Friday 27 April 2012

On the Music Group Being in the Image of the Triune God

I had a bit of a rant the other day about "proper" versus quire music. And you may not be aware, but in my salad days I used to be the cello-player in a folk/rock/worship group called "Elijah's Babies". Which is why I tend to favour the Mellstockian in all things music-worshipful, I guess.

I've always thought there's something rather wonderful about being in a band as opposed to being a soloist. And we players of bass instruments notice it most of course. It's like an image of the trinitarian model of God - the way that the different instrumentalists have to offer up their different roles to God, each other and the congregation. There's something of an epiphany about the way the keyboard player has actually to look up; to recognise s/he is in a group; to stop playing all the lead notes during verses, recognise there's a vocalist to do that and a bass player to do the bottom line, and a guitarist to fill in the mid-range - and just play the stuff that makes the whole thing just right. The rhythm section keeping the show on the road, the bass/cello/serpent/left hand of the keyboard player adding the depth that brings us to the profoundest place of worship - each playing their part, and then yielding to the other in their turn.

I remember one day, we were playing the Cropredy Folk Worship Gathering, and we were scheduled to play the inevitable "Be thou my Vision (Celtic Style)". We'd got it just right in practice. Started quietly - just tabor, voices and a bit of cello for the bass (a lovely, stabbing, short stroke). Then building, bringing in the other instruments until the last verse when, bringing the song to a crescendo, we threw the kitchen sink at it. Quite literally, actually. Throwing a kitchen sink at a dinner gong has a lovely effect, I always feel - both exotic and yet homely at the same time.

So we were ready. Me and Bodhran Bill looking intently at each other, ready to move the audience - I mean, congregation - with this most evocative of songs. We waited, as we always did, for that moment of perfect peace when the anticipation of the gathered worshippers created a still point - a thin place, if you will, into which the music would be breathed into that first chord.

Of course, you know what happened,  don't you? Terrified by an extended period of time (ie about 30s) in which he had nothing to contribute, Ivor the Ivories launched into a traditional church-style introduction. At the wrong speed. In the wrong key. In the wrong key signature.

We can laugh about it now, of course. But in fact at the time it was a great learning experience. In particular, I learned it's very hard to remove Irish Harps from round the necks of organists without taking their ears off. Terrible, sticky-out ears, keyboard players.

8 comments :

  1. I hate to seem smug (I am smug , of course) but your anecdote illustrates the need for a leader. I imagine that this anarchic approach to music is another example of the post-modern that goes with being folksy. It's nice to have someone up front to start everyone off together... whether the choir or group takes any further notice once the ball is rolling is another matter...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I do not believe that any group needs a leader separate from the group in order to accomplish things. Amazingly enough, people can actually govern themselves nicely as long as "the person who starts things off" is another job description within the group dynamic that AE has so eloquently put forth in this post. And it is much more organic and magical if that happens without the direct knowledge of the listeners - if the music were to seem to simply appear without effort or precognition.

      Delete
  2. ...I don't see any value in organic or magical in the context of music performed for an audience, sorry congregation... My reading from other of the Archdruid's posts is that her 'services' are fairly organized and controlled...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm just glad this post included the kitchen sink, without it something, well quite a big thing, and impact would be sadly missing, no matter how small a part it played!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm impressed that such an ensemble could produce 'Be thou my vision' on anything except a pipe and barrel organ.

    I always find those places in worship songs or hymns or sung services, where lusty singing has an unexpected pause, the organ goes silent as does everyone else, and I sound off as if there is no pause, pretty frustrating. Why do they do it, for effect? or just to confuse the unwary (and they don't come any more unwary than me).

    If you are writing an essay, you don't insert a grammatical pause for effect, there isn't even a symbol for it - so why do composers do it, and musicians revel in it.

    After a series of red faces, I now mime away to those songs, so that at least if I'm embarrassed, its only for making silent mouth movements and not a noisy croak in the middle of silence.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "you don't insert a grammatical pause for effect," ..... Oh, I don't know ....!

      Delete
    2. Fourwheeler... you've a point!

      Delete
  5. I am sad for everyone who has never experienced and enjoyed spirit-filled music that weaves itself into the service seamlessly without being so straight up and down organ/choral style. It's wonderfully peaceful and refreshing. It has to be done well or not at all IMHO, no awkward grand pauses or weirdness, just contemplative music in the style of Bob Dylan or others of his ilk. I do cherish Bach and Buxtehude, but well-played folksy music is equally spiritual.

    ReplyDelete

Drop a thoughtful pebble in the comments bowl