Gertsamtkunstwerk

The Atheist and Sacred Music

I'm writing this on here because it would be too long even for a multiple Tweet thread.

I am an atheist. This means that, having thought about the matter for many years and weighed up the evidence, I find it highly unlikely that a supernatural being called God exists. To find out my reasons, it's worth reading Christopher Hitchens' God is Not Great, which by-and-large articulates, in a hugely entertaining way, the conclusions I had already drawn.

Some bloke appeared on Radio 4's ghastly Thought for the Day slot and said he found it impossible that people who don't believe in God could appreciate music. I wondered if it was possible to get any more patronising, rude or stupid, whilst clearly talking with a smug grin on his face.

It is pertinent to ask, however, how people who don't believe in a christian god can appreciate 'Sacred Music'. I could be chippy and say it's because we have very broad minds. But that isn't necessarily the case.

Years ago I bought a two volume chronological anthology of English poetry, and was horrified to find that every single poem in volume one was about, or to, the Christian God. Were these people obsessed by religion? I asked myself. The answer of course is more complex. I think that back in the 'olden days' (fill in your own definition) there wasn't really a question of whether or not one was into religion. It was part of the vernacular. So many aspects of life revolved around religion. Disasters and illnesses were ascribed to God, because they didn't know the germ theory of disease or about meterology or plate tectonics. 

When I was in Kos a few years ago we went to Hippocrates' hospital at Asklepeion, arguably the birthplace of evidence-based medicine (pity it went into abeyance for so long!). The tour gyide recounted a visit by a group of schoolkids. He asked them if the Greek Gods were real. Yes, replied one small boy. "Because you - and we - make them real in our minds". Very wise small boy.

English culture, although primarily Christian in its roots, also embraces the ancient gods of mythology - Greek, Roman and norse. We read of their feats, or enjoy operas about them without questioning whether they exist. Logically we know they don't, but it's like when we watch Eastenders or read a novel. Of course these characters don't exist in the physical world, but they do in our minds when we experience the performance.

Listening to Sacred Music - let's for argument sake say Handel's Messiah. I don't sit there repeatedly telling myself 'but this isn't true'. I take the view that the Bible is very real, even if not provably true ie this actual story really exists in written form and is widely known, and enjoy the setting of this very well known story without worrying about the metaphysical reality.

In any case, music isn't just about the words. I'm not sure that the music of Messiah would sound as moving if it was set to the words of the telephone directory. On the other hand, I can enjoy Sacred Music in, for example German, which I understand barely at all.

Some people will argue that the music (or the poetry or the fine art) is so good because the artist has Divine Inspiration. In many cases I am sure that they believe they do. Possibly, in other cases, they are happy to fulfil the wishes of the paymaster. But I can't say they have 'Divine Inspiration', because I don't believe in it. My feeling is that people can become very obsessed by an interest, and I don't see religion as being any different. Political activism, football, opera, exams, a particular audit project - I've seen them all take over people's minds. I've experienced it myself. At the very least, one loses perspective and self-awareness, so that every action or observation has a potential link to the subject of the obsession. Granted, a lot of people do it tongue-in-cheek, but there is also research that shows that eg factory productivity is affected by the performance of the local football team. If you want to, you can convince yourself that you are guided by any supernatural Force you might choose. But I'm sure people 'of faith' will disagree with me.

I could also argue that the great music of certain eras tended to be sacred because of the interaction between church and education. In the land of What-Iffery, how many potential geniuses never reached their potential because they never had the opportunity to learn the basics or practice a skill - and this applies just as much to STEM as to Arts? It's unanswerable - and that's before we ask whether talent is innate or trained!

To conclude, I think I like Sacred Music because it's a manifestation of humanism, the talent of human beings to create something that transcends verbal description. I can't explain why music affects me psychologically, and I know that I'm far from alone in that. 

Three Stand-Ins at the Royal Opera House

Last Wednesday

Best if I get my carping out of the way first.  As I'm sure everybody knows, this concert was originally meant to be Rolando Villazón accompanied by Tony Pappano on piano. When Rolando had to withdraw for health reasons, I felt disappointed;  Dmitri Hvorostovsky being announced as replacement largely mitigated my disappointment.

But on Monday, a further announcement: Dima was withdrawing, due to a throat infection, or an injury, or a publicised alimony case, or something.

Of course I accept that such things happen; of course I know that the ROH was offering full refunds, no questions asked. I declined that refund (although, being in a box with friends complicates the matter!).  Of course I know that to pull together a programme at two to five day's notice takes some doing. So my moans are very much a case of grumbling, rather than 'I've been wronged and demand redress.' No blame, just a honest account of my feelings.

I can't say I was bowled over by the presence of three singers, none of whom float my boat. Each of the three is widely praised, so this is very much a 'taste' thing, not some silly notion of confusing my personal preferences with objective assessment of ability. And, in fairness, none of them are singers that have ever driven me to cover my ears in aural pain. But I have chosen not to attend the operas they are in this summer, which perhaps says what has to be said

Beforehand in the pub, a group of us had a sweepstake going on what would be in the concert. My guesses were so wide of the mark as to be embarrassing. In the hiatus between announcements of Rolando's hiatus and Dmitri's replacement, someone had suggested Ian Bostridge, on account of a Lieder recital she had heard him give with Tony, at Edinburgh I think. I was firm, I don't go to an opera house to hear Lieder.

The programme wasn't available until we arrived in the house, and my heart sank. It was almost as if the only item I knew was 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. And I certainly don't go to the opera house to hear pop songs.

Another quibble was that as far as I could see the performers were not centre stage. I suppose it's customary for the piano to be to the side; singers often cling to the area round the piano. But for a house notorious for its poor sight-lines from the side, I think a more central position would have been better.

As for the performers. I am a bit naughty saying the Three Stand-Ins because it was billed as Antonio Pappano and Friends, the friends being singers Joyce Di Donato, Joseph Calleja and Thomas Hampson, and Vasco Vassiliev, violin.

I can't really criticise their performances, well, I feel it would be nit-picky to do so. I did not like Joyce's programme one bit. Various Rossini arias I didn't know (I don't like Rossini) and, as well as 'Rainbow', some Jerome Kern, also not my bag. I thought she should have left the jazz-style stuff well alone, although Tony demonstrated he has great Jazz hands. But she didn't seem to realise that you have some swing, some syncopation, to sound like you do jazz.

I thought Joseph Calleja was clearly second rate. I won't dispute that his basic voice contains a beauty that, on the whole, he uses well. But he simply didn't do anything for me. I soon bored of his O souverain O juge O pere; he didn't seem to want to convey a story to me. He had started with some songs that interested me not, and his final solo piece was 'Because', which, I think, takes considerable balls to perform without any sense of irony. And I was not the only one who noticed that he seems to have had a hair-transplant or be wearing a wig, or something. And on the style front: black suit, black shirt. Should have ditched the white or silver tie and worn the shirt open at the neck.

I suppose if I came away with a positive, it was Thomas Hampson. Not that he actually sang anything from opera, which was remiss in an opera house (but see above). He sang a Mahler song cycle, which was all well and good, but in the absence of surtitles or printed words, and without any prior warning, those of us who didn't previously know the cycle were left guessing as to what it was about. It sounded impressive and I got the distinct impression he was telling a story. I also liked the two songs he sang from his upcoming American song CD.

I know a lot of people have tended to be understanding and forgiving to the ROH in what were trying circumstances. And I stress once again that they offered a full refund at every stage of this saga.

But I did think - suppose I had paid £80 for a stalls seat, and ended up with a recital I wouldn't have paid £30 for at the Barbican. Because of the circumstances, it would have been far better to cancel than to present a ragbag of unconnected works without anything that resembled a structured programme, and, with the exception of a rather fine Pearlfishers' Duet from Hampson and Calleja at the end, nothing that actually involved the various non-Pappano participants singing together.

And of course, I am very grateful for the artists who agreed to perform at such short notice, although I assume they also got an appearance fee none of them would have budgeted for.

Despite what you may think from this review, I did enjoy the show, although I am sure that is largely due to the convivial company, and the several glasses of wine rather than to the substance of the concert.

The Best of Andrew Lloyd Webber

Not merely the best of ALW, but the Best of him as played by the BBC Concert Orchestra. That is, without words.

I swear that I did not buy this. Possibly it fell off the front of a magazine, more likely,  judging by the inlay card, and specifically the phrase Licensed from Ian Summers Promotions, this was bought by some fiancé of mine who shall remain nameless to save his blushes. In his defence, the only place he buys CDs is in pubs when people come round selling rejects from jukeboxes.

And you can see why this was Rejected from Jukeboxes.

I am not a fan of Andrew Lloyd-Webber. I have slightly enjoyed several of his musicals and very enjoyed Joseph, especially but not exclusively because of Jason Donovan. I just think that ALW is massively over-rated by those who think he's the bee's knees. Disposable derivative formulaic pop (and rumour has it he doesn't even write his own orchestrations).

But were I to be a massive ALW fan, taking comfort in the predictable melodies and confusing their familiarity and easy-digestibility with greatness, I would buy the Original Cast soundtrack album. Or I would buy a compilation album culled from various OCs, featuring the big hit songs with the singer who made them famous. Or I would buy an album with a variety of really great singers taking on the Lloyd Bank's opus. I wouldn't buy an orchestra-only album.

I can see such an album having some use in some bar or restaurant which wants insipid background music. On the other hand would you want to eat in a restaurant that plays instrumental Lloyd Webber as background. I know I wouldn't! Perhaps these tracks have a place in a much larger compilation called Familiar tunes that don't offend too many people if played not too loud. Catchy it ain't.

Carols from Kings - not good

It's the same every year, I put it on, hoping for some enjoyable music.

And every year I am disappointed.

It's rubbish. Really rubbish. Every single carol they sing sounds exactly the same. It's like they have a set formula and that's all they do. All they can do.  A total lack of understanding that different pieces are written in different ways. No consideration that they maybe have different tempi, maybe within the same tune. No grasp of the fact that some of them have rhythm.

This was epitomised by Three Kings from Far Off Lands, which, in my experience and opinion is quite a funky tune. You would never have guessed it from the way they sang it. The whole thing was so dreary. I was just hoping for the organist to open the stops and do a crashing fugue, or for someone in the choir to put their head back, relax their shoulders and sing out with joy. It was never going to happen

I am critical of Katherine Jenkins because the way she sings everything without differentiation in tone and without seeming to care about the meaning of the song. So I shouldn't spare these who are no less guilty.

To think that this programme is broadcast over the world as some example of Best of British. It's quite shameful, really, and hardly surprising that people in more civilised countries, and the USA too, consider Britain to be a musical backwater, knowing little and caring less.

The whole thing reeked of amateurism and provincialism. In reality of course, there are lots of exciting musicians performing great music intelligently and/or passionately the length and breadth of the country. But all we get is a bunch of effete snobs being on the TV just because they have been (and radio) for decades.

Obscure musical borrowings

I am ever so slightly fascinated by how pieces of pop music derive form classical. Some are obvious such as Beach Boys' Lady Linda. In some people don't believe me - Bee Gees (and Steps) Tragedy from Siegfried's Funeral March. In Which Decade, Mike drew my attention to Saint-Saens "Organ" Symphony/ If I Had Words - Scott Fitzgerald & Yvonne Keeley with the St. Thomas More School Choir.

Last week I put on a CD of Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings, which I've had for years, and immediately thought "That's Deacon Blue's Goodnight Jamsie"

I am currently listening to Penella's Il Gato montes and I hear Sylvia Vrethammar's Y Viva Espana. I suppose it's conceivable they both 'borrowed' a folk tune.

Tasmin Little goes busking

Playing great music in unexpected locations

Feeling a tad guilty at invading the homeless man's patch, we approach him to explain. He gives Little's violin the once-over, then asks, in an Italian accent: "Is that a Stradivarius?" He, like the violin, is from Cremona...Towards the end of the first movement, Little is recognised for the first time. A couple in their early thirties do a visible double-take: their legs almost buckle with astonishment. "It's Tasmin Little, isn't it?" they cry. "What's she doing here?" Then they plough on. Did they recognise her straight off? "Yes - but actually, we're members of the Philharmonia Orchestra..." But wouldn't they want to stop and listen? "We'd love to - but we've got to catch a train!"

And the paragraph that is worthy of filing under 'how many ways do (some) parents hate their children':

We're about to call it a day, when the most striking incident of all takes place. Another family is passing, with two children aged about six and four. The four-year-old girl stares at Little and wants to stop. Her mother pulls her hand. The child seriously wants to stop. A veritable tug-of-war ensues. The little girl plants her feet solidly on the ground and won't budge. She's absolutely determined to stop and hear the music. In a desperate last-ditch attempt to catch the family train, her mother simply scoops her up and carries her away. We watch, jaws dropping. If this is all the encouragement children get when they want to sample good music, no wonder the country's classical culture is in dire straits.

Search special

I post stuff on here with barely a glance to my Site Stats

(Actually, that isn't - I analyse my Site stats with anxiety and know that, like it or not, I've got to keep posting about Pláci; and if I ever saw Jonny Wilkinson naked I'd be click, click, clicking away merely for the sake of blogging).

Sometimes I post stuff and don't even think how the Googlers will pick up on it.

But in the past week or so a surprise hit (to me) has been - Art Thou Troubled?

Art thou troubled? Music will calm thee Art thou weary? Rest shall be thine Music, source of all gladness heals thy sadness at her shrine. Music, music ever divine. Music, music calleth with voice divine.

Doesn't matter what music you like, for me, at any rate, those words are divine. Made celestial by the music of Handel, but, wow! Fucking amazing. And my Googlers say so, too! About to be elevated into the Gert Pantheon of Vital Quotes

Music Meme

Picked up from the internet!

The instructions were to put my music player on "shuffle" , ask the question and then push "play" to see what comes up.

1. How does the world see you?

Salut! Demeure chaste et pure (from Gounod's Faust)

2. Will I have a happy life?

Single Girl: Lush

3. What do my friends really think of me?

Mein lieber Hippolyte (from Struass's Rosenkavalier)

Hippolyte was queen of the Amazons, a tribe of women warriors

4. Do people secretly lust after me?

Angel - Adam Ant

5. How can I make myself happy?

Bella figlia dell'amore (from Verdi's Rigoletto)

Well, I wouldn't over-analyse the libretto, but listening to music as superbly beautiful as this will at least lift the spirits, if not guarantee everlasting happiness.

6. What should I do with my life?

Some Might Say - Oasis

7. Will I ever have children?

Somedays I See the Point - Billy Bragg

It's not a helpful answer to this question, but a fabulous anthem for life:

Never saw a meaningful tv advert, I don’t think shopping is a metaphor for life
Don’t waste my time at the gym in the morning, try to keep trim by living my life

Every day and in every way Billy speaks to me.

8. What is some good advice for me?

Wild is the Wind - David Bowie

You touch me, I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
You're spring to me, all things to me
Don't you know, you're life itself!

9. How will I be remembered?

High and Dry - Radiohead

Never high, rarely dry...

10. What is my signature dancing song?

Voulez Vous - Abba

11. What do I think my current theme song is?

The Housatonic at Stockbridge - Charles Ives

12. What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

North Sea Bubble - Billy Bragg

13. What song will play at my funeral?

O Come Everyone That Thirsteth - from Mendelssohn's Elijah

14. What type of women / men do you like?

Pursue thy Conquest (from Purcell's Dido & Aeneas

15. What is my day going to be like?

Art Thou Troubled? (from Handel's Rodelinda)

Art thou troubled? Music will calm thee
Art thou weary? Rest shall be thine
Music, source of all gladness heals thy sadness at her shrine.
Music, music ever divine.
Music, music calleth with voice divine.

When the welcome spring is smiling,
all the earth with flow'rs beguiling after winter's dreary reign,
sweetest music doth attend her,
heavenly harmonies doth lend her,
chanting praises in her train.

Fabulous

I don't tag people and when I'm tagged I have a mental block, but the challenge is yours, should you wish to take it!

* I currently have about half of my collection on Zerlina

The Embarrassing CD

I held out posting this until after midnight, because while it was playing I looked at the date and gasped - it was seven years ago to the day (yesterday).

I bought this for one reason and one reason only. Indeed, I watched it on TV for one reason and one reason only. Part of my contract with myself is that I will play every CD and tape in the collection without fear or favour. But I have to say, I did fast forward through that dreadful speech by the odious brother and through the drippy prayers from the drippy archbish.

I only bought it because an ex-boyfriend of mine played the organ at Diana's funeral. Not that he actually gets a namecheck, oh no. Stupid bloody Royal Family - he only played his organ for an audience of 4 billion but not one bloody name check.

But if you listen, I'll think you'll work out who the actual star of this of this CD is. Forget your Chuckie Spencer and your Srelton John, and your Tony Blair.

The undisputed star of the CD of Diana's funeral is the Organist. And not one name check on the CD.

He played marvellously, of course...

Yn gwneud benyd

Yn cael made rhyw anti - Cymraeg sylwadau rhyw fisoedd yn �l Fi awron angen at arddangos a fi m mo 'n sylweddol anti - Cymraeg*

This is the sort of 'crossover' that works - almost. I say almost, because I can't for one moment see the point of Aled Jones singing Bridge Over Troubled Water. Actually, I don't really see the point of Aled Jones.

Two discs bought from a souvenir shop near Caenarfon Castle on my last week of Welsh Office Agriculture Department audit - The Great Welsh Male Choirs and C�n o gymru

A good mix, partly of Male Voice choirs, which I adore, and some facinating solo stuff. Especial favourites , a very percussive Gwŷr Harlech, sounding as if recorded in a steam railway station; Stuart Burrows singing Calon L�n; There's A Valley Called the Rhondda; the Llanelli Male voice Choir in a marvellous Amazing Grace; We'll Keep A Welcome;Take Me Home; Coedmor; one of the best 'Hebrew Slaves' in my collection; Gounod's Soldiers Chorus, as you've never heard it before; and 5,000 voices singing Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

But the very best of all, a playagainagainagain song is Morte Christe - When I Survey The Wondrous Cross. Many things divide the Welsh and English, but in my sincere opinion, this is the greatest divide of all.

If you are English and have ever been to Mass at Easter, especially on Good Friday, you will have sung When I Survey, to a really crap tune. Why? When there is this amazing Welsh tune, sung here by 1,000 voices of the North Wales Male Choir Association. It's not the (pre-refurb) Albert Hall organ that makes the hairs on my arms stand up - it's the tune. And those Welsh Male Voices. I just love the masculinity of them, the fact that they're always measured and controlled...

*Okay, I don't speak Welsh - at all - but even I know it's a computer generated translation, from the internet

Divas

Two compilation albums: Ultimate Divas was bought on a sultry evening at Dupont Circle, almost exactly five years ago. An interesting range of singers, from Billie Holiday to Annie Lennox, and introducing me to some singers that were previously only names, names I really need to explore further. One of the songs is Gladys Knight's Midnight Train to Georgia. An indifferent song, but we had arrived in Washington on an overnight train from Boston, and later flew out to New Orleans, changing planes at Atlanta Georgia.

Highlights include Lena Horne's Stormy Weather; Dinah Washington's What A Difference a Day Makes; Toni Braxton's Unbreak My Heart and of course Judy Garland singing Over The Rainbow. Worst song of all is Aretha Franklin 'singing' Nessun Fucking Dorma.

Divas of Jazz was bought just over a year ago as a lunchbreak retail therapy. Fortunately, "Jazz" is a very loose term; instead it contains a range of good songs that are vaguely related to Jazz, and a few Classic Jazz numbers. Highlights are All That Jazz - Ute Lemper (from Chicago); Billie Holiday singing Stormy Weather (I think I like Stormy Weather...!), Peggy Lee singing Black Coffee (although I prefer kd lang's version...); Love and Affection - Joan Armatrading (you know, I would have hated this when I was a kid); Ella Fitzgerald's Manhattan; Erma Franklin's (Take A Little) Piece of My Heart; and Dinah Washington's Cry Me A River.

We joke that PP Arnold's Angel of the Morning is my theme song - because I don't do mornings, right!

A very special mention should go to Dinah Washington's Mad About the Boy, especially the words, which, I think, will strike a chord with all of us who indulge in Celebrity Crushes®

Mad about the boy,
I know it’s stupid to be mad about the boy,
I’m so ashamed of it, but must admit
The sleepless nights I’ve had about the boy.
On the silver screen,
He melts my foolish heart in ev’ry single scene,
Although I’m quite aware that here and there,
Are traces of a cad about the boy.
Lord knows I’m not a fool girl,
I really shouldn’t care.
Lord knows I’m not a schoolgirl,
In the flurry of her first affair.
Will it ever cloy?
This odd diversity of misery and joy.
I’m feeling quite insane and young again
And all because I’m mad about the boy.

Written by Noel Coward

Pressies

I've got none.

But my sister warned me they would be delivered between the 6th and the 9th. But I've now had a peak, and this is what I shall be getting: The Oxford Companion to Music, The Complete Flanders and Swann and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time.

From my fiance I'm getting a dirty weekend. I expect nothing from my brother. Seeing as though he has not yet received his Christmas pressie from me...!

Down with the 'Queen'

The Grauniad asks: Does Britain have the world's worst national anthem?

Regular readers will know that this is a lietmotif of this blog - here, here and here.

It's a bit pathetic that three quarters of a million people can take to the streets in a benign display of positive nationalism and not actually have a National Anthem. God help us if Swing Low is adopted, though. It sounds just about tolerable when sung by a gospel choir. Chanted tunelessly by a crowd of varying musical ability it really is quite awful.

Hoffnung

Mike Troubled Diva's Aunt Cyn mentions Flanders and Swann, and helpfully provides a link to Amazon. Before I clicked on the link, I had a distant memory slide in from the recesses of my mind and googled for Gerard Hoffnung. For some reason, they are indelibly linked in my mind, a distant memory of an autumnal Sunday post-lunch when my father played his F&S and Hoffnung records (vinyl? They were 78s...) and I devoured the cartoons from the bookcase with the glass doors.

Amazon helpfully tells us that people who bought Flanders and Swann also bought Hoffnung. So it's not just me.

I. will. not. commit. more.money. to. Amazon.

Consequences...

It started binning it down at lunchtime. I knew I had to be out of the office when pizza and champagne was served.

I dashed over to the station, but realised that I did not fancy a walk down Victoria Street. I had my brolly with me but did not fancy battling the umbrella-wielding wave of civil servants. Just to buy a sandwich and return to my desk would take barely quarter of an hour. So I went to WH Smith - not exactly the best record shop, even on Victoria Station. Ouch, I spent far too much money. I bought:

• Divas of Jazz;
• Songbirds;
• Chick Flicks The Sequel;and,
• Classical Gold

When I got them home, I looked in horror...I don't like Jazz...

But on first hearing - thus far, incomplete - I would definitely recommend Divas of Jazz. As long as you like a tune, and a bit of mood, don't let that ghastly word, Jazz, put you off.

Or am I getting middle-aged?

Music

Currently playing: Gorau Corau Meibion Cymru and cân o gymru.

Really amazing music. In the eyes (ears?) of some, probably naff music.

I don't care.

Music is the greatest power on earth. Music is closer to emotions than anything else. Music is how to worship your God without the corrupt intervention of religion. Music articulates better than words. Music is more passionate than sex. Music is the key to dancing. Music paints bigger pictures than artists.

And plagal cadences twang a very particular string of the heart.