Unfortunately, the word "hysteria" labors under way too much baggage to be useful in this conversation. As to Prof K's point: A hazy unintelligible nimbus of sound - like a "churchy" Hollywood soundrack - can be more "hysterical" than "mystical"; the issue is how immediately intelligible ought a liturgical text ideally be to participants in the liturgy? I would say that texts that are repeated regularly have more freedom in this regard than texts used rarely. Even the Church itself has taken pains, on a periodic basis, to discourage music that renders texts too unintelligible, so we know that intelligibility is a valid consideration.

1907 Terry's conception and definition of "hysteria" amounted to was not so loaded with as much baggage in this era.

I don't know. I think back then the word was much more loaded than it typically is now.

( cf also http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=hysterical )

It's probably beside the point he was trying to make... probably.
But in 1907 he can hardly have been unaware of the usage.

(In fact- I would say that the average person using the word today is much more likely to mean it "innocently" as a description of frenzied, irrational emotion; as opposed to the late-19th century understanding of feminine weakness).

Anyway- I do basically agree that a shallow stirring up of the emotions is not a particularly worthwhile approach to liturgical music.

(Caveat, I hope this is not too rambling and off-topic)

On the other hand, there exists a corpus of vocal liturgical music that seems primarily to exist on its own in a purely musical way, with the texts almost seeming to be there solely for the purpose of having something to vocalize: Graduals, Alleluias, Tracts, the Responds of Matins. Though I often chant these is English, I sometimes find that futile since no matter how well one annunciates the text, its still often lost in the melismas, they would be just as intelligible if I sang them in Old Low German. These texts often come once, maybe twice, a year (more if they're in the Commons) so familiarity of the text is not a consideration. Whereas the settings of the Responsorial Psalm and "Gospel Acclamation" are usually very short, with the text set in an incredibly intelligible way yet these are often decried as being trite and devoid of any real musical content.

I think something that we should consider is the difference between the paradigm of sacred music (Chant), and the paradigm of secular music (pop/rock/jazz/etc.). One is mensural, the other not, one is overwhelmed by the notion of time, the other in a notion of timelessness.

The examples of 'hysteria' v 'mysticism' that MeloCharles cites above show this: the Vivaldi is martial, in 4/4 time, the beats are emphatically rammed down your throat: this is the church version of "The High School Cadets": It gets the heart pumping and the adrenalin flowing; 'hysteria'. RVW on the other hand, thoroughly influenced by Renaissance polyphony (Palestrina, esp.) and free-rhythm folk-song, floats along on a sea of tranquility, even during the more rhythmic sections (Laudamus te,...) , which serve merely as musical exclamation marks, the real meat is in the middle section which is fairly soft, with the 'beat', obvious in the Vivaldi, intentionally obscured, until the soaring 'cum Sancto Spiritu' and 'amen' at the end; this music makes you look up at (if you're lucky enough to be in a 'churchy' church, the Crucifix, or Pantocrator on the East wall or Reredos: it is a mystical experience.

I'll take as another example of the 'hysterical' aspect of music the Mass which the choir I now direct sang or its Golden Jubilee in 1964 : W.A. Leonard's Third Mass in B-flat (published in 1916, but composed before then). The whole Mass is much more in keeping with the schmaltzy, sentimental music of its day; the Dona Nobis is especially atrocious. It is a March (not unlike those of Johann Straus, Jr.), of exceedingly silly proportions, with a high soprano solo - this music comes not from the church but from the opera house: it is there to excite the emotions: to get the juices flowing - how is that 'granting us peace'? Contrast this with the Dona Nobis from Haydn's Missa Brevis in B-flat (S Joannis de Deo/Kleine Orgelmesse), where the overall effect is one of tranquility and serenity - there is a definite pulse there, but it's not beaten down your throat.

It seems that what were really referring to here in this discussion is the idea of the 'beat': Rock music with a very heavy (and often fast) beat creates hysteria, Gregorian chant with a pulse, but no true 'beat' creates mysticism. Is it the repetitive beat, the fundamentum of dance music of any kind (Minuet, Waltz, March, Polonez), that creates this feeling of hysteria vs. mysticism? How far does the intelligibility of a text add or subtract from this feeling? I don't know.

True, if people never knew what the words meant, they would be at a distinct disadvantage when it came to internalizing the instruction offered by the music. But at the same time, there is something inherently sacred and beautiful, elevating and nourishing, in the music itself, if it is sung with piety and skill.

Maybe tangentially related (I think more) . . . this reminded me of something I recently read in Ellen Rose's essay, On Reflection:

Sight has a natural bias toward detachment, creating the detached observer, whereas sound has an opposite bias: it surrounds, involves—one steps into it.

Kathy