Conference of Roman Catholic Cathedral Musicians: Oakland, CA

Shelby Fisher

Shelby Fisher earned Bachelor of Music and Master of Music degrees in organ performance and pedagogy from the University of Utah, Salt Lake City, where she studied under Kenneth Udy. She is organist and director of music at Christ United Methodist Church in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Jean Langlais (1907–1991) composed his organ Mass Suite médiévale in 1947, drawing on a rich tradition of French organ suites composed for use during the “low” Mass. Changes to the liturgy after the Second Vatican Council (“Vatican II”) in 1962 drastically reduced the role of the organ during the Mass, thereby eliminating the need for the French organ Mass. Suite médiévale is one example of a body of small-scale liturgical organ compositions that no longer carry their intended relevance due to changes to the liturgy. These works are often neglected in both concert and liturgical settings, yet they can be appropriate for both. Exploring the musical and liturgical heritage that influenced Langlais, as well as the changes resulting from the Second Vatican Council, provides today’s organists with a frame of reference to interpret and understand his organ compositions.

Organ music and the liturgy in twentieth-century France

During the four centuries between the Council of Trent in 1563 and the Second Vatican Council between 1962 and 1965, liturgical organ playing in France became highly developed in large part due to the autonomy afforded French bishops to govern the liturgy within each diocese.

The most widely known liturgy used in France was the Parisian Rite, which was used until the middle of the nineteenth century. Accordingly, most French liturgical organ music from the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries was written for the Parisian Rite.¹ Eventually the Parisian Rite was supplanted by the more universally recognized Roman Rite. This affected the evolution of the French organ Mass in at least two ways. First was the retention of the “low Mass,” during which the organist played for virtually the entire service, pausing only for the reading and homily as described by Gaston Litaize:

During this era, the organist at the main organ normally played two Sunday Masses:

1) The “Grand Messe,” which involved a processional, an offertory, often an elevation, a communion, and a postlude; in addition, he alternated with the choir for verses of plainchant for the Ordinary (Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus, Agnus Dei); they sang a verse and the organ commented on in, changing registrations for each verset.

2) The “Messe Basse,” where the organist could virtually play a recital. With everything spoken in a low voice [“à voix basse,” hence “Messe basse”], this is what happened: the priest left the sacristy, the organist played a procession, which lasted until the Gospel reading, then came the sermon. The organ then resumed and didn’t stop until there was no one left in the church. So, one could easily play a complete Choral by Franck.²

Second, with the introduction of the Roman Rite, French organists largely moved away from chant-based organ music, favoring all-purpose Offertoires or Grand Choeurs.

A chant revival movement soon made its mark on French liturgical organ music. In 1889, the Benedictine Abbey of Solesmes published a new chantbook based on extensive research of early manuscripts that sought to restore chant to its medieval form.³ Interest in chant revival trickled into Parisian music circles, where in 1894, organist-composers Alexandre Guilmant and Vincent D’Indy founded the Schola Cantorum de Paris. The school’s founding manifesto called for the “performance of plainchant according to the Gregorian tradition; restoration of polyphonic music in the Catholic Reformation style of Palestrina; the creation of ‘new modern Catholic music;’ and improvement of the repertory for organists.”⁴ Guilmant in particular championed a return to organ compositions that used chant, writing that, “The German organists have composed some pieces based on the melody of chorales, forming a literature for the organ that is particularly rich; why should we not do the same with our Catholic melodies?”⁵

No French organist-composer produced more of this literature than Charles Tournemire. He studied at the Paris Conservatory with César Franck and Charles-Marie Widor, eventually succeeding Franck as titular organist of Sainte Clotilde in 1898. His largest organ work was L’Orgue mystique, a cycle of 51 organ Masses, one for nearly every Sunday of the liturgical year. Each Mass comprises five movements: Prélude à l’Introït, Offertoire, Élévation, Communion, and Pièce terminale, all drawing motivic material from the proper chants for the given day.6

Jean Langlais and Suite médiévale

Charles Tournemire mentored only a few private students who showed the greatest promise. One of these students was Jean Langlais. Earlier Langlais had studied organ with André Marchal at the National Institute for Blind Students, then with Marcel Dupré at the Paris Conservatory. Upon graduation from the conservatory, Langlais continued improvisation studies with Tournemire and served as his assistant at Sainte Clotilde. Langlais chose Tournemire as his instructor specifically for Tournemire’s fluency with improvisation on plainchant.⁷

Langlais eventually succeeded Tournemire as organist at Sainte Clotilde in 1945. The Cavaillé-Coll organ at Sainte Clotilde had been enlarged and slightly modified at the end of Tournemire’s tenure, and Langlais was eager to compose for the new instrument. Langlais composed four organ Masses between 1947 and 1951.⁸ His Masses are important not only because they demonstrate both the pervasiveness of the plainchant revival movement and the development of the French School of improvisation and composition, but they are also significant because they are some of the last French organ Masses to be published.⁹

In 1947, Langlais completed Suite médiévale: en forme de messe basse.¹⁰ As indicated by the subtitle, the suite was intended for use at the “low” Mass. Langlais not only followed the same five-part structure as Tournemire, but also used chant as inspiration. However, unlike Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique, Langlais chose chants appropriate for use throughout the liturgical year rather than those tied to a specific day.

The first movement of the suite is titled “Prélude: Entrée” and can be divided into two parts. The first half opens on full organ with a succession of parallel fourths and fifths suggestive of Notre-Dame organum followed briefly by the incipit to the chant “Asperges me, Domine,” or “Thou shalt sprinkle me, oh Lord,” before returning to the fortissimo parallel fourths and fifths. The antiphon, taken from Psalm 51, typically accompanied the Asperges, or ritual sprinkling of the congregation with holy water at the principal Mass on Sunday. The first half ends with the rubric, “If not needed, do not play further,” suggesting the flexibility of the suite to be adjusted to fit requirements of the Mass at the moment of performance. The second half further develops the chant, first in parallel fifths, and then in parallel fifths doubled at the octave in the manuals. In a nod to the Solesmes style of chant singing with its unpredictable pulse, the time signature throughout the “Prélude” changes frequently.

The second movement, “Tiento: Offertoire,” was intended for use during the offertory of the Mass, hence its longer performance length of four minutes. Here Langlais honors Spanish keyboard music of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, constructing a loosely imitative four-voice fugato, punctuated three times in the pedal by the Kyrie trope “Fons bonitatis” from Mass II. The Medieval practice of chant troping, or the insertion of additional texts and/or melodies within the standard chant, had long been abandoned. Langlais’ inclusion of the Kyrie trope is a clever acknowledgment of this historical practice rather than a modern application of chant. The movement ends with a final appearance of the chant accompanied by soft, homophonic chords. In order to keep rhythmic freedom without frequently changing the time signature, Langlais indicated “0” as the beginning time signature, explaining, “The sign 0 signifies free measures as for their length but regular as for their note value.” Langlais continued to employ this practice in later compositions.¹¹

“Improvisation: Élévation” is the calm and meditative third movement, utilizing a simple registration of only a single stop for each manual. It begins in A major, then moves to E-flat Mixolydian just before the introduction of the well-known and ancient Eucharistic hymn “Adoro te.” The final four measures are in E major, a key favored by Frescobaldi and other sixteenth-century composers for use during elevation toccatas.¹² The key of E and its cousin, the Phrygian mode, were traditionally used to express the mystical. The elevation represents the high point of the Mass at which time the celebrant elevates the host and chalice, having been transformed into the body and blood of Christ, so they may be adored by the congregation.¹³

The fourth movement, “Méditation: Communion,” was intended to be played as the congregation receives communion. It is based on two chants: “Ubi caritas,” an antiphon traditionally sung during the washing of the feet on Holy Thursday, but also appropriate as a Eucharistic hymn; and a second Eucharistic hymn, “Jesu dulcis memoria.” Langlais unifies the emergence of these themes with a sixteenth-note motive in multiple keys.

“Acclamations: Sur le texte des acclamations Carolingiennes” is the dramatic postlude of the suite. Langlais uses fragments of the ancient Roman chant “Laudes Regiae” from the Carolingian Acclamations, a hymn historically sung at solemn occasions and adopted by the Holy Roman Emperor, Charlemagne. The melody for the words “Christus vincit” repeats six times in the pedal in alternation with the phrase “Exaudi Christi” from the same chant. Langlais adds two more chant fragments, “Christus regnat” and “Christus imperat,” and repeats them employing an ascending harmonic pattern he often used to create tension. Similarly, the manuals play the “Christus vincit” theme first in F, then in G, and finally in A, to which the pedal responds with “Christus imperat” first in F, then F-sharp and then G. Langlais concludes by introducing a pedal carillon of C–F–G–D played in long notes against the “Christus vincit” theme stated in manual octaves. Marie-Louise Langlais notes that these final measures are reminiscent of the bells of Reims Cathedral, where French kings were crowned during the Medieval period.¹⁴

Langlais’ reaction to the Second Vatican Council

As early as 1900, French clergy began holding grassroots meetings to study the Church’s handling of religious expression, particularly with regard to participation of the congregation at Mass.¹⁵ By 1945 this populist movement became known as Catholic Action, and its followers known as the “new liturgists.”¹⁶ At the heart of the new liturgists’ agenda was the democratization of the liturgy brought about partly through changing the musical context of the Mass. Other clergy and most professional musicians saw the new liturgists as a threat to the traditional practice of church music. The new liturgists championed simple, approachable music that favored congregational singing and the use of the vernacular rather than Latin. Furthermore, many in favor of liturgical reform sought to also diminish the role of both the organ and chant.

Langlais was distraught by the changes the new liturgists brought to the Mass. He regarded these changes as a departure from the artistic mission of the Church and wrote:¹⁷

All religious composers, of which I am one, are deeply discouraged by this movement, which is the negation of art. In my opinion nothing is beautiful enough for God. Our forebears knew this and held that to pray surrounded by beauty was central to worship.

The new liturgist movement reached its peak during the Second Vatican Council. In December 1963, the council issued the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Initially the constitution alleviated the concerns of the professional musicians by declaring the musical tradition of the Church as “a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art.”¹⁸ While the council supported the use of Gregorian chant and polyphony, it also seemed to support the new liturgists by stating that “to promote active participation, the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalms, antiphons, hymns as well as by actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes. And at the proper time a reverent silence should be observed.”¹⁹ In the practical application of the constitution, it was the new liturgists that seemed to gain the upper hand.

In 1962, Langlais and other organists served on the French Episcopal Commission on Sacred Music, tasked with interpreting the Second Vatican Council’s new guidelines on liturgical music. A second group, the Commission of Expert Musicians, was formed in 1964 to supply new music to accompany the Propers that had been newly translated into French.

The role of the organ was a troublesome point in the new liturgy. Monsignor Maurice Rigaud, who acted as president of both the French Episcopal Commission on Sacred Music and the Commission of Expert Musicians, indicated that silence was to replace the use of the organ after the collect, at the offertory, at the elevation, and at communion; and in addition, that sung chant rather than the organ was the preferred method of balancing music with silence. The organists serving on both commissions lamented to Rigaud that there was nothing left for the organists to do during the Mass:²⁰

If the role of the organist is so reduced to this sort of humming in the background, in this role of “hole-filling” between two verses of songs in French and to serve as accompaniment for eventual new songs, one wonders . . . if it is now necessary to train young organists and to place them in careers that are reduced to such a farce, a career that is so long in its preparation, so costly, so laborious and difficult. One no longer even sees the necessity to maintain organ classes in our Conservatories and Schools of Music.

Musically, Langlais was slow to respond to Vatican II. Though initially supportive of attempts to write music for the new liturgy, Langlais became discouraged not only with the Commission of Expert Musicians’ tendency to favor the opinions of clergy over those of professional musicians but also with the low quality of new music that was admitted. In an interview with L’Est Républicain, Langlais was bold in his opinion of this new music, saying, “The goal of those who are currently writing religious songs is good, but the quality of the music is mediocre.”²¹

Langlais’ shameless musical response to Vatican II was his Trois Implorations, commissioned as the final organ exam piece at the Paris Conservatory in the spring of 1970. The third movement of the set, “Imploration pour la croyance,” expresses Langlais’ continued frustration with the Catholic Church. In his program notes Langlais writes, “The composer has tried to translate the state of the soul of a Christian in revolt against the current desacralizing atmosphere.”²² Langlais uses the chant intonation of the Credo from Masses I, II, and IV “Credo in unum Deum,” answered by staccato chord clusters with full organ as if in protest. The juxtaposition of chant and chord clusters continues until the piece finally ends with five staccato chords that use all twelve tones of the scale simultaneously. Marie-Louise Langlais writes that “Imploration pour la croyance” is Langlais’ way of shouting to the world, “I believe with all my strength, but with all my strength I also suffer from what I hear in the Church.”²³

Conclusion

Langlais represents the culmination of the Sainte Clotilde organist-composer tradition, which began with César Franck and continued with Charles Tournemire. His style represents a unique synthesis of twentieth-century compositional techniques, traditional influences, and theological commentary. His close personal and professional ties to the Catholic Church at a time when it was experiencing major changes significantly influenced his work.

One cannot understand Langlais’ music without considering his Catholicism. To appreciate Langlais’ “other-worldly” harmonies and diverse colors, it is important to understand the religious context that inspired his compositions. Langlais saw himself not just as a composer, but also as a theologian, whose role was to connect the faithful to God. Although Vatican II reforms have erased its original context, Suite médiévale remains an excellent representation of Langlais’ compositional style and techniques; with short movements, contrasting tone colors, and recognizable chant fragments, it is an exciting and convincing work that merits continued recognition in the organ repertory.

Notes

1. Orhpa Ochse, Organists and Organ Playing in Nineteenth-Century France and Belgium (Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1994), 127.

2. Marie-Louise Langlais, Jean Langlais Remembered (New York: American Guild of Organists, 2016), 136–137.

3. Stephen Schloesser, Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), 284.

4. Ibid.

5. Edward Zimmerman and Lawrence Archbold, “Why Should We Not Do the Same with Our Catholic Melodies?: Guilmant’s L’Organiste liturgiste, Op. 65,” in French Organ Music from the Revolution to Franck and Widor, ed. Lawrence Archbold and Willliam J. Peterson (New York: University of Rochester Press, 1995), 203.

6. Edward Schaefer, “Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique and Its Place in the Legacy of the Organ Mass,” in Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought, and Legacy of Charles Tournemire, ed. Jennifer Donalsen and Stephen Schloesser (Richmond, Virginia: Church Music Association of America, 2014), 40.

7. Langlais, Jean Langlais Remembered, 41.

8. Langlais published Suite brève and Suite médiévale in 1947, Suite française in 1948, and Hommage à Frescobaldi in 1951.

9. Schaefer, 31.

10. Langlais, Langlais Remembered, 133.

11. Langlais, Langlais Remembered, 145.

12. Willi Appel, The History of Keyboard Music to 1700 (Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1972), 478.

13. John Caldwell and Bonnie J. Blackburn, “Elevation,” In Grove Music Online (Oxford University Press, 2001).

14. Langlais, Langlais Remembered, 138.

15. Ann Labounsky, Jean Langlais: The Man and his Music (Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press, 2000), 211.

16. Labounsky, 211.

17. Labounsky, 214.

18. Anthony Ruff, Sacred Music and Liturgical Reform: Transformations and Treasures (Chicago, Hillenbrand Books, 2007), 314.

19. Labounsky, 219.

20. Labounsky, 226.

21. Labounsky, 229.

22. Labounsky, 272.

23. Langlais, Jean Langlais Remembered, 263.

Bibliography

Apel, Willi. The History of Keyboard Music to 1700. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1972.

Archbold, Lawrence and Edward Zimmerman, “Why Should We Not Do the Same with Our Catholic Melodies?: Guilmant’s L’Organiste liturgiste, Op. 65,” in French Organ Music from the Revolution to Franck and Widor, ed. Lawrence Archbold and William J. Peterson. Rochester, New York: University of Rochester Press, 1995.

Caldwell, John and Bonnie J. Blackburn. “Elevation,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline/ezproxy/lib/utah.edu/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000023373 (accessed March 22, 2019).

Darasse, Xavier, and Marie-Louise Jaquet-Langlais. “Jean Langlais,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/ezproxy.lib.utah.edu/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000023373 (accessed March 22, 2019).

Donelson, Jennifer, and Stephen Schloesser, ed. Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought and Legacy of Charles Tournemire. Richmond, Virginia: Church Music Association of America, 2014.

Labounsky, Ann. Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music. Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press, 2000.

Langlais, Jean. Suite médiévale en forme de messe basse. Paris: Éditions Salabert, 1950 (originally published 1947).

Langlais, Marie-Louise. Jean Langlais Remembered, trans. Bruce Gustafson. New York: American Guild of Organists, 2016.

Mahrt, Peter William. The Musical Shape of the Liturgy. Richmond, Virginia: Church Music Association of America, 2012.

Ochse, Orpha. Organists and Organ Playing in Nineteenth-Century France and Belgium. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1994.

Piunno, John. “Restoring Liturgy and Sacred Music in the Latin Roman Rite.” The American Organist 135, 4 (2010): 82–85.

Poterack, Kurt. “Vatican II and Sacred Music.” Sacred Music 125, 4 (1998): 5–19.

Rone, Vincent. “A Voice Cries Out in the Wilderness: The French Organ School Responds to the Second Vatican Council of the Catholic Church.” PhD diss., University of California, 2014.

Ruff, Anthony. Sacred Music and Liturgical Reform: Treasures and Transformations. Chicago, Illinois: Hillenbrand Books, 2017.

Schloesser, Stephen. Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005.

The Parish Book of Chant. Richmond, Virginia: Church Music Association of America, 2008.

Let All the World in Every Corner Sing: The Yale Institute of Sacred Music Celebrates Fifty Years

The Yale Institute of Sacred Music (ISM) is an interdisciplinary graduate center for the study and practice of sacred music, worship, and the related arts. Its students pursue degrees in choral conducting, organ, and concert voice with the Yale School of Music, or they engage in ministerial or academic studies in liturgy, religion and literature, music, or visual arts with the Yale Divinity School. The ISM is essentially a sequel to the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary (New York City), which lost its funding in the early 1970s and closed its doors. Robert Baker, then organist and dean of the School of Sacred Music at Union, relocated three faculty and one administrator from the Union school to Yale in New Haven, Connecticut, after securing funding from the Irwin-Sweeney-Miller foundation of Columbus, Indiana. This family foundation was headed by Clementine Miller Tangeman, whose late husband was a musicologist at Union, and her brother J. Irwin Miller, who was serving as senior trustee of the Yale Corporation. With its strong programs in divinity and music, Yale was deemed the perfect place to reconstitute a school or institute of sacred music. In 1973 inaugural director Robert Baker, together with chaplain and liturgical scholar Jeffery Rowthorn, musicologist Richard French, and administrator Mina Belle Packer, migrated to New Haven. After a year of intense preparation, the Yale ISM welcomed its first class of students: five in music and five in divinity. In 2024 the ISM celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of that momentous occasion.

The School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary

The roots of the ISM begin with Union Theological Seminary. Music was an important component of the curriculum at Union since its founding in 1836. That this ecumenical Protestant seminary held such value for music and the arts can trace some of its inspiration to Anglican and Roman Catholic instantiations of liturgical renewal stemming from the Oxford and Solemnes movements. Church musicians were regularly appointed to the theological faculty at Union to teach music history, hymnody, and related musical subjects to complement the theological education of seminarians.

In 1928 Clarence Dickinson (who had been teaching music to the seminarians at Union since 1912), together with his wife, Helen Snyder Dickinson, met with seminary president Henry Sloane Coffin to discuss establishing a separate entity at Union: a school of sacred music. This school would specifically train church musicians within the context of the seminary. Since the “joining of music and theology, of divinity students and music students, did not seem at variance with the Seminary’s history,” Union began admitting musicians into the seminary, granting them the degree Master of Sacred Music. One sees similarity of vision with that of the Schola Cantorum in Paris, founded by Dickinson’s teacher, Alexander Guilmant.

Clarence and Helen Dickinson were the quintessential interdisciplinary couple. Clarence was an organist, choir director, composer, and teacher whose profound influence earned him the moniker “Dean of American Church Musicians.” His wife Helen, the first woman to graduate with a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University, was an art and liturgical historian who taught alongside her husband at Union. Together they envisioned a curriculum in which the church musician would acquire not only musical skills, but also the theological and pastoral skills needed to successfully navigate the complex ministry of church music. The Dickinsons also understood the benefits of having musicians and clergy interact with each other at the seminary: “In such an atmosphere, the church musician . . . and the minister meet and train together in much the same way as they will work together in actual parish situations.” Interdisciplinary study and collaboration between clergy and musicians were hallmarks of the School of Sacred Music at Union, and it is upon this foundation that the Yale Institute of Sacred Music was built.

Early years at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music

The 1975 Bulletin of the Yale Divinity School includes a succinct description of the ISM: “The curriculum will lay particular stress upon organ playing, choral conducting, historical aspects of the church’s musical development, the liturgical framework of religious worship of all faiths, and practical musical techniques, and will be of a highly participatory nature.” Three early graduates of the program, however—Steven Roberts, Patricia Wright, and Walden Moore—paint a broader, more colorful picture of the nascent ISM and its early years. Steven Roberts was an organ student in the first class that arrived at the ISM in 1974; he later taught organ at Western Connecticut State University and was music director at Saint Peter Church in Danbury before retiring to Bolivia. Patricia Wright was also an inaugural organ student at the ISM, receiving her Master of Musical Arts degree in 1976 and Doctor of Musical Arts degree in 1982. An adjunct organ professor at the University of Toronto, Wright was director of music at Toronto’s Metropolitan United Church, where she played Canada’s largest pipe organ for thirty-five years before retiring in 2022. Walden Moore came to the ISM in 1978. Not long after graduating in 1980, he was appointed organist and choirmaster of Trinity Church on the Green, New Haven. Although Moore retired from Trinity in 2024 after forty years of distinguished service, he and composer/organist Mark Miller continue to teach service playing to organists at the ISM. These three remarkable church musicians share common threads in reminiscing about their time at the ISM in the 1970s: the importance of interdisciplinary study, the emphasis on church music, and the benefits of studying at one of the great research institutions of the world.

Interdisciplinary study in the 1970s primarily involved the study of worship and liturgy. Wright and Roberts both highlight the importance of Jeffery Rowthorn’s liturgy class, Wright going so far as to describe the course as “life changing.” In many ways, it is this study of worship and liturgy—that is, the church at prayer—that unites the musician, seminarian, and scholar. Liturgical studies has become a part of the very DNA of the ISM; it was inherited from the School of Sacred Music at Union, and continues to play a seminal role in the work of the ISM today.

When director Robert Baker brought the ISM to Yale, the School of Music already had an established and prestigious program in organ performance led by university organist Charles Krigbaum. Baker added to the mix an emphasis specifically on training organists for work in the church. Roberts recalls that “Dr. Baker taught me about being a church musician, not just an organist.” Wright remembers Baker teaching conducting from the console. Students were taught the art of leading congregational song and accompanying anthems. Moreover, Baker encouraged students to learn this craft from multiple experts. Moore recalls the director sending him to observe Vernon de Tar on a Sunday morning at Church of the Ascension in New York. Moore was so impressed with this experience that he always welcomed ISM students to observe his program at Trinity.

Yale added a more rigorous academic vision to what had been offered at Union, says Moore, and organists took full advantage of all that Yale had to offer. Roberts took courses on Scarlatti and Couperin with harpsichordist Ralph Kirkpatrick; Wright studied Schenkerian analysis with Allen Forte. Trips to the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library were commonplace. With a profusion of courses and resources at their fingertips, organists were able to tailor their education to their specific interests while acquiring a solid grounding in church music. “It was up to us organ students to take advantage of the myriad of opportunities Yale afforded us,” says Wright. The opportunities have only increased over time.

The Institute of Sacred Music today

The ISM has grown exponentially over the past fifty years; the original community of three faculty and ten students now numbers well over a hundred individuals. Successive directors have expanded the program. John Cook (1984–1992) created a robust program in religion and the arts at the ISM, a development that undoubtedly would have delighted Helen Dickinson. Under Margot Fassler (1994–2004), the music program expanded from organ and choral conducting to include a major in early vocal music and oratorio (James Taylor, program coordinator). Current director Martin Jean (2005–) has fostered a fellowship program in which international scholars and practitioners join the ISM community for an academic year to further their work while collaborating with the ISM community. Together with the Divinity School, Jean also launched an interdisciplinary program in Music and the Black Church (Braxton Shelley, program director).

An abundance of courses awaits organ students admitted to the ISM. In addition to weekly instruction in organ performance from Martin Jean and/or James O’Donnell, students are invited to lessons and masterclasses with visiting artists. Church music skills, originally taught by Robert Baker during lessons, now include courses in choral conducting (Felicia Barber), liturgical keyboard skills (Walden Moore and Mark Miller), and improvisation (Jeffrey Brillhart). Musicological study has expanded to include both historical musicology (Markus Rathey) and ethnomusicology (Bo kyung Blenda Im). Offerings in liturgical studies comprise courses in historical and contemporary issues taught by an expanding and increasingly diverse faculty. Students wishing to broaden their knowledge in religion and the arts can take courses in religious poetry, architectural history, and other related arts.

Ten concert and liturgical choirs are supported by the ISM, the newest of which is the Yale Consort, a group of professional vocalists who sing evening liturgies (Choral Evensong or Vespers) in local parishes under the direction of James O’Donnell. Organ students accompany these services, acquiring liturgical service playing skills in a unique pedagogical setting from one of the world’s finest and most recognized church musicians.

International study tours, typically every other year, take the entire ISM student body around the globe to study the ways in which sacred arts are manifested in areas of the world not our own. The organ faculty often extend the study tour for their students, to allow them to visit and play the significant organs of the region.

In recent years the ISM has offered a week-long summer Organ Academy, in which advanced undergraduate organ students study with some of the nation’s top organists. Participating students receive daily lessons and attend workshops and recitals, all while interacting with their peers from around the country.

What began as Robert Baker’s humble continuation of the noble interdisciplinary program at Union has blossomed into an extensive program of sacred music, religion, and the arts at one of the world’s leading research institutions. As the ISM celebrates fifty years at Yale, Robert Baker’s stately anthem on the hymn text “Let all the world in every corner sing” provides an apt motto. The interdisciplinary, ecumenical, and expansive vision of the ISM, shaped by faculty, students, performers, and fellows, is indeed one in which all the world in every corner sings. May this glorious vision continue for many years to come.

Organ professors at Yale, 1973 to the present 

Charles Krigbaum had already been at Yale for fifteen years when the Institute of Sacred Music arrived in 1973. His legacy at Yale includes acquiring the Rudolf von Beckerath organ for Dwight Chapel (1971), premiering the newly discovered Neumeister Chorales of Bach in Battell Chapel (1985), and recording the organ works of Widor and Messiaen on the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall.

An advocate of the organ reform movement, Krigbaum was well versed in all organ music, his seminars covering composers from Titelouze to Tournemire. He promoted well-roundedness, so that students who came to him with a solid background in the North German Organ School left with an admiration for Widor, and those with knowledge of the Romantic schools left with appreciation for Scheidt.

A student of Clarence Dickinson at the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary, Robert Baker was the quintessential church musician. In addition to teaching the standard organ literature, he instructed students in the practical skills of the church musician. Baker loved the Newberry Memorial Organ and enjoyed teaching in the Romantic style. He would tell his students to always include a “gum drop” (something sweet that people will enjoy) in every recital. Baker’s arrival at Yale complemented the organ performance program directed by Charles Krigbaum.

Thomas Murray came to Yale in 1981 from the Cathedral of Saint Paul in Boston. An organ student of Clarence Mader at Occidental College, Murray became one of the most renowned and field-changing organists of the second half of the twentieth century. He is best known for his interpretation and transcriptions of the Romantic repertoire. He has concertized around the globe, and his multiple recordings have earned him universal acclaim.

On the Newberry Organ at Yale, Murray taught students the art of registering exhilarating crescendos and dramatic diminuendos. His transcriptions often required manipulation of two enclosed divisions at the same time to gracefully bring out a melody. The Newberry Organ, however, was not merely a symphonic organ for Murray; his teaching of the other Romantic repertoire, whether Rheinberger or Mendelssohn, was most authoritative. Indeed, he brings integrity to every musical style and period.

Martin Jean joined the Yale faculty in 1997. A self-professed generalist, Jean brought with him particular expertise in the north and central European Protestant organ repertories but also sustained a love for the French symphonists. With an earnest interest in historic performance, Jean led the project with Thomas Murray and Margot Fassler that resulted in the meantone organ (Opus 55) of Taylor & Boody in Marquand Chapel. Jean accrued some formal training in theological studies, which made him a natural partner at the ISM.

James O’Donnell came to Yale in 2022 after a forty-year career leading two of the most prominent London choral foundations. As organist and master of the choristers at Westminster Abbey, he presided over such state occasions as the wedding of Katherine Middleton and Prince William, which was broadcast to millions. One of his final acts in London was to lead the music for the funeral liturgy of Queen Elizabeth II, which 4.6 billion people were said to have heard, comprising arguably the largest single broadcast audience in history for an event featuring classical music. An internationally acclaimed concert artist, O’Donnell is a model for many students at the ISM: organist, conductor, liturgical musician.

The pipe organs at Yale

The Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall ranks among the finest symphonic organs in the world. The original instrument was built by the Hutchings-Votey Organ Company in 1902. Expanded in 1915 by J. W. Steere & Sons, it was rebuilt and expanded again in 1928 by Skinner Organ Company, all through the generosity of the Newberry family. University organist Harry Jepson, who played in the inaugural recital of the original build (it is reported that there were 3,000 people in attendance despite a drenching rainstorm) as well as both rebuilds, curiously programmed Franck’s Pièce Héroïque in all three recitals.

The final Skinner rebuild is a glorious four-manual Romantic organ with 142 stops, 197 ranks, and 12,641 pipes. While Romantic organs fell out of favor in the decades that followed, many such organs falling victim to replacement or alteration, the Newberry Organ remains in its original condition to this day, a stunning instrument lovingly maintained by the A. Thompson-Allen Company. (The Woolsey Hall organ is featured on the cover of the November 2016 issue of The Diapason.)

The 1951 Holtkamp organ in Battell Chapel is a fine example of the mid-twentieth-century Orgelbewegung. The main three-manual transept organ is complemented by a two-manual apse organ (one organ, two consoles). This organ was designed by university organist Luther Noss together with Walter Holtkamp. Yale’s organ curator, Joe Dzeda, recalls that during Sunday services at Battell Chapel, Noss would often play the prelude and postlude from the transept while assistant university organist H. Frank Bozyan would accompany the choir from the apse console. Built on the principles of low wind pressure, balanced registers, and exposed pipework, this three-manual organ has 71 ranks and 3,740 pipes.

In his History of the Yale School of Music, 1855–1970, Noss, who was later dean of the Yale School of Music, wrote: “With the availability of the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall, an outstanding example of the 19th- and 20th-century ‘romantic design,’ and the classic Holtkamp instrument in Battell Chapel, organ students at Yale would now have the rare and valuable opportunity of studying the organ literature of all periods on the appropriate instrument.” (The Battell Chapel organ is featured on page 1 of the June 1950 issue of The Diapason.)

H. Frank Bozyan was appointed instructor in organ in 1920 to assist Harry Jepson in teaching an organ class that averaged twenty-five students. At the time of his death in 1965, he was university organist and organ instructor emeritus. The three-manual, 54-rank Beckerath in Dwight Hall is named in honor of Bozyan’s forty-five years of dedication to the organ program at Yale. Charles Krigbaum, who followed Bozyan as university organist, had Rudolf von Beckerath design and build this colorful tracker. Notable stops include the Terzian, Trichterregal, and Rankett. Krigbaum adored this organ, presenting a series of five Bach recitals after its installation. Some fourteen years later, on March 21, 1985, Krigbaum, along with nine other organists from Yale and New Haven, performed an all-day Bach marathon to celebrate Bach’s 300th birthday. (The Dwight Chapel organ is featured on page 1 of the December 1971 issue of The Diapason.)

Thomas Murray, Professor Emeritus in the Practice of Organ, likes to speak of Yale’s collection of pipe organs as the “goodly heritage.” The most recent addition to this goodly heritage is the Charles Krigbaum Organ in Marquand Chapel. Martin Jean was the impetus behind this three-manual tracker in meantone temperament built by Taylor & Boody. Modeled on the 1683 Arp Schnitger organ in the St. Jacobi Kirche, Lüdingworth, this instrument is ideal for teaching early organ music. Its seventeenth-century design, however, does not preclude it from playing contemporary organ music; indeed, the ISM commissioned Matthew Suttor to compose a new work, Syntagma, which was premiered by Martin Jean in 2007 as part of its year-long celebration to welcome its newest pipe organ.

For further information

To explore the many opportunities at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, visit ism.yale.edu. For information about the various degree programs, contact admissions manager Loraine Enlow at [email protected]. For information about long- and short-term fellowships,  contact assistant director Eben Graves at [email protected].

—Glen J. Segger, Yale ISM ’95

Lecturer, Yale Divinity School

Fratelli Ruffatti, Padova, Italy; Notre Dame Seminary, New Orleans, Louisiana

Flexibility is the key

The new instrument for Notre Dame Seminary of New Orleans is a two-manual organ. In spite of its relatively moderate size, however, it is designed to be more flexible in its use than many of its three-manual counterparts. This is made possible primarily by the careful choice of stops and console controls by sacred music director Max Tenney in collaboration with the builder.

A notable and not-so-common feature is the division of the Grand-Orgue into two sections, unenclosed and enclosed. The first contains the principal chorus, based on a 16′ Principal, while the latter includes flutes, a Gemshorn with its Celeste, and a rather powerful reed. Versatility not only comes from graduating the volume of the enclosed stops, but goes well beyond. Let’s look at how this is accomplished.

Each section of the Grand-Orgue is equipped with its own set of sub and super couplers and a Unison Off. The unusual possibility of applying interdivisional couplers and Unison Off only to a few stops and of using them in conjunction with other non-coupled stops within the same manual offers new and exciting possibilities. As an example, the Great Trompette, which is only controlled by one stop knob at 8′ pitch, can be used at 16′, 8′, and 4′ (and under expression) with a non-coupled principal chorus.

The console controls include a Grand-Orgue Enclosed to Expressif Transfer, which can separate the two Grand-Orgue sections in a single motion, canceling the stops drawn on the first manual and transferring them to the second. The two Grand-Orgue sections, now located on separate keyboards, can be used in dialogue, one against the other. In addition, the transfer makes it possible to use the enclosed Grand-Orgue stops with the stops of the second manual, which are also under expression. Imagine the possibilities!

A further step toward the separation of the two Grand-Orgue sections is their separate set of couplers (at 8′ and 4′) to the Pedal. There are more controls to stimulate creativity, such as the Manual Melody coupler, the Grand-Orgue Trompette coupler, and the Pedal Divide.

The most important contribution to tonal flexibility, however, is the result of very careful choices of dimensions and manufacturing parameters of the pipes, which comes from decades of experience. Together with refined voicing techniques, a good blending of each stop in all traditional stop combinations is guaranteed. In addition, the performer can create registrations that are often considered unconventional but provide valid musical solutions to whatever challenges arise. With proper voicing and pipe dimensioning, a smaller instrument can display a tonal flexibility comparable to that of a much larger pipe organ.

Technically, the console has much to offer. In addition to quality tracker-touch keyboards (61 keys), a 32-note standard AGO pedalboard, and an ergonomic design, it is equipped with a very reliable and well-tested control panel, which is remarkable in many ways. It displays a user-friendly touchscreen—by a simple touch the organist can jump from one icon to the next to access different functions. The icons are many, but all are intuitive to put any organist at ease from the first experience.

The combination action, which includes both generals and divisionals, offers great flexibility. As is often the case with modern systems, organists can have their own dedicated “folders.” Password input is not needed to open them; a personalized magnetic “key” placed next to a sensor will allow access. The storing of combinations is made simple by giving them the name of the piece for which they were set (i.e., Widor Toccata). Further, a number of such pieces can be selected and grouped into concert folders, which can be given a name as well (i.e., Christmas Concert 2021).

—Francesco Ruffatti

Partner & Tonal Director

The organ case

Designing a new pipe organ is always an exciting process. Many things must be taken into account, both from the technical and the visual standpoints. Technically, it is always a challenge to make sure that every part is easily accessible, that every pipe is reachable for tuning, that the various divisions speak freely into the building, and that all technical elements fall into place properly. Visually, the design is the result of a combination of several aspects: the environment in which the organ is located, the client’s wishes, and the designer’s creativity.

The chapel at Notre Dame Seminary is not a large building, yet it is a place with high, vaulted ceilings and classical architectural design. The organ and the console find their place in the loft above the main door, where the choir will sing under the direction of music director and organist Max Tenney.

The casework was stipulated to be of classical design, with the largest pipes in the façade. Our approach to the design follows this criteria, but with a contemporary touch to it, in an effort to blend the classical style with features that belong to the 21st century. The case is divided into five bays, with the central bay capped by an arch, thus recalling the big central arch dividing the loft from the chapel. The side bays closest to the center have counter arches, which bring more emphasis to the central bay, while the bays to their sides are a natural conclusion to the organ case containing the smaller façade pipes.

The organ façade features a decorative element in front of the pipes, which enriches the design as a whole. This element develops from the top of the arched roofs next to the central bay and follows its curve, spanning through the three central bays. The decoration crosses in front of the central pipe and changes its curvature until it reaches the vertical columns, where it is replaced by gilded shadow gaps, and then continues on the low part of the side bays, matching the curvature of the pipe mouths of the outermost bays.

The case is finished with a white lacquer and is enriched by 24-carat gold leaf accents, to complement the interior scheme of the planned redecoration of the chapel, soon to be implemented.

—Michela Ruffatti

Architect & Design Director

The organ in liturgy

Rooted in the Documents of the Universal Church, the Teaching of the Supreme Pontiffs, the Directives of the Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments in the Vatican, as well as the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Secretariat on Divine Worship, together with the Norms for Spiritual Formation provided in the most recent edition (2022) of the Program for Priestly Formation, the Office of Sacred Music at Notre Dame Seminary seeks to provide the men in priestly formation with both a solid and comprehensive analysis, as well as a practical and methodological understanding of Liturgical Music, its role in service to the Sacred Liturgy, and the means by which the clear and consistent teaching of the Church on the subject might best be implemented throughout the dioceses and parishes in which these future priests will find themselves in the service of God’s Holy People.

These words have guided the Sacred Music Program at Notre Dame Seminary in the New Orleans Archdiocese since my arrival nearly a decade ago. Almost immediately the then-rector, the Very Reverend James A. Wehner, S.T.D., had begun a conversation with me about the organ in the seminary’s Chapel of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Möller organ had served admirably for nearly a century. It had even survived several attempts to alter its original tonal design, including the expansion of the instrument through the means of extensive unification, in addition to a revoicing. Also, during the decades following the Second Vatican Council, the instrument had been severely neglected, receiving almost no service in those years.

It was decided early on in those conversations that the organ needed to be replaced. The mandate was clear: to design an instrument worthy of Our Lady’s seminary, the largest theologiate in the American Church, that would competently and beautifully accompany the Church’s liturgies, including both the Holy Mass and the Divine Office. As the seminary grounds are located in the urban uptown neighborhood of the city of New Orleans, the chapel is in frequent demand by the archdiocese for various ceremonies, rites, and services that can be accommodated in the small nave seating only 175 persons. These realities guided my mind in planning a new instrument. Additionally, I wanted to provide an organ that would serve to inspire future priests not only in their daily prayer, but in the eventual reality that, God willing, they will one day serve as pastors in parishes across the Gulf south, and that they themselves might go on to commission similar instruments of such high quality for these parish communities in which they will serve.

The concept for the seminary organ—two manuals and pedal with two enclosed divisions and an unenclosed complete principal chorus—came about through the months and years of conversations with Francesco Ruffatti, tonal director of the firm. This idea would seem to deliver the most flexibility for our instrument. It was also through these discussions and because of my desire to honor the French patrimony of the city, archdiocese, and seminary, that our concept for a French-inspired instrument was developed. Francesco and Michela had previously spent much time surveying and studying several famous instruments by the builder Cavaillé-Coll in preparation for what has become one of the firm’s landmark organs—in Buckfast Abbey, Devon, U.K., which contains a French Gallery division. Our instrument here in New Orleans is largely influenced by that study.

As we have now completed the installation of the instrument and are in the process of voicing and tuning, we have begun using the instrument at liturgies. To say that the organ surpasses my every expectation would be a gross understatement: it literally sings in the room. It is possible to lead the entire seminary community with only the 8′ Montre. The rich harmonics seem to lift the voices high in the nave. The Gregorian chant Propers sung by the Seminary Schola Cantorum are beautifully accompanied by the Gemshorn. The sounds are truly gorgeous in every sense of the word.

This project would not have been possible without the incredible support of the Very Reverend Father James A. Wehner, S.T.D., Sixteenth Rector and Sixth President of Notre Dame Seminary. As well, profound thanks are due to the entire team at Fratelli Ruffatti, including Piero, Francesco, and Michela Ruffatti, Fabrizio Scolaro, Evgeny Arnautov, Nancy Daley, and Tim Newby.

—Max Tenney

Associate Professor, Organist and

Director of Sacred Music

Notre Dame Seminary

The Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New Orleans

Builder’s website: ruffatti.com

Seminary website: nds.edu

Cover photo by Steven Blackmon

Detail photos by Fratelli Ruffatti

 

GRAND-ORGUE Unenclosed Manual I

16′ Montre 61 pipes

8′ Montre 61 pipes

4′ Prestant 61 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Twelfth 61 pipes

2′ Doublette 61 pipes

1-3⁄5′ Seventeenth 61 pipes

2′ Fourniture III–V 264 pipes

Zimbelstern 12 bells

Sub Octave

Unison Off

Super Octave

GRAND-ORGUE Enclosed

16′ Bourdon (prep)*

8′ Flûte Harmonique 61 pipes

8′ Bourdon 61 pipes

8′ Gemshorn 61 pipes

8′ Gemshorn Celeste (TC) 49 pipes

4′ Flûte Octaviante 61 pipes

Tremblant for enclosed stops

8′ Cor de Wehner (Trompette de Fête) 61 pipes

Chimes (prep)*

Sub Octave

Unison Off

Super Octave

EXPRESSIF (Enclosed), Manual II

16′ Bourdon Doux (prep)*

8′ Stopped Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Viole de Gambe 61 pipes

8′ Viole Celeste (TC) 49 pipes

4′ Prestant 61 pipes

4′ Flûte de la Vierge 61 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Nasard 61 pipes

2′ Octavin 61 pipes

1-3⁄5′ Tierce 61 pipes

2′ Plein Jeu IV 244 pipes

16′ Basson-Hautbois 61 pipes

8′ Trompette Harmonique 61 pipes

8′ Hautbois (ext 16′) 12 pipes

Tremblant

8′ Cor de Wehner (Grand-Orgue)

Chimes (prep)*

Sub Octave

Unison Off

Super Octave

PÉDALE (Unenclosed)

32′ Contre Basse (prep)*

32′ Contre Bourdon (prep)*

32′ Resultant (from Soubasse 16′)

32′ Harmonics V (from Montre 16′ and Subbass 16′)

16′ Montre (Grand-Orgue)

16′ Soubasse 32 pipes

16′ Bourdon (Grand-Orgue)

16′ Bourdon Doux (Expressif)

8′ Basse 32 pipes

8′ Bourdon (ext 16′ Soubasse) 12 pipes

8′ Stopped Diapason (Expressif)

4′ Flûte (ext 16′ Soubasse) 12 pipes

32′ Contre Bombarde (prep)*

32′ Contre Basson (prep)*

16′ Bombarde 32 pipes

16′ Basson (Expressif)

8′ Trompette (ext 16′ Bomb.) 12 pipes

4′ Hautbois (Expressif)

8′ Cor de Wehner (Grand-Orgue)

Chimes (Expressif)

* console preparation for digital stop

50 speaking stops (including preparations and wired stops)

34 pipe ranks

1,970 pipes and 12 real bells

INTERDIVISIONAL COUPLERS

Expressif to Grand-Orgue 16, 8, 4

Grand-Orgue Enclosed to Expressif Transfer

Grand-Orgue Unenclosed to Pédale 8, 4

Grand-Orgue Enclosed to Pédale 8, 4

Expressif to Pédale 8, 4

Manual Melody Coupler

Grand-Orgue Cor de Wehner Coupler

COMBINATION ACTION

Generals 1–10

Grand-Orgue 1–6, Cancel

Expressif 1–6, Cancel

Pédale 1–6, Cancel

Set

General Cancel

Next (+) (multiple locations)

Previous (–)

All Generals Become Next (piston)

Divisional Cancels on stop jambs for each division

MIDI

MIDI Grand-Orgue

MIDI Expressif

MIDI Pédale

Pedal Divide 1

Pedal Divide 2

(Pedal divide configurations and dividing point are programmable from the touchscreen)

CANCELS (not settable)

Reeds Off

Mixtures Off

 

Zimbelstern

Tutti (Full Organ)

Expression for Expressif

Expression for Grand-Orgue Enclosed

All Swells to Expressif

Crescendo

CONSOLE CONTROL SYSTEM

The control panel is a 5.7-inch-wide color touchscreen.

Functions and features:

• Screen settings, language selection, date and time display, thermometer display

• Metronome

• Transposer, by 12 semitones either way

• Crescendo and Expressions bargraphs

• Crescendo sequences: standard and settable

• Crescendo Off

• Diagnostics

• “Open” memory containing up to 9,999 memory levels for the General pistons

• Additional 100 personalized folders, each containing up to 9,999 memory levels for the General pistons

• Access to the folders by password or by personal proximity sensor

• Up to 5 “insert” combinations can be included or cancelled between each General piston to correct errors or omissions while setting combination sequences

• Renumbering function for modified piston sequences

• All system data can be saved on USB drive.

• Display for combination piston and level in use

• Combination action sequences can be stored with the name of the piece, and pieces can be collectively grouped and saved into labelled “Concert” folders.

RECORD AND PLAYBACK

Export/import recordings with USB drive.

Godwin Sadoh

Godwin Sadoh is a Nigerian ethnomusicologist, composer, church musician, pianist, organist, choral conductor, and scholar with over a hundred publications to his credit, including twelve books. His compositions have been performed and recorded worldwide. In 2004 at Louisiana State University, Baton Rouge, Sadoh distinguished himself as the first African to earn a doctoral degree in organ performance from any institution in the world. He has taught at several institutions including the Obafemi Awolowo University, the University of Pittsburgh, and the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. He is presently professor of music/LEADS Scholar at the National Universities Commission, Abuja, Nigeria. Sadoh’s biography is listed in Who’s Who in America, Who’s Who in American Education, and Who’s Who in the World.

An important event in the history of church music in Nigeria was observed in 2018. It connotes longevity and continuity as we celebrate the centenary of the oldest choral group in Nigeria (1918–2018), which finds its home in the oldest Anglican cathedral in Nigeria, the Cathedral Church of Christ, Marina, Lagos. The history of the Cathedral Choir began in 1895, when Reverend Robert Coker inaugurated the first Anglican choir in the country. The centenary is associated with the first choir festival celebrated on November 23, 1918, under the mantle of the progenitor, Thomas Ekundayo Phillips. Since then, the choir’s anniversary has been celebrated around this period on the Sunday nearest to Saint Cecilia’s Day in November each year. The choir has gone through several phases in the hands of organists and choirmasters, without losing its standard, tradition, fervor, ethics, and focus on cathedral liturgy and challenging musical heritage.

Singing has always been an integral part of worship at the Cathedral Church of Christ since its inception in 1867. It is referenced that the first organist, Robert A. Coker, just before his appointment as organist, was sent to England to expand his knowledge of church music in order to inaugurate a choir suitable for Christ Church, to be second to none in Nigeria. The choir was expected to be able to sing in a manner worthy of being regarded as a model by other churches. The initial choir set up by Coker comprised women and men. It was later reorganized during the ministry of Reverend Hamlyn, who replaced the women with boys and young men. The present choristers, comprising several choirboys together with the gentlemen of the choir who sing alto, tenor, and bass, continue this tradition of singing into the twenty-first century, providing music at worship services and other occasions throughout the year. The choir also reaches out to a wider audience by singing in live radio broadcasts during Easter and Christmas seasons, and also through their compact disc recordings. The basis of the choir’s ministry is the regular singing at cathedral services, but there are other activities, including choir feasts, picnics, as well as frequent concert appearances in the cathedral and other venues.

Repertoire 

The Cathedral Church of Christ Choir is one of the most respected choral groups in Nigeria and throughout the continent of Africa. It is particularly noted for its wide range of liturgical repertoire, which forms the bedrock of weekly worship in the excellent acoustics of the Gothic cathedral. The repertoire is similar to that of any typical English cathedral choir. It primarily reflects the seasons of the liturgical year, with plainsong antiphons and hymns, challenging festival anthems, and more flamboyant Eucharistic settings, such as Alan Wilson’s Mass Of Light and Mozart’s Mass in B-flat, in addition to the daily music. The repertoire encompasses a broad range of styles and compositions ranging from plainchant to classical, African-American spirituals, contemporary American praise choruses, and Nigerian indigenous gospel music.

The Cathedral Choir repertoire ranges from Orlando Gibbons anthems, motets, and madrigals to Herbert Howells’s strong individuality, to Edward Elgar’s combination of nobility and spirituality of utterance with a popular style. The choir has always incorporated the works of some indigenous Nigerian composers, mainly ex-choristers and present musicians of the Cathedral Church. Among the composers whose music still enriches the repertoire of the choir are the father of Nigerian church music, Thomas Ekundayo Phillips, whose indigenous sacred Yoruba compositions are often heard in the cathedral, and Fela Sowande, whose Responses in English are still sung regularly at Matins and Evensong. Other notable composers include Ayo Bankole, Samuel Akpabot, and Godwin Sadoh.

The choir is polyglot, performing works mainly in English, but occasionally singing in other European languages such as Latin as well as in the Yoruba dialect during special diocesan services of the Anglican Synod, combined mass choir or the augmented choir events,1 and Evensong. In recent years, it has given a few performances of some major works in the cathedral including Felix Mendelssohn’s St. Paul in November 2008 at its ninetieth anniversary concert, and Handel’s Messiah in December of that year. Some other major works that the Cathedral Choir has performed in the past include Handel’s Judas Maccabaeus in 1998, at the Musical Society of Nigeria (MUSON), Lagos, for its eightieth anniversary, Haydn’s The Creation in April 2001, and Johann Sebastian Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.

As the premier choir in Nigeria, Cathedral Church of Christ Choir has played a major role in shaping the direction and development of church music in Nigeria especially in the Anglican Communion. The choir’s work is felt not only in the Anglican Church, but in other denominations as well. The annual choir festivals, Advent carol services, Festival of Lessons and Carols, classical music concerts, choir feasts, and picnics continue to attract choristers and music enthusiasts from the Methodist, Baptist, Catholic, Charismatic, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Reformed, African, Evangelical, and non-denominational churches such as Pentecostals, from different parts of the southwest region of Nigeria. The choir connects American culture with Nigeria through the use of spirituals in the compositions of its ex-choristers and their musical training in American universities, primarily Fela Sowande.

Organists and masters of the music

The choir has been trained and directed by musicians such as Robert Coker, Thomas Ekundayo Phillips (1884–1969), Charles Obayomi Phillips (1919–2007), Olayinka Sowande (Fela Sowande’s younger brother), Tolu Obajimi, and presently, Babatunde Sosan (b. 1975). From the late nineteenth century to the present, those at the helm of music ministries at the cathedral have been skillful and talented.

Apart from the weekly routine of choir practices in preparation for Sunday worship, the master of the music and choirmasters are responsible for preparing the choir for concerts that feature repertoires of sacred choral, instrumental, and organ pieces. The concert performances are in the form of the annual choir festival, Advent carol service, Festival of Lessons and Carols, Easter cantata, Christmas concert, and various other concerts throughout the year.

Most of the music used for worship is by British composers: John Ireland, William Byrd, John Stainer, Bernard Rose, David Willcocks, John Rutter, Ralph Vaughan Williams, Samuel Wesley, Thomas Attwood, Charles Villiers Stanford, Malcolm Archer, George Thalben-Ball, Sydney Nicholson, Herbert Howells, Hubert Parry, Edward Elgar, Eric Thiman, Healey Willan, Walford Davies, Edward Bairstow, William Harris, Orlando Gibbons, Martin Shaw, William Boyce, William Matthias, Robert Cooke, and Charles Stanley. However, compositions from other European nationalities are occasionally incorporated into worship, including works of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Vivaldi, Liszt, Widor, Alain, and Schubert.2

The cathedral has been served by three generations of the Phillips family as organists and masters of the music. Ekundayo Phillips’s tenure was the longest, spanning forty-eight years (1914–1962). His son, Obayomi Phillips, served for thirty years (1962–1992). Tolu Obajimi occupied the same position for two decades (1993–2013). Olayinka Sowande spent the least amount of time in office, July to December 1992. The reason for the short term was that as the sub-organist to Obayomi Phillips for several years, he was next in line for promotion to the position of master of the music; thereafter the Cathedral Church gave him the position in 1992. However, old age did not permit Sowande to stay longer than six months in the position as he was already an octogenarian. Time and circumstances will determine the length of Babatunde Sosan’s tenure.

Choir training

The outstanding musical standard of the Cathedral Choir today reflects the models established by Thomas Ekundayo Phillips. Some of the ideals instituted by Phillips included strict discipline, clarity of diction and pronunciation, regular and punctual attendance at choir practices, correct interpretation of notes, voice balance, articulation, attack, comportment, reverence in worship, and utmost sense of good musicianship. As a pedantic choir director, his expectations were very high and certainly demanding, but the choir always rose to his standard and taste. Ekundayo Phillips’s philosophy toward choral training cannot be overemphasized. He would detect and correct any musical snag such as faulty notes emanating from any section of the choir. Ekundayo Phillips would also call to order any chorister who did not hold his music book correctly, such as covering his face with it or placing it on his lap while seated.

Before a choirboy or man can be admitted into the choir to sing in Sunday worship, he first goes through the rigorous probationary period that normally lasts several months. In the case of the choirboys, their probationary period lasts eight months, while probation for those who wish to join the choir as adults to sing alto, tenor, or bass is three months. The author remembers his probationary period in 1980 while still in high school. He attended the choir practices on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, but on Sundays would sit in the congregation for worship and was not allowed to sing with the choir until the three months of probation was completed. Whenever the young neophytes complete their probation, they are formally admitted into the Cathedral Choir at a special service in which their parents assist them to put on the white surplice over the black cassock. The induction ceremony is always a moment of joy and pride for the parents.

Choir ministry

The choir leads the congregation every Sunday in hymn singing, responses (antiphonal prayers set to music), special settings of liturgical music such as Venite, Benedictus, Te Deum, Nunc dimittis, Magnificat, Jubilate, and settings of the Eucharist. The master of the music uses the choir to teach the congregation new hymns, service music, and songs. This is realized by the choir first singing all verses of a hymn as an anthem on a Sunday, while the congregation is asked to sing along the following Sunday. Occasionally the choir sings several verses before the congregation joins. The Cathedral Church of Christ proves to be an inclusive culturally blended congregation in terms of hymnals used for worship. The church exemplifies the nature of an interdenominational faith-based organization with the use of hymnbooks from diverse churches. The hymnals used for worship include Hymns Ancient and Modern, Hymns Ancient and Modern Revised, Songs of Praise, Methodist Hymn Book, Hymnal Companion, Baptist Hymnal, Saint Paul’s Cathedral Psalter, Church Hymnal, Alternative Service Book, New English Hymnal, Redemption Hymnal, Broadman Hymnal, Sacred Songs and Solos, More Hymns for Today, American contemporary praise choruses found in Songs for Refreshing Worship, and indigenous hymns written by Ekundayo Phillips as well as other members of the choir.

Concert performances

There are other times in the year that the Cathedral Choir performs concerts in and outside of the church. Oratorios, cantatas, and orchestral works have been performed by the choir such as Mendelssohn’s Elijah in 1989, as well as Hymn of Praise and Saint Paul; Bach’s Christmas Oratorio in 1953; Coleridge-Taylor’s Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast; Handel’s Judas Maccabaeus and Ode on Saint Cecilia’s Day performed in 1998; Haydn’s Creation; Stainer’s Daughter of Jairus and Crucifixion performed in 1916; Davies’s The Temple; and Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance performed by the Cathedral Church of Christ Choir Orchestra at the eightieth anniversary of the choir on November 22, 1998. On March 20, 2016, the Musical Society of Nigeria (MUSON), in collaboration with the cathedral, presented Fauré’s Requiem, featuring the MUSON Choir, Cathedral Choir, MUSON Chamber Orchestra, and MUSON Ensemble.

These concerts featured solos, choral, and instrumental music. The events often attract dignitaries, professional musicians, and students from far and near. The venues of the concerts include the Cathedral Church, Glover Memorial Hall, Musical Society of Nigeria (MUSON) Center, and other concert halls in Lagos.

Some of the concerts were specifically organized to raise funds for either the Cathedral Church or to buy a new organ. For instance, Ekundayo Phillips embarked on a concert tour with his choir to Abeokuta on August 24, 1930, and later to Ibadan, to raise funds to build a new pipe organ for the Cathedral Church. In these concerts, the Cathedral Choir performed mostly Ekundayo Phillips’s Yoruba songs to the delight of the indigenes of southwest Nigeria. The concerts were a success because the choir alone was able to raise more than half the cost of the organ.

In 1927, Ekundayo Phillips went as far as England to appeal to British congregations for money to build a pipe organ. He was able to raise a substantial amount through the successful rendition of some of his Yoruba compositions by Saint George’s Church Choir on October 23, 1927. The Yoruba songs were recorded by H. N. V. Gramophone Company in London, while the royalties from the sales of the recording were all given to the Cathedral Church of Christ, for the purchase of an organ in 1932.

The Cathedral Choir has performed for numerous dignitaries. The group performed before the British royal family, first in April 1921 at the cornerstone laying ceremony of the Cathedral Church of Christ, by His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. In January 1956, the choir performed before Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip, when they worshiped at the Cathedral Church; and finally, on October 2, 1960, at the Independence Day service of Nigeria, attended by Her Royal Highness, Princess Alexandra. On an Advent Sunday in 1972, the Cathedral Choir performed with the King’s College Cambridge Choir, during their visit to Nigeria. The first broadcast by the Cathedral Choir on the British Broadcasting Corporation was aired on December 12, 1951.

Compact disc recordings

The Cathedral Choir’s work has not been restricted to only live performances at services and concerts. The choir has recorded some of its favorite works to reach out to the wider church music community. During the tenure of Thomas Ekundayo Phillips, the choir recorded two of his songs, Emi O Gbe Oju Mi S’Oke Wonni (I Will Lift Up My Eyes to the Hills—Psalm 121) and Ise Oluwa (The Work of the Lord) for the
BBC series, Church Music from the Commonwealth. In 2006, the choir released its first compact disc set, Choral Music: Volumes I & II. The two CDs contain a selection of hymns, anthems, psalms, Te Deum, and Jubilate that the Cathedral Choir has sung over decades. Composers of the selected works as usual were mostly British with the exception of the Cathedral Choir musicians, in particular, Thomas Ekundayo Phillips, Modupe Phillips, Obayomi Phillips, Soji Lijadu, Fela Sowande, Olusina Ojemuyiwa, Yinka Sowande, and Babatunde Sosan.

Conclusion

In spite of the stability and loyalty to the Anglican worship system, the music ministry at the Cathedral Church of Christ has gone through a transformation to conform with modern trends in Nigeria. The middle of the 1980s chronicles the emergence of the Neo-Pentecostal-Evangelical churches and university campus Christian fellowships all over the country. These were largely driven by an American innovation of worship and evangelistic methodologies. Hence, singing in those arenas is characterized by the adoption of contemporary American praise choruses. The new churches have been founded primarily by Nigerian pastors trained in American seminaries and Bible schools. The pastors, at the completion of their training in the United States, returned to Nigeria to establish an experiential worship that mirrored what they had been exposed to in the United States. Other factors that paved the way for the proliferation of American influences were the abundance of sermons and songs on audio and video recordings, praise chorus hymnbooks with staff notation, and Christian literature sold in local religious bookstores. These influences are interwoven into various strands of worship that undisputedly distinguish the new churches from the well-established Protestant churches such as the Anglican, Baptist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, and Methodist denominations.

On a final note, twenty-first-century congregational singing at the Cathedral Church of Christ is indeed a commixture of traditional hymns and contemporary American praise choruses, a tuneful blending of the American and the British influences. At each service, each congregant’s musical taste is met through the appropriation of a pluralistic worship. It is not only the indigenous members that are being catered to, but also visiting European and American worshippers who comfortably feel at home in the Cathedral Church of Christ with this type of multi-cultural musical repertoire. While all these evolutions continue, the Cathedral Choir and its musicians have painstakingly endeavored to maintain a befitting exceptional musical standard that it is reputed as a role model for other choirs, thereby preserving the legacies of the founding fathers of the choir, namely, Robert Coker, Thomas Ekundayo Phillips, and Charles Obayomi Phillips.

The Cathedral Church of Christ, Lagos, website: https://www.thecathedrallagos.org

Notes

1. Combined Mass Choir or Augmented Choir is a choral outfit comprising of about a hundred voices made up of choristers from various Anglican churches in Lagos.

2. This essay is derived from the author’s book, The Centenary of the Cathedral Church of Christ Choir, Lagos (Columbus, Ohio: GSS Publications, 2018).

Thomas Fielding

Organist and composer Thomas Fielding is director of music for the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist and music coordinator for the Office of Worship, Diocese of Cleveland, Ohio. He is a 2007 doctoral degree graduate of the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music, where his principal teacher was Christopher Young. Previous studies were with Martin Jean and Robert A. Hobby. Fielding has taken first prize in the national Arthur Poister (Syracuse, New York) and San Marino (California) performance competitions, has won several national composition prizes, has been the recipient of several full-tuition scholarship awards at Indiana University and, as an undergraduate, won several music prizes offered by his alma mater Valparaiso University. He has played recitals on some of the world’s finest instruments, including two appearances at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, England. His scholarly work has been featured in The American Organist and The Tracker magazines. He was for four years the dean of the Central North Carolina Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.

As an active and commissioned composer, Dr. Fielding’s works appear in the catalogs of Choristers’ Guild, GIA Publications, Selah, E. C. Schirmer, and Paraclete Press. His works have been performed by soloists, choirs, and orchestras throughout the United States, Canada, Europe, and Asia in addition to the 2016 American Guild of Organists national convention in Houston, Texas. His compositions also have been broadcast on National Public Radio on both Weekend Edition and Pipedreams. For more information, visit thomasfielding.com.

Introduction

Esquisses Byzantines and Carillon-Sortie are the two most frequently performed works by the enigmatic French composer Henri Mulet (1878–1967). A dedication printed on the front page of the score of Esquisses Byzantines refers to the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur perched high on Montmartre in Paris. The typical interpretation of this cycle views Esquisses Byzantines as an external tribute to the empirical structure of the basilica; however, only the first five of the suite’s ten movements illustrate the architectural features of the building. The final five allude to different aspects of customs and rituals at the basilica. Curiously, the last two movements have Latin rather than French titles.

Mulet added four inscriptions referred to as “mottos” that strongly suggest a philosophical agenda. He finished the composition in 1908, but for no recorded or anecdotal reason did not publish the work until 1920. The first motto contains the dates 1914–1919. This suggests that the mottos were added at the time of publication.

From 1894 until 1940, a time when art and politics were entwined, ideologies and music in France were inseparable.¹ Jane Fulcher notes that composers “were indeed intellectuals, deeply engaged with public issues, symbols, and ideologies, and their evolution in this period cannot be explained by ‘pure’ stylistic development, or sporadic influence from other arts.”² Mulet was just such an intellectual, and his Esquisses Byzantines is a product of this movement.

The Archdiocese of Paris built Sacré-Coeur Basilica for specific theological and political reasons that are embodied in the towering motto that dominates the apse of the building. Because of their magnitude, two words stand out: Gallia Poenitens (France repents). Ideologically, the construction of Sacré-Coeur was an act of reparation for the sins of France committed during the 1789 Revolution and the 1870 Franco-Prussian War. Even though Mulet composed Esquisses Byzantines in 1908, he may have published it in 1920 to celebrate both the dedication of the basilica and the Allied victory in World War I. To fully understand the ideology of Esquisses Byzantines, an examination of the history of France’s love affair with the Sacred Heart of Jesus is called for.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in France

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is rooted in the concept of Christ’s humanity and the five glorious wounds of his Passion. Minor rituals dedicated to the Sacred Heart were found in late Medieval monastic writings. These became widely popular as a result of the visions of Saint Marguerite-Marie Alacoque (1648–1690), a French nun and mystic. At age 23, Alacoque entered Visitation Convent at Paray-le-Monial. Early in her novitiate, she had visions of the Sacred Heart pierced by a lance for the world’s sins and surmounted by a flame of love. Replete with the drama of Baroque piety, God’s message, sent to the world through Alacoque, was that of a vengeful deity seeking reparation and atonement for the numerous sins of France. These transgressions included material extravagance, moral decadence, and the apostasy of Protestantism. At one point, Alacoque received a vision of three demands of the Sacred Heart that needed to be fulfilled before France could receive abundant blessings from the Lord:
• France, through its king, should be consecrated to the Sacred Heart;
• an edifice should be built for this purpose;
• this historic compact should be recorded on the royal insignia.3

The first test of her prophecy occurred in June 1720, when the merchant ship Grand Saint-Antoine arrived in the port at Marseille. Despite the standard forty-day quarantine imposed on foreign ships, the bubonic plague spread from the ship and ravaged the city. By December, 50,000 people had died. The diocesan bishop, Henri François Xavier de Belsunce de Castelmoron (1671–1755), was well known for his love of public religious spectacles such as large-scale pilgrimages and massive processions. In the plague’s arrival, he saw God’s displeasure with the people of Marseille. In November and December Belsunce staged several penitential cortèges, and by spring 1721 deaths had fallen dramatically.

The plague was an invitation to penitence sent by an angry God whose patience with crime, heresy, and sin had been tested and exceeded. The Sacred Heart of Jesus was the best recourse, according to Belsunce, and his consecration of the city of Marseille to the Sacred Heart was the correct spiritual initiative to take in the face of the plague. The Sacré-Coeur had driven the plague from Marseille.⁴

When the plague returned in 1722 Belsunce cited ongoing moral corruption as its cause. The city’s principal governors again consecrated Marseille to the Sacred Heart on May 28. By autumn the plague had disappeared from the city. Marseille became the paragon for Catholic France of the power found in devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The French Church experienced a far greater trial in the Revolution of 1789. Revolutionaries slaughtered scores of Catholic clergy and religious. For the Catholic Counter-Revolution, this civil disturbance was nothing less than another chapter in the ongoing war between good and evil.

For some, the religious policy of the Revolution was sure to bring down divine chastisement, for others, the Revolution was itself a chastisement. Profanations and wicked exaltations were the signs by which they recognized in the Revolution an evil of terrifying and unsurpassed strength.⁵

The demands made by God to Alacoque had not yet been fulfilled, and Catholic France was suffering for it. Meanwhile, the Catholic Counter-Revolution, fueled largely by rural conservatives, embraced the Sacred Heart of Jesus as its symbol. Convents and pious families churned out embroidered Sacred Heart emblems by the tens of thousands, and several militant priestly orders dedicated to the Sacred Heart were formed. “. . . The Sacré-Coeur emerged as the devotion and the image of Catholic resistance to the scourge of the Revolution.”⁶

Once the Revolution was over, nineteenth-century France struggled to determine which political system would best serve it. Political regimes and forms of government changed repeatedly. The brief restoration of the Bourbon monarchy between 1814 and 1830 created the opportunity to consecrate the nation to the Sacred Heart. Louis XVI had done so privately before the Revolution, but Louis XVIII, who ruled from 1814 until 1824, was too savvy a politician to engage in an act that could be so divisive to the nation. Another surge of fervor to fulfill Alacoque’s prophecy ensued when France was defeated in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. The pious French believed that these two wars were a divine condemnation of a nation fallen from grace. Bishop Félix Fournier (1803–1877) of Nantes proclaimed, “Defeat . . . was a punishment from God; it was the consequence of moral failure on a national scale.”⁷ Catholic France recognized these disasters as a call from God to repent and atone for its sins.

The National Vow and the construction of the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur

In 1870 Alexandre Félix Legentil (1821–1889) became a refugee in Poitiers after the Franco-Prussian defeat, the patriotic trauma of the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, and the devastation of the Paris Commune. While there, inspired by similar building projects in Lyon and Marseille, he vowed to build a national church dedicated to the Sacred Heart. He quickly won the enthusiasm of Hubert Rohault de Fleury (1828–1910), his brother-in-law, and the support of Cardinal Pie, Bishop of Poitiers. Legentil and de Fleury were able to convince Parisian Archbishop Joseph Hyppolyte Guibert (1802–1886) to support their National Vow to the Sacred Heart and the construction of Sacré-Coeur. Guibert wanted to keep its text as apolitical as possible for fear of the Republicans. After some correspondence and negotiation on the exact wording of the vow, Legentil, Hubert Rohault de Fleury, and Cardinal Guibert opted for the following:

In spite of the misfortunes that ravage France, and perhaps of even greater woes that threaten it; in spite of the sacrilegious attacks committed in Rome against the laws of the Church and the Holy See, and against the sacred person of the Vicar of Jesus Christ; We humble ourselves before God, and, bringing together in our love the Church and our homeland, we recognize that we have been guilty and rightly punished. And to make appropriate amends for our sins and to obtain from the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ the forgiveness of our transgressions as well as the extraordinary relief that alone can deliver the Sovereign Pontiff from his captivity, and put an end to France’s misfortunes, we promise to contribute to the erection in Paris of a sanctuary dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.⁸

In fulfillment of the prophecy of Alacoque, multiple consecrations were made to the Sacred Heart. Along with its widely disseminated emblem, France only needed a church, and the National Vow ensured that this would happen.

After the far-left socialist Paris Commune was suppressed on May 28, 1871, the Third French Republic was quickly formed. Conservative royalist Marie Joseph Louis Adolphe Thiers (1797–1877) was elected president. The following year, Archbishop Guibert formally approved the Sacré-Coeur building project on January 18. The endorsement of the National Vow by Pope Pius IX quickly followed in July 1872. Guibert wrote the following to Legentil and Fleury: “This temple, erected as a public act of contrition and reparation . . . will stand among us as a protest against other monuments and works of art erected for the glorification of vice and impiety.”⁹ These “monuments” refer to the massive rebuilding of Paris undertaken by Georges-Eugène Haussmann (1809–1891) by order of Emperor Napoleon III during the Second Empire (1852–1870).

Guibert was keenly interested in choosing the right place for the new church. He considered consecrating several existing buildings, including the Paris Opéra and the Trocadéro. Both were constructed during Haussman’s renovation of Paris. The debate lasted for some time until Guibert visited the summit of Montmartre, the “Hill of the Martyrs,” and was overwhelmed by the magnificent view of Paris. During Roman Emperor Decius’s persecution of Christians in 250 A.D., Saint Denis, the first evangelist of Gall, was martyred on Montmartre. Saint Joan of Arc and other saints made pilgrimages to the site, and Saint Ignatius of Loyola founded the Jesuit order there. During the Commune, two royalist generals who were defending Montmartre from the Republican mob were also martyred there. The site had been used for various purposes throughout the centuries but was not for sale.

To secure Montmartre, Guibert made a petition to the National Assembly concerning the construction of the church. On July 23, 1873, the National Assembly passed a law that proclaimed the construction of Sacré Coeur a public utility (Paris). Meanwhile, the Republic appointed a new president, Patrice de MacMahon (1808–1893), Marshall of France and Duke of Magenta, whose main ambition was to establish a constitutional monarchy. Catholic sympathizers held the majority in the National Assembly, and the land was seized by the government by expropriation (“eminent domain”) and sold to the Archdiocese of Paris.

Although declared an act of public utility, the project received no tax funding. Rather, donations poured in from across the country from private “subscribers” who purchased construction stones that would bear their names. During the nineteenth century, Gothic architecture was considered the quintessential style; however, the Works Committee of 1872 chose a Byzantine concept proposed by Paul Abadie (1812–1884) from among the seventy-eight entries in a competition held for the design of the building. The style of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul and San Marco Basilica in Venice inspired Abadie’s plan. Workers laid the cornerstone of the basilica on June 16, 1875, in the presence of President MacMahon, who donated a statue of the Sacred Heart that stands in the apsidal chapel in the crypt. Subsequent Republican regimes regarded the construction of the basilica as an incitement to civil war. They considered halting progress on the building in 1873, 1897, and 1899; but because the government would have had to reimburse the eight million subscribers some thirty million francs, work continued. Sacré Coeur was ready for consecration in 1914, but the outbreak of World War I delayed this until October 24, 1919.

Henri Mulet and the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur

On October 17, 1878, three years after work began with laying the cornerstone of the new church, Henri Mulet was born. Sacré-Coeur was a constant presence throughout his childhood, as he was reared in its shadows. Henri’s entire family was musical. Gabriel, his father, was a celebrated choirmaster of Sacré-Coeur from 1886 to 1903. Blanche Victorie Patin Gatin, his mother, played the harmonium both in the provisional chapel erected on the site and later in the unfinished great church.¹⁰ From her, Henri learned to play the organ and piano.¹¹

In his day, Gabriel Mulet received widespread acclaim as the master of the choir of Sacré-Coeur and as a composer of liturgical music. Although forgotten today, his works include the 1894 Cantata à Jeanne d’Arc and a Tantum ergo for choir and large orchestra composed in 1900. He also composed the text and music for a “Chant Populaire” for the dedication of the great bell of Sacré-Coeur, simply titled The Savoyarde.
The Bulletin de l’Oeuvre du Vœu national notes that the hymn’s “music constitutes a model of imitative harmony.”¹² Sacré-Coeur historian Father Jacques Benoist further opines that this influence is obvious in Mulet’s Esquisses Byzantines.¹³ In Gabriel’s hymn, the choir sings the pious text, while a recurring “strike” on low C of the organ pedals marked “Savoyarde” represents the tolling of the massive bell. This tolling bell effect is somewhat akin to the oscillating octaves heard in Henri’s “Campanile” movement, thus suggesting that Henri may have learned something about musical composition from his father. Additionally, father and son collaborated on a pious “Cantique pour la Communion,” O Mon Jésus, with a text by Gabriel and music by Henri. The work was published in 1900 by Le Beau, a small religious publishing house that Leduc assimilated in 1905.

In 1889 Henri Mulet enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire, where he studied organ and composition with Charles-Marie Widor. Mulet was generally a musical conservative, and because of his birthdate, he is considered a Middle-Impressionist composer.¹⁴ Although he only composed for fifteen years, 1896–1911, one can group his compositional output into three broad stylistic periods. In 1911 he appears to have stopped composing abruptly. “He was hostile to the changes and innovations of the twentieth century, and his style remained strongly rooted in the symphonic organ of Cavaillé-Coll of the nineteenth century.”¹⁵ In 1937 he retired from his final church position at Saint Philippe-du-Roule and the Paris musical scene because his colleagues and even the church’s authorities preferred “modern” music to Franck and his contemporaries.¹⁶

In 1924 Mulet’s colleague and friend Vincent d’Indy (1851–1931) offered Henri the position of professor of organ at the Schola Cantorum where he taught until 1931. The Schola, founded as a foil to the Conservatoire’s emphasis on theatrical music, emphasized formal technique over originality. The Schola’s sacred music curriculum was an exemplar of the principles for church music dictated in the 1903 Motu Proprio by Pope Pius X. This explicitly ultramontane document idealized Gregorian chant and Roman-style polyphony as best suited to the Catholic liturgy. The Schola implemented the papal agenda.

Especially significant here is that the Schola Cantorum did not just define musical values that it considered to be “national,” it established a “code” that associated them with genres, styles, repertoires, and techniques. . . . French nationalist leagues taught the Republic that music could be invariable as a form of "representation”—that it could help shape perceptions when surrounded by a discourse that imbued it with ideological meaning.¹⁷

Mulet seems to have been a papal sympathizer. Aware of the demands that Pope Pius X made of Catholic musicians, he acquiesced. Many like Messiaen did not. In 1921 Mulet presented a lecture to the General Congress of Sacred Music in Strasbourg titled, “The Harmful and Anti-religious Tendencies of the Modern Organ.” The article, published in 1922, critiques the Hope-Jones cinema organ and its use in church. Mulet called it the “Antichrist.” Although Mulet played the cinema organ during his time at Draguignan, his distaste for its liturgical use comes from the papal dictum: “They are also anti-religious because the orchestral organ leads to the performance of transcriptions of orchestral music and even of music for the theatre, which is formally condemned by our Holy Father Pope Pius X.”¹⁸

Eventually Mulet withdrew from public life. He spent his last years at the convent of the Little Sisters of the Poor in Draguignan. He died there on September 20, 1967, elusive, secretive, and largely forgotten. No obituary was published, and the location of his grave has been forgotten.

Esquisses Byzantines as Mulet’s spiritual testament

Esquisses Byzantines is a programmatic set of pieces. Its first five movements describe the physical structure of the basilica, and the second five relate aspects of its ideology, customs, and rituals. Three programmatic “mottos” that Mulet added to the piece at the time of publication hint at this ideological schema. Together, these mottos strongly suggest that Mulet’s work is a kind of sermon on the power of the devotion of the victorious French to the Sacred Heart.

Mulet was reclusive and not at all interested in displaying his biography for public scrutiny. He rarely commented on his pieces or music in general. Our knowledge of Mulet, his music, and his temperament comes to us mainly in the form of anecdotes by one of his closest friends, Félix Raugel (1881–1975). The theories in this article cannot be verified in first-person writings by Mulet; likewise, the personal significance of his compositions is vague. Raugel was ignorant of the programmatic meanings of Mulet’s music. Even Henri’s wife Isabelle really did not understand him.¹⁹

Mulet completed Esquisses Byzantines in 1908 but did not add the dedication—“In memory of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Montmartre, 1914–1919”—until its 1920 publication. These dates are critical: they are of World War I. Many people believe that Mulet composed the work between 1914 and 1919. This is incorrect. He added those dates to the motto, and they refer only to the motto and not the actual years of composition.

Primed to be dedicated on October 17, 1914, the festivities for the dedication of the basilica were postponed because the previous July, war with Germany intervened. At the onset of the war, the French did not know if God would take pity on them, but many believed the spiritual reparations moved him to do so. Faced with the prospect of another humiliating defeat at the hands of Germany, the French bishops sought to fulfill God’s demands to France almost as soon as the war began. “As early as 1914, the Bulletin’s columnist recalled that France had not responded to the three main demands made of it in 1689. Therefore, the Lord can hardly cover it with glory!”²⁰ At the time, conservative Catholics were overwhelmingly monarchists. Modern secular forms of government had been condemned decades earlier in the “Syllabus of Errors” issued by Pope Pius IX in 1864. Pope Pius X reinforced this condemnation with his “Oath Against Modernism” in 1910, which was professed by all religious and many lay Catholics. The French bishops consecrated the entire country to the Sacred Heart on its feast day, June 11, 1915, and many allied banners displayed an emblem of the Sacred Heart:

In March 1917, soldiers from France, England, Italy, Japan, Poland, Romania, and Russia gathered in Paray-le-Monial with their banners on which a Sacred Heart was affixed. They met again on June 15, 1917, in Montmartre for a day of Catholic soldiers of the Allied armies, where they renewed according to the formula of Cardinal Amette [of Paris] their solemn consecration to the Sacred Heart. Montmartre is therefore naturally regarded by the allies as the center of the expansion of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus throughout 
the world.²¹

Only at the end of that bloody conflict was the Basilica finally consecrated. A victorious France—led by the fiery oratory of [George] Clemenceau [sic]—joyfully celebrated the consecration of a monument conceived of in the course of a losing war with Germany a generation before. Gallia Poenitens at last brought its rewards.²²

For Catholic France, this victory was the direct result of the intervention of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the fulfillment of the prophecies of Sainte Marguerite-Marie Alacoque. In the Savoyarde hymn, Gabriel Mulet foretells this in the ninth stanza: “You will shout the Hosanna of glory / When our soldiers, Happy Day, / Will come back with victory / Under the flag of the Sacred Heart.”²³

The basilica was finally consecrated on October 24, 1919, and the people of France recognized it as a symbol of the Allied victory in the war.

The High Altar was consecrated by Cardinal Amette, Archbishop of Paris, and thirty bishops consecrated the other thirty altars—fifteen in the Basilica, and fifteen in the crypt. At midday, the Pontifical High Mass was celebrated by Cardinal Vico, Prefect of the Congregation of Rites.²⁴

Had Mulet composed a mere tribute to the basilica’s architecture, the dates on the score’s dedication might likely be those of the entire time of construction from cornerstone to consecration (1875–1919). Instead, Mulet chose the dates from the beginning of World War I to its formal end with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on June 28, 1919. Moreover, English speakers tend to limit the meaning of the word memoîre to its cognate translation “memory.” This might suggest some nostalgia or sentimental longing for something in the distant past, perhaps a reflection on Mulet’s childhood lived in the shadow of the basilica or as if the building had been destroyed; however, memoîre can also mean a thesis or proposition needing defending.²⁵ Mulet’s proposal may have been that the Sacred Heart of Jesus and his church saved France. One may view Mulet’s work as not only a celebration of the consecration of the building but also a celebration of the Allied victory that Catholics attributed to the divine intervention of the Sacred Heart. In this light, the motto may even be a defense of the prophecies of Alacoque.

The fourth movement, “Chapelle des Morts” (“Chapel of the Dead”), bears the inscription: “In venerable memory of His Eminence Cardinal Guibert whose empty tomb in this chapel is still waiting for the fulfillment of his last will.” The Chapelle des Morts in the basilica’s crypt includes the tomb of Cardinal Guibert, surmounted by a statue of him presenting a miniature of the basilica to God. Additionally, the tomb of his successor, Cardinal Richard, is there as is an urn containing the heart of Alexandre Legentil. Despite the plural name and multiple tombs found in this chapel, Mulet singularizes Cardinal Guibert.

The son of a farmer, Guibert was born on December 13, 1802, in Aix-en-Provence. After several years at a Sulpician major seminary, he became a Missionary of Provence on January 25, 1823. On August 14, 1825, in Marseille he was ordained a priest. He received three successive bishoprics: Viviers in 1842, Tours in 1857, and Paris in 1871. He was elevated to the College of Cardinals on December 22, 1873. His appointment to Paris was hardly a “promotion,” for all three of his predecessors had been assassinated in office. Guibert initially refused the appointment, but Pope Pius IX mandated his acceptance of the post. He was installed as archbishop in Notre-Dame Cathedral on October 27, 1871. He died on July 8, 1886. According to multiple biographers, the two tremendous achievements of his tenure in Paris were the construction of the basilica and the establishment of the Catholic University (Institute) in 1875.

Guibert was the principal representative of the ultramontane movement in France. Ultramontanism, which translates “beyond the mountains (Alps),” was an unorganized movement of conservative nineteenth-century Catholics that emphasized absolute, centralized papal authority. The movement arose in the 1860s when the Italian Unification movement conquered the Papal States. The ultramontane Catholics supported the restoration of the Papal States without compromise. Concerning papal authority, Guibert writes: “The Bishops desire order; they respect authority, which is the principal foundation of society. The hand of the Church has never been seen in revolutions. You will do well to direct your attention and solicitude elsewhere.”²⁶ And again: “The republic has received neither from God nor from history any promise of immortality.”²⁷ Guibert’s writings highlight an ardent desire among conservative Catholics to restore the French monarchy and practical papal sovereignty. The Republic was the enemy.

Before his death, Guibert directed that his Requiem Mass should be simple and that the money that would have been spent on an elaborate funeral be given to the poor. At first, he was laid in state and was buried in the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. His remains were later transferred to the Chapel of the Dead in Sacré-Coeur. A Latin inscription on his tomb states that he was interred there in 1922, thirty-six years later. Mulet’s motto suggests his indignation that Guibert’s remains were still missing from the Chapel of the Dead in 1919. Whether this indicates that Mulet supported Guibert’s ideology is debatable, but he seemed to admire the cardinal enough to bring attention to his empty tomb.

The fifth movement, “Campanile” (“Bell Tower”), bears the inscription “All white, it towers over the vastness of the countryside from afar.” The basilica sits on Montmartre, one of the highest points in Paris. Guibert chose this site because of the view of the city that it affords; however, Mulet chose the word “campagne” rather than “ville” or “Cité,” perhaps because he felt that the bell tower is the pinnacle point not only of Paris but of the entire country. He reinforces this by identifying the bell tower, not the basilica as a whole, as this zenith point. “Campagne” can also mean a military or political campaign. This could be Mulet’s deliberate allusion to the evangelical mission of the basilica and to call all of France to penitential conversion.

By 1912 the bell tower of Sacré-Coeur was complete and thus was not finished when Mulet wrote his work in 1908. Because of this, Mulet may have had an idealized vision of the belfry and the entire basilica in mind. The bell tower and its great drone bell, “La Savoyarde,” were sources of great pride among Parisian Catholics. Catholic churches have named, blessed, and consecrated bells for centuries in a rite known as the “baptism of bells.” The formal name of the great bell of Sacré-Coeur is Françoise Marguerite of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, colloquially known as La Savoyarde. The bell was cast at the Paccard foundry in Annecy-le-Vieux. Francis Albert Leuilleux, Archbishop of Chambery, and the bishops of Savoy initiated its creation; the clergy and upper and lower classes of the province funded it, hence the nickname La Savoyarde.

Weighing nineteen tons, La Savoyarde is the largest bell in France and the sixth largest in Europe. It arrived at Montmartre on October 16, 1895. A team of twenty-eight horses pulled it into Paris. Its arrival was a huge public spectacle attended by hundreds of thousands of Parisians. It was formally baptized on this date by Cardinal Archbishop Richard of Paris. A souvenir booklet from the occasion tells us, “The voice of the bells is the voice of God,”²⁸ and that, “It is, thank God, this terrible Savoyard, of a size and weight to resist all the attacks of the demolishers and the shock of all future revolutions.”²⁹ “It is, in all respects, the most beautiful bell that has been made to this day. It is the largest, the richest, and the most harmonious that exists in France. She is the queen of the world’s bells. We can only delight in it: it is the Bell of the Sacred Heart.”³⁰ By using the word “campagne” to include all territories outside of the city of Paris, Mulet may very well have been advancing the mission and message of the basilica for all of France and even the world.

The most interesting and vastly popular movement that suggests an ideological program for the Esquisses Byzantines is its final movement: “Tu es petra et portae inferi non praevalebunt adversus te” (“You are the rock and the gates of Hell will never prevail against you”). Mulet’s manuscript that Leduc presumably used for publication, now in a private collection, shows that at the time of composition, Mulet titled the work simply “Toccata.” Mulet scribbled this out and added the “Tu es petra” title in different ink, along with a host of other changes. This points to the ideological meaning given the work at the time of publication. The Latin inscription is a quote from the Vulgate Bible that asserts that Christ established the papacy. The Greek text of Saint Matthew’s Gospel has been the subject of debate among Christians since the Western Schism. The Catholic Church’s official interpretation of the Vulgate states that the Church is founded not on a geological rock but by Christ who appointed Peter as the first pope and established the Petrine ministry as God’s eternal presence in the world. Orthodox and Protestant churches interpret the Greek differently. The full text of Matthew 16:18–19 reads: “Et ego dico tibi, quia tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram aedificabo Ecclesiam meam, et portae inferi non praevalebunt adversus eam,” “And I tell you, because you are Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” Mulet made three edits to the Biblical text.

The first edit is the change from “Petrus,” a masculine, proper noun meaning the name Peter, to “petra,” a feminine noun meaning a geological rock. Given the uniform association between Mulet’s Catholic audience with the papacy, this revision is startling. Several seminary professors of Church history found no precedent in the Catholic world for this alteration. One of them felt that the substitution was so bizarre that perhaps Mulet was writing from memory and misquoted the Vulgate!

The dominant theory to explain this change is that the “rock” is Montmartre Hill, and that “hell” is an allegory for the passage of time and erosion by the elements. This widely accepted theory does not come directly from Mulet nor anecdotally from Raugel. The Greek word “Petrus” appears sixteen times in the New Testament. If Mulet only wanted to speak of geological rocks, he could have selected any of these since the “Tu es petra” text has such a strong association with the papacy. Another theory says that “petra” refers to the smaller, Medieval church of Saint Pierre-de-Montmartre, an institution consecrated over 700 years before the basilica. Regardless, both interpretations struggle to compete with the dominant Catholic exegesis.

Significant, too, is the omission of the phrase “et super hanc petram aedificabo Ecclesiam meam,” the portion of the text interpreted as the source of papal authority. This omission suggests that Mulet is not arguing for the legitimacy of the Petrine office but the invincibility of “petra.” The third edit is the change of the word “eam” (“him”) to “te” (“you”) to match the feminine gender of “petra.” This change is significant because of the distance between the two agreeing words in the Latin text. A mere misquotation would not be so precise. Despite the difference in languages, Mulet may have linked the French “Montmartre” with the Latin “petra” because both are of feminine gender. Without a doubt, “petra” means “rock.” Mulet just changed the Biblical text to suit his purpose, a tactic that he frequently employed in various other pieces. Knowing that his Catholic audience would immediately associate this passage with the papacy, Mulet may have intended another double meaning of the word “petra.”

To fully understand Mulet’s use of the title and its relationship to the basilica, one needs to examine the status of the papacy by 1920. The French Revolution of 1789 effectively ended the notion of government as a divinely ordained hierarchy. This idea quickly swept across the globe. In Italy, minor revolutions in the 1820s, 1830s, and 1840s gave rise to the movement to unite the Italian peninsula: the Risorgimento. Because the centrally located Papal States divided Italy in half, the Italian nationalists viewed them as an obstacle to unification. The nationalists conquered them one by one, and by 1861 only Rome remained directly under papal rule. The pope’s army was weak and had never been able to defend any of its states without the military assistance of historically Catholic countries. Most of these allies withdrew their aid when the First Vatican Council (1869–1870) decreed papal infallibility. Only the French remained, and the onset of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 recalled all these troops from Rome. The pope pleaded for international assistance, but still enraged at the definition of papal infallibility, the leadership of Europe’s traditionally Catholic countries refused. King Victor Emmanuel II (1820–1878) of Italy attempted diplomatic resolutions to the problem of Rome, but Pope Pius IX would cede nothing to the Italians.

Rome, undefended, was invaded by the Italian army under the command of Raffaele Cadorna (1815–1897) in the early morning hours of September 20, 1870. It fell soon afterward. The populace of Rome was itself divided on whether Rome should be independent of the papacy. “The Catholic religion represented the hand of medieval superstition and inequality, faith in the supernatural rather than in reason.”³¹ By 1873, cries of “death to the Pope” rang in the streets, which led to the excommunication of King Victor Emmanuel II for his Law of Suppression of Religious Corporations. Unwavering, the pope insisted that his spiritual autonomy depended upon his territorial sovereignty. There was no room in Rome for two sovereigns. Pope Pius IX declared himself “Prisoner of the Vatican” and refused to leave its buildings rather than to accept the sovereignty of the King of Italy. He and his successors would remain “prisoners” until Pope Pius XI bartered the Lateran Treaty with Benito Mussolini in 1929, creating the Vatican City State.

When Rome fell, France gazed at the events in Italy with tears in its eyes. France, the Pope’s surest defender, abandoned him in his hour of greatest need. The papal nuncio to France remarked that as “. . . the French army’s catastrophe on the Rhine began, . . . the conviction is spreading and deepening that the French government’s sins toward the Holy See have provoked God’s wrath on France.”³² The French defeat in the Franco-Prussian War was God’s punishment inflicted on the nation for abandoning the pope. France needed to atone for its sins against God when it allowed Papal Rome to fall.

“To obtain the deliverance of the Sovereign Pontiff and the Salvation of France” is one of two fundamental goals of Legentil’s National Vow. The construction of Sacré-Coeur to fulfill the demands of Alacoque’s vision was a required act of reparation for the country’s sins against the papacy. To win back God’s favor, its construction was essential. Revolutions in France and Italy had ended the church’s immediate, practical, governing authority, resulting in the execution of bishops and clergy and the demolition of once-great monasteries and convents. The pope was walled up in the Vatican in the face of a secular government and a populace thirsty for his blood. The bishop of Poitiers, François Pie, noted that, “The Revolution of 1789 is the original sin of public life.”³³ Simply put: hell is the Revolution. The Savoyarde dedication booklet anticipates this explicitly, stating that its purpose is “to resist all the attacks of the demolishers and the shock of all the future revolutions” (italics added).³⁴ The precedent of this view and its likely dissemination among French Catholics suggests that Mulet’s message in this final movement of the cycle is a statement of faith in both the physical building and its ideology; and as such, “Tu es petra” is no mere circus showpiece, but the profound prayer of a fervent heart and a statement of hope and comfort to an oppressed Church.

Conclusion

While there is no doubt that Mulet’s Esquisses Byzantines is a colorful interpretation of the architecture of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica in Paris, one should not neglect its ideological program. A close reading of this text completes the understanding of the piece in a more philosophical way than the empiricists suggest. The ideology of the basilica is one of atonement—a call to France to repent for the sins of the Revolution and for failure to protect the pope from the Risorgimento. The fruit of this penance was the Allied victory in World War I. Mulet’s programmatic inscriptions seem to support this as does his otherwise unknown motivation for publishing the work at this time. Mulet never commented on the program of the Esquisses Byzantines, but this in no way dismisses this close reading.

The French victory in World War I confirmed for conservative Catholics that the final fulfillment of the prophecies of Marguerite-Marie Alacoque had been successful. France had atoned for its sins. Alacoque was canonized on May 13, 1920, the final affirmation of the victory won through the Sacred Heart of Jesus for France and the world.

Notes

1. Jane F. Fulcher, The Composer as Intellectual: Music and Ideology in France 1914–1940 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), page 17.

2. Ibid., page 5.

3. Raymond A. Jonas, France and the Cult of the Sacred Heart: an Epic Tale for Modern Times (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007), page 27.

4. Ibid., page 40.

5. Ibid., page 83.

6. Ibid., page 90.

7. Ibid., page 149.

8. Alfred Van den Brule, Le Sacré-Coeur De Montmartre: Hubert Rohault De Fleury (Paris: Spes, 1930), page 134.

9. David Harvey, Paris, Capital of Modernity (Abingdon-on-Thames: Routledge, 2006), page 376.

10. Jacques Benoist, “Le Sacré-Coeur De Montmartre De 1870 a Nos Jours,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, volume 26, number 1 (1992), pages 355–356.

11. Felix Raugel, letter to Kenneth Saslaw, July 7, 1973. Correspondence: Saslaw archives, Donna Walters, Gautier, Mississippi, November 16, 2023.

12. Bulletin De l’Œuvre Du Vœu National, Archives Historiques De l’Archevêché De Paris (AHAP), 1895, page 924.

13. Benoist, page 608.

14. Donna Mary Walters, Steven Best, and Thomas Fielding, The Enigmatic Organist (manuscript), page 1.

15. Ibid., page 26.

16. Ibid., page 23.

17. Fulcher, op. cit., page 11.

18. “Les tendances et antireligieuses néfastes de l’orgue moderne,” Congres General de Musique Sacrée, Strasbourg, July 26–31, 1921, page 9.

19. Isabelle Mulet letter to Kenneth Saslaw, July 7, 1973. Correspondence in Saslaw archives, Donna Walters, Gautier, Mississippi, November 16, 2023.

20. Benoist, op. cit., page 586.

20. Benoist, op. cit., page 588.

21. Harvey, op. cit., page 381.

22. G. Mulet, “La Savoyarde: Cantique Populaire” (Grenoble, M. Fleurot, 1896).

23. Paul Handley, editor, “Sacre Coeur Is Consecrated,” Church Times, October 25, 2019, www.churchtimes.co.uk/.

24. Jean-Loup Truche, Concerning the Translations of the Words “Memoîre” and “Campagnes,” email to the author, January 12, 2020.

25. Quoted in R. F. O’Conner, “Cardinal Guibert.” American Catholic Quarterly Review, Volume XLII, Number 165 (January 1917), page 465.

26. Ibid., page 487.

27. Savoyarde.

28. Ibid., page 47.

29. Ibid., page 71.

30. David Kertzer, Prisoner of the Vatican (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006), page 111.

31. Ibid., page 39.

32. Kertzer, op. cit., p. 39.

33. Jonas, op. cit., page 147.

34. “Voeu national au Sacré Coeur: cérémonie du baptême de Françoise Marguerite du Sacré-Coeur [cloche dite la Savoyarde de]” (Paris: Imprimerie Devalois, 1895).

John Bishop

The human touch

Choral music is not one of life’s frills. It’s something that goes to the very heart of our humanity, our sense of community, and our souls. You express, when you sing, your soul in song. And when you get together with a group of other singers, it becomes more than the sum of the parts. All of those people are pouring out their hearts and souls in perfect harmony, which is kind of an emblem for what we need in the world, when so much of the world is at odds with itself. That’s just to express in symbolic terms what it’s like when human beings are in harmony. That’s a lesson for our times, and for all time.

When I was writing for the July 2015 issue of The Diapason, I was in the thrall of a video interview with John Rutter just released on YouTube by his American distributer, J. W. Pepper. (Type “john rutter the importance of choir” in the YouTube search bar.) This simple statement, presented as a matter of fact, says everything about why we work so hard to nurture parish choirs. Maybe not quite everything. He goes on,

Musical excellence is, of course, at the heart of it, but even if a choir is not the greatest in the world, it has a social value, a communal value . . . . [A] church or a school without a choir is like a body without a soul.

Recently, a blog post appeared on the website of the Episcopal Diocese of Dallas with the title, “The Future of the Organ for Church Worship,” written by the Reverend Marc Dobson. The piece opens with an overview of various chapters in the movement of contemporary music in worship including the Pentecostal movement, Folk Masses, Charismatic worship, television evangelists, and the Willow Creek movement. We are all well aware that many worshippers are moved by styles of music other than the organ-and-choir tradition in which I grew up. My first job playing the organ in church was in a Roman Catholic parish (I was thirteen years old) where the 5:00 Mass on Sunday afternoon featured folk music. I played traditional music on Sunday mornings on the Conn Artiste. (Get it?)

Fr. Dobson continues with other truths, such as, “Finding a good church organist is hard, given the nature of the church and where things are at today.” He states, fairly enough,

. . . many organists are not easily adaptable to a changing worship culture. Finding an organist who is willing to ‘give and take’ is certainly a challenge. Many organists are ‘purists’ when it comes to music, making the challenge even more difficult. They are Kings and Queens of their domain and will certainly let you know that very thing!

I have witnessed many musicians insisting that their way is correct, and I have participated in many dinner table conversations about working with difficult clergy. I know that what Fr. Dobson says here is based in truth. But when he continues by suggesting that if your church “finds itself without an organist,” a weekly subscription service, or “organ in a box,” is a viable solution, I think he has gone off the rails. Among advantages of this plan, he lists, “Pastoral control over weekly content,” “Accurate and professional sounding organ led worship,” and “Reliability.” These ideas carry negative connotations for organists, especially when taken out of context. In that light, it is important to mention that Fr. Dobson implies that he would prefer to have a “real” organist: “While it’s great to have a real organist, like I said, they’re not easy to find.” Fake organists need not apply.

§

Wendy and I moved to New York City four years ago, but I still have quite a few organ-service clients in the Boston area where I have been maintaining organs since 1984—I have been visiting eight of those organs for all that time. Thirty-five years is more than a generation, and I have seen many changes. I remember a formidable list of musicians who occupied the great organ benches of Boston, like George Faxon, John Ferris, Max Miller, Yuko Hayashi, Donald Teeters, and Daniel Pinkham, now all deceased; each led brilliant music programs and influenced the generation that followed them. University organ departments, notably the New England Conservatory of Music, fed churches with energetic ambitious young organists, many of whom are now the senior musicians in the area.

Unfortunately, NEC has closed its organ department, and perhaps not coincidentally, many of the churches where I maintain organs struggle to retain organists. More than a few congregations that I served and admired have disbanded, and quite a few of my clients have informed me that they will stop maintaining their organ because they have not been able to find an organist. I often learn that when the prominent incumbent musician retired, the church advertised the position at a lower salary, believing that such a transition was a good time to cut the budget. The next generation of organists, eager to apply for that plumb position, is disappointed to learn that the salary offered is low and moves on to the next opportunity.

Another symptom of a church that is cutting budgets is the unattended office. Thirty years ago, it was typical for every church to have at least one full-time person in the office. Of course, those were also the days before voicemail, call waiting, call forwarding, and all the technological advances that allow us to stay in touch without answering the phone. But today, at least where I live and work, when calling a church office, there is someone in the office only two or three mornings a week, so it is usual to reach a voicemail system. Scheduling a tuning visit and being sure that the heat will be turned up is done by voicemail, email, and text messages. In some ways, that is the same as replacing the organist with a subscription service, as in both cases the personal connection is removed from the equation.

I have been in countless church buildings where the ubiquitous church secretary ran an important ministry that was the bustling, cheerful, comforting traffic of parishioners coming and going during the week. The coffee was never very good, but there was always a bowl of candies or a plate of cookies and plenty of good cheer. It is a little sad for the organ tuner to open the building with his own key and walk alone down dark corridors past bulletin boards festooned with yellowing minutes of meetings held four months ago, and it is frustrating to find that in spite of numerous emails and voice messages, they failed to turn up the heat—again. It is especially sad in those buildings where I remember the bustle and conviviality of a rollicking church office, where running jokes lasted from year to year.

§

I’ll do my best to shine a positive light on Fr. Dobson’s blog and read it as a plea for good organists rather than a plan to replace them. Every good organist deserves a proper position, and every church that wants a good organist deserves to have one. However, there are some ground rules. The musicians and the clergy all must strive to be creative colleagues and constructive leaders in the life of the church, not the “King or Queen” of impregnable domains. And just as clergy should be well compensated, the church must offer reasonable compensation to the musician that reflects the requisite education and experience. Good organists are trained seriously and creatively. Planning a vibrant and varied music program requires deep knowledge of the literature and lots of skill, and church organists are among the most prolific of performing musicians, often playing fifteen or twenty different “numbers” before the public each week.

In many parishes, the choir (or choirs) is the most active volunteer activity. Dozens of people arrive cheerfully twice a week to give their effort and talents to the enhancement of worship. There are choir parties, retreats, and special programs of outreach to members who are suffering illness in their families or other of life’s complications. Some parish choirs even go on international tours, carrying the ministries of a local parish across oceans to sing in European cathedrals. To sustain all this excitement, it is the responsibility of the choir director to program music that is stimulating and challenging. Squandering that powerful volunteer effort by wasting hours is unthinkable. It is impossible to imagine any or all of this being replaced with a subscription service.

The important thing here is that we are all working for institutions that are not as strong as they were a generation ago. The musician who fails to be a constructive colleague is hastening the day when another good position vanishes.

§

I admit freely that I have heard very little contemporary worship music, and none of what I have heard merits much praise. I have never gone out of my way to hear it. My only exposures have been the several occasions when I have been working in an organ through a Saturday afternoon, agreeing that the praise band can rehearse while I am there. I have heard young volunteers with powerful amplifiers, no ears, no skill, and no sense of trying to improve plodding through four-chord, four-note, four-word songs over and over, making the same mistakes each time. (Just keep turning leather nuts, John.) I am sure there are skilled professional ensembles that lead contemporary music in worship, but I have not had an opportunity to witness in person.

If a parish judges that their congregation would thrive on a diet of contemporary music, wouldn’t it be appropriate for it to be offered with the highest professionalism possible, rather than allow it to serve as an excuse not to pay musicians? Joseph W. Clokey (1890–1960), professor of organ at Miami University and Pomona College and dean of the School of the Fine Arts at Miami University, said:

The purpose of worship is to elevate, not degrade. The quality of music used should be above, not below the cultural level of the congregation. If the music seems to be ‘over your heads’ the best plan is to raise your head.

I have had another experience with the diminution of excellence. A member of the clergy on staff with me did not approve of my assigning solos to members of the youth choir, saying that it was not fair to kids of lesser ability. I understand that kids do not want to be left out, but didn’t Aretha Franklin, Whitney Houston, Leontyne Price, and Jessye Norman all start their singing careers in church choirs? Would their artistry have thrived if they were held back to be like the others? Isn’t a church choir a good place to encourage natural talents? And isn’t it a responsibility of the choir director to recognize and encourage extraordinary abilities?

I know that I have always been involved with skillful church musicians; I am grateful for that. When I was directing choirs, it was my privilege to work with talented and dedicated singers, both volunteer amateurs and hired professionals, who were willing to work hard and who were excited each time by the challenge of learning a new piece. I also know that many churches present more modest music programs, but unless they are really horrible, the human element will always bring depth and warmth to the music.

Besides working with choirs to present music during regular worship, the church musician can fulfill another important pastoral role: working with families to plan music in times of joy and sorrow. Among the odd collection of memorabilia that has collected in the top drawers of my dresser is a note of appreciation I received from a couple a few days after I met with them to plan the music for their wedding. It is written in a childish hand with several strangely placed commas and misspelled words, but it simply thanks me for being nice and helping them to choose such nice music. They were certain that their wedding would be wonderful. Maybe it was a simple service with another round of Wagner, Pachelbel, and Mendelssohn. Maybe it was bit of a bore for me. But it was an important day for them, and they had the chance to choose special music for themselves. It might be the only time in their lives that they chose music for a celebration. I am happy that I had the chance to provide that for them. Sure, someone could have played recordings of the same pieces, but it would not be the same.

The last church I served had a traditional “chancel plan,” with the organ console on the right side. There was a door behind the bench that opened into the stairway to the choir room below, and it was usual for the groom and best man to hang out there waiting for the processional march. While playing preludes for the wedding of two beloved children of the parish (the bride had babysat for our kids), the groom was standing by the open door, marveling at the organ. I remember hearing him say to his best man, “we should let him ply his trade,” as he quietly closed the door. No subscription service could have done all that.

§

Allow me a sassy moment. If an organist can be replaced by a subscription service, so can a pastor. I bet I could find a service that would provide recorded sermons based on the lectionary, as if preaching was all the pastor did. And CDs are so yesterday. Each week you would receive an email with a WAV file to download. The laptop or tablet would feed Bluetooth speakers, and Bob’s your uncle.

But that is not the point. In response to Fr. Dobson’s essay, I would like to remind all of us that, at best, the church musician is called to the work in ways comparable to a call to join the clergy. Musicians get specialized educations, they practice many hours each week to maintain and hone their skills and to learn new literature, they read and study to keep current with new trends and styles, and with the work of serious new composers. Church musicians add life and color to worship, from mystery to majesty. They can inspire awe and wonder or interject a touch of humor. A huge proportion of the history of the fine arts has been devoted to public worship, from soaring architecture to the great settings of the Latin Mass, and from pictorial art to ecclesiastical symbolism.

Remember those words of Joseph W. Clokey, “The purpose of worship is to elevate, not degrade.” And remember the words of John Rutter, “. . . a church or school without a choir is like a body without a soul.”

I am thinking and writing about the best of things. Not all church musicians have conservatory degrees. Not all churches can afford or produce sophisticated music programs. But clergy and musicians should always be ready to work with each other and respect each other, to create constructive environments without animosity, envy, or competition, and to present a unified worship experience for the benefit and betterment of the communities in which they work.

Musicians, live up to the challenge! Raise the bar, work toward the best. Work to be sure you are a valued colleague and a valued part of staff. Would that it could be that no member of the clergy could feel that the local musician was overlord of an impregnable domain. You will be the one who is always offered a job.

Note: I contacted the communications director of the Episcopal Diocese of Dallas to ask why Fr. Dobson’s blog post had been removed. I was told that they received many responses in a short period and did not have a mechanism through which to make it be a discussion. ν