Singing often comes from an overflow of emotions, such as joy or sadness, and as Nicholas Temperley notes music can “move men’s spirits”. Therefore the role of music in church is to direct thoughts and heats to God in response to what he has done, which is what the Church of England has been doing for the past 200 years, and will probably continue to do for the next 200 years, albeit with a more tuneful ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’.

Friday, 28 March 2014

Of Monarchy and Oratorio

I was torn between the two topics of Catch/Glee clubs and Oratorios this week because there were things that I wanted to write and draw about for both, so finally I resulted to my musical version of ‘flip the coin’: Playlist on shuffle, songs beginning with A-M would be Catch and Glee Clubs, N-Z would be Oratorio. There was a strange moment where I think my playlist was as confused as I was, for it played Glee’s version of ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ which caused a fair amount of laughter.

But a deal is a deal, and oratorio it is. In particular I will be looking at how the monarchy and religious beliefs influenced it.

1) Belief and other things

When looking at religious beliefs in eighteenth century England we might be shocked at how little debates differ from those in our own time: Is the bible reliable/true? Is the New Testament (written account from Jesus’ birth, life and death including subsequent letters to support he was the Son of God and how believers are to live as a response) to be taken seriously? Is the Old Testament (account of creation, the fall, and God’s dealings with his people) relevant? Can all the miracles be explained through science?

Yes, people in the 1700s considered the same things as we do today. At this point and time in England, due to advances in science and relative freedom in expressing views, was at a highly unstable point, reinforced also by the king’s tentative position to the throne. James II was Catholic in a Protestant nation, and soon after his coronation there was an uprising that was suppressed, closely followed by him signing the Declaration of Indulgence, which allowed everyone to practice their own religion. Many considered this illegal, as it allowed non-Anglicans to go to university (gasp) as well as attain high positions, and caused some Protestants to send a letter to William of Orange inviting him to come and take over, which he did. This was in 1688. Following his death and his sister Anne lacking an heir, English Parliament reinstated James I’s granddaughter Sophie and whatever child of hers was Protestant as heir. Before she could take the throne she died, and so her son George became king. I know, confusing, right? All we really need to know is that England is in a pretty shabby state monarchy-wise, which meant it was shabby religious-wise.

Hopefully this helps to explain a bit.

2) So, where does music come into this?

As mentioned last week Handel arrived in 1710, which was during the reign of Anne who had given birth to 17 children, none of whom lived to adulthood. There was little mention of whom would succeed, though it was on everyone’s mind. As previously mentioned, George I succeeded her. Handel wrote his best operas during this time, but was plagued with bad luck when it came to financing these grand displays of theatre. Around the time when George II came to the throne, Handel changed tact, creating the genre of oratorio.

Now, at this point you might get a wave of familiarity of “aaah, Handel’s Messiah”. Good, encourage that thought: large choirs, beautiful solo lines, but no staging, acting, costumes or special effects. In effect, a production far cheaper than opera. However, this is where religion comes in.

Although Handel was valiant in remaining shady in the area of what he believed or who he supported, his librettist (lyric writer) was not. Charles Jennens, Hendel’s librettist from 1735-1745, was an ardent Protestant and supporter of George I. In regards to politics, in Saul he supports Saul (the failing king) as a character rather than David (the usual hero) to support James’ line of succession rather than that of William of Orange. Religiously he uses his librettos to answer some of the questions at the start of this post: In The Messiah which is the oratorio of Jesus’ birth (found in the first 4 books in the New Testament) supports Jesus’ birth as the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies, using 80 verses from scripture in the libretto, the vast majority of these from the Old Testament. As an example, the prophecy from Isaiah (chapter 9 verses 6-7) “For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given; And the government shall be upon his shoulder…” used as the 12th piece of The Messiah (link). These sentiments can also be found in Belshazzar where strong links are shown between Christ and Daniel. Also his compilation of the text for Israel in Egypt focusses on how the miracles happened by God’s hand, rather than any human influence.

Excerpt from Handel's Messiah, no. 12 Chorus: For unto Us a Child is Born

It has been interesting this week looking at the music that is now just considered the mainstream classical music, but at the time was really used as a rebuttal of arguments. Our lecturer likened it to the concept of global warming and how it has worked its way into music composed in the last decade, which I suppose is accurate in some ways, but maybe only on a lesser scale.

Any thoughts? Please comment below.

Further readings:

Ruth Smith, Handel’s Oratorios and Eighteenth-Century Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp. 141–156.

Ruth Smith. "Jennens, Charles." Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press. Web.

British Library, Making of the UK, ‘Outline of events in 1688’

"George, I." Encyclopedia of World Biography. Detroit: Gale, 1998. World History in Context.

"Anne, Queen." Historic World Leaders. Gale, 1994. World History in Context. Web.

Further Listening:

Handel's, Saul. http://canterbury.naxosmusiclibrary.com.ezproxy.canterbury.ac.nz/streamw.asp?ver=2.0&s=31852%2Fcanterburynml09%2F2379226

Friday, 21 March 2014

Lost in Modernization

Leaving the music history lecture on Wednesday with my friend to go and have a coffee we walked in a sort of stunned silence. My friend broke it first:

“I don’t understand. Why would you pay thousands of dollars on the perfect singers and period instruments, and then do that with the set?”

She was referring to the unfortunate rendition of Rinaldo by G. F. Handel we had just watched. A review written by Peter Wells describes the 2001 DVD's situation as this: “it is currently the convention in the staging of baroque opera to seek historical accuracy in the musical aspects but to juxtapose this with modernity of staging, setting and costume.” But he also notes that no one, not even director, explains why Rinaldo looks like a cross between an accountant and mafia member, nor why the set in Act 1 has wallpaper covered in palms with eyes drawn on them (honestly, whoever thought Pan’s Labyrinth would be a good basis for décor?).

I kid you not, this is an image from it.

Rinaldo was the first original Italian opera to be performed in London, and it goes something like this: Rinaldo is a knight of the first crusade who along with Goffredo (yes, Godfrey) is laying siege to Jerusalem to capture it. Goffredo’s daughter Almerina is with them and she is the love interest of Rinaldo. Armida the sorceress is on the enemies side and sees the only way of winning is to capture Rinaldo, so she goes and steals aforementioned love interest. In turn Rinaldo mounts a rescue mission which ultimately means he is caught in Armida’s trap. Armida then falls in love with him and so he manages to escape after spurning her love. There are a series of battles, the crusaders win, and all live happily ever after (with the surprising inclusion of Armida, who converts to Christianity, which is quite different from the original story).

I would without hesitation describe Handel’s music as sublime. At age 25 when he arrived in England he was writing music scarcely rivaled to this day, hence we still listen to it and have DVD adaptions of it. And considering there are no more castrati today, I would say he would have been pleased with David Daniels' performance in this instance. With eyes shut, it sounded as authentic as any good rendition of Handel. As a piece of advice though, I would recommend to keep your eyes shut.

Somewhere out there, zombie-Handel has his eyes firmly shut.

But this begs the question: Should we be reviving and modernizing things of the past? Is there value in mangling Monteverdi, or shifting Shakespeare? I would say yes, though this causes greater difficulty in operas than plays.

For heaven’s sake, maintain your form!

This would be my cry to all those who wish to bring new interest or enthusiasm for something that has long past. If you have kept the original script and not touched it, then do not alter the period set and costumes. Having a 1920s (though seriously, it looks more 1940s) set and keeping the musical style as accurately as you can to the 1710s is only going to cause confusion. My advice would be to just scrap anything remotely 1940s if you can. Anachronisms are just not pretty.

An example of modernization working can be seen in the more recent adaptions of Shakespeare which appeal to youth such as Ten Things I Hate About You (Taming of the Shrew) or She’s The Man (Twelfth Night). The key in this is if you have a modern setting, modernize the language.

I understand that there’s a huge limitation with modernizing an opera as opposed to a play. Composers have been deified and not one critic who knows his Handel would be happy with anyone modernizing the words and music to make it more appealing to youth. The story of Rinaldo has enough drama in it though to draw in a crowd if there were a revamp of the words: Battles, love triangles, pretty woman getting kidnapped. But I see little chance of anyone trying to alter the original masterpiece that it was without going insane. “Improving” and “Handel” do not go in the same sentence.

Unfortunately in all of this, I can only offer one simple solution: do not alter period setting and costume.

No opera should have polka-dots. I'm sure it's a rule somewhere.

In conclusion, I would like to say that this particular version of Rinaldo should have either done everything in period costume or set, or had Armida as a home-wrecker and Rinaldo’s voice dropped an octave. Or two.

What are your thoughts? Comment below.