El Sistema

There was an interesting discussion about Venezuela during BBC Radio 3's Music Matters programme yesterday. Since this blog deals neither with politics nor with music (for the most part), I'll steer clear of most of the details but the discussion of El Sistema (which has brought us Gustavo Dudamel and the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra) reminded me of this article by James MacMillan about El Sistema's Catholic roots. You can hear Jose Antonio Abreu, the founder of El Sistema, speaking about some of his beliefs here.

The programme also addressed the issue of Richard Strauss's links with the Nazi regime by talking to Christoph von Dohnanyi, one of Strauss's great interpreters, who came from a solidly anti-Nazi family. It raised some hugely important questions which von Dohnanyi dealt with movingly, though there is undoubtedly more to be said. What are we to make, for instance, of Strauss's Alpine Symphony, which he considered naming Der Antichrist? Ideology matters in music as well as in literature but maybe a composer's (or an author's) ideology can be trumped by the audience's (or reader's).  

The Way of Beauty

Another magazine which has some very interesting articles is Faith. The May and June edition, for example, has this fascinating article by James MacMillan in which he draw attention to the resources available here.

There's also an article by Dudley Plunkett on The Via Pulchritudinis: Beauty and the New Evangelisation which draws attention to this document from the Pontifical Council for Culture on The Via Pulchritudinis: Privileged Pathway for Evangelisation and Dialogue. There are lots of interesting passages but these two seemed of particular interest (though the translation isn't great for the first one):

To travel the way of beauty implies educating the youth for beauty, helping them develop a critical spirit to discern the various offerings of media culture, and aid them shape their senses and their character to grow and lead into true maturity. Is not "kitsch culture" only a typical outcry of those living in fear of responding to the call to undergo a profound transformation?

and,

It is a matter of presenting with a language that speaks and is pleasing to our contemporaries and using the most apt means the precious witness given by the Mother of God, the martyrs and the saints who have followed Christ in a particularly "attractive" manner. Much is being done in catechetical programmes to let the extraordinary lives of the saints be discovered. It is clear today that, for young people, saints are fascinating—think of Francis of Assisi and José of Anchieta, Juan Diego and Theresa of the Child Jesus, Rose of Lima and Bakhita, Kisito and Maria Goretti, Father Kolbe and Mother Theresa and the theatrical works, films, comic strips, recitals, concerts and muscials that re-create their stories. Their example calls each Christian to be a pilgrim on the pathway of beauty, truth, good, in journeying to the Celestial Jerusalem where we will contemplate the beauty of God in a relation full of love, face-to-face. "There, we will rest and we will see; we will see and we will love, we will love and we will praise. Such will be the end, without end."[40]

An appropriate education helps the faithful grow in the life of prayer of adoration and worship, and fuller participation in the truth to a liturgy lived in the fullness of beauty which immerses the faithful in the mystery of faith. At the same time as re-educating the faithful to marvel at the thinkgs that God works in our lives, it is also necessary to give back to the liturgy its true "splendour", all its dignity and authentic beauty, by rediscovering the authentic sense of Christian mystery, and forming the faithful so that they can enter into the meaning and beauty of the celebrated mystery and live it authentically.

Liturgy is not what man does, but is a divine work. The faithful need to be helped to perceive that the act of worship is not the fruit of activity, a product, a merit, a gain, but is the expression of a mystery, of something that cannot be entirely understood but that needs to be received rather than conceptualised. It is an act entirely free from considerations of efficiency. The attitude of the believer in the liturgy is marked by its capacity to receive, a condition of the progress of the spiritual life. This attitude is no longer spontaneous in a culture where rationalism seeks to direct everything, even our most intimate sentiments.

No less important is the promotion of sacred art to accompany aptly the celebration of the mysteries of the faith, to give beauty back to ecclesiastical buildings and liturgical objects. In this way they will be welcoming, and above all able to convey the authentic meaning of Christian liturgy and encourage full participation of the faithful in the divine mysteries, following the wish often expressed during the Synod of Bishops on the Eucharist.

Certainly the churches must be aesthetically beautiful and well decorated, the liturgies accompanied by beautiful chants and good music, the celebrations dignified and preaching well prepared, but it is not this in itself which is the via pulchritudinis or that which changes us. These are just conditions that facilitate the action of the grace of God. Therefore the faithful need to be educated to pay attention not merely to the aesthetic dimension of the liturgy, however beautiful it may be, but also to understand that the Litrugy is a divine act that is not determined by an ambiance, a climate or even by rubrics, for it is the mystery of faith celebrated in Church.

James MacMillan - a world premiere and a fascinating discussion

James MacMillan's Credo is receiving its World Premiere at the Proms this evening. During the interview MacMillan will discuss Religion in Music with Louise Fryer and the Director of Music at St Paul's Cathedral.

MacMillan is quite an inspirational figure. Speaking on Radio 3 this morning, he was quite happy to refer to himself as a Catholic composer, which may not seem surprising until you think about how many people are happy to call themselves Catholic authors.

As I have suggested elsewhere, Catholic writers have something to learn from the example of Catholic composers like him.

Catholicism and Music

It might reasonably be objected that this topic falls outside the scope of this blog (and outside my area of expertise) but I think an examination of Catholicism's relationship with music in the last hundred years or so can help shed light on its relationship with literature.

If we look at some of the big names in contemporary classical music, it's striking how many of them are religious believers. What's even more striking is how their religious beliefs are absolutely central to their work. Catholics like James MacMillan and Roxanna Panufnik, and Russian Orthodox composers like Sofia Gubaidulina and Arvo Pärt, who was recently appointed a member of the Pontifical Council for Culture, have allowed their faith to shape their work in a way which we hardly ever see in contemporary literature.

Nor are they aberrations in a largely secular profession. A huge number of the most important composers of the 20th Century were Catholics: de Falla, Dupré, Duruflé, Elgar, Gorecki, Messiaen, Poulenc, Schnittke and others besides.

So what conclusions and what parallels can we draw from this? Asking "Where Have All the Catholic Writers Gone?", Robert Fay argues that the (temporary) disappearance of the Latin Mass is one of the root causes of what he sees as a Catholic literary decline. It's an interesting argument - though I'm not wholly convinced by his expression of it - and it is certainly true that Catholic composers have never been cut off from the Catholic past in the same way as their literary counterparts. The (Latin) Mass has continued to be fundamentally important to composers of all faiths and none right up to the present day.

It is also true, as organist-composers such as Dupré, Duruflé, and Messiaen reveal, that the Church has continued to be a hugely important patron of the musical arts. But the prevalence of Catholic composers does not stem from patronage alone.

Equally significant, I would argue, has been the determination of Catholic and Orthodox composers to remain at the forefront of the avant-garde. Composers such as Pärt, Gubaidulina, Schnittke, and Messiaen have been at the forefront of the 20th Century's radical musical experiments not despite their religion but because of it.

Olivier Messiaen, the greatest of them all, was a true Catholic artist precisely because he embraced everything from birdsong to Hindu rhythms, from serialism to Gregorian chant, in his music, while grounding it all in the language of mystical love.

And he wasn't alone. Alfred Schnittke, who was also at the forefront of the 20th Century's avant-garde, allowed his Catholic faith to shape his musical work. His powerful Fourth Symphony, for example, is based on the Mysteries of the Rosary.

The musical and theological confidence of these composers stands out in an era of doubt. Rather than allow their beliefs or music to be compartmentalised or sidelined into the musical equivalent of the God Slot, they brought the life of the Church into the concert hall. By contrast, it now seems hard to imagine a contemporary novelist publishing the equivalent of Messiaen's Vingt regards sur l'enfant-Jésus (or Pärt's Adam's Lament or MacMillan's Triduum).

So can we draw any conclusions about the way forward for Catholic literature based on the success of Catholic (and Orthodox) composers? I would tentatively suggest the following:

1. Being Catholic doesn't mean rejecting the avant-garde.
2. Being avant-garde doesn't mean rejecting the Catholic past. 
3. Catholic art can and should reach out to non-Catholic audiences.

Undoubtedly there's more to be said but that's quite enough for one post.