Blog 5: Music and Time
In this week’s listening, I best connected with James MacMillan’s work because of the dynamic sounds. To contrast this, I decided to also listen to John Tavener’s work as my second mass. I don’t know a ton about music in general, so intelligibly stating my opinions on it is stressful as I fear it will come off wrong. Though my terms might not be polished, I think that I had a better understanding of the music themes than I anticipated I would at the end. I would strongly argue that these two masses have contrasting ways of approaching the materiality of time through theological worship, however through different techniques, they still both achieve the purpose of bringing one closer to understanding God’s time.
To first summarize what I collected from listening to MacMillan, theological music must be dramatic. MacMillan kept me on my toes, particularly in the Sanctus and Benedictus. I felt like his music almost hurt my ears because it was constantly all over the board in voice range, and I’m not really sure if there was good sounding harmonizing (at least in my opinion). There were ups and downs (and all arounds) in his songs, but it does clearly reveal the narration of the mass as a dynamic event. I know that MacMillan is supposed to be an example of a very physical entrance into the temporal of sound because he certainly follows Begbie’s tension and release, as well as reshaping affections.
Now I will organize what I understood from listening to Tavener. I really appreciated the power given to the human voice in his songs. The deep tones contrasted with the lighter ones perfectly, and I almost felt like I was listening to an orchestra. In general, the sound created reminded me of the opening or closing credits of a dramatic movie. This isn’t meant in a negative way, just that the flow remained consistently slow and predictable, while still sounding compelling. The music creates this space that allows for meditation of the words sung because of the repetitive structure. To be honest, I wound up personally preferring this to MacMillan’s mass. It made me feel comfortable (I totally understand the “escape” it creates from time). I know that there are arguments that Tavener doesn’t address the gruesome aspects of Christ’s life, but, especially in the Gloria, I felt like the passion (adjective not Christ’s death) was there. Maybe I don’t have as profound of a musical taste, but I felt emotionally moved. Truly, the only beef I had with him was the metaphor of an umbilical cord (I feel like a “backbone” or “pillar” would have sufficed, and it’s a little weird to compare your music to the straw of the amniotic sack).
These masses are fundamental opposites. MacMillan completely engages with time, encouraging participation and an active entrance into the temporal. The tension and release in his work elicits this drama that references Christ’s sacrifice. Listening doesn’t distract the participant from the mass, but helps them enter deeper into what is going on, creating a physical connection to the spiritual elements of the event. Tavener evades time, ignoring its existence in order to focus only on the music at hand. I prefer to not consider it a distraction, however, because that gives a negative connotation to a beautiful ethereal art piece. While it travels in a contrasting direction to MacMillan’s in relation to time, Tavener creates a safe place to exist, to simply be and that’s all, in communion with God. It focuses less on the materiality of time, and more on immaterial thoughts that the music produces.
While I do think MacMillan comes much closer to materiality within music in his artistic approach, I found that both masses produced an understanding of oneself outside of the average realm of time. MacMillan does this through engrossing the music in the intensity of Christ’s life. One is drawn farther into temporal space, providing a potential connection to God’s time as you become increasingly aware of His presence. The mass gives the sense that this is really happening right now, that God is present within this space and time, and He is with you. Tavener enters into this time less actively for certain, with this meditative “escape”. There isn’t as great of a chance to feel God through the tension of the music perhaps, but I think that it falls more under the label of hearing God through the pauses and silences like Chretien suggests. Tavener creates a space for conversation with God, focused on meditative listening, rather than active physical engagement on the human side. Tension can obviously be a great addition to theological music, but the lack of it in Tavener’s work creates the unexpected benefit of genuine mindfulness and awareness through repeated sounds. I found the music let me process the intense emotions I was feeling as they arose, instead of being overwhelmed by actively feeling conflicting emotions and anticipating the next sound in MacMillan’s songs.
