Unitarian Universalist Church of Palo Alto

Reflections on Music and Identity

Kathy Lewis
George Bunn
Philip Hodge
April 29, 2001
Palo Alto, CA

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Kathy Lewis (Worship Associate):

My preference in music today is classical. I like to listen to chamber music or music from the time of Bach and Handel. In college I discovered 19th century Art Song, and it stole my heart. I sing these more than any other solo music. It I also love religious choral music from the Renaissance to today, although most of it was written for Catholic or Lutheran Services. I admit that being a classical music lover is an identity that I embrace with a little sense of being one of the "enlightened few". However, classical music has not always been my musical identity.

My identification with music began very early. My mother had special songs for each of us. My sister's song was "Here we go looby-loo". My brother Roger had a song in French, "Fais- do-do, Roger mon petit frere". David was born just about the time that Walt Disney's Cinderella was released. For reasons that none of us remember, he was called "Mr. Boo" and his song was "Bibbity-bobbity-boo". Mine was,

"I've a dear little dolly, with her eyes all bright blue.
She can open and shut them, and she smiles at me, too.
In the morning, I dress her, and we go out to play.
But I like best to rock her at the close of the day."

It was not until fairly recently that I was able to articulate why I have ambivalent feelings about being identified as my mother's dolly. Memory being the unreliable thing that it is, my sister remembers my song as "Lavender's blue". Maybe it was, too.

As I've related before, one of the formative experiences for me, and for my family, was our participation in the church Children's Choir. Here, I learned hymns, many anthems, and lots of fun music which we sang outside of our Sunday Service. Our director had quite clear ideas about what music was appropriate for Worship, and what was not. Many of you may have had similar experiences. He tried to draw on the religious music from the European traditions, but also introduced music of Max Janowski, writing for local Jewish synagogues. We learned lots of folk songs, but our director was very clear that he considered them inappropriate for formal worship settings. The church had an organ, so the prelude, offertory and postlude was drawn from the traditional church organ literature. This experience certainly shaped my identification with certain music and worship.

In high school, my social group was also my church Liberal Religious Youth group. Our leaders introduced us to folk dancing, partly because there were many line dances, and dances where the partners changed frequently. It removed a lot of the anxiety associated with asking a partner to dance. This was the early 60's, so we also were swept up in the swelling of interest in American folk music. Several members learned to play the guitar. There was a bit of rebellion against the main-stream teen culture in our group. WE didn't just follow the popular song fads. WE sang folk songs. I knew at least 100 of them.

My mother's family were German immigrants and brought her up to understand that an educated person was able to play an instrument. There is a family joke that one of my great-uncles married his wife because they needed a cellist for the family trio. Somewhere along the line, my mother passed the idea that rock music is OK for teens, but you'll grow out of it. My Dad has much more eclectic taste. I first heard Broadway songs, Dave Brubeck, Ravi Shankar, and other music at his house. But, he also loves classical music. He learned to play the bass in middle age and joined a local community orchestra. At age 85, he still plays in a community orchestra in Albuquerque. And, although he became a Unitarian in college and has attended and supported UU churches ever since, he now also plays in a Baptist orchestra on Sunday mornings, in one of those theater style churches, because he says the music at the UU church is not very good. The choir only sings once a month, and that's not enough for him.

Would I like to have the older style hymns and classical music as our solo music every week? No, I wouldn't. I think that Jim Stevens brings wonderful sensitivity to the services that he sings. I loved the drummers and the Irish duo that we had this past month. We have had a Japanese bamboo flute player several times in the past. His music is so strange, but so evocative that it blows me away. I remember one summer service. Tomas Moran was leading the service. After the prelude by this man, Tomas got up to do the centering, and said, "If you are not centered after that, no words of mine are going to help."

I am very sensitive to the quality of the performers, however. Too often, people bringing folk music or New Age music were just not very good musicians. I don't think that I need to be open and tolerant of mediocrity. I also don't like it when the classical music seems to be selected without thought to its place in worship. Sometimes we get a piece that shows off an incredible virtuosity, but it draws our attention out of worship and onto the performer. For me, just because its classical, doesn't make it appropriate.

Our sound system isn't very friendly to recorded music, but we have had occasional services with it. I couldn't select something from Patti LeBelle or Bruce Springsteen, and I struggle to even be able to name pop, rock, or country performers, but I'd be willing to try it. I admit, however, that when the youth have had their music played in the service I found it frustrating because I couldn't understand the words. I wouldn't want it every week.

Sometimes people have suggested that the music that they love doesn't seem to have a place in this church and in worship. I have also heard speculation that many people coming to church today do not have a church experience from childhood. They hear the music that we have in the service, the hymns, the anthems, and solos and it is all unfamiliar, and they feel alienated and put off.

Historically in Europe, church music has been deliberately different than music composed or performed in the court or concert hall. I think that this has come from a sense that church is a special place, and that one of the ways of marking the time and place of worship is by providing music that is distinct in its style. The chants used in Youth Worship, the drums, the Irish music, and for some, classical music may provide this sense of rightness because it is not YOUR usual music.

On the other hand, Martin Luther, a monk and trained musician, and his fellow Lutheran composers created a new musical style for the Lutheran services. They "invented" the hymn style that those of us who have attended traditional Protestant churches immediately recognize. They drew on popular secular song melodies for some of them, and composed some, but made "simple" settings that would be sing-able and appealing. They wanted people to feel comfortable in church. It worked and these hymns are still the mainstay of most church's hymnals.

So, in closing I ask you to consider how your identity with music or lack of identity with it affect you? If the music isn't to your liking, is the entire service dissatisfying for you? Are you wary of "more variety" because you are satisfied with the music we have? It is easy to talk about valuing diversity. It is easy to congratulate ourselves for our tolerance. This is where the rubber hits the road. How do you get the worship experience you crave every week when somebody else is choosing the music?

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George Bunn

I have often been inspired to tears by our Sunday musicians and by singing in the choir when Alva succeeds in getting us to express the emotion the music was meant to express. When, for example, Veronica performs for the opening, the offertory and the closing, I often have a strong emotional response. But this never seems to happen for me when we sing hymns. If the hymn is meant to express emotion, and some UU hymns are, I think it is hard for the congregation to express that without practice and rehearsal. The choir couldn't do it without rehearsal under Alva's direction.

The spiritual values I find in church are closely related to what moves me.

I come from a rational education and rational professional practice. What is different for me at church is that which arouses my emotions - besides, of course, the community I feel here. This is a "left brain", "right brain" thing. I connect spirituality with emotion not reason. Music, while it stirs my emotions, and sometimes the stories of the congregation or the pointed stories of the Worship Associates and ministers are where I find the greatest spiritual value, not in the hymns.

I wish I knew how it would feel to be free

This music is much more like the music heard outside of church. It has popular and gospel roots. Does this style make you feel welcome or do you feel uncomfortable with it? Perhaps you feel that it is not appropriate for formal worship. Perhaps you feel energized and connected with it. It is some of the most extroverted music that we have in the hymnal.

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Phillip Hodge

"My name is Samuel Hall, Samuel Hall
My name is Samuel Hall, Samuel Hall
Oh my name is Samuel Hall,
And I hate you one and all
Aye, I hate you one and all
God damn your eyes."

I have always been a generally happy person, but there are rare occasions when I feel temporarily down in the dumps.

When this happens I try to go for a solitary walk where no one can hear me, and I start singing. In keeping with my black mood, I start with "Samuel Hall." Years ago I had a wonderful 78 album of Carl Sandburg songs, and I do my best to imitate my memory of his rendition. He really put feeling into the words, sometimes almost speaking them rather than singing, and freely varying the tempo. In some verses the final line, "God damn your eyes," comes out in a venomous whisper.

Usually singing all the verses once is enough, but if my mood is sufficiently black, I may sing it two or even three times.

Eventually I realize that I don't really want to damn anyone's eyes, and I start singing various ballads such as "Abdul the Bulbul Ameer," "Frankie and Johnie," or "Clementine", all of which have a death theme. Even though I sing them but rarely now-a-days, I still remember almost all of the verses.

With each song my mood lightens, and now I am ready to move on to more cheerful ballads such as "A Capital Ship", "The Road to Mandalay," or "Short'nin' Bread." Then come some of the popular songs of the 30's: "Stardust", "Red Sails in the Sunset," "In the Still of the Night," "The Music Goes Down and Around", to name just a few. Wold you believe that I still know the words to most of them?

By now I am my usual optimistic self, and I'm ready for the finale. The body of my "concert" may vary from one time to another, but it always begins with "Samuel Hall" and it always ends with the three verses of "Oh what a Beautiful Morning" from "Oklahoma."

And so, as I return homeward,

"I've got a beautiful feelin',
Everything's goin' my wa - ay,
Oh. what a beautiful day!"