Vibrating Elements of the Soul: Composers on Sacred Music

swieta_lipka_organy_fot_przemyslaw_skrzydlo_ag_2011_prz110809_128-s.jpg, default, The organ in the Marian Sanctuary in Święta Lipka, photo: Przemysław Skrzydło / Agencja Wyborcza, center, #000000

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In November of 2022, the second edition of the Joy & Devotion Festival will be held in London, at which renowned choral ensembles will perform the music of Polish composers living between the 13th and the 21st century. What do the creators of those pieces say about writing sacred music?

‘I hope this will not be considered blasphemy on my part, but the role of an artist is to attempt at competing with the Creator,’ said Wojciech Kilar in his interview given to Anna Sekudewicz in 2001, immediately after the Warsaw première of Missa Pro Pace, his millennial mass for peace. ‘I mean, it is an attempt, of course, in our earthly terms, at repeating the act of creation.’ Kilar emphasised that, apart from a creator and a performer, a work also requires a recipient:

And it is the audience who decides whether anything has been created at all, that is, whether it is alive or just a dead foetus.

The audience gathered in the St Martin-in-the-Fields Church at Trafalgar Square will hear his Agnus Dei, a rarely performed piece of very sparing form, at a slow tempo.

Henryk Mikołaj Górecki was another master of musical slowness, and once he remarked: ‘All conductors want to enliven my music, but this is not what I intend. You need time to listen to Górecki’s music.’ During round table discussions at the Academy of Catholic Theology in 1988, the Silesian composer said:

To me, music is a result of religious concentration and meditation. All notes sketched on the staves represent comments on those issues and things that I see and live through. I enjoy what I see and admire That Person who created all these things.

During the Joy & Devotion Festival, the first British performance of Veni, O mater terrae and O, mater semper alma, two compositions from the Church Songs series focusing on Marian theme, will take place.

And what can other composers whose works will be presented at the London festival say about their attitude towards the sacred in music?

What is spirituality in music?

przybylski dariusz.jpg — Dariusz Przybylski, photo: dariuszprzybylski.eu

Dariusz Przybylski: Music is spirituality.

Jan Krutul: Music contains an undefinable element that makes the strings of our souls vibrate. Some works, performances, concerts, are an experience of an encounter with beauty in its purest form. It is like submerging into a depth reaching far beyond the sounds alone.

Roxanna Panufnik: I think that spirituality and music are closely related to each other. They are not something tangible, they cannot be touched.

Aleksandra Chmielewska: To me, spirituality in music is a consequence of an act, a completely extraordinary one, of ‘encapsulating’ human energy in the work, and transferring some kind of personal vibration from the creator onto the work of art. I consider art to be one of the most perfect forms of manifestation of spirituality in the temporal world – this was very interestingly discussed by Wassily Kandinskiy in his treaty Concerning the Spiritual in Art, which I find greatly inspiring.

Furthermore, this is a very extensive concept. I am interested in spirituality, and intensely seek its traces in the world, but it should be emphasised here that I do not consider any religion as the one and only true belief.

Marcin Łukaszewski: This term can be understood differently in non-Christian religions; furthermore, we will approach this issue differently in different Christian denominations. In my opinion, spirituality in music does not refer solely to sacred music, and a much better term for it —confessional music (i.e., associated with faith)—was proposed by Professor Stanisław Dąbek. After all, spiritual music, that German Geistliche Musik, may refer not only to the religious theme, but, e.g., to the inner experiences of a composer; however, we should bear in mind that the creator will understand the feelings they want to communicate to the world differently than their audience.

In other words: spirituality is something that moves us, forces us to think, sometimes contributes to deepening of faith, and in other cases, the recipient may approach sacred music completely indifferent to its religious aspects, focusing purely on its aesthetics. Spirituality may be interpreted differently by liturgists or consecrated people, and differently by composers. For example, even a Mozart’s minuet or a Chopin’s Prelude could be holy for Górecki or Kilar (they mentioned this in their interviews). It all depends on the composer’s intent.

Michał Ziółkowski: I think that spirituality in music can be found in those of its elements that I am not able to name. I do not believe in sacred music as a genre. In my opinion, a sacred text does not define music as sacred. I strive to reserve this term to the type of art that has an extraordinary power of influence. I treat the history of music as evidence that we are still bound by a kind of tradition, that there is a certain continuity of creation, which is somehow comforting.

What is sacred music?

Миниатюра — Roxanna Panufnik, photo: Paul Marc Mitchell / Promotional materials of the artist

Roxanna Panufnik: Music helping to express the message of the accompanying text, emphasising its meaning to the listener.

Marek Raczyński: My own personal definition of sacred music does not necessarily correspond to the definition included in Church documents. To me, sacred music is the kind that enables a man to experience the immaterial and extrasensory reality. It is music that takes us away from our daily lives, makes us face important questions about the significance of our existence and the meaning of transience. It is music that invites us to look deeply into ourselves and find an answer to the question: ‘What do I truly believe in?’

Jan Krutul: Not every religious music is sacred. The sacrum touches on the mystery, searches for an immaterial, transcendental dimension. A sacred text alone is not enough, if it is only a pretext for sounds that are pleasing to the ear. Sacrum means entering the richness of meanings that go much deeper than the layer of words. In my opinion, through its characteristics, music is the form of art that comes the closest to the sacred sphere. After all, the angels before the Throne of God do not sculpt, paint, nor dance, but sing the eternal Sanctus.

Marcin Łukaszewski: This question cannot be answered with one sentence. Many years ago, I dedicated an entire chapter of my PhD dissertation to that issue. And so, this subject can be understood in the same way as it is in the Catholic Church documents (e.g., chapter VI of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council), i.e., as holy music (musica sacra), associated with liturgical rites. However, this is a relatively narrow understanding. Composers interpret it more extensively, because they do not write it solely with the liturgy n their minds, but also (or maybe mainly) thinking about it being performed at a concert, sending the score to a competition, or recording it. There are also different levels of presenting a subject associated with religion – it can be a religious text (and here we also see different levels —usually, when creators use Latin—these are liturgical texts, but they can also be poems on religious subjects, sometimes single words, like Amen or Hallelujah, etc.) they may have a form of quotations in instrumental works e.g., from a liturgical monody (commonly known as Gregorian chant) or Polish Church songs, or the very title that suggests such themes. Of course, there are also operas, oratories and other works on religious subjects. Therefore, the most encompassing term would be ‘music on religious subjects’, which covers church, sacred, and religious music, Gregorian chant, and many other.

Briefly speaking: for many artists, sacred music is a way to express their faith and is associated with a need to communicate their feelings to a wider group of recipients, sharing that aura with them. Frequently, you can come across the opinion that not every religious music is sacred, that sacrum is something more than the religious subject alone.

Aleksandra Chmielewska: I am not sure if I can answer that question, because I do not identify fully with any religion. The term sacrum is associated with the highest form of energy that is the closest to God, the most enlightened. Following in the footsteps of David R. Hawkins, I believe that we – artists – (just as all other people) are at various levels of awareness and, therefore, we are the 'carriers' of spiritual content of various quality. Thus, composers who are at the highest levels of awareness (enlightenment, peace, joy, love), have access to spiritual content that is the nearest to God, the nearest to sacrum. And their music carries the same ‘divine’ energy.

Dariusz Przybylski: Sacred music is intended to enrich our experience of spirituality.

How do you approach the history of music?

Roxanna Panufnik: I often use cantus planus – I love its lack of regular metre and its tones of other-worldliness.

Marek Raczyński: My attitude to the history of music is best expressed by a quote from one of Umberto Eco’s essays: ‘Bernard of Chartres used to say that we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size.’ We arrived into the world where the achievements of the creators of past ages are a fact. We can develop them creatively, we can dispute them, but it is rather impossible to deny their existence. Personally, in my own compositions I frequently refer to works created in past ages. I use them as an inspiration or as a starting point for my own artistic explorations.

Thumbnail — Jan Krutul, photo: fb.com/jankrutulofficial

Jan Krutul: No newly created work grows out in a vacuum it is somehow rooted in the culture. It blooms drawing from tradition, starting a polemic or a dialogue, or breaking away from it. In the intertextual culture, we strive to build our own musical worlds, but in each case the work is embedded in a context. In each epoch, an artist could look back at works of their predecessors, contributing to the development of music. From today’s perspective, we see and experience works of Bach, Mozart, or Penderecki, but works yet to be created are hidden from us. This makes me approach the history of music with respect, as I can draw from this trove of achievements of earlier composers.

Aleksandra Chmielewska: I occasionally use tonal harmonies and old proven composing techniques, like, for example, fugato or fugue. However, I try not to mimic idioms of specific composers, and do not use overly literal inspirations, to avoid limiting my own sensitivity. Nunc scio vere, commissioned by Sławomira Raczyńska and the Minimus ensemble, which by assumption referred to music of Wacław of Szamotuły, represents an exception to this rule. In it, I referred to the composer from Szamotuły’s work of the same title, using, among others, quotations from his composition.

Michał Ziółkowski: Whether we want it or not, we conduct a specific dialogue with history, for example, by creating music for texts that were developed earlier. When I compose music referring to (I hope) sacrum, I am inspired by silence and anticipation. Usually, these are special moments in my life, of which I think as being at the border between the light and the shadow.

Dariusz Przybylski: I am fully immersed in the history of music, so I find it difficult to reply to this question.

Which artists or phenomena inspire you when composing music referring to sacrum?

Marcin Łukaszewski: Drawing from the history of music when writing music focusing on religious subjects seems to be very important, because the authors frequently refer to, e.g., Gregorian chant or church songs, by using quotations or stylisations. Today’s sacred music has much more in common with the centuries-old history than with the twentieth century avant-garde, hence the return to tonal writing (as we know, terms like new tonality, neotonality or new simplicity have emerged). I have found Gregorian chant inspiring, but I treat is as a motif, sometimes as a quotation, and not as a base for development of a given work.

Singing in a choir for 10 years, I learnt countless choral works, both sacred and secular and they definitely became embedded in some area of my mind, to resonate later in my own works. This cannot be separated. I can list H. M. Górecki, F. Poulenck, F. Mendelssohn, E. Whitacre, A. Pärt, or J. Tavener among composers writing for choirs who had the greatest influence on me, though I do not refer to them directly in my works. Furthermore, J.S. Bach’s chorales and motets, or Renaissance polyphony are also inspiring, but in my own works, I strive to express my feelings, and then I do not think about whether a given work can be similar to someone else’s from the past. I definitely find inspiration in masses, prayers, sometimes natural phenomena, or, simply, specific people, their requests for a work. E.g., Pie Jesu for a mixed choir, which will be performed for the first time during this year’s festival in London, was created spontaneously when I was deeply shaken by the death of my friend. However, usually I look for the inspiration in the text for which I write music and try to express its meaning through music itself.

Aleksandra Chmielewska: It is hard for me to specify them I try not to limit my sensitivity by idealising a given composer or by observing ready-to-use solutions. Definitely, to a lesser or greater extent, I have been influenced by Paweł Łukaszewski, who was my professor when I studied at UMFC and made me sensitive to various aspects of choral music, developing my skills in this area of composing.

Marek Raczyński: Considering creators, there are so many of them that it is impossible to list them all. I find my inspiration in Medieval and Renaissance music, but also in the works of the twentieth century avant-garde or in compositions of my colleagues. I never know which fragment will become a grain of sand that I will strive to coat with my music. I just know that I need such grain to start my work.

Jan Krutul: I greatly value composers who create mystic worlds, combine voices in a web of harmony. I find worlds of Eriks Esenvalds, Paul Mealor and Arvo Part, as well as Krzysztof Penderecki and Paweł Łukaszewski particularly close to my heart. As a conductor, I love to reach for new works of young Polish authors and, together with a choir, enter the world of sounds created by them.

Dariusz Przybylski: Bach and space.

What is a choir? What composing possibilities does it offer?

Aleksandra Chmielewska: To me, choral music is a completely different world than instrumental one. In my opinion, writing for a choir means more technical limitations, but at the same time, more freedom in selecting aesthetics. Choral music does not have such great aspirations, to be avant-garde, novel, or unconventional, and thus it provides a space for values such as beauty, softness, or euphony to excel. These categories are very close to my heart, so I feel very much at home with choral music.

Marian Sawa: I am happy to write for a human voice. Especially, I greatly enjoy composing works for children and youth. I also like writing for male (because there you can reach a tone similar to that of organs), mixed, and women’s choirs. (after http://mariansawa.org)

Roxanna Panufnik: The choir allows you to communicate religious messages in a beautiful and very human way. Harmoniously blended voices represent something that we should pursue in all areas of our lives. If a choir orders a work from me, I usually want to meet it before I start working. And hear it, for their faces and voices to inspire me during the process of composing!

Marek Raczyński: A choir is probably one of the most organic performing instruments. It has a great potential in terms of expressing emotions and reaching the audience; it uses a word that is a carrier of extra-musical meanings. It is also a very capricious instrument, susceptible to the influence of a given moment and external conditions. The choir has extraordinary tonal possibilities resulting from the specific nature of singers’ voices and their interactions, but at the same time, significant limitations in the scale.

When composing for a choir, I try to use my knowledge and experience to achieve the intended musical effect. However, I always assume a certain safety margin, being aware that the same work can be performed by different choirs in different conditions.

Jan Krutul: I consider the voice to be the most beautiful instrument – it is a part of us and it fully engages performers. The choir is a joint creation of beauty in a harmony of voices. It does not just mean singing together, but it is a cooperation, in consequence of which we are united by a shared thought and a shared emotion. To me, choral music is the most beautiful form of art.

Marcin Łukaszewski: A choir? This is also a question that can hardly be answered with one sentence. On one hand, it is a group of people, frequently, in the case of amateur choirs, of great social importance. On the other hand, it is a performing instrument. Not every composer has the necessary skills to write for a choir. In my case, I was greatly helped by the fact that I had sung in a choir for 10 years and knew its possibilities inside out, from the backstage, learning a rich repertoire, abilities of individual voices and their combinations. I also know works written by composers who do not feel at home with this performance medium – they write sporadically or occasionally, and frequently, these works contain rather random composing solutions for a choir. But a choir also limits you, as not everything can be written for a choir. I think it is the tone that is the most important – the choir must sound well and this is worth using in your works.

Michał Ziółkowski: From my point of view as an artist, a choir is the most extraordinary performing instrument. The fact that its sound is composed solely of human voices is in itself somehow symbolical. Technical abilities of a choir are, of course, important and depend on a level of the ensemble’s advancement, but in my opinion, this is not the most important part of the artistic exploration. I think that writing for vocal ensembles is a test of creative sensitivity, during which personal ambitions are pushed to the background.

Translated from Polish by Agnes Dudek

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