I’m ending the last weekday of the Jewish High Holy Days with the final movement of Bernstein‘s Chichester Psalms. You can read about the piece and hear the first movement here. The second movement is famous for a beautiful solo sung by a young boy, singing the popular text “The Lord is my shepherd …”; this serene solo is contrasted by a choral “why do the nations rage …”.

The final movement, however, is my favorite. It opens and closes with music identical to what you hear in the beginning of the first movement, making this a cyclic piece (that’s a fancypants word that just means that musical material you’ve heard before comes back in a different movement or section, solidifying the multi-movement work as a “complete thought” as opposed a separate ideas pasted together for the sake of making a concert. The most famous example of this is the lover’s theme of Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique.) But after the angular melodic opening (it uses quartal harmony – harmony based on a wider interval (a fourth) as opposed to thirds (the longstanding standard)), the music melts into a gentle swaying lullaby. The meter is 5/4 – five beats per measure; this is also out of the ordinary, but Bernstein succeeds in making it feel completely natural. It also helps prevent the lullaby from falling into a “too-much-of-the-same-rhythm-seasickness”. The melody is deceptively difficult to sing; the close chromatic notes are hard to keep in tune.

After the lullaby, the cyclical quartal melody returns, but soft and sweet, with a feeling of gemütlichkeit. It’s almost like a mother rocking her baby to sleep, and as she puts it down in the cradle, she whispers the words of the psalm, “how good and pleasant it is …”

Like any career field, the world of musicians contains many different types of people. It’s easy to focus on and revel in the glory of the superstars of composition or performance. That being said, equally important is the work of the average working musician – the ones who are doing the grunt work, toiling in the fields (so to speak) and bringing music directly into people’s lives. I’m talking about the music educators, the local church/synagogue musicians, the music therapists, the local choirs, bands & orchestras, whether professional or volunteer.

I’m one of these people – a church musician. We are just as much artists as the superstars, but we don’t get all the glory; a generous portion of the work we do is not fun. But while we may not often get a chance to be center stage, we do get to see regular people transformed by the work we do in a way that the superstars don’t. A superstar might release a stellar CD, but that CD can’t uplift a person the same way joining a choir can. A superstar might astound a crowd of thousands with a great performance, but I think we “lesser” musicians are far more likely to prevent a suicide. A superstar might compose a masterpiece, but often a choir takes ownership of a simpler piece which speaks to them.

Continuing with the celebration of Rosh Hashanah, here is a sacred gem by Max Janowski, who was not a superstar. Like me, he was “just” a music director at his congregation. Like me (I hope), and the millions of other “lesser” musicians throughout the world, Janowski’s work has enriched, and will continue to enrich humanity.

Today marks the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashanah, and the beginning of the High Holy Days. This festival comes from a biblical command God gave to Moses:

In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe a day of complete rest, a holy convocation commemorated with trumpet blasts.

Trumpet blasts? Sounds good to me. How about Leonard Bernstein‘s Chichester Psalms? Bernstein only wrote a handful of religious works; you could argue that his Kadish Symphony and Mass are better described as anti-religious. The Chichester Psalms is unique in his repertoire as having a positive spin on religion, even if it isn’t backed by any belief on his part. The piece bears an English name because it was commissioned by Chichester Cathedral. It is often performed in a slightly strange reduced instrumentation – organ, percussion, and harp. Though they are often found in synagogues, the organ here perhaps acts as a symbol for Christianity, while the harp and percussion call to mind the ancient Hebrew psalms. In the first movement (today’s piece) they sing from Psalm 108:

Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn.

With the synthesis of Jewish and Christian instruments, the Hebrew text, and an Anglican Cathedral’s name on the piece, makes me want to see this work as a symbol of healing between the two religions.