Abstract
Arnold sets out to examine the nature and remit of sacred music in a modern secular world. The first part of his work looks at the creation and performance of sacred music both within and without a religious framework, considering such questions as the role of text in composition, the consequences of the composer’s own faith for his work, the impact of sacred music stripped of its confessional nuances and presented in a concert hall, and the added layers of meaning when cultural and historical contexts are made clear. The second part explores the reception of sacred music in a secular society: its power to build connections with the divine and create a pathway to faith, regardless of how God is named or described. Another important theme here is the necessity to engage fully with music, to make time to listen and enter into a ‘deeper reality’ (p. 149), so that the music may facilitate a numinous encounter. Arnold’s conclusion is that in order to maximize its spiritual value, sacred music should not be identified solely with organized religion. He argues that music’s ability to take its audience beyond the ordinary and towards a transcendent experience is not compromised by its performance in a concert hall rather than a church. What is necessary, however, is the highest possible standard of performance by informed and wholly dedicated musicians. The future of sacred music is thus affected by a decline in classical music education in schools, an issue which is only partially addressed through various initiatives for young people.
There is much to enjoy in Arnold’s book. The strands of thought under consideration are brought to life via interviews with two composers, two conductors, two church music directors, a singer, a liturgist and a theologian; all are professionals of international renown, highly distinguished in their various fields, and they share their opinions freely. (Respectively, James MacMillan, Robert Saxton, Harry Christophers, Peter Phillips, Stephen Farr, James O’Donnell, Francis Steele, Rowan Williams, and Roger Scruton. There are no female representatives, which naturally raises ancillary questions regarding the status and achievements of women in these spheres.) The interview transcripts and Arnold’s extrapolations from this material set out the overlapping but distinct perspectives of his dialogists. The common thread which links the interviewees is their familiarity with the polyphonic choral tradition of the English church, that great canon of high liturgical art from Renaissance to modern. This commonality positions the discussion within quite specific socio-cultural parameters, as Arnold and his contributors are all British. A comparative study with international and inter-continental dimensions would make interesting reading.
Arnold’s statement that ‘this work is for you if you have ever been moved by a piece of music or felt your spirits raised by the sounds of harmony’ (p. 14) is a little glib. Full engagement with the book’s deliberations can only be achieved by a reader who is familiar with sacred vocal polyphony. Notwithstanding its generous ‘sacred music’ title, there is a consensus between Arnold and his interviewees that music which is overtly emotionally manipulative—evangelical and folksong styles and saccharine compositions by some popular contemporary choral composers—does not fall within the ambit of ‘good’ sacred music. When Arnold says his book is for anyone who has been moved by music, he actually means anyone who has been moved by Palestrina, Victoria, Bach, Pärt, or any of the acknowledged master composers, past and present.
Despite referencing a variety of scholarly secondary sources, Arnold chooses not to engage on a profound level with his subject matter. Discussing the sincerity of a composer falls short of a critical researcher’s remit. He declares that ‘no other art form comes close to opening up the pathways to experiencing the inexpressible divine’ (p. 109). If this is in fact the case, we are no closer to understanding why at the end of Arnold’s book. Ultimately he is guilty of circular argument: the music is great because it touches our soul, ipso facto it touches our soul because it is great. Neither does Arnold specifically deal with liturgical music as a subset of sacred music, where the words of the liturgy are sung and music thereby becomes an integral part of the theandric, mediatory aspects of the divine.
Superficial though it may be, Arnold’s work brings to light some crucial aspects of modern secular society. Principal among these are our increasingly limited attention span and demands for instant entertainment. Active listening to large-scale musical works requires time, a commodity often in short supply. A willingness to spend time listening to good music is likely to enrich our spiritual resources, regardless of confessionality; thus, more consideration needs to be given to the programming of cultural events so that art can be incorporated into busy working lives.
Jonathan Arnold is presently collecting data via two online surveys, through which he intends to gather data on emotional, psychological and spiritual responses to music. If interested, see http://www.experienceofmusic.org/.