This thread may attract a wild variety of comments from a wild variety of perspectives, tastes, and musical philosophy. That's alright. I don't see anything within reason that is even tangentially germane to be 'Off Topic'. Too, many of us, not just me, wrestle with these questions often in that work of service to God, his People, and the Liturgy that is our calling, our vocation. But putting them into some systematic form is challenging and fraught with institutional hurdles that seem to defy, if not deliberately to prevent, resolution. Nor, though, do we wish to overlook that there are many situations in which we are blessed by our superiors and by people who are appreciative. So -

It has occurred to me in the last few weeks that not much has been said about aesthesis in sacred choral works as they apply to liturgical propriety. More specifically, about the underlying philosophies (there may be a better term) of sacred choral music throughout liturgical history, how and when they may differ, and what, if any, are the timeless, unchanging, characteristics of the same. There are, I believe, compelling rationales and fundamental liturgical principles behind the Church's continued championing of our repertory of historical liturgical chant (calling it 'Gregorian' is increasingly meaningless and inaccurate), and of our repertory of works from the era of the great polyphonists, and of their modern day followers. By aisthesis the Greeks understood 'mental feeling', which extends logically to 'mental understanding'. This is at the root of any and all that we mean when we refer to aesthetics. Aesthetics, as some will be aware, is the target of some abuse by a certain milieu of seemingly insensitive persons, especially those who have little appreciation for what may be seen as demanding their respect in a culture which places little value on matters of 'mental feeling' with regard to what is, objectively, beautiful. Indeed, it would seem that disparagement of the objectively beautiful, of the 'aesthetic' dimension, which is, inevitably, a spiritual dimension, in worship is almost de riguer amongst certain types.

These thoughts were spurred in recent weeks as I studied some old scores, revisited the works of the polyphonic age. What jumped out at me as never before was not the inherent beauty of the music qua music, but of the incredible craftsmanship and the extraordinary musical gifts and conscience which went into the making of it. We all know these things, of course, so this is hardly a great revelation; but the difference of motivation, of mental feeling, of pure , 'scientific' craftsmanship that distinguishes this music from that of later ages presented itself to me as never before. There is a stark difference of motivation, art (kunst), approach, purpose, and objective spirit between the polyphonists and their modern heirs, and those who wrote the majority of church music in the intervening periods. (Indeed, I have often taught that men such as Taverner were the Bruckners of their age - and it might even be argued that their aisthesis, their kunst, their craft, was a superior and more intellectually honest one!) Chief amongst the differences is the development of musical genres (including sacred ones) which appeal not to aisthesis but, primarily, to the emotions of the listeners whom we do not wish to burden (or bore) with the higher forms of liturgical musical craftsmanship which was apparently quite enjoyed and comprehended by the audiences who first heard them. We have debased music. And, we have, inherently and concomitantly debased the listeners. They must now be entertained with music that has a 'tune' and a 'beat', and are not (by too, too, many musicians and clerics) suffered to be aedified by genuine and pure aisthesis and musical science of the caliber it takes to produce, say, Byrd's Salve Regina a 5, or RVW's G-minor mass. Perhaps this introduction could be summed up as questioning the fundamental difference between the enjoyment of 'music' and the comprehension of 'a work of music', music as craft, kunst, artifice. I believe that the difference between the listeners of today and those of the age of the polyphonists (not to mention their notions of what was and was not 'sacred' - certainly what was and was not worthy) is vast.

Where once what was offered to God was a great 'work of architecture', the rarest frankincense, the most finely made vestments, the most exquisitely crafted examples of musical science, all of which had conveyed aisthesis, now, all (most of the time) is foreign to the hands of any master craftsman, be he or she an architect, vestment maker, or musician.

Am I tilting at windmills? Or are people today deliberately being made 'non-aesthetic', (mentally senseless) and sold a 'bill of goods'?

(I look forward to your re-inforcements and illuminations, as well as your contradictions and challenges. Just try to be objective and avoid highly subjective statements when speaking favourably or not about this or that example.)