I was daydreaming through some of my favorite musical memories and “stumbled” (if you will) on a piece which has a special place in my heart.

I envy Benjamin Britten because he has written a lot of church music that sounds very un-churchy. I too have written music for use in church, and usually anything that pushes any boundary gets panned (or banned) as too weird to be used or downright ugly. Somehow he was able to be creative in his composition, and still got played. When his cantata St. Nicholas was first performed, it was hailed as “pious frivolity”. And it is indeed both pious and frivolous – and also creative while fitting the tight-fitting form of church music.

First of all, this ain’t no Santy Claus musical. This is about the legendary St. Nicholas of Myra who punched heretics at the first council of Nicaea. And like so many saints of the church, the stories about him are utterly ridiculous – so wacky they wouldn’t even make it into a SpongeBob episode. So from the getgo, it’s hard to take this too seriously. But at the same time, there’s a sort of reverence in the work that elevates a historical figure that time and legend have blurred into a superhero. There’s even a chorus that directly asks what the heck are we modern people supposed to make of these looney stories? We learn what we can from them, dismiss what is outrageous, and try to make sense of our own looney times.

So what’s so looney? My favorite number is “The Pickled Boys”. Yes, you read that correctly. During a famine, a butcher killed three boys and pickled their bodies to sell as pork (side note – many suggest that some religions forbid pork because it is supposedly similar in taste to human flesh. Barf.) Nicholas calls out the butcher on his sins, and then proceeds to call the boys forth – which of course they do. Their bodies reassemble in the pickle barrel, and the boys respond by singing Alleluias.

Well that’s good and fun, but now let me tell you about my personal experience performing this work. I was conducting this – full choirs and orchestra – on a hot June day in a church with no air conditioning. We were dripping in sweat. We finally began the closing chorus of the cantata – first a Nunc Dimittis while Nicholas breathes his last, followed by an awkwardly angular anglican hymn (London New, for those who care).

The organ finally opens up to fortissimo during the final verse: “Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head.” At the moment of “clouds … shall break blessings” the skies opened up and utterly drenched the church in cool rain. Right after the final cadence (organ thundering along with the actual thunder), my choristers ran outside afterwards and stood in the rain, soaking themselves. It was about as hilariously joyful as a church cantata could be. The whole place was full of pious frivolity.

Gregorio Allegri: Miserere Mei – Psalm 51 was supposedly written by David after he had slept with another man’s wife. Even if you’re not an adulterer yourself, you can feel the heavy weight of regret in Allegri‘s famous setting of this text.

Herbert Howells: Like as the Hart – Dated April 1941, legend* has it that this anthem was written while the Nazis were bombing London. When I hear it, I imagine Howells crouching in fear in the corner of a dark house, listening to the explosions outside. He’s trying to calm his brain and find some peace. He dreams up music that is misty and serene, and tries to remember a prayer or a psalm to say. Psalm 42 comes to mind: a deer, thirsting for a stream of water. The beginning and ending sections feels unsettled and timeless; the middle section is full of stress and suffering.

*the legend probably isn’t true, since the work lists Cheltenham as the place it was composed – nearly 100 miles away from London. But it creates such a powerful image for this piece!

Johann Sebastian Bach: Cantata 38 “Aus tiefer Noth” – “Out of the depths I cry to you O God.” This piece is based on Martin Luther’s hymn setting of Psalm 130, another popular penitential psalm (P.P.P. – is that even a thing?). Bach magnifies it into a short masterwork. The final chorus begins on the highly unstable V42 chord (nerd alert!) – inconceivable!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvJDnR-bELM

Thomas Morley: Nolo Mortem Peccatoris – A contemporary of Shakespeare, Morley is best known for his madrigals. This sweet little devotional song sets an imagined prayer of Jesus before his arrest, using both Latin and English.

Gerald Finzi: Lo, the Full, Final Sacrifice – This festal anthem is a hymn to the Eucharist. Many prefer this to be sung during Eastertide, I consider it a Lenten piece because of its association with the Last Supper, plus the overall mood of the music: dark and passionate. And, it is one of two anthems I know that use the word “pelican.” (The other anthem that uses the word “pelican” is The Weasel Cantata, which claims to be the only anthem on the dietary laws of Leviticus.)

Giovanni Pergolesi: Stabat Mater – The Stabat Mater is a devotional that envisions Mary at the foot of the cross, watching her son die. The video below is only the first and last movements of a twelve movement work. Like most composers before Beethoven, Pergolesi probably didn’t compose this so he himself could become immortal, so there are some great movements that are great, and some that are … okay. We’ll skip to the best stuff for this one.

John Sanders: The Reproaches for Good Friday – The Reproaches are a set of devotional responses which originated in the Medieval era. The text is written in first person from the perspective of Jesus, who compares instances of God’s grace from the Old Testament to the cruelty of his crucifixion. No musical setting of this text is more powerful than Sanders‘.

Joel Thompson: Seven Last Words of the Unarmed – Another Lenten devotion is known as the Seven Last Words (sayings) of Christ. I’ll be honest and say I’m not really a fan of any of the settings I’ve heard. However, this new work by Joel Thompson is really powerful. Instead of the words of Jesus, Thompson sets the last words uttered by unarmed victims of police brutality. It’s chilling to hear.

Johann Sebastian Bach: Mache dich, mein Herze, rein – I guess I should end on a positive note, for those of you who like happy endings (as for me, give me a miserable ending every time!) This aria is from Bach’s setting of the Passion from the book of Matthew, and is sung just after Jesus dies, and provides a moment of respite from the very turbulent and emotional drama of the crucifixion.

My wife told me a fantastic true story about a performance she recently attended.

The concert was of a large choir. Before the singing began, the director spoke to the audience (I’ve paraphrased here):

“Good evening. One of our choir members has Tourette syndrome, and he wanted you to be aware that his particular tic is a high-pitched squeal …”
tweeeeeeeeee …
“… kind of like that.”
(nervous laughter)
“He’s an important part of our choir and we’re really glad that he’s here with us.”
(thunderous applause)

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how music has become a pastime of expertise. I’m thankful that there are musical superstars and ensembles that play with near perfection. I’m thankful that recorded music allows me to listen to any kind of music, anytime, anywhere. But with these wonderful gains have come a loss of personal music making. Many people are afraid to make music in public, lest it become known that they are not great. Many people abandon making music when they graduate from high school, and many never join a band or choir again.

Think back to the story above. This young man is aware that at any moment, he might make a sound that could mar the choir’s performance. The choir is equally aware that this might happen. But both the young man and the other choir members have accepted this reality and have chosen to sing anyway – and all of them are far richer for doing so.

So, if you are one of those people who “used to” or “haven’t since high school”, let me be the first to encourage you to start again. Join a choir, pick up your instrument, improvise, practice, mess up, have fun, work hard. Give thanks for the inspiration of the experts – but let the best music be your own. Don’t be afraid to make an unpleasant sound – because the good sounds will surely outnumber the bad.

The video below was from the whole concert. The piece that the choir sang is “Dwijavanthi”, an unaccompanied choral work that imitates an Indian Raga, written by American composer Ethan Sperry.

And, incidentally, I wasn’t able to hear his tic at all.