Abstract
This article explores the burgeoning interest in biblical studies in the use of the Bible in music, as a medium and as an ever fresh way of expounding and expressing the stories and sentiments of the Bible. It looks at some recent scholarship on the Bible and music and then goes on to look closely at a sample book, that of Ecclesiastes, to see which texts have been used as inspiration for musical expression and in what ways that has evolved in ever fresh historical and cultural contexts. It is seen that particular themes such as time (Eccl 3:1-8), the fate of humans and animals (Eccl 3:9-14) and that of ‘vanity’ (the repeated refrain of the book) have been of particular interest to librettists and composers.
Keywords
It is hard to imagine any religious worship without a musical element. Music is a fundamental accompaniment to the words that form our confessions and beliefs in almost any religious tradition known to human beings. Music kindles within us an emotional response and stimulates spiritual feelings and prayerful praise. The singing of hymns, for example, in the Christian tradition allows us to sing out the richness of theological belief through the poetry of the hymn writers and through the medium of inspiring music.
The Bible has always played a key part in musical tradition, the words of the ancient text being an inspiration for composer and performer alike. To take the example of the hymnal again, biblical themes are often encountered within the poetry of hymns and our familiarity with them would be much lessened for their absence. The hymn book contains many psalms in the form of metrical psalms, which means that they have been adapted to rhyme more easily to fit with a neat, hymnic structure, e.g. The Lord’s my shepherd, Psalm 23. 1
We know from stories within the Old Testament that music played its part in biblical times. Perhaps the most famous example is the psalms, which were clearly intended to be sung, and David has the reputation for having composed and sung at least some of them, 2 and of having played to King Saul to soothe his troubled soul (I Sam. 16:23). Older scholars such as Stainer (1914) and Gressmann (1903) wrote on the nature of biblical music-making in a historical and cultic context.
As well as music being a medium for our knowledge of the biblical text and a way of making ancient texts known to a wider public, it is interesting to turn that around and ask how in fact those musical renditions give us a reverse insight into the biblical text itself. How, for example, our hymn writer presents biblical themes or texts is of interest as an act of interpretation of the text and may well enrich our understanding of the meaning of that text in our own time. And it is not just hymn writers, in fact much of this paper will focus on the librettists of classical music who presented biblical stories and ideas through the medium of oratorio or opera or other choral media, this being the most obvious way of combining inspiring words with suitable music. Furthermore, it is not just classical music that deserves a mention here–modern popular music also uses biblical texts, often in a rather hidden and subtle way. The place of the Bible in popular music from Bob Dylan to U2, for example, is explored in a growing body of secondary literature, as containing Christian themes. 3
Interest in the interplay between musical expression and the biblical text is a growing area in biblical studies. This focuses on both present interpretation and those of the great composers and librettists of the past. It tells us much about the cultural transmission of the Bible over the years leading up to the present day. Whilst historical questions such as the kind of harp David might have played to Saul (I Sam. 16:23), or how exactly the psalms might have been rendered on the kinds of musical instruments that were available in biblical times are still of interest, biblical scholars are moving away from those questions towards a concern with the history of cultural interpretation of biblical texts in ever new contexts. In John Rogerson’s article, ‘Music’ (2006), which provides a good overview of the method, he acknowledges the fact that it is natural that the biblical interpreter comes from a more literary and libretto-orientated angle than a musical one.
Some scholarly interest has centred on the composers of the music, e.g. Deborah Rooke (2012) on Handel’s oratorios, whilst further interest has addressed particular biblical characters or books, e.g. Helen Leneman (2007, 2010) who comes from a Jewish performative tradition and focuses as much on the character of the music as the librettos. I myself have written on the book of Job from this perspective, in particular on renditions of the text in oratorio (Katharine J. Dell 2013) and in the English choral tradition (Katharine J. Dell, 2014).
Wider interest from theologians also looks at music as a psychological and spiritual phenomenon, at its language, at its liturgical role, at its role in the context of faith and so on. An example is the extensive work of Jeremy Begbie, who has explored, in a Christian context, the way music can illuminate understanding of mysterious theological truths (e.g. the Incarnation, (Begbie 2000a)), and the way its performative nature can give fresh expression to our understanding of living within time, in the moment and to “our theological wisdom about time–time as intrinsic to God’s creation” (2000b: 271). Begbie favours looking at the music itself–its notation and effect upon us as humans–rather than at the words. He writes, “I largely leave to one side music strongly tied to words, texts, narratives, liturgy and other particular associations. I concentrate on music in its more abstract genres.” (2000b: 6). I, however, choose to put the emphasis here, as seems right for a biblical scholar, upon the biblical texts used and upon the interaction between the two mediums of words and music.
My more limited focus in this article, then, is to pursue an interest in the librettos and biblical renderings contained in musical works with an accompanying focus on their cultural transmission. More specifically, here, my aim is to take a particular text–in this case, Ecclesiastes–and see how it has acted as an inspiration for composers and librettists of all types from across the ages. This is not a text that has widely inspired musical rendition and would certainly not be the first text one might turn to, but I have chosen it as a contained example, which brings us right up to date as well as having been an inspiration to some composers of the past and some in the present day.
The Poem on Time: Eccl. 3:1-8
I wonder how many people realized, as they sang the song by Pete Seegar in the 1960s, entitled “Turn, turn, turn”, that they were essentially repeating the words of Ecclesiastes, that most pessimistic of wisdom books, in the poem on time and its repetitive quality in Eccl. 3:1-8. This song was performed by The Byrds and reached number 1 in the charts in the USA in December 1965. It was based on the Authorized version of Eccl. 3:1-8: To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
And the song itself reads: To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn) There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn) And a time to every purpose, under Heaven A time to be born, a time to die A time to plant, a time to reap A time to kill, a time to heal A time to laugh, a time to weep To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn) There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn) And a time to every purpose, under Heaven A time to build up, a time to break down A time to dance, a time to mourn A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn) There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn) And a time to every purpose, under Heaven A time of love, a time of hate A time of war, a time of peace A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn) There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn) And a time to every purpose, under Heaven A time to gain, a time to lose A time to rend, a time to sew A time for love, a time for hate A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.
The only additions were the words “Turn, turn, turn”, which neatly disguise the citation but also provide an interpretation on the passage by drawing out the repetitive patterns of life, and the aside in the last line “I swear it’s not too late”. Occasional lines are omitted (e.g. “a time to keep and a time to cast away”) and interestingly quite often the order is changed–sometimes for reasons of rhyming (e.g. “reap” “weep”), but otherwise it seems that the motivation is to put the positive sentiment first, unlike the biblical author, e.g. “a time to laugh, a time to weep”. There is some repetition at the end, e.g. “a time for love, a time for hate” with small word changes (“for” instead of “to”). The song has an upbeat rhythm and betrays little of the world-weary feel of the original text. The text has been seen as evidence of predestination of human lives by God. However, this rendition is basically rejoicing at different facets of a rich human life, with a slight suggestion, in line with the original, that what goes around comes around in human life, from one generation to another, in a repetitive fashion. This is how, in a sense, we can go on engaging with biblical texts, especially those within the “wisdom literature”, 4 –these texts are about human experience which hasn’t substantially changed from millennia ago to now. In its context in the 1960s this song was a celebration of “counter-culture”, celebrating human activity freed from social constraints–it was a time to dance, a time freed from “giving the right impression” or “doing the right thing” in a narrow social sense. More recently, U2 used the idea of “a time for everything under heaven” from Eccl. 3:1-8 as inspiration for the soundtrack to a documentary version of “Miss Sarajevo” (Bono, Three Sunrises, 2004). The song uses the refrain “is there a time for…?” couched as a question.
In the more classical vein there are some examples of settings of Ecclesiastes, although compared to settings of other texts, such as psalms and well-known narratives, they are rare and thus few and far between. There is a work from the mid-twentieth century that appears to use this text, although in a piece without words. This is the work of American composer, Norman Dello Joio whose Meditations on Ecclesiastes for string orchestra, although not set to words, uses each half verse to express a different sentiment–so “a time to dance” has an upbeat melody, contrasting with more mournful music for the mourning and death sides of the “time” coin. Dello Joio wrote this in 1956 and won, in 1957, the Pulitzer Prize for Music for it. We can get an impression of the music from the titles he gives (from Eccl. 3:1-8) accompanied by his musical notations. His introduction is “largo and solenne” (slow and solemn)–“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” is the title. The theme then emerges to the heading, “A time to be born, and a time to die”, to be played “adagio con sentimento” (slowly with emotion). Then “A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted” is to be played “soave e leggiero” (softly and in a leisurely manner). We move to “grave” (funereal slowness) for “A time to kill” but to “larghetto” (ambling) for “a time to heal” to “animato” (lively) for “a time to break down, and a time to build up”. Back to “adagio” for “a time to weep and to mourn”, but “spumante” (sparkling) for “a time to dance and to laugh”. For “A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing” there is an “adagio liberamente” (liberally slow). “Con brio molte deciso” (with decisive movement) for “a time of hate and of war” and “adagio morendo poco a poco” (slowly dying little by little) for “a time to love and a time of peace” at the end. At every stage then the changes of mood of the music express the words of the poem. This piece was premiered in 1956 as a ballet of approximately 22 minutes length. Indeed it was commissioned by the Juilliard School with the title “There is a time”.
The theme seems to be popular amongst recent English composers. Jonathan Willcocks wrote in 1980, for the Portsmouth Choral Union, a cantata for baritone, chorus and orchestra entitled “For Every Thing there is a Season”, based on Eccl. 3:1-8. This is part of a larger piece–Voices of Time—that includes movements inspired by pictures by William Blake, who was famous for his artistic portrayals of biblical texts, notably of Job, and Psalm 39. John Rutter, more recently in 2008, wrote a sacred anthem for Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass entitled, “To Every Thing there is a Season”, based on Eccl. 3:1-8. The theme of time naturally draws composers to this famous text.
The question is raised whether in any sense these musical renditions illuminate the passage at hand. It has long been thought in the scholarship that Eccl. 3:1-8 may represent an independent poem, inserted by Qoheleth into his book. Its poetic nature and rhythmic refrain suggest this. Of course the poem may predate the author or be a composition of the author, and in many ways it provides a companion to the poem in chapter 11 on old age. The passage thus lends itself as a subject for musical use by its rather separate nature and by its repetitive feel. It seems to convey a certain predestination in its sentiment that the “times” are fixed (by God) and that human beings have simply to accept life’s possibilities and challenges as they occur.
The Fate of Animals and Humans (Eccl. 3:19-22)
A passage in the same chapter of Ecclesiastes, 3, but later in the chapter–3:19-22–has also been of inspiration to musicians, notably Brahms in his Vier ernste Gesänge. These songs were written in German, in Vienna, in 1896, a year before Brahms’s own death and at a time when other friends were ill and dying and when he too was suffering ill health. It represents well his deepening spirituality at this difficult time. The first “serious song” is based on this text from the Lutheran Bible edition, the second on Eccl. 4:1-3, the verses immediately following. The other two are on Sir. 41:1-2 (on death) and 1 Cor. 13:1-3, 12-13 (on love). For baritone and piano alone, the only setting of a biblical text that Brahms ever did for solo voice, 5 they represent a reflection on the transience of life, on death as the great leveller, on the fate of the poor and on the ultimate power of love. It is often commented that the fourth seems out of place, with an accompanying change from minor to major, and the strong change in sentiment, as well as the use of a New Testament text. Yet arguably, even the texts he uses from Ecclesiastes are not entirely pessimistic, 6 and the composer is presumably trying to get a sense of progression of emotion across the work. 7 The first song is Andante in D minor, the second Andante in G minor. The first has a funereal feel with a stormy section within it, and the second is in similar vein with a sepulchral tone. The music, then, enhances the text through the use of different moods and through the piano accompaniment as it anticipates themes taken up in the voice. The text in turn invites the uncertainty in the music in its repeated use of questions about existential themes and in its dark moments, e.g. 4:3, “better than both is the one who has not yet been” (NRSV). As Beller-McKenna writes of the text of Song 2, “Not only does death negate the advantages we thought we held in life (the message of the previous song), life itself, we now are told, is not worth living in the first place” (1994, 207). He sees this sentiment as “the darkest moment in the cycle” (1994, 211). 8
Denn es gehet dem Menschen wie dem Vieh; wie dies stirbt, so stirbt er auch; und haben alle einerlei Odem; und der Mensch hat nichts mehr denn das Vieh: denn es ist alles eitel. Es fährt alles an einem Ort; es ist alles von Staub gemacht, und wird wieder zu Staub. Wer weiß, ob der Geist des Menschen aufwärts fahre, und der Odem des Viehes unterwärts unter die Erde fahre? Darum sahe ich, daß nichts bessers ist, denn daß der Mensch fröhlich sei in seiner Arbeit, denn das ist sein Teil. Denn wer will ihn dahin bringen, daß er sehe, was nach ihm geschehen wird?
Ich wandte mich und sahe an Alle, die Unrecht leiden unter der Sonne; Und siehe, da waren Tränen derer, Die Unrecht litten und hatten keinen Tröster; Und die ihnen Unrecht täten, waren zu mächtig, Daß sie keinen Tröster haben konnten. Da lobte ich die Toten, Die schon gestorben waren Mehr als die Lebendigen, Die noch das Leben hatten; Und der noch nicht ist, ist besser, als alle beide, Und des Bösen nicht inne wird, Das unter der Sonne geschieht.
The “vanitas” theme
The vanity sentiment comes into the citation from Eccl. 3:19-22 (3:19, “alles est eitel”) and is reiterated throughout the book of Ecclesiastes. Whilst the “vanitas” theme predominates, it does so most pervasively in Eccl. 1-2. Accompanying a movement in fine art in the mid-sixteenth to mid-seventeenth-century Renaissance period that sought to portray human fragility in the face of death, was a similar movement in music and the vanitas theme was ideal subject for both movements. It is particularly in Dutch art of the period that there was much interest in still life with timepieces, dead animals and human skulls to represent the vanitas theme. Paintings were entitled Vanitas Still Life or contained the inscription “vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas” (Eccl. 1:2). Human figures often featured (e.g. David Bailly’s Vanitas Still Life with a Portrait of a Young Painter, 1651) and there is some portraiture also ascribed to the genre. In music, alongside the “vanitas” painting tradition emerged “vanitas” choral and string music. The fleeting nature of music seemed well to fit the theme.
Perhaps the most famous score, made up of eleven pieces, is that of Carissimi, Vanitas Vanitatum I and II (composed between 1620 and 1677). Many of the words are directly from Ecclesiastes, all cited from the Latin text of the Vulgate. There are also some non-biblical sentiments, but the atmosphere of the whole fits the vanitas theme well, and the refrains of “vanitas vanitatum”, or “omnia vanitas” are frequently repeated. The music is for solo voices and chorus, although sometimes the chorus is only two parts e.g. Sopranos 1 and 2. Instruments used include archlute, double harp and keyboard. Part I treats “La vanité des hommes” and opens with the 1 and 2 soprano chorus singing “Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas” from Eccl. 1:2 and elsewhere in the book where “vanity” acts as a refrain (Eccl. 1:14; 2:1, 11, 15, 17, 19, 21, 23, 26; etc). Then the first soprano enters with a musing on how the rich are brought low, then the chorus of sopranos refrains “Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas” and then the second soprano sings a section again on how the mighty are fallen. Elements of stories of kings brought low in Lk. 16:19-22 and Dan. 2-3 are hinted at in Part I but it has the character of a musing on a theme rather than citation. Part II is entitled “Contemptus mundi” (contempt of the world) and again the chorus of sopranos open with the same “Vanitas” refrain, which returns a number of times, echoing the biblical book. Whilst much of Part II is again more thematic reflection than biblical citation, a little more of Ecclesiastes features e.g. 1:13-14 is cited by the opening tenor solo and 1:17 features in the following Cantus Primus section but with part of 2:3 added. This is followed by chunks of the ‘royal testament’ section, e.g. 2:4-6 sung by the alto and 2:7-8 by the bass, again punctuated with the “vanity” refrains. Eccl. 2:8 and 10 are taken up by the Cantus Secundus and then the chorus reminds us of the “vanity” again. The piece then seems to move on to more general musings on the vanity of all wealth, pomp and high position in the light of the common human destiny of death. A rhetorical questioning form is used in a long final chorus section featuring repeated use of “Ubi?” (“Where?”). Thus sentiments of Ecclesiastes are built upon without being strictly cited. The vanity phrases are cited again at the end and form the refrain of the whole. These kinds of motets were formative of the oratorio genre. The chorus is often just two lines (Sopranos 1 and 2) but then later grows to 5 parts, Soprano 1, Soprano 2, Alto, Tenor and Bass.
A more recent British composer, Granville Bantock, has also been attracted to the vanitas theme. He was not apparently a particularly religious man, but this theme appealed to him, along with Chinese philosophy, Shakespeare and Greek and Persian poets. His a capella choral work, Vanity of Vanities (1913) uses extensive selections from the book in English. He was attracted to the simple and beautiful language of the King James version of Ecclesiastes and to using its very familiar phrases, and so he remained faithful to that text, only altering the order of verses to fit his thematic movements from time to time. The piece contains seven contrasting movements:
‘Vanity of vanities, said the Preacher’ (Eccl. 1:2-11 with the poem on the cycles of life and repetition of v 2b at the end: “Vanity of Vanities, all is vanity”.)
‘I said in mine heart’ (selections from the “royal testimony” section, Eccl. 2:1, 4, 7a, 8, 10, 11 with some omission of verses and of individual phrases [e.g. “and of the provinces” in v 8]. This is an unusual movement in that it has more musical interlude between verses, often humming or chanting. Verse 11 echoes the vanity theme of Movement 1 in an effective way.)
‘Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly…’ (Eccl. 2:13-20, 22-23 with, again, the ending “This also is vanity”.)
‘To everything there is a season…’ (Eccl. 3:1-8–the poem on time.)
‘I returned, and saw under the sun…’ (Eccl. 9:11-12; 6:4-5; 5:15; 6:12 with some omission of short phrases.)
‘Go thy way…’ (Eccl. 9:7-10; 9:5-6; 11:7-8 further verses–ends again with “vanity”.)
‘Rejoice, O young man…’ (Eccl. 11:9-10; 12:1-8 with interesting repetition of the beginning of the cycle at the end–i.e. “vanity of vanities, all is vanity”.)
In contrast to Carissimi, Bantock opts for large choirs (preferably up to 400 singers) and he asks for a 12-part choir for this piece, with six different voices in each, two to a part (minimum 144 singers). He very effectively matches the tenor of the music to the text, the mood often changing from phrase to phrase, a good example being 1:6, “the wind whirleth about continually”, the sound of which is portrayed in the speed and hurried scales in the music. Each movement has its own character and closely follows the changing, almost contradictory, moods of the author of Ecclesiastes. It has an overall pessimist air, more upbeat in vi and vii, but ends on the downbeat sentiment of vanity rather than with the fear of the Lord as in the epilogue to the biblical book. The repetition of the vanity theme is a uniting feature that gives the work its overall mood–another often repeated phrase is “under the sun”, as also in the biblical Ecclesiastes. Thematic selections of verses include reflections on the cycle of life, time, chance, youth, old age and death.
Conclusion
As with most biblical books, certain parts of Ecclesiastes have proved themselves of more interest to composers than others and in this book the author’s preoccupation with time has clearly grasped the imagination from classical to modern times. A book such as Ecclesiastes, which is in the wisdom literature of the Old Testament and treats universal themes such as time, chance, determinism, the meaning of life and death has a particular resonance for our modern world on all kinds of cultural levels, and music is among those expressions. In this article I have attempted to draw attention to a burgeoning area of interest from within biblical studies and have pointed the way for future explorations of the musical theme from this starting-point. Musical rendition is a highly personal and artistic matter, as is its appreciation so it is hard to provide any kind of valuation of the innate worth of various renditions of the Ecclesiastes texts. One could argue that the “repetitious nature of time” and “vanity” themes are the two keynotes of this book and hence that those works that relay these sentiments are being closer to the sentiments of the original than other renditions that stray from such paths. Clearly where the text is cited, one feels a closeness to the original that just musical rendition alone cannot portray. Long citation from the text, on the other hand, perhaps detracts from a certain free artistic expression. Interest in rendering Ecclesiastes seems to have been piecemeal over the centuries, but the timeless nature of a book that is essentially about the human condition makes this an enduring source of inspiration for generations to come.
Footnotes
1
2
The entire psalter is traditionally ascribed to David as “the Psalms of David” but also individual psalms are ascribed to him with the phrase “Of David”. Sometimes they indicate a context of singing or composition at a particular time of David’s life (e.g. Psalm 3, “when he fled from his son Absalom”). Whilst many would take these attributions as honorific nowadays, it is hard not to believe that there was a nugget of truth lying behind the tradition.
3
See Catanzarite (2007) who views U2’s album ‘Achtung Baby’ as a metaphor for the fall of man (
).
4
5
The German lieder tradition at this time tended to prefer to set folk songs or other secular sentiments to music and biblical texts were reserved for oratorios and choral pieces. This factor may have influenced Brahms’s choice of these texts from Ecclesiastes, which do not mention God and are less overtly religious.
6
, Brahms’s Late Spirituality/Hope in the Vier ernste Gesänge, Op. 121, argues strongly for a hopeful element running through all four songs and for the four as a unity e.g. in Eccl. 3:19-22 there is the sentiment that “all should enjoy their work”. See Church’s in-depth discussion of the first two songs, pp. 13-33.
7
8
disagrees, seeing this sentiment as simply emphasizing how this life can be filled with suffering to the extent that non-existence seems attractive, and goes as far as to see an implicit hope for a comforter in the citation of 4:1 which refers to “the oppressed – with no one to comfort them” (NRSV).