The Psaltis (Cantor)

Who is the Cantor?

Why do we need the cantor?
What is the cantor’s role?

I will sing to the Lord all my life; I will sing to my God as long as I exist.

Ps. 103:33

OF COURSE, YOU KNOW THE CANTOR!

The Cantor (“Psaltis”) is the person who stands at the Cantor’s Stand on Sundays at the Divine Liturgy and every other sacred service of your parish and performs the Hymns of our Church alone or with an ensemble of assistants. You can see the Cantor, or might remember the Cantor standing and chanting into deep old age until abandoned by limited physical strength. But how many of us know how much work and preparation, how many sacrifices and even disappointments lie behind a Cantor’s mission to the Church and to the faithful? The following are aimed at answering these, among many other, questions.

THE CANTOR IS NORMALLY A TONSURED LOWER CLERIC

Representing the prayers of the faithful, in hymn and music, is the chief role of the Cantor and it is, in fact, a formal ecclesiastic ministry. Thus, this ministry is a sacred office. In the Divine Liturgy everything has a spiritual and divine character. From ancient times, our Church elevated the Cantor to the Lower Ranks of the Clergy to bless and allow sacred ministry outside of the Holy Sanctuary. In this way the Cantor was separated from the clergy (Bishop, Priest, Deacon) whose ministry in ecclesiastic service is inside the Holy Sanctuary, but also from the rest of the congregation – the faithful lay people. The Cantor is a vehicle of the people’s prayer during divine services and as such connects the faithful with Divine Worship, collaborating with the Priest and expressing the fullness of the Church.

The sanctity of a Cantor’s ministry and service imposes the wearing of a black robe (“Rasso”) during the services.

As a member of the Lower Ranks of the clergy, a Cantor cannot formally serve without a specific blessing by a Bishop, referred to as a “cheirothesia”. Indeed, just like a priest is assigned to a church, so too (traditionally) is a Cantor formally assigned, with the acclamation “Axios” (Worthy!) given by the faithful in attendance.

Thus, not everyone has the right or the privilege to chant responsibly in our tradition except the person appointed and ordained by a Bishop. The same applies to other lesser Ranks of the clergy (Reader and Altar Servant).

A REPRESENTATIVE OF A LONGSTANDING RELIGIOUS TRADITION

The music and hymnology of our faith and Church grew and matured to unparalleled musical and hymnologic heights (even according to Western musical scholars) between the 5th – 18th century, with Constantinople as its epicenter and the entirety of Asia Minor and the Holy Lands in adjunctive influence. This music, evolving mainly during the time of the Byzantine Empire, thus received its name and became inextricably associated with the Eastern Orthodox hymnologic tradition. With roots in ancient Greek music, it eventually evolved independently and acquired it’s own ethos and style befitting the spiritual and prayerful character of our faith. Thus, Byzantine Music became, and still is, a central and defining feature and element of  Eastern Orthodox worship. This precious asset has been entrusted to the Cantor, who – following the traces of the Masters and Creators of this sacred art, leverages the treasure that is passed from teachers to bequeath it to the following generations.

THE GRADATIONS

Byzantine Hymns are traditionally chanted in a solo or choral manner and also antiphonically, i.e. the alternate or responsive singing by a choir in two divisions. Thus, two Choirs were consecrated from the very early days of Eastern Orthodox ecclesiastic practice. The one on the right side of the Soleas, as we face the Holy Sanctuary, is led by the Protopsaltis (The Prime Cantor) and the other on the opposite side is led by the Lampadarios. Assistant musicians – the Domestichoi – to the right and left of the Protopsaltis and the Lampadarios – complete the foundation of the two Choirs. The Domestichoi are often the top students/apprentices of the Protopsaltis and Lampadarios, exhibiting substantial knowledge and vocal talent to give a “wholesome” ensemble character to each of the two Choirs. The Domestichoi can also provide a continuous “drone” of the tonic and dominants of the melody in what is referred to as the “isokratima” (ison). Completing the two Choirs are the Readers and the Canonarchs who intone the hymns to follow. A traditional Byzantine Choir is not polyphonic but monophonic, which means that although there is a Choir, everybody is chanting in “one voice” except those assigned to perform the “isokratima”, which varies from hymn to hymn and to ensure that the pitch won’t shift but also that harmonies of thirds, fourths, fifths, and eighths are created, giving an ancient Hellenic character to the music.

INDOMITABLE ENTHUSIASM

Cantors chant from their heart and soul. Cantors suffer spiritually when they do not chant because their life has been inextricably tied to this ministry, music, and art. Even though this art is not an end in itself, it is a means, which facilitates the faithful with their communion with God. Together with the Hymnology, the music that “vests” the text directs the hearts and minds of the faithful to higher grounds. Both express divine emotions and spiritual experiences. Our ecclesiastical music being rich in qualitative characters relies on the Psaltis’ enthusiasm for conceptual interpretation of hymns. With this workpersonlike heartful involvement, the Psaltis becomes an unrivaled mystagogue. As our music is prayerful it presupposes entities with faith, reverence, and solemnity.

MUSICAL TRAINING

In its early years, the music of our Church was simple. We even assume that the whole congregation chanted together. Little by little, as the length and complexity of the services increased, the melodies to cover them became complicated and more difficult. No longer could anyone render the hymns. That created the need for people with specialized knowledge and experience. Hence, the ministry and title of “Psaltis” (Cantor) was established. In fact, it was a vocation. To assume this vocation though, enthusiasm and vocal abilities were not enough. Canons of Ecumenical Synods demanded qualifications for this ministry. The Psaltis needed to be highly trained musically. A multitude of composers and hymnographers bequeathed us colorful melodies and complex musical scores, that require skillful expressors and artistic interpreters. Slowly, Masters of Music emerged, disseminating this great art to their students and apprentices. Through that, the essence of Byzantine Music was preserved and is taught until today, almost unchanged. One cannot only learn Theory and History of Byzantine Music from a Master Cantor but also Praxis (performance) and Typikon (liturgical order and rubrics) as well as Hymnology and Intoning and Reading, namely everything that is useful to become a worthy successor of that great heritage.

THE CANTOR’S MINISTRY AND VOCATION

Many of us believe that a Psaltis is occupied only on Sundays at the Divine Liturgy, weddings, baptisms, and maybe on some Feast days like the Nativity of our Lord, Theophany, or Holy Week. Although that depends on one Parish’s worship schedule and sacramental activity, this is mostly not the case. It is not only during the Sunday attendance. It can be Vesper Services, Orthros Services, the Paraklesis, i.e. Supplicatory Services, the Salutations, the Lenten Liturgies, any major Feast day of our Lord Jesus Christ or of the Virgin Mary, a Saint’s Day celebration, and more. Besides the above we must explain that it is certainly not only the attendance but also regardless of a short or a long service, it is the preparation.

Especially for a Psaltis who also leads a Byzantine Choir, rehearsal, preparation of the new repertoire etc. is not a brief affair but rather a very time- and strength-consuming case. Here we must point out that many Cantors do not engage in this ministry exclusively. In other words, they do not have a full time position but have other professions or day jobs. The above mainly applies for full time Cantors dedicated directly, and only, to teach, prepare, conduct, and perform whenever needed and thus, their ministry is also a vocation.

THE FUTURE

Although many young people show interest in Byzantine Music today, only a few of them actually study and learn it. Additionally, few have received the substantial corpus of the entirety of Byzantine Chant tradition, to multiply the talent to the level of mastery. Oftentimes, and unfortunately, mediocrity passes for, and is promoted as expertise and knowledge. This could lead to the loss of our religious identity, creating a gap, even a chasm between us and our ancient old musical and theological traditions. Echoing rites and rubrics of foreign traditions or creating our own practices, sometimes for questionable reasons will keep us closer to the ground rather than lifting us up, to God. Finally, not everyone should or can be a Psaltis. It must first begin with spiritual cleanliness and appreciation of the tenets of our faith and the Apostolic and Patristic traditions, and then, access to a teacher universally-accepted by peers and the Church as a representative of chant tradition in line with that of the Mother Church (the Ecumenical Patriarchate).

A MODEST PROPOSAL

Our duty as Orthodox Christians is to support any initiative of our Church, especially concerning its ministries and outreach. Byzantine Music is the backbone of our Eastern Orthodox Rites and therefore at the apex of the most important “experiential” factors of our Liturgical Life. How can we support its growth? Here are some ideas:

  1. Holding several workshops annually, that bring together two or more Master Cantors from our Archdiocese, to offer either nominal “fundamentals” learning of Byzantine Chant to our communities, especially the younger people or to offer more specialized training to community Cantors – and even our clergy!  
  2. Establishing a group or an association of “Friends of Byzantine Music” in every parish. Those clubs could help fund the creation and maintenance of a Byzantine Choir trained by a Master Cantor.
  3. Encouraging young people and their family, especially those with vocal skills and musical knowledge, to listen to and even learn Byzantine Music and to participate in everything associated with this at the parish level (e.g. go to the Analogion, listen, and watch the Psaltis during Vespers and Orthros).
  4. Nurture a return to tradition and the ecclesiastic archetype in terms of restoring hymns that are omitted for the sake of “time” and “speed”. The hierarchs and the priests will have an important responsibility to educate parish councils and the faithful about “why” our tradition is the way it is.

Our desire should be the continuation of our tradition, the multiplication of the talents given to our Master Cantors, and the staffing of our Cantors’ Stands (Analogion), so the majestic and glorious ecclesiastical melody, which many converts quote as the reason for coming into Orthodoxy and which many Western scholars are now fervently researching, can survive.

Our faith is a collective endeavor. Everybody can participate, with joy and with the objective of creating an earthly taste of Paradise inside their church…

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Concert held at St. Veronica’s in the West Village

Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir at St. Veronica 9/11 

H.E. ARCHBISHOP DEMETRIOS GERON OF AMERICA IN ATTENDANCE AT THE CONCERT AT ST. VERONICA CHURCH IN NYC PERFORMED BY THE ARCHDIOCESAN BYZANTINE CHOIR DIRECTED BY DEMETRIOS KEHAGIAS. © GANP/DIMITRIOS PANAGOS

By: Vicki James Yiannias

On September 11, the day of the remembrance of all those lost in the terrorist attacks and the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church, the only house of worship destroyed at ground zero 17 years ago in New York City, a performance of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir at St. Veronica Church in downtown Manhattan inaugurated the new, free, music series, Sounds of the Great Religions.  His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America and Bishop Sevastianos attended.

When cultures and religions uncomprehending of each other are thrown together in figuratively tight spaces the language of music can be a means of communication.  This significant initiative from George Capsis, forward-thinking publisher of the free publication, Westview News, is a promotion for future understanding.  The concerts are free and open to the public.

In his Welcome, Capsis said that the “dramatic, almost theatrical interior space of St. Veronica Church invites imaginative uses” and it inspired this series of concerts, “a survey of great musical moments from the world’s great religions telling the story of the Greek Orthodox Church from Constantine the Great to Today.”

The 37-member choir includes Demetrius Kehagias, the Director, Rev. Dn. Panteleimon Papadopoulos, Managing Director, Archdeacon Panteleimon, who gave a short historical narrative about the Orthodox Church and the importance of the Byzantine Empire, especially Constantine the Great, for the spread of Christianity throughout the Mediterranean, and Rev. Dn. Romanos Karanos, Professor of Byzantine Musicology.  

The performance also marked the beginning of the Eastern Orthodox Ecclesiastical Year.

It was a musical and iconographic overview of the major feasts within the Orthodox Liturgical Calendar with a primary focus on Christocentric Feasts.  Each feast was complimented with a short explanation of what is celebrated and why it is important, through an analysis of the hymns chanted and their theological importance. 

Beginning with the achingly evocative hymn to the City of Constantinople, “O Theotokos, I, your city”, for which His Eminence and His Grace stood, the audience following suit, the Byzantine Archdiocesan Choir has perfect unity of sound and outstanding solo chanters.

The other hymns: What shall we offer you, O Christ?… 2nd Mode; 9th Ode of the Canon for the Feast Entrance of the Lord into the Temple; As many of you as were baptized… 1st Mode; The Great Prokeimenon of the Great Forty-Day Fast… Plagal 4th Mode; Matins of Great Friday — They stripped me of my garments… Plagal 2nd Mode; CANON of Pascha (Selected verses)… 1st Mode; Heavenly King… Plagal 2nd Mode; The Great Doxology (select verses)… Grave Mode.

St. Veronica Catholic Church on Christoper Street was built, as was the original St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church downtown, by seamen—in the case of St. Veronica, Irish seamen, who began its construction in 1890.  In this period of intensified, more frequent contacts between the Orthodox and the Catholic Churches on the topic of unity, the stark contrast between the brightly-colored Western (after the Renaissance) paintings in the apse of St. Veronica and the large-scale projections of Byzantine icons next to them, the different scales of Byzantine chant and Western music, with their obvious differences provided interest.

This concert seemed to be as instructionally thoughtful as possible.   As an introduction to every hymn being chanted a corresponding Byzantine icon was projected large-scale next to the church’s paintings high up on the apse.  At the bottom of the icon, in English, was a description of the icon and a short analysis of the hymn, making it very easy to follow what the choir was singing and its significance within Orthodox theology and liturgical practice.

Byzantine hymnology, musical scale and notation, and Byzantine iconography—all of which His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios helpfully explained in his Closing Remarks—gave those unfamiliar with Orthodoxy, as well the Orthodox in the audience, a beginner’s survey that surely might encourage follow-up interest in the beauty of the Church.

The concert ended with a solemn focus on the tragic events of 9/11.A 6-minute video, a special tribute showing the reconstruction of Saint Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church and National Shrine was shown.  A hymn from the Orthodox funeral service was chanted in commemoration of the day with hymns to St. Nicholas. 

Remembering all of those lost on that tragic day 9-11-2001.  May their memories be eternal.

To view the Concert click here! 

Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir Members

Demetrios Kehagias, Director

Rev. Fr. Romanos Karanos, Professor of Byzantine Musicology at

Hellenic College and Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology

Rev. Dn. Panteleimon Papadopoulos, Managing Director

Rev. Fr. Antonios Papathansiou * Rev. Fr. Andreas Houpos * Rev. Dn. Eleftherios Constantine

Nektarios Antoniou * Alexandros Avgeris * Richard R Barrett * Theodore Brakatselos * Luis Camacho * Panos Coufos * Eustratios Gatanas * Gregory Gatanas * Nick Gregoriades * George Kazoulis * Anthony Ladas * Yianni Mavrogiannis * Demetrios Michael * Sotirios Michalatos * Anastasios Mirisis * Dimosthenis Papaioannou * Nicholas Paros * George Rallis * Neophytos Sarigiannis * Pavlos Sotirelis * Panayiotis Steele * Christos Strubakos * George Theodoridis * Yannis Tziligakis * Evaggelos Zaharatos

 

 

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New Initiative to Promote Women and Byzantine Music

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir,and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO:© D. PANAGOS

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir, and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy Trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO: © D. PANAGOS

New York, NY–In 2015, the Archdiocesan School of Byzantine music inaugurated the St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir. The St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir began in 2014 at the initiation of the nuns of All Saints Monastery with the blessing and support of His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios. The sisters of All Saints, being alumnae of HCHC, recognized the need for education, promotion, and contribution of qualified women chanters within the Greek Orthodox Church. Because of the many knowledgeable female chanters and limited opportunities for participation in traditional Byzantine choirs, the nuns of All Saints Monastery formed the St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir under the directorship of Dr. Demetrios Kehagias and the Archdiocesan School of Byzantine Music. With Dr. Kehagias’ guidance and encouragement, the women chanters of the St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir have been challenged to perform difficult compositions all the while maintaining a high level of precision. The debut concert in June 2016 at the Archdiocesan Cathedral was a successful endeavor. We are optimistic that with persistence and continued effort, the St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir will be an opportunity for skilled women chanters to offer their talent to Christ and to inspire a future generation of women to dedicate their talent to Christ and His Church.

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir,and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO:© DIMITRIOS PANAGOS-GANP/ΔΗΜΗΤΡΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΟΣ

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO: © D. PANAGOS

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir,and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO:© DIMITRIOS PANAGOS-GANP/ΔΗΜΗΤΡΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΟΣ

St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy Trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO: © D. PANAGOS

More than 15 women gave their time, talent, and financial contributions in order to debut the St. Kassiani Byzantine Choir. These women—gathered from Oregon to Massachusetts and Texas to Florida— made great personal sacrifices to contribute and participate.  They include: Gerontissa Foteini, All Saints Monastery, Calverton NY, Adelfi Theonymfi, All Saints Monastery, Calverton NY, Markella Balasis, OCMC, St. Augustine, FL, Elizabeth Constantine, Archdiocesan Cathedral, NY, NY, Rachel Fiolek, Holy Resurrection, Allston, MA, Sarah Jenks, University of Notre Dame, IN, Eirini Koulianos, HCHC, Brookline, MA, Mary Long, Transfiguration Greek Church, Austin, TX, Virginia Pourakis,St. Paul Cathedral, Hempstead, NY, Christina Stavros-Kidonakis, St. Mary Antiochian Church, Livonia, MI, Theofania Creemens, Portland, OR.

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir,and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO:© DIMITRIOS PANAGOS-GANP/ΔΗΜΗΤΡΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΟΣ

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir at The Holy Trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO: © D. PANAGOS

The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir,and St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO:© DIMITRIOS PANAGOS-GANP/ΔΗΜΗΤΡΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΟΣ

St. Kassiani Choir Concert at The Holy Trinity Cathedral in NY. PHOTO: © D. PANAGOS

To watch all the videos of the Concert, Click Here!

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Concert: Dormition of the Virgin Mary Church in Southampton

On June 13, at the Dormition of the Virgin Mary Greek Orthodox Church of the Hamptons, the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America will offer a concert entitled “All Creation Rejoices: Hymns in Honor of the Theotokos!” Formed in 2010 by His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios, the men’s choir has as its primary goal “sharing the beauty of Byzantine Chant beyond the boarders of the Orthodox Church and revealing the spiritual depth of this ancient form of ecclesiastical chant.” The members of the choir are accomplished, formally trained Byzantine chanters, many of whom serve as head chanters in parishes of the Direct Archdiocesan District.

The Concert is presented by His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America, who will be in attendance. It is offered free charge and is open to the public. The performance will begin at 6:00 PM and will be followed by a reception. On the following day, Sunday, June 14, the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir will chant the Archieratical Divine Liturgy in the Church of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, with His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios as celebrant. Attendees are asked to RSVP by email at info@kimisishamptons.org. The Church is located at 111 St. Andrews Road, Southampton, New York 11968.

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Historic Concert in Ancient Church of Hagia Irini

ARCHDIOCESAN BYZANTINE CHOIR RETURNS HOME FROM HISTORIC SECOND

PILGRIMAGE TO THE ECUMENICAL PATRIARCHATE AND

CONCERT IN THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF HAGIA IRINI

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NEW YORK, NY— With the blessing of His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America, thirty-seven members of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America traveled to Constantinople (November 27 – December 1) for the Thronal Feast of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle. This occasion was significant because it also marked the first visit of His Holiness Pope Francis of Rome to the Ecumenical Patriarchate.

 After experiencing delays—weather in the United States, computers issues in Turkey— the choir arrived safely in Constantinople the morning of Thanksgiving Day. Weary but eager to take in the sacred sites, the group started by visiting the historic Monastery of the Life-Giving Spring in Balukli to receive holy water and to visit the tombs of the Patriarchs who are buried there; among them is former Archbishop of America and later Ecumenical Patriarch, Athenagoras. From there, the group visited the famous Monastery Church of Chora and took in its architecture and well-known mosaic and fresco iconography. Next, the group visited the Church of Panagia Vlachernon, where the hymn Ti Ypermaho was first chanted. The choir chanted this hymn, and Dr. Grammenos Karanos, Assistant Professor of Byzantine Liturgical Music at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology, gave an explanation on the origins of both Ti Ypermaho and the Akathist hymn to which it was originally added. Undaunted, the group continued to the churches of St. Nicholas and St. Haralambos where it met with Fr. Nikolaos of Dionysiou Monastery of Mt. Athos, who is a renowned iconographer and conservator, and expert in Byzantine monuments throughout the Great City. He educated the group on the status of some of the Orthodox Christian communities remaining in Constantinople. Finally, the group reached the hotel, where later that evening all 61 members of the choir’s delegation shared a Thanksgiving Day meal in honor of His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America.

 IMG_1187On Friday morning, the choir visited the great edifice erected by the Emperor Justinian, Hagia Sophia (the Church of the Holy Wisdom of God). After a thorough and sobering tour of this great monument and relic of our Church’s living history, the group walked a short distance to the underground cisterns that date to the same era. After a light lunch and a walking tour of the remains of the Hippodrome, the choir made an out-of-the-way stop to a small rug shop in the neighborhood. It was here that the group not only learned about the art of rug-making, but was introduced, three levels below the street, to an ancient agiasma (Holy Spring) that had been discovered when the business owners were doing basement renovations. In this unassuming location survives a faint fresco icon of the Virgin Mary above still-running water. Opposite this spring is the entrance of an ancient church which has yet to be excavated. Fr. Nikolaos of Dionysiou dated the icon to the fourth century, making it perhaps one of the oldest surviving icons in the city. The final activity of this day was to visit the “small Hagia Sophia” church, which currently operates as a mosque, but dates to the sixth century, and was a prototype of the larger Hagia Sophia.

 On Saturday November 29th, members of the group visited several sites throughout the city, including the Church of Saint Paraskevi opposite the Patriarchate across the Golden Horn where the tomb of the Neo-martyr Saint Argyro is located as well as the famous Holy Trinity church in Taksim, and the Topkapi Palace. That evening, the group made its way to the Ecumenical Patriarchate for Festal Vespers for St. Andrew the First-called Apostle. Immediately following, the group witnessed the arrival of His Holiness Pope Francis of Rome side-by-side with His All-Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew I of Constantinople and New Rome. The two processed into the nave of the church side-by-side, after having lit candles in the narthex, to the choirs’ chanting of Axion Estin. A Doxology service was chanted, Pope Francis and Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew exchanged addresses, and then greeted each other with a kiss of peace, and more than this, Pope Francis asked for the Patriarch to bless him, kissed the Patriarch’s hand, and Patriarch Bartholomew kissed the top of Pope Francis’ head as he did so. Following this historic occasion, the group returned to the hotel for a dinner held in honor of Patriarch Bartholomew hosted by the Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate.

The morning of Sunday, November 30th saw the group back at the Patriarchal Church of St. George for Orthros—over which Metropolitan Methodios of Boston presided—and Divine Liturgy presided over by His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, and concelebrated by other hierarchs of the Holy and Sacred Synod. Pope Francis was in attendance and was seated opposite the Patriarchal throne, with several Latin clerics in attendance with him. Once the faithful had received Holy Communion and the closing prayers of the Divine Liturgy were completed, His All-Holiness once again addressed Pope Francis, in Greek, from the Patriarchal throne, and Pope Francis responded from his seat in Italian. At the completion of their mutual addresses, they descended from their places to meet in the middle of the nave and to embrace one another.

Saint IriniWith only a short time to rest, the choir made its way to the historic Hagia Irini church, which is located adjacent to Hagia Sophia. The church, one of the few not to be converted to a mosque by the Ottomans and later Turkish state, now functions as a concert hall. Though its current condition leaves much to be desired, its solid, ancient walls rejoiced as holy Orthodox hymns shook them once more—if only for an hour.

With more than 400 people in attendance, the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir, under the direction of Dr. Demetrios Kehagias, ascended the steps to the altar-turned-stage, chanting the beloved hymn, Ti Ypermaho. The program included musical selections that were first heard within the Great Imperial City of Constantinople beginning with pieces composed by Petros the Peloponnesian, Lampadarios of the Great Church of Christ and arguably greatest post-Byzantine ecclesiastical composer.

 Commenting on the historical significance of the concert, Archdeacon Panteleimon Papadopoulos, managing director of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir, said, “without exaggeration, this second concert in Hagia Irini constitutes a tremendous blessing from God especially as it seals the historic meeting between Pope Francis and Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, a meeting of peace and reconciliation. To be in the church of Hagia Irini, a church that was never converted into a mosque, and to chant hymns from our ecclesiastical tradition in praise of our Lord and in honor of His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew whom we not only love, but know very well the conditions and pressures of his patriarchal ministry, is profoundly humbling. I know that I speak for all the people who joined our choir on this trip when I say that we all felt a great amount of gratitude to God for bestowing upon us this great blessing to perform, or should I say pray in Hagia Irini. The choir members have expressed to me that, ‘this is city and its holy treasures are inexhaustible. No one can understand who they are, and what being an Orthodox Christian means unless they visit the Patriarchate and the Great Churches of Constantinople.’”

 After the concert, the choir, along with the Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, joined His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America for a farewell dinner in the Mega Revma neighborhood on the Bosphoros.

 On Monday, December 1, the group boarded its return flight to the United States and arrived home safely.

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The members of the choir that performed were: Dr. Demetrios Kehagias, Director, Rev. Fr. Aristidis Garinis, Rev. Fr. Demetrios Kazakis, Archd. Panteleimon Papadopoulos, Rev. Dn. Eleftherios Constantine, Professor Grammenos Karanos, Nektarios Antoniou, Yorgi Argarun, John Boyer, Luis Camacho, Gabriel Cremeens, George Giavris, Aaron Gilbert, Nicholas Gregoriades, Andreas Houpos, Antonios Kehagias, Athanasios Koukoulis, Nicholas Mavromoustakos, Michael Mercado, Athanasios Minetos, Anastasios Mirisis, Michael Odegaard, Dimosthenis Papaioannou, Fotis Papiris, Nicholas Paros, George Petrides, George Psevdos, Peter Romanovsky, Nicholas Roumas, Neofitos Sarigiannis, John Spanos, Christos Stavropoulos, Christos Stroubakos, Apostolos Theodoropoulos, Charleton Trumppower, James Tsimis, Chris Vitelas, Haralambos Zaharis.

Article by : Andreas Houpos, Member of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir

 To see photos click here:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/goabyzantinemusic/sets/72157649299011459/

For the Remarks of the His-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew Click Here.

Click here to view the Video of Concert.

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Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir returns from Constantinople

ARCHDIOCESAN BYZANTINE CHOIR RETURNS HOME FROM HISTORIC PILGRIMAGE TO THE ECUMENICAL PATRIARCHATE AND CONCERT IN THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF HAGIA IRINI

NEW YORK, NY— With the blessing of His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America, thirty-seven members of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America traveled to Constantinople (November 27 – December 2) for the Thronal Feast of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle.

The choir arrived in Constantinople very early on Thanksgiving Day. Upon arrival they visited the historic Monastery of the Life-Giving Spring in Balukli to receive holy water from the Life-Giving Spring and pay their respects to many of the past patriarchs of Constantinople who are entombed there. Buried at Balukli is also the former Archbishop of America (and later Ecumenical Patriarch), Athenagoras. From there, the group visited the famous Monastery Church of Chora with its exquisite and world-renowned mosaics. The last visit of the day was to the Church of Panagia Vlacheron where the hymn Ti Ypermaho was first chanted. The choir gathered around and also chanted this hymn in honor of the miracle of Panagia that occurred in the 6th century and saved Constantinople from being conquered. The evening ended with a Thanksgiving Day meal at the hotel.

On Friday morning, the choir departed for the greatest church of Christendom, the church of Hagia Sophia. After spending more than two hours in the church, the choir, together with Archbishop Demetrios of America, went to the Ecumenical Patriarchate for a private audience with His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew. The choir was received in the Great Patriarchal Throne Room and welcomed by His All-Holiness who distributed a special blessing to each member of choir and their families. The choir was offered a tour of the Patriarchal Church of St. George where they reverenced the relics of Three Great Ecumenical Fathers of the Church, Saints Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian and John Chrysostom. They also reverenced the relics of three great women Saints: Efthymia, Solomoni and Theophano. After this blessing the members of the choir remained in the Patriarchal church for Great Vespers for the feast of Saint Andrew the First-Called Apostle.

On November 30, the day began with the Patriarchal con-celebration for the feast of Saint Andrew. With over 400 people in attendance, the Divine Liturgy included the ordination of a bishop and the presence of the official delegation sent from the Vatican for the feast. After Liturgy, the choir proceeded to the great and sacred Church of Hagia Irini.

The church of Hagia Irini was the site of the 2nd Ecumenical Council in 381AD. It not only stands directly behind the Great Church of Hagia Sophia, but predates it. The Symbol of the Faith (Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed) was drafted within Hagia Irini in 381AD by St. Gregory the Theologian – who was Archbishop of Constantinople at that time – and was subsequently promulgated throughout the church and Empire, ultimately reaching the shores of America. Thus, the symbolism of this historic performance by young men who were, for the most part, born and raised in the United States was profoundly understood. It was a unique opportunity for the members of the choir to return to and re-discovery the spiritual and ecclesiastical roots of Byzantine Music.

More than 400 people were in attendance, including: His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios of America, hierarchs from the patriarchate and numerous diplomats and ambassadors from Constantinople. The Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir, under the direction of Dr. Demetrios Kehagias, entered the holy altar area of Hagia Irini filled with emotion and opened the evening chanting Ti Ypermaho. The program included musical selections that were first heard within the Great Imperial City of Constantinople beginning with pieces composed by Petros the Peloponnesian, Lampadarios of the Great Church of Christ and arguably greatest post-Byzantine ecclesiastical composer. The final hymn of the concert was an excerpt from St. Gregory the Theologian’s 23rd Oration (on the theme of God’s peace) set to music by professor Dr. Grammenos Karanos from Holy Cross School of Theology in honor of the Ecumenical Patriarch. Introducing the composition, Dr. Karanos stated, “Your All Holiness, perhaps there is no more fitting place to hear this praise of peace than this sacred place, the Church of Hagia Irini, the Peace of God. The idea to set this excerpt… to music belongs to the Managing Director of our choir, the Reverend Archdeacon Panteleimon Papadopoulos, who assigned the task to me. The choir will now perform the resulting composition. It is a humble work that doesn’t claim high artistry or originality, but it is derived from the musical tradition of the Great Church of Christ. This work is dedicated with reverence to your All Holiness by all the members of the choir, and will conclude tonight’s concert. We humbly ask that you receive it as an expression of our deep love and admiration for you and your patriarchal ministry.”

In his remarks following the last hymn, Archbishop Demetrios stated, “I express my deepest gratitude to His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch for the unique blessing to be present is this sacred space for tonight’s Byzantine Music concert. Tonight’s concert coincides with what is known as Thanksgiving Day weekend in the United States and what better way to give thanks to God for His abundant gifts than with this concert of sacred music in honor of our Ecumenical Patriarchate’s Thronal feast of the First-Called Apostle, Andrew.

At the conclusion of the concert, His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew addressed those in attendance saying, “It is truly a great privilege and pleasure to welcome and greet all of you in this historic and magnificent building of Haghia Irene, where we have gathered once again to attend a splendid concert – a truly beautiful exposition and expression of sacred music – by the young and talented members of the Archdiocesan Byzantine Choir from the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America in the presence of their primate and founder, our beloved brother and Exarch in the United States, His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios. There is something uniquely inspiring about a concert with authentic traditional religious music. For when it is genuinely and respectfully performed, not only does it unite heaven and earth, but it also connects all of humanity – above and beyond any racial, cultural, and religious distinctions and differences. It is this harmony and concord that we are grateful to experience this evening as we listen to musical pieces that transcend language and time. In this regard, we could say that music is by nature the vocabulary of love, the language of heaven. This is why the great teachers of the Christian Church claimed that music is the way the heart communicates with its Creator.

Therefore, we congratulate the organizers of this splendid event, under the chairmanship of His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios, our beloved brother and concelebrant in Christ, as well as the members of the choir, to whom we extend our wholehearted blessing.”

Commenting on the historical significance of the concert, Archdeacon Panteleimon Papadopoulos, director of the Archdiocesan School of Byzantine Music, said, “without exaggeration, this was the single most humbling and blessed moment of this choir’s short life. To be in the church of Hagia Irini, a church that was never converted into a mosque, and to chant hymns from our ecclesiastical tradition in praise of our Lord and in honor of His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew whom we not only love, but know very well the conditions and pressures of his patriarchal ministry, is profoundly humbling. I know that I speak for all 36 members who joined me on this trip when I say that we all felt a tremendous amount of gratitude to God for bestowing upon us this great blessing to perform, or should I say pray in Hagia Irini. The choir members have expressed to me, ‘no one can understand who they are, and what being an Orthodox Christian means unless they visit the Patriarchate and the Great Churches of Constantinople.’”

After the concert, His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew hosted a dinner in honor of the choir in Mega Revma (dedicated to the Archangels), the home parish which sits on the Bosphoros of His Grace Bishop Philotheos of Meloa, a distinguished retired bishop of our Holy Archdiocese.

On Sunday, December 1, members of the choir were invited to join the chanters of the two choirs in the patriarchal church of St. George. At the conclusion of the Divine Liturgy, Mr. Nicholas Steliaros of Holy Cross Greek Orthodox Church in Whitestone, NY was bestowed the Offikion of Archon Mousikodidaskalos of the Great Church of Christ (Archon, Great Teacher of Music) of the order of Panagia Pamakastitos by His All-Holiness. This was the first time any chanter had received this type of Offikion in the history of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America. Archon Nicholas Steliaros has served the Archdiocese for over 50 years teaching countless people Byzantine music. His Eminence Archbishop Demetrios stated, “It is a great honor not only for Archon Steliaros to receive this Offikion but also for our Archdiocese. He has now gained the recognition of the Patriarchate for his tireless years of offering this most sacred and important ministry to our Archdiocese.”

The members of the choir that performed were: Dr. Demetrios Kehagias, Director, Rev. Fr. Aristidis Garinis, Rev. Fr. Demetrios Kazakis, Archd. Panteleimon Papadopoulos, Professor Grammenos Karanos, George Antoniou, Nektarios Antoniou, Yorgi Argarun, John Boyer, Gabriel Cremeens, Rassem El Massih, George Giavris, Nicholas Gregoriades, Andreas Houpos, Antonios Kehagias, Athanasios Koukoulis, John Mavrogiannis, Michael Mercado, Athanasios Minetos, Anastasios Mirisis, Dimosthenis Papaioannou, Peter Papazafiropoulos, Fotis Papiris, Nicholas Paros, George Petrides, George Psevdos, Nicholas Rallis, Peter Romanovsky, Neofitos Sarigiannis, Christos Stavropoulos, John Szymkiewicz, James Tsimis, Andrew Tsunis, Nicolaos Tzetzis, Chris Vitelas, Evaggelos Zaharatos, Haralambos Zaharis.

To view the video of the concert click here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sOd5guED2s

To see photos click here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/goabyzantinemusic/sets/72157638295328456/

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Early Christian and Byzantine Music: History and Performance

by Dr Dimitri Conomos

I would like to divide this rather general presentation into two distinct, though interrelated, parts. The first is essentially historical: an overview, without too many details, of the information we have about early Christian and Byzantine music-making and its performance. The second is more reflective and subjective. It has to do with today’s legacy and the understanding of music in worship through the lens of Orthodox spirituality.

I. Historical sketch

Now for the first millennium of Christianity, we have no direct information about sacred melody. There are no musical manuscripts; there was no need of a notation since the tunes were the property of all the believers and were well known. On the basis of indirect evidence, I suggest that the origins of early Christian chant lie partly in the music of Jewish domestic ritual celebrations (there was no music in the liturgy of the early Synagogue and in the Temple music was only used to accompany the ritual of sacrifice) and partly in Syriac musical practices, both of which shared in the cultural milieu of the Hellenistic Orient.

One may well ask: Why were the liturgical texts sung at all? The answer to this question is not unique to the Christian Church. Nearly all religions have built their services around the communal repetition of sacred texts — not silent repetition, but sounded repetition, through which the holy words could be heard, mouthed and absorbed by all. And for such “sounded repetition”, singing has seemed more natural than speaking. Apart from the tediousness and sheer ugliness of communal speaking, the rhythm of song — even when it is a comparatively free rhythm — keeps everyone together and allows for audibility. And the melody of song helps people to remember the words.

It was, in fact, the monastic population that produced the first and finest hymnographers and musicians — Romanos the Melodist, John Damascene, Andrew of Crete, and Theodore the Studite. And it was the monastic population that also produced the inventors of a sophisticated musical notation which enabled scribes to preserve, in hand-written codices, the elegant musical practices of the medieval East. There was, of course, some early monastic opposition to music. But this does not mean that the monks did not chant. Their rejection was of worldly music, musical exhibitionism and the singing of non-scriptural refrains and chants.

Broadly speaking, however, there is a conspicuous indifference to Church music in the literature from Byzantium before about the year 1000. After all, there was very little to remark upon. In those days, no one went to Church with the idea of hearing a good choir or of listening to so-and-so’s latest musical setting of the psalms and canticles. Rather the faithful knew that they themselves would be involved in some sort of musical activity — and this was singing of a kind that, naturally enough, was relatively uncomplicated, simple to learn, easy to follow, straight-forward, and direct. There were no special effects and definitely no attempts were made to have the music evoke a particular kind of atmosphere or theatricality.

Now do we know how medieval Byzantine music may have sounded? A careful juggling of fact, inference, and conjecture can certainly point us in the right direction to answering this question. Already we have come to realise that Byzantine music adhered to the early Christian tradition of being a purely sung, or vocal, music, without instruments and having a style that consisted of melody alone, without accompaniment. This monophonic music is frequently called plainchant and it has no fixed rhythm. There were no notes to record it until after the 9th century. St Isidore of Seville in the 7th century lamented the fact that the sounds of music vanished and there was no way of writing them down. Only towards the end of the first millennium was it felt that the singers’ fragile memories were not adequately conserving the sacred melodies that something was done to fix the plainchants in writing. An elementary notation was devised, using little strokes, curves and dots called neumes to produce a rough graph of the ups and downs of the melody. The early neumes did not show specific notes, thus they could not teach an unknown melody to a singer who had never heard it before. But they could remind a singer who already knew a melody of how it went. By the 12th century the neumes evolved to a point where they represented specific notes and even directed the manner of singing.

The introduction of neume notation in the 9th century had both positive and negative effects for plainchant. On the positive side, it meant that an authoritative version of a plainchant melody could be transmitted, without alteration or deterioration, to other singers in distant places that were unfamiliar with the tradition. On the negative side, it meant that plainchant melodies had in effect become fixed once and for all. What do I mean by this?

During the first nine centuries of Christianity, the Byzantine musical tradition of plainchant managed to keep alive a certain improvisatory fervour that was also manifest in the spontaneity of prayers and rituals in the early Christian liturgy. Now, with some strokes of a 9th-century pen, the plainchant melodies were caught in a rigid stylisation. They became as if embalmed and their stylistic profiles conformed to 9th-century and eventually, later, tastes. The old chants that originated as “sung prayers” were henceforth crystallised “art-objects”. Yet once the neume notation was available to Byzantine Church musicians, it was impossible to ignore its capabilities. And soon the notation became a force for artistic experiment, since it gave composers a way to try out new musical ideas, letting them ponder their novelties and circulate them for others to examine and compare.

Thus, with a supply of graphic devices both to enshrine the ancient melodies and to record new compositions, the Byzantine musician embraces the art of composing. To begin with, this art meant something a little different from what it does today. It was not just a matter of thinking up fresh and novel sound combinations and putting personal inspiration on display. Certainly the sacred texts were given a musical dress that was designed to enhance their expression. But this was accomplished largely without injecting the human creative personality.

Most early Byzantine composers were content to practise their craft anonymously in the service of the Church. Their names are unknown, and in their musical techniques a similar impersonality prevails. The early chants tend to be built out of little twists and turns of melody that everyone had heard and used for generations. The word composing actually means putting things together, and that was essentially what the Byzantine composers did. They arranged, adjusted and stylised from a fund of age-old melodic bits and phrases that were active in the communal memory. Therefore, when a “new” melody was created, it was often not entirely fresh and original. More frequently it was a refinement of some existing strains. It is for this reason I said earlier that impersonality prevails not only in anonymity but also in musical techniques.

Actually, a fairly recent instance of this same ancient procedure may be observed in a new Greek service that was “put together” (“com-posed”) in the early 1980s on Mt Athos in honour of America’s first Orthodox saint, Herman of Alaska. St Herman was among the humble Russian monks who arrived in Alaska in 1794, and since his death in 1837 he has been venerated by the Aleuts, among whom he preached the Gospel and among whom he died. He was officially canonised in the USA in 1970, and since then his cult has spread worldwide. The Athonite monk who composed this remarkably beautiful new service did precisely what his medieval counterparts would have done — he selected, as models, pre-existing hymnody of other saints whose lives and labours resembled those of St Herman — namely, a monastic vocation, a missionary zeal equal to that of the apostles, an ascetic struggler, a paradigm of humility and virtue, a worker of miracles. The composer then skilfully re-arranged and modified the melodies so that they would fit the new text which he himself had written.

The Church Music of Ancient Rus

Did St Cyril and St Methodius transmit not only Greek liturgical texts to the Slavs, but also the melodies that went with them? We can never be absolutely certain — Slavonic music books from ninth century simply do not exist — but in general the circumstantial evidence would seem to support such a conclusion. The new Christian culture of the early Slavs was largely an imitation of the social, political and religious structures in Byzantium. Architecture, iconography, liturgy, ceremonial, and imperial institutions had their prototypes in the Greek East. Surely, one could argue, the same would apply to music.

Secondly, if we look at the Slavonic hymn texts, we see immediately that they are almost always word for word translations of the Greek. And where the Greek tradition arranges the hymns in a particular order and in a particular mode,1 the Slavonic tradition normally follows suit. Furthermore, philologists like Roman Jakobson have brought to light remarkable examples that demonstrate how, at times, the Slavonic translators were indeed successful in reproducing, approximating, or imitating the syllabicism — occasionally even the accentuation — of the Greek originals. To preserve the Greek meter in the Slavonic translations creates ideal conditions for adapting the early Greek melodies virtually unchanged. Otherwise, what possible motivation could there have been for this slavish imitation?

Finally, there are the music manuscripts themselves. If we can demonstrate that the Slavs used the same notation as the Greeks, there can be little doubt that they used the same melodies. Nineteenth-century Russian music scholars were aware of the existence of marked parallels between Greek and Slavonic musical usages. In the first decade of this century, Anton Preobrazhenskii found evidence which he believed proved the Byzantine origin of Old Russian notation, and his findings have been confirmed by subsequent scholarship.

However, in spite of all of this impressive evidence, I am not entirely convinced. For it is one thing to contend that, by virtue of their arrangement and graphic resemblance, the neumes used by the first Orthodox Slavs were adopted from the early Byzantine notational systems, and quite another to deduce that those same Slavs sang Byzantine hymn tunes. I think the possibility exists that the ancient Russian chants may have constituted an independent musical response to the liturgical translations from Byzantium. Let me explain why I say this. In the earliest Russian chant books, the Kondakaria of the 12th and 13th centuries, there is preserved a unique repertory of kontakia. In textual and liturgical respects they are very close to the Greek. The modes agree and the system of neumes is definitely borrowed from the Byzantine host tradition. But the music of these Slavonic kontakia is totally unrelated to the earliest known Greek examples. Are these melodies independent Slavonic creations or are they recensions of lost Byzantine exemplars?

Even in repertories where the evidence of actual musical borrowing is much more apparent — such as in the Koinonika (Communion chants) — the medieval Russian musicians often adapt the Byzantine melodies to the translated texts in idiosyncratic ways. In Russian hands, the Byzantine neumes behave in ways quite unfamiliar from Byzantium. And one neume, the stopitsa, is an entirely original invention.

For example, it is normal for Greek composers to give musical importance to the accented syllables in a text. But often the Russian arranger, working with the same melody on a text with equivalent accents to the Greek, chooses an apparently irregular alternative. He gives musical attention intentionally it would seem to unaccented syllables. Such curiosities in these chants have raised important questions for the philologist interested in the fundamental problems of accentuation in Old Church Slavonic. For the musicologist it gives evidence of a new approach, a refinement, or a mannerism unique to the Russian musical genius.

The Performance of Byzantine Chant

Let us now turn to actual performance practice. When speaking of medieval Byzantine chant, one must be reminded first, that not everything that was sung was written down in notes and secondly, not everything that was written in notes was sung as written. To begin with, musical notation was simply a device, a graphic tool, invented to preserve a melody that was relatively new, relatively complex, and relatively difficult to sing from memory. Familiar items were not recorded but left to communal memory and to oral tradition. Furthermore, sacred chants, whether from the Latin West or the Greek East, were never meant to be rigidly or mechanically duplicated at each performance. A chanter’s approach to the music could be compared with that of a jazz musician’s approach to a vocal or instrumental line. In both cases, improvisation was the hallmark of the style. In both cases the skill and experience of the performer affected the musical rendition. The inscribing of a chant melody in a manuscript was, in the first instance, one man’s application at one moment of a musical gloss on a traditional melody.

The Desert and the City

Byzantine liturgical music did not come about in a cultural vacuum. It has its origins in the desert and in the city: in the primitive psalmody of the early Egyptian and Palestinian desert communities that arose in the 4th to 6th centuries, and in urban centres with their cathedral liturgies full of music and ceremonial. It is this mixed musical tradition that we have inherited today — a mixture of the desert and the city. In both traditions — that of the desert and that of the city — the Old Testament Book of Psalms (the Psalter) first regulated the musical flow of the services. It was the manner in which this book was used that identified whether a service followed the monastic or the secular urban pattern.

In the desert monasteries psalms were sung by a soloist who intoned the verses slowly and in a loud voice. The monks were seated on the ground or on small stools because they were weakened by fasts and other austerities. They listened and meditated in their hearts on the words which they heard. The monks gave little thought to precisely which psalms were being used — they were little concerned, for example, with choosing texts that made specific reference to the time of the day; that is, psalms appropriate to the morning or ones appropriate to the evening. Since the primary purpose of the monastic services was meditation, the psalms were sung in a meditative way and in numerical order. The desert monastic office as a whole was marked by its lack of ceremony.

But in the secular cathedrals the psalms were not rendered in numerical order; rather, they consisted of appropriate psalms that were selected for their specific reference to the hour of the day or for their subject matter which suited the spirit of the occasion for the service. The urban services also included meaningful ceremonies such as the lighting of the lamps and the offering of incense. Moreover, a great deal of emphasis was placed on active congregational participation. The psalms were not sung by a soloist totally alone but in a responsorial or antiphonal manner in which congregational groups sang a refrain after the psalm verses. The idea was to have everyone involved in an effort of common celebration: there was no place here for individual contemplation.

II. Liturgical Music and Orthodox Spirituality

Is there a message for today in all of this? How applicable is the musical aesthetic of the medieval East to the current liturgical and ecclesiastical circumstances of the twenty-first century?

Whichever style we choose to adopt — monophonic or polyphonic — there are, I believe, three fundamental concepts in Orthodox spirituality that can be made to apply to our Church music:

  1. asceticism
  2. holiness
  3. apatheia, or ‘passionlessness’

1. Asceticism is the call for self-denial, self-dissatisfaction; and the constant yearning for improvement through hard work and energetic application. Throughout the year, but particularly during Great Lent, the Church impresses upon us the great blessings that are ours through increased prayer, prostrations, fasting, and charitable works. The Church singer has a sacred profession, and this sanctity requires a determination of character, a strong faith, great modesty, and a high sense of integrity. To be a Church singer in an Orthodox Church is to respond to a calling, to a vocation — it demands purity, sureness of faith and conviction. How hypocritical it is for singers, who transmit in melody the dogmas of the Church, to feel that they deserve congratulations and gratitude for performing before a captive audience: as if they were doing the congregation a favour. How much worse if those singers felt that they ought to be paid for the job of praising God with their God-given vocal chords — as if the Church were commissioning entertainers.

Here is where the ascetic task of self-denial is clearly applicable — we must convert the familiar image of the liturgical performer-musician to an image of someone who promotes the Christian attribute of self-denial — of putting oneself in the background, of thanking God for the privilege of allowing one to sing in the services. Singers should follow instructions from the director and from the priest in all humility, putting aside any notions of self-gratification, and the imposition of one’s likes and dislikes.

Liturgical art is, at the same time, both discipline and freedom; and to accept this duality is to be an Orthodox churchman in the truest sense of the word. To be an ascetic is to be in the world but not of it — to tame the world in oneself — to be a participant in the Truth.

The best music teachers are those that teach by example — the example of one’s life, the example of one’s attitude in Church. This also involves a participation in the sacramental life of the Church. The teacher must not be shy to point out mistakes, even to reveal another’s insufficiencies. The student must be willing to listen with humility and with a sense of eagerness to learn and to improve.

The ways of the world ought to be alien to the Church artist. We must never sell ourselves; we must not make Church music a career; we must have no ambition. We must not advertise or exhibit ourselves. Such is the asceticism of the Church; and this is what it means to be true to the holiness of our vocation.

2. And what is meant by the holiness of our vocation? “Holiness” is my second basic concept. I firmly believe that today this means freeing Church music from the heavy burden of centuries of decadence and secularism. Holiness means otherness, sacredness, apartness — not the common or the ordinary but the unique, the particular, the uncontaminated.

Musical art has become separated from the teaching of the Church — separated from the liturgy itself – because the understanding of what it means for the world to become transfigured has been lost. The musical transparency revealing the inner light of the Kingdom has been replaced by heavy, human and shimmering sound — musical gloss full of cheap sentimentality.

We must also be warned against a frequent tendency in contemporary Church music for it to be mechanical and imitation for the sake of imitation. Blind copying is incapable of giving life to the hymn or of calling the faithful to prayer.

3. The third concept, that of apatheia or passionlessness, can be applied to two aspects of music: (a) the composition itself; (b) the performance.

Needless to say, musical settings ought not to be seen as ends in themselves. They ought not to call attention to themselves or have special effects. The aim of melody is to add a special dimension to the text — to make it more audible and available for reflection. In this way, music becomes one with the text — a selfless ally of it. In this way, too, music shares in the passionlessness that in Orthodox spirituality is seen as an avenue to purity of mind and body.

This ideal of passionlessness is perhaps most reflected in the best Orthodox iconography — where the saint is painted in colours and shapes that transcend everything that is fleshy, sensuous, and cosmetic.

The most appropriate Christian music is monophonic plainchant. It does not have to be Byzantine chant, or Old Believer, or Old Slavonic or Coptic chant; and ideally it should not be polyphonic. Why do I say this?

Personally, I do not believe that there is anything intrinsically “unorthodox” about polyphonic music. And, of course, there are many kinds of polyphony, just as there are many types of monophony. Singing an ison against a melody is already a polyphonic musical gesture.

My preference for monophony — that is, single-line or horizontal melody — is more practical than it is aesthetic. It’s usually easy to sing, easy to learn, and easy to remember. The chanters can readily match their note to the celebrant’s without worrying whether it’s too high for the sopranos or too low for the basses. This style of music is ideal for congregational singing and one never has to worry about going flat. And the liturgy ceases to be interrupted by the annoying arpeggio humming of the conductor before the beginning of every troparion.

Polyphonic music, on the other hand, is by its very nature more complex, denser, and more difficult. In order for it to be done well — both musically and liturgically — one has to concentrate. The music demands a lot of attention — attention that could better be given elsewhere during a divine service. This is not horizontal but vertical music — it depends on the interplay of consonance and dissonance — that is, musical tension and release — to arouse our senses and to draw our attention to the excellence (or its lack) of the composition.

Nothing in our Church should belong to the realm of fashion — neither the vestments of the clergy, nor the icons, nor the music. Fashion implies style, and style is governed by the principle of built-in obsolescence. What is nice today will not always be nice tomorrow. The Church should never foster mediocrity.

The Church, because She is the Holy Reality of God, must be above current or past trends. In 1913, Alexander Kastalsky wrote: “I should like to have music that could be heard nowhere except in a Church, and which would be as distinct from secular music as Church vestments are from the dress of the laity.”

This does not mean that Church art is fossilised. Music, together with iconography, do and must change since they serve a vital function in a living culture. Sacred music and painting of the 6th century differed markedly from that of the 8th century — and those of the 10th, 12th and 14th century were each different one from the other. Our Divine Liturgy is not that which was arranged by St Basil or St John Chrysostom.

Change and adaptation in Church art are the inevitable and perfectly reasonable by-products of an organic and growing faith. But they must always operate within parameters that do not obscure or invalidate the intention of that art. That is why our icons cannot reasonably be painted in modern abstract designs; nor can the colours, posture or features be the objects of individual fancy. Similarly, sacred music has certain formal principles. It, too, cannot be written in modern, jazz, or folk styles. Neither can it deliberately be the product of personal inspiration.

Monophonic music serves the liturgy perfectly well. Unlike polyphony — the music of fashion in the Baroque, Classical and Romantic periods — simple chant melodies can be tailored to follow the text, to amplify its meaning and rhetoric, to give it an appropriate musical dress.

But even monophonic music can be made inappropriate if the singers engage in vocal display with dominating voices, unnecessary exaggerations, poor phrasing and unclear diction. As transmitters of the sacred texts, the vocalists must edify the chant by singing well, singing together, and by praying the hymn.

Some working criteria

1. Liturgical chant must maintain a symbiotic relationship between the music and the text. The text is to be enhanced by the musical element but the music should not have an independent existence from the words. All of the elements of melody: contour, phrasing, rhythm, form, are to reflect the poetic patterns inherent in the text.

2. Where polyphony is the local tradition, the musical texture should be homophonic and homorhythmic, not contrapuntal. That is, everyone should be singing the same words and syllables at the same time in order to preserve intelligibility and avoid confusion. This also preserves the structural symbiosis between word and tone.

Where monophony is the local tradition, the musical texture should avoid extended melismas, extreme ranges, and the intrusion of meaningless syllables that distort the sense of the hymn.

3. With regard to expression, true liturgical singing should be self-effacing and objective. The sacred words must speak for themselves without the intervention of subjective, personal interpretation. Dramatic renditions and theatricality are out of place in the liturgy.

4. Within the limitations articulated above, sacred music nevertheless can use artistic means to differentiate between festal and ferial liturgical occasions, to colour words and to draw contrasts and parallels between cognitive meanings in the texts. In this way music can carry or highlight the theological meaning of the hymns.

 

1. ‘Mode’ is the term given to each of the eight musical patterns that provided the framework for medieval Church music. They are also commonly known today as ‘tones’.

NOTE: This is a slightly modified version of a lecture originally given at the St Sergius Orthodox Institute, Paris, in 1997. Published on Monachos.net, February 2003.

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Orthodox Byzantine Music

by Dimitri Conomos, Ph.D.

Strictly speaking, Byzantine music is the medieval sacred chant of Christian Churches following the Orthodox rite. This tradition, encompassing the Greek-speaking world, developed in Byzantium from the establishment of its capital, Constantinople, in 330 until its fall in 1453. It is undeniably of composite origin, drawing on the artistic and technical productions of the classical age, on Jewish music, and inspired by the monophonic vocal music that evolved in the early Christian cities of Alexandria, Antioch and Epheus.

Early Christian Period

Byzantine chant manuscripts date from the ninth century, while lectionaries of biblical readings in Ekphonetic Notation (a primitive graphic system designed to indicate the manner of reciting lessons from Scripture) begin about a century earlier and continue in use until the twelfth or thirteenth century. Our knowledge of the older period is derived from Church service books Typika, patristic writings and medieval histories. Scattered examples of hymn texts from the early centuries of Greek Christianity still exist. Some of these employ the metrical schemes of classical Greek poetry; but the change of pronunciation had rendered those meters largely meaningless, and, except when classical forms were imitated, Byzantine hymns of the following centuries are prose-poetry, unrhymed verses of irregular length and accentual patterns. The common term for a short hymn of one stanza, or one of a series of stanzas, is troparion (this may carry the further connotation of a hymn interpolated between psalm verses). A famous example, whose existence is attested as early as the fourth century, is the Vesper hymn, Phos Hilaron, “Gladsome Light”; another, O Monogenes Yios, “Only Begotten Son,” ascribed to Justinian I (527-565), figures in the introductory portion of the Divine Liturgy. Perhaps the earliest set of troparia of known authorship are those of the monk Auxentios (first half of the fifty century), attested in his biography but not preserved in any later Byzantine order of service.

Medieval Period

Two concepts must be understood if we are to appreciate fully the function of music in Byzantine worship. The first, which retained currency in Greek theological and mystical speculation until the dissolution of the empire, was the belief in the angelic transmission of sacred chant: the assumption that the early Church united men in the prayer of the angelic choirs. This notion is certainly older than the Apocalypse account (Revelations 4:8-11), for the musical function of angels as conceived in the Old Testament is brought out dearly by Isaiah (6:1-4) and Ezekiel (3:12). Most significant in the fact, outlined in Exodus 25, that the pattern for the earthly worship of Israel was derived from heaven. The allusion is perpetuated in the writings of the early Fathers, such as Clement of Rome, Justin, Ignatius of Antioch Athenagoras of Athens and Pseudo-Dionysios the Areopagite. It receives acknowledgement later in the liturgical treatises of Nicolas Kavasilas and Symeon of Thessaloniki (Patrologia Graeca, CL, 368-492 and CLV, 536-699, respectively).

The effect that this concept had on church music was threefold: first, it bred a highly conservative attitude to musical composition; secondly, it stabilized the melodic tradition of certain hymns; and thirdly, it continued, for a time, the anonymity of the composer. For if a chant is of heavenly origin, then the acknowledgement received by man in transmitting it to posterity ought to be minimal. This is especially true when he deals with hymns which were known to have been first sung by angelic choirs – such as the Amen, Alleluia, Trisagion, Sanctus and Doxology. Consequently, until Palaeologan times, was inconceivable for a composer to place his name beside a notated text in the manuscripts.

Ideas of originality and free invention similar to those seen in later music probably never existed in early Byzantine times. The very notion of using traditional formulas (or melody-types) as a compositional technique shows an archaic concept in liturgical chant, and is quite the opposite of free, original creation. It seems evident that the chants of the Byzantine repertory found in musical manuscripts from the tenth century to the time of the Fourth Crusade (1204-1261), represent the final and only surviving stage of an evolution, the beginnings of which go back at least to the sixth century and possibly even to the chant of the Synagogue. What exact changes took place in the music during the formative stage is difficult to say; but certain chants in use even today exhibit characteristics whichmay throw light on the subject. These include recitation formulas, melody-types, and standard phrases that are clearly evident in the folk music and other traditional music of various cultures of the East, including the music of the Jews.

The second, less permanent, concept was that of koinonia or “communion.” This was less permanent because, after the fourth century, when it was analyzed and integrated into a theological system, the bond and “oneness” that united the clergy and the faithful in liturgical worship was less potent. It is, however, one of the key ideas for understanding a number of realities for which we now have different names. With regard to musical performance, thisconcept of koinonia may be applied to the primitive use of the word choros. It referred, not to a separate group within the congregation entrusted with musical responsibilities, but to the congregation as a whole. St. Ignatius wrote to the Church in Ephesus in the following way:

“You must every man of you join in a choir so that bring harmonious and in concord and taking the keynote of God in unison, you may sing with one voice through Jesus Christ to the Father, so that He may hear you and through your good deeds recognize that you are parts of His Son.”

A marked feature of liturgical ceremony was the active part taken by the people in its performance, particularly in the recitation or chanting of hymns, responses and psalms. The terms choros, koinonia and ekklesia were used synonymously in the early Byzantine Church. In Psalms 149 and 150, the Septuagint translated the Hebrew word machol (dance) by the Greek word choros. As a result, the early Church borrowed this word from classical antiquity as a designation for the congregation, at worship and in song in heaven and on earth both. Before long, however, a clericalizing tendency soon began to manifest itself in linguistic usage, particularly after the Council of Laodicea, whose fifteenth Canon permitted only the canonical psaltai, “chanters,” to sing at the services. The word choros came to refer to the special priestly function in the liturgy – just as, architecturally speaking, the choir became a reserved area near the sanctuary – and choros eventually became the equivalent of the word kleros.

The development of large scale hymnographic forms begins in the fifth century with the rise of the kontakion, a long and elaborate metrical sermon, reputedly of Syriac origin, which finds its acme in the work of St. Romanos the Melodos (sixth century). This dramatic homily, which usually paraphrases a Biblical narrative, comprises some 20 to 30 stanzas and was sung during the Morning Office (Orthros) in a simple and direct syllabic style (one note per syllable). The earliest musical versions, however, are “melismatic” (that is, many notes per syllable of text), and belong to the time of the ninth century and later when kontakia were reduced to the ptooimion (introductory verse) and first oikos (stanza). In the second half of the seventh century, the kontakion was supplanted by a new type of hymn, the kanon, initiated by St. Andrew of Crete (ca. 660-ca. 740) and developed by Saints John of Damascus and Kosmas of Jerusalem (both eighth century). Essentially, the kanon is an hymnodic complex comprised of nine odes which were originally attached to the nine Biblical canticles and to which they were related by means of corresponding poetic allusion or textual quotation.

The nine canticles are:

  • (1)-(2) The two songs of Moses (Exodus 15:1-19 and Deuteronomy 32:1-43);
  • (3)-(7) The prayers of Hannah, Habbakuk, Isaiah, Jonah and the Three Children (1 Kings [1 Samuel] 2:1-10; Habbakuk 3:1-19; Isaiah 26:9-20; Jonah 2:3-10; Apoc. Daniel 3:26-56);
  • (8) The song of the Three Children (Apoc. Daniel 3:57-88);
  • (9) The Magnificat and the Benedictus (Luke 1:46-55 and 68-79).

Each ode consists of an initial troparion, the heirmos, followed by three, four or more troparia which are the exact metrical reproductions of the heirmos, thereby allowing the same music to fit all troparia equally well.

The nine heirmoi, however, are metrically dissimilar; consequently, an entire kanon comprises nine independent melodies (eight, when the second ode is omitted, which are united musically by the same mode and textually by references to the general theme of the liturgical occasion, and sometimes by an acrostic. Heirmoi in syllabic style are gathered in the Heirmologion, a bulky volume which first appeared in the middle of the tenth century and contains over a thousand model troparia arranged into an oktoechos (the eight-mode musical system).

Another kind of hymn, important both for its number and for the variety of its liturgical use, is the sticheron. Festal stichera, accompanying both the fixed psalms at the beginning and end of Vespers and the psalmody of the Lauds (the Ainoi) in the Morning Office, exist for all special days of the year, the Sundays and weekdays of Lent, and for the recurrent cycle of eight weeks in the order of the modes beginning with Easter. Their melodies preserved in the Sticherarion, are considerably more elaborate and varied than in the tradition of the Heirmologion.

Later Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Periods

With the end of creative poetical composition, Byzantine chant entered its final period, devoted largely to the production of more elaborate musical settings of the traditional texts: either embellishments of the earlier simpler melodies, or original music in highly ornamental style. This was the work of the so-called Maistores, “masters,” of whom the most celebrated was St. John Koukouzeles (active c.1300), compared in Byzantine writings to St. John of Damascus himself, as an innovator in the development of chant. The multiplication of new settings and elaborations of the old continued in the centuries following the fall of Constantinople, until by the end of the eighteenth century the original musical repertory of the medieval musical manuscripts had been quite replaced by later compositions, and even the basic model system had undergone profound modification.

Chrysanthos of Madytos (ca. 1770-46), Gregory the Protopsaltes, and Chourmouzios the Archivist were responsible for a much needed reform of the notation of Greek ecclesiastical music. Essentially, this work consisted of a simplification of the Byzantine musical symbols which, by the early 19th century, had become so complex and technical that only highly skilled chanters were able to interpret them correctly. Despite its numerous shortcomings the work of the three reformers is a landmark in the history of Greek Church music, since it introduced the system of neo-Byzantine music upon which are based the present-day chants of the Greek Orthodox Church.

 

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A Brief Survey of the History of Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Chant

Preface: A Brief Survey of the History of Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Chant

by Dimitri E. Conomos Oxford University

Byzantine music is the medieval sacred chant of all Christian churches following the East- ern Orthodox rite. This tradition, principally encompassing the Greek-speaking world, devel- oped in Byzantium from the establishment of its capital, Constantinople, in 330 until its con- quest in 1453. It is undeniably of composite origin, drawing on the artistic and technical pro- ductions of the classical age and on Jewish music, and inspired by the plainsong that evolved in the early Christian cities of Alexandria, Antioch, and Ephesus. In common with other dialects in the East and West, Byzantine music is purely vocal and exclusively monodic. Apart from the acclamations (polychronia), the texts are solely designed for the several Eastern liturgies and offices. The most ancient evidence suggests that hymns and Psalms were originally syllabic or near-syllabic in style, stemming, as they did, from pre-okto␣ch congregational recitatives. Later, with the development of monasticism, at first in Palestine and then in Constantinople, and with the augmentation of rites and ceremonies in new and magnificent edifices (such as Hagia Sophia), trained choirs, each with its own leader (the protopsáltes for the right choir; the lampadários for the left) and soloist (the domestikos or kanonarch), assumed full musical re- sponsibilities. Consequently after ca. 850 there began a tendency to elaborate and to ornament, and this produced a radically new melismatic and ultimately kalophonic style.

2. The Pre-Byzantium Era

In the centuries before Constantine, there are no musical manuscripts——all the musical evi- dence is late; we have no music which is datable with the appearance of the liturgical hymn texts. But if our later musical sources have preserved for us even the essential features of the melodies with which these liturgical texts were first associated, they will enable us to form an idea, however partial, of what the earliest stratum of Christian music must have been like. The insoluble problem of Early Christian music is: how can one make deductions from the evidence in our earliest surviving musical manuscripts? To what degree does the music they contain re- flect that of an earlier period? ““Throughout the early Christian world,”” writes Oliver Strunk, ““in impenetrable barrier of oral tradition lies between all but the latest melodies and the earliestHistory of Byzantine Chant

attempts to reduce them to writing.””1 While it may be possible to date an early musical manu- script, it is virtually impossible to say how old the melodies in it are. The entire question may be seen not so much in terms of a faithful melodic preservation but rather as the degree to which traces of an ancient model may be gleaned from our earliest notated sources.

A marked feature of liturgical ceremony was the active part taken by the people in its per- formance, particularly in the saying aloud or chanting of hymns, responses, and psalms. The terms chorós, koinonía, and ecclesía were used synonymously in the early Church. In Psalms 149 and 150, the Septuagint translated the Hebrew word machol (dance or festival group) with the word chorós. As a result, the early Church borrowed this word from classical antiquity as a designation for the worshipping, singing congregation both in heaven and on earth. Before long, however, a clericalizing tendency soon began to manifest itself in linguistic usage, par- ticularly after the Synod of Laodicea, whose fifteenth Canon permitted only the canonical psál- tai to sing at the services. The word chorós came to refer to the special priestly function in the liturgy——just as, architecturally speaking, the choir became a reserved area near the sanctuary—— and the chorós eventually became the equivalent of the word kléros.

For the earliest period, however, authorities are fairly well agreed that the background of the worship service is to be found in Jewish ceremonies of that day, and a large degree of con- tinuity between the worship of the Jewish and Christian communities cannot be doubted. What holds for primitive Christian worship in general is no less true for the earliest Christian music in particular. A strong case can be made to support the belief that the background for the earli- est Christian music is to be sought in the music of the Hellenistic Orient, and more specifically in the musical theory and practice of Hellenized Judaism of that day. The Old Testament had a conspicuous place in the thought and worship of the New Testament Church. Old Testament quotations and allusions, especially from the Book of Psalms, abound in the literature of the New Testament, and a comparison of the oldest Jewish liturgical poems with those of Eastern Christians points to a relationship between Syriac and Hebrew poetry, thus establishing the possibility of Jewish influence upon Christian liturgical poetry. We know that cantors of Jewish origin were often appointed, even attracted to teach Christian communities the cantillation of scriptural lessons and psalmody. In this, the ancient manner of oral tradition did not fail to show its inescapable vigour.

There were, however, other issues at stake. Throughout antiquity, Christian literature wres- tles with many questions: Was music in the liturgy to be tolerated at all? If so, what kind of music? Was singing to be executed by the parish? Then there was the matter of the singing of women which appeared to be a point of utter vigilance. The Bible rapidly became the Book of books for Christianity. Jewish domestic psalmody was bound to become the model fundamen- tal to Christian ecclesiastical chanting in which ethnic forces shaped local modifications over a rather wide range.

One major difficulty is involved in identifying that which was musically performed——in ascertaining just what was performed in a more or less ““musical”” manner. A reason for this dif- ficulty lies in the fact that worship is often described in only a summary fashion, and rather

1 Strunk, Oliver, Essays on Music in the Byzantine World (New York, 1977), p. 61.

History of Byzantine Chant

general terms are used. There is, moreover, as is only to be expected, a lack of any precise mu- sical terminology in New Testament writings.

There are some popular misconceptions about early Christian praise which, perhaps, ought to be clarified. Many believe that music played a dominant role in Christian gatherings of Ap- ostolic and post-Apostolic times. But, in fact, the New Testament itself offers very little evi- dence of this, and in the earliest Church ordos of the second and third centuries, the part played by hymn singing conspicuously lacks mention. Saint Paul certainly exhorts the Ephesians to admonish one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs2——but this does not refer to the context of communal worship. In the second century, Saint Justin Martyr talks about a united ““Amen”” at the ends of prayers, but not about music. Some modern writers assume that the ear- liest Christian churches were based on Jewish synagogue nuclei and consequently adopted Jew- ish practices. But a reading a rabbinical sources of that time discloses a very minimal use of music in the services. We soon learn that the synagogues rejected the cultic sacrificial rites of the Temple and concentrated almost exclusively on Scripture and homilies. Even the Book of Psalms, which one would expect to be the natural song book of both Jews and Christians, played a less significant role than is generally imagined.

3. The Origins of Byzantine Music

Byzantine liturgical music did not come about in a cultural vacuum. It has its origins in the desert and in the city: in the primitive psalmody of the early Egyptian and Palestinian desert communities that arose in the 4th to 6th centuries, and in urban centres with their cathedral lit- urgies full of music and ceremonial. It is this mixed musical tradition that we have inherited today——a mixture of the desert and the city. In both traditions——that of the desert and that of the city——the Old Testament Book of Psalms (the Psalter) first regulated the musical flow of the services. It was the manner in which this book was used that identified whether a service fol- lowed the monastic or the secular urban pattern.

In the desert monasteries psalms were sung by a soloist who intoned the verses slowly and in a loud voice. The monks were seated on the ground or on small stools because they were weakened by fasts and other austerities. They listened and meditated in their hearts on the words which they heard. The monks gave little thought to precisely which psalms were being used——they were little concerned, for example, with choosing texts that made specific reference to the time of the day; that is, psalms appropriate to the morning or ones appropriate to the eve- ning. Since the primary purpose of the monastic services was meditation, the psalms were sung in a meditative way and in numerical order. The desert monastic office as a whole was marked by its lack of ceremony.

But in the secular cathedrals the psalms were not rendered in numerical order; rather, they consisted of appropriate psalms that were selected for their specific reference to the hour of the day or for their subject matter which suited the spirit of the occasion for the service. The urban services also included meaningful ceremonies such as the lighting of the lamps and the offering of incense. Moreover, a great deal of emphasis was placed on active congregational participa- tion. The psalms were not sung by a soloist totally alone but in a responsorial or antiphonal

2 Eph. 5:19; cf. Col. 3:16

History of Byzantine Chant

manner in which congregational groups sang a refrain after the psalm verses. The idea was to have everyone involved in an effort of common celebration: there was no place here for indi- vidual contemplation.

Thus, it is not until the fourth century, when Christianity and paganism collide as a result of Constantine’’s mass conversions, and when imperial ceremony entered liturgical solemnity in new and vast cathedrals, that music rears its formidable voice. And even then it did so under very special circumstances, and not without considerable monastic opposition. The monks of the desert likened tunes to demonic theatre, to false praise and to idle pleasure, satisfying the weak-minded and those of little faith and determination. But this does not mean that the monks did not chant. Their rejection was of worldly music, musical exhibitionism and the singing of non-scriptural refrains and chants. It was, in fact, the monastic population that later produced the first and finest hymnographers and musicians——Romanos the Melodist, John Damascene, Andrew of Crete, and Theodore the Studite. And it was the monastic population that also pro- duced the inventors of a sophisticated musical notation which enabled scribes to preserve, in hand-written codices, the elegant musical practices of the medieval East.

But the emergent heretical movements of the fourth and fifth centuries exploited the charm of music and enticed many away from Orthodoxy with newly-composed hymns. They were so successful that the Orthodox were forced to retaliate by using the same weapon. At first, only hymns found in Scripture itself were permitted: the Magnificat, the Song of Symeon, the Psalms, the Old Testament canticles, etc., but later the Orthodox wrote troparia and kontakia based directly on the metrical and musical patterns of the heretics’’ hymns. These early compo- sitions were specifically designed as processional pieces, for use in the streets and squares, not in churches, and they involved full congregational or crowd participation.

Thus from the fourth century onward, music became an indispensable element of worship. It underscored that fundamental concept of koinonia or communio which was so vital and so real in the early Church. It was the task of all present to sing, to participate in song, to respond with one heart and one voice to the celebrant. Note that music was never understood as a pri- vate, personal, devotional exercise (though this is not entirely excluded); its function was communal; it identified the popular element of liturgical celebration. For this reason, any music used in church which focuses attention onto a particular person or group, which forces another group into becoming passive listeners and observers, is alien to the age-old tradition of the Church and to the accepted perception of liturgy as an act involving all the faithful. This is not to say that there were no soloists——there were indeed, but primarily it was their duty to lead and to cue responses from the assembled body of the faithful, and not to extemporize or to innovate.

How was this accomplished? There were two kinds of singing in the early Church: an an- cient Responsorial form and a later Antiphonal form. The former began with the soloist’’s sing- ing of the response, usually a selected verse from a psalm. This served to give the pitches to the choir (made up of the entire congregation) which then repeated the response. The soloist fol- lowed by singing the verses of the psalm in such a fashion that the melody used for each verse or half-verse ended with the same notes that began the response. Receiving their cues in this manner, the members of the choir repeated the response after each verse. This subtle method of achieving musical unity, peculiar to the Eastern service, obviously had its origin in the practical concerns of the performance. With the advent of trained choirs, however, the need for these

History of Byzantine Chant

cues would undoubtedly have disappeared, and they were probably maintained primarily for the sake of their contribution to the overall musical structure. The Antiphonal procedure re- quired that the congregation be divided into two, each with its own leader and each with its own refrain: this time the refrain did not need to be from the Psalter. In this form the Small Doxology was always added to the psalm as a final verse.

4. Notation

There were no notes to record music until after the 9th century. St Isidore of Seville in the 7th century lamented the fact that the sounds of music vanished and there was no way of writ- ing them down. Only towards the end of the first millennium was it felt that the singers’’ fragile memories were not adequately conserving the sacred melodies that something was done to fix the plainchants in writing.

Byzantine chant manuscripts date from the 9th century, while lectionaries of Biblical read- ings with ecphonetic notation begin about a century earlier. Fully diastematic Byzantine nota- tion, which can be readily converted into the modern system, surfaces in the last quarter of the 12th century. Currently known as round or middle Byzantine notation, it differs decisively from earlier forms (paleobyzantine notation) in that it represents an explicit technique of writing, ac- counting even for minor details of performance. When reading the earlier, simple notation, the singer was expected to interpret or realize the stenography by applying certain established rules (generally unknown now but absolutely familiar to him) in order to provide an accurate and acceptable rendition of the music. The change to greater precision came about initially in re- sponse to an urgent need: to capture the vestiges of an old and dying melodic tradition then los- ing its supremacy in the face of more progressive and complex musical styles. But the actual process of substitution from the implicit to the explicit system is not easily explained, since mixed traditions characterize notational procedures used in the Byzantine world, each new manuscript revealing a variance, an inconsistency, or a deviation. Broadly speaking, scholars have discerned two principal paleobyzantine notations, of common origin yet distinct and con- temporaneous in their development: Coislin and Chartres (the names are taken from two exem- plars, MS Coislin and a fragment of MS Lavra ␣. 67, which was formerly at Chartres). Their origins are believed to lie in the ancient grammatical accents, and they are comparable to the Latin staffless neumes.

Specifically, Coislin is a notation that chiefly employs a limited number of rudimentary di- astematic neumes (oxeia, bareia, apostrophos, petast␣, and klasma) independently and in com- bination, with the addition of a small number of simple auxiliaries and incidental signs. Char- tres notation, on the other hand, is mainly characterized by its use of elaborate signs that stand for melodic groups. Around 1050 these two primitive systems terminated their coexistence, the former superseding the latter and continuing its development until ca. 1106. Toward the end of the century it succumbed to the totally explicit round method. The new system embodied a uni- formity that is inherent in any written tradition, but, more than this, it established a number of influential precedents both in manuscript transmission and in musical theory. It suppressed the instability of oral tradition, and it countered the inconsistencies of diverse musical practices. Melodies written in round notation developed an aura of sanctity and became models for sub- sequent generations of composers. One immediate result of this was the appearance of new mu-

History of Byzantine Chant

sic books for soloists (the Psaltikon), for choristers (the Asmatikon), and for both (the Akolouthia). But much more was involved in the substitution of notations than a mere evolution to greater clarity. Other changes were taking place in liturgical ordos and in performance prac- tices, and the advent of the round system satisfied the demands placed on music by a new class of professional musicians (the maistores), who naturally favored an exact method of writing that could capture the nuances and elaborations of their highly specialized art. Marked devel- opments in the liturgical tradition, which had reached a culminating stage by the end of the 12th century, gave the scribes an additional incentive to provide appropriate musical material in newly edited choir books.

Following an independent development and surviving until the 14th century in a relatively unchanged state is the notation that was devised to accommodate Biblical lessons: ecphonetic or lectionary notation. It comprises a small set of signs that occur as couples, one at the begin- ning and one at the end of every phrase in the text, presumably requiring the application of dif- ferent kinds of cantillation formulas. Like the Coislin and Chartres systems, ecphonetic nota- tion was of value for the singer, who used it only as a memory aid; but complete reconstruction of the melody line is impossible today.

Byzantine chant notation in its fully developed and unambiguous form represents a highly ingenious system of interrelationships among a handful of symbols that enabled scribes to con- vey a great variety of rhythmic, melodic, and dynamic nuances. Certain signs called somata (bodies) refer to single steps up or down; others called pneumata (spirits) denote leaps. Five of the former group also carry dynamic value, and when combined with the pneumata, they lose their step value but indicate the appropriate stress or nuance. For example, the oxeia (acute) marks an ascending second with emphasis (usually denoted by >). When placed with the hyp- s␣l␣ (high), the ascending fifth , the oxeia loses its intervallic value but has its dynamic qual- ity applied to the new note. Standing apart from these is the ison (equal) , which asks for a repetition of the note sung before. Another group of signs refers to the rhythmic duration (note lengthenings), and another (the hypostases) to ornaments. At the beginning of the chant, a spe- cial signature (martyria) indicates the mode and the starting pitch. Therefore, in order to sing from a medieval Greek chant book, the trained cantor (psaltes) would work his way through the piece by steps and leaps, applying the necessary nuances and durations as required by the neumes. To avoid confusion, scribes frequently drew the somata and pneumata in black or brown ink and the hypostases in red.

The introduction of neume notation in the 9th century had both positive and negative ef- fects for plainchant. On the positive side, it meant that an authoritative version of a plainchant melody could be transmitted, without alteration or deterioration, to other singers in distant places that were unfamiliar with the tradition. On the negative side, it meant that plainchant melodies had in effect become fixed once and for all. What do I mean by this?

During the first nine centuries of Christianity, the Byzantine musical tradition of plain- chant managed to keep alive a certain improvisatory fervour that was also manifest in the spon- taneity of prayers and rituals in the early Christian liturgy. Now, with some strokes of a 9th- century pen, the plainchant melodies were caught in a rigid stylisation. They became as if em- balmed and their stylistic profiles conformed to 9th-century and eventually, later, tastes. The old chants that originated as ““sung prayers”” were henceforth crystallised ““art-objects.”” Yet

History of Byzantine Chant

once the neume notation was available to Byzantine Church musicians, it was impossible to ignore its capabilities. And soon the notation became a force for artistic experiment, since it gave composers a way to try out new musical ideas, letting them ponder their novelties and cir- culate them for others to examine and compare.

Thus, with a supply of graphic devices both to enshrine the ancient melodies and to record new compositions, the Byzantine musician embraces the art of composing. To begin with, this art meant something a little different from what it does today. It was not just a matter of think- ing up fresh and novel sound combinations and putting personal inspiration on display. Cer- tainly the sacred texts were given a musical dress that was designed to enhance their expres- sion. But this was accomplished largely without injecting the human creative personality.

Most early Byzantine composers were content to practise their craft anonymously in the service of the Church. Their names are unknown, and in their musical techniques a similar im- personality prevails. The early chants tend to be built out of little twists and turns of melody that everyone had heard and used for generations. The word composing actually means putting things together, and that was essentially what the Byzantine composers did. They arranged, ad- justed and stylised from a fund of age-old melodic bits and phrases that were active in the communal memory. Therefore, when a ““new”” melody was created, it was often not entirely fresh and original. More frequently it was a refinement of some existing strains. It is for this reason I said earlier that impersonality prevails not only in anonymity but also in musical tech- niques.

5. Psalmody and Hymnody

Unlike the acclamations and lectionary recitatives, Byzantine psalmody and hymnody were systematically assigned to the eight ecclesiastical modes that, from about the 8th century, provided the compositional framework for Eastern and Western musical practices. Research has demonstrated that, for all practical purposes, the októ␣chos, as the system is called, was the same for Latins, Greeks, and Slavs in the Middle Ages. Each mode is characterized by the de- ployment of a restricted set of melodic formulas that is peculiar to the mode and that constitutes the substance of the hymn. Although these formulas may be arranged in many different combi- nations and variations, most of the phrases of any given chant are nevertheless reducible to one or another of this small number of melodic fragments.

Both psalmody and hymnody are represented by florid and syllabic settings in the manu- script tradition. Byzantine syllabic psalm tones display extremely archaic features such as the rigidly organized four-element cadence that is mechanically applied to the last four syllables of the verse, regardless of accent or quantity. The florid Psalm verses such as those for commun- ion, which first appear in 12th- and 13th-century choir books, demonstrate a simple motivic uniformity that transcends modal ordering and undoubtedly reflects a pre-okto␣ch congrega- tional recitative.

All forms and styles of Byzantine chant, as exhibited in the early sources, are strongly formulaic in design. Only in the final period of the chant’’s development did new composers abandon this procedure in favor of the highly ornate kalophonic style. The most celebrated of these composers, and one entirely representative of the new school, was the maistor St. John Koukouzeles (fl. ca. 1300), who organized the new chants into large anthologies. This final

History of Byzantine Chant

phase of Byzantine musical activity provided the main thrust that was to survive throughout the Ottoman period and that continues to dominate the current tradition.

6. Later Byzantine Era

Turning now to the later Byzantine period itself and on to our own times, we enter the era in which music is something taken entirely for granted in Christian worship: a feature auto- matically expected. To celebrate a service without music would seem highly irregular. In a large measure it is the event which many most look forward to because music has come to identify the festive nature of a liturgical occasion——the aural embodiment of that which has brought the faithful together.

How is it that music has taken over in this way? Why has it become the measure of liturgi- cal prayer and worship? It is precisely because it is an art of great subtlety and power which, when used correctly, can greatly distort or even caricature sacred poetry, but when understood properly, it can heighten the significance of the celebration, contribute to prayer, and emphasize the corporate nature of worship.

Music functions as a dramatic element——it has a unique and central place in the general structure of liturgy; it has acquired liturgical significance. Almost every word pronounced in church is ““sung”” in one form or another. And the manner in which it is sung greatly affects the nature of the service. Week by week, season by season, the Church’’s song draws out the inner meaning of liturgical poetry.

7. Post-Byzantine Era

The year 1453 has been considered terminal by most writers, and while none would flatly deny that traditional musical elements, both practical and theoretical, were preserved at least until the middle of the sixteenth century, most would uphold the view that the hymnodic pro- ductions of the Ottoman era represent a disintegration of the authentic, Byzantine forms of ar- tistic expression and were the results of a growth of new and innovative impulses that were alien to the spirit and evolutionary pattern of the medieval past. As we look closer into the his- tory of Christian art in Ottoman times, we may detect in the literature a curious duality: a mix- ture of conservatism and elasticity, of traditional compositional methods and personal self- aggrandizement, of laconic control and specious exoticisms. This duality is particularly appar- ent in the musical repertory where both old and new are seen to exist side by side. A policy of artistic liberalism and reverence for the past was the hallmark of the epoch. For while resem- blances to past practices stand out as both familiar and apparent, it is also the differences mani- fested within the familiar procedures that grant the absorbing attention and appeal experienced in the music, and this becomes increasingly obvious the more we discover the historical and technical processes and the origins and transmissions of the compositions. Ultimately, each chant is unique is some particular way and even a passing familiarity with the musical conven- tions of the time, makes it possible for us to appreciate many of the individual features. Collec- tively, these elements create a new musical vocabulary, one which characterizes and eventually epitomizes an emerging neo-Hellenic style. From an accumulated experience of these individ- ual traits, our knowledge of this style is more certain and we can begin to move with more as- surance to its proper interpretation and evaluation. Otherwise, we shall forever be unable to

History of Byzantine Chant

fathom fully the sophisticated craft that those diligent scribes from Constantinople, Mount Athos, Cyprus, Crete, Serbia and Moldavia enshrined in collections which until today have been undeservedly ignored.

One highly controversial figure was the Cretan poet, theologian, calligrapher, singer, dip- lomat, scribe and priest Ioannes Plousiadenos (born around 1429) who later became Joseph, Bishop of Methone. After 1454, he was one of twelve Byzantine priests who officially sup- ported the union of the Eastern and Western Churches ratified by the Ferrara-Florence Council of 1438 and 1439. He even wrote the texts for two parahymnographical kanons, one entitled ““Kanon to Saint Thomas Aquinas””), which glorifies the great Catholic theologian, and the other, ““Kanon for the Eighth Ecumenical Council which assembled in Florence””). The latter is modelled on the metrical and rhythmical patterns of one of the Resurrection kanons in mode IV plagal by Saint John of Damascus, but it was hardly likely to have been used in the Greek Church because of its pro-henotic sentiments, triumphantly celebrating the outcome of the Council of Florence at which Orthodox acceptance of the ““filioque”” phrase in the Nicene Creed was allegedly secured.

Very recently, evidence has been discovered of Plousiadenos’’s involvement in musical composition to serve the same end. In an attempt to introduce Western polyphony into the Greek Church, Plousiadenos wrote at least one, or possibly two, communion verses (koinonika) in a primitive kind of two-voice discant. Apart from these isolated examples, the experiment with Latin polyphony in the East had run its course, and inevitably so. It was not until several decades later that the choral ison or drone-singing was introduced into Greek church music, marking a fundamental change from the centuries-old monophonic tradition. The earliest noti- fication of the custom appears to have been made in 1584 by the German traveller, Martin Cru- sius.

A strong case can surely be made to classify the period of musical composition from around 1500 to 1820 neither as ““post-Byzantine”” nor ““neo-Byzantine,”” nor even as ““Byzan- tine,”” but rather as neo-Hellenic, since the musical aspect of artistic creation, particularly after the seventeenth century, participated with other art forms in establishing a widely- acknowledged modern Greek renaissance. Understood in this manner, it is less likely that one will view the artistic and technical productions of the Ottoman years merely as an extension of Byzantium or as its decadent and aesthetically inadequate offspring.

At the forefront of this renaissance is sacred chant, the recorded history of which is pre- served in an imposing bulk of musical manuscripts (most of them dated) that are located in widely dispersed and often inaccessible collections: public, private and monastic. Despite the fact that it may take a great many years to acquire a thorough familiarity with all of the sources that are known today, it is yet possible for us to divide the history of the evolution of church music from the fall of Constantinople until the Greek revolution into five periods:

(a) 1453-1580 —— a time of renewed interest in traditional forms, the growth of important scribal workshops beyond the capital, and a new interest in theoretical discussions;

(b) 1580-1650 —— a period of innovation and experimentation, the influence of foreign mu- sical traditions, the emergence of the kalophonic (or embellished) chants as a dominant genre, and the conception of sacred chants as independently composed art-objects;

History of Byzantine Chant

(c) 1650-1720 —— when extensive musical training was available in many centres and when elegantly written music books appear as artistic monuments in their own right. Musicians of this age were subjecting older chants to highly sophisticated embellishments and their perform- ance demanded virtuosic skills on the part of the singers. In addition, the first attempts at sim- plifying the increasingly complex neumatic notation were being made;

(d) 1720-1770 —— a period of further experimentation in notational forms, a renewed inter- est in older, Byzantine hymn settings, the systematic production of music manuscripts and of voluminous Anthologies that incorporated several centuries of musical settings;

(e) 1770-1820 —— a time of great flowering in church music composition and the suprem- acy of Constantinople as a centre where professional musicians controlled initiatives in the spheres of composition, theory and performance. Among these initiatives were: further nota- tional reforms, new genres of chant, the reordering of the old music books, the more prominent intrusion of external or foreign musical elements, and, finally, by 1820, the termination of the hand-copied manuscript tradition.

8. The Reforms of Chrysanthos

The decade 1810-1820 was, for the history of Greek chant, both turbulent and decisive. Two major goals were finally achieved: first, the implementation and universal acceptance of an entirely new notational system (1814) which had evolved from the interpretative experi- ments of Balasios the priest (flourished around 1670 to 1700) through the formulations of the protopsaltes, Ioannes Trapezoundios (1756), of Petros Peloponnesios (ca. 1730-1777), of Petros Byzantios (d. 1808) and of Georgios of Crete (d. 1816); and second, as a consequence to the former, the invention of musical print and the simultaneous publication of the first music book (1820).

Chrysanthos of Madytos (ca. 1770- ca. 1840), an uncommonly well-educated and highly cultured hierarch, was primarily responsible for the reform, and his system survives until this day. He had an excellent knowledge of Latin and French, and was familiar with European as well as with Arabic music, being proficient in playing the western flute and the eastern ““nay.”” Chrysanthos had learned the art of chanting from Petros Byzantios and himself taught singing. As a composer and educator, he became acutely aware of the need for more clarity in the proc- ess of studying and understanding of Greek church music. The medieval neumatic notation had now become so complex and technical that only highly skilled chanters were able to interpret the symbols accurately. To facilitate that end and to simplify the teaching of this difficult art, he invented a set of monosyllabic sounds for the musical scale based on the European sol-fa sys- tem but using the first seven letters of the Greek alphabet. Each degree corresponded to one note in the scale:

␣␣-␣␣␣-␣␣-␣␣-␣␣-␣␣-␣␣ = R␣-M␣-F␣-S␣L-L␣-S␣-D␣

In addition, he systematized the ordering of the eight modes into three species: diatonic, chromatic and enharmonic. Within each of these three categories, the intervallic progression of the degrees was fixed according to elaborate mathematical calculations. Chrysanthos also in- troduced new processes of modulation and chromatic alteration and abolished some of the nota-

History of Byzantine Chant

tional symbols. As a result of these efforts, a large repertory of hymnody was made available to chanters who were ignorant of the melodic and dynamic content of the old signs.

Owing to this breach with the traditional methods of teaching, Chrysanthos is said to have been exiled to Madytos by order of the Constantinopolitan patriarch. Yet, apparently this did not stop him from pursuing his highly original approach to the teaching of ecclesiastical music. In Madytos, he found that his pupils were able to learn in ten months what had formerly taken ten years. The crucial device speeding up the process of learning appears to have been his use of the aforementioned newly invented solmization syllables. Finally exonerated by the Holy Synod, Chrysanthos was then given a free hand to teach music as he saw fit. It was at this point that he joined forces with the protopsaltes, Grigorios and the archivist, Chourmouzios, both of whom seem to have had less formal education than Chrysanthos, yet according to their biogra- phies possessed a great natural ability for music. All three taught at the Third Patriarchal School of Music (opened 1815) and this ensured the success and propagation of the new sys- tem. The results of Chrysanthos’’s research and teaching methods appeared for the first time in a treatise entitled ““Introduction to the theory and practice of ecclesiastical music written for the use of those studying according to the new method”” published in Paris in 1821. Eleven years later there appeared in Trieste the more exhaustive and highly influential Great Theory of Mu- sic which, in its first part, expounded the new theories and notational principles of the three re- formers.

The second part of the Great Theory is purely historical. Chrysanthos made an ambitious but unsuccessful attempt to present, in the form of a chronicle, a general history of music from the time before the Great Flood to his own day. It is recorded that he wrote many other works, including transcriptions of Greek church music to European staff notation and European music to the notation of the new method, but none survives. Despite its numerous shortcomings, the oeuvre of Chrysanthos is a landmark in the history of Greek church music since it introduced the system upon which are based the present-day chants of the Greek Orthodox Church.

The invention of musical type marked the end of the long and fascinating tradition of the music manuscript. In 1820, Peter Ephesios, a student of the three teachers, published in Bucar- est the editions of the Anastasimatarion and Syntomon Doxastarion by Petros Peloponnesios. And, of the older pieces, those that entered the printed repertory were randomly selected by subsequent editors. After 1830, the official musical tradition of the Greek Orthodox Church was represented by the following books: the Anastasimatarion, the Heirmologion and the Syn- tomon Doxastarion of Petros Peloponnesios, the Syntomon Heirmologion of Petros Byzantios, the Doxastarion of Iakovos the protopsaltes, and the New Anthology of the Papadike——all re- written according to the interpretations of Grigorios protopsaltes and Chourmouzios in the new, simplified notation of Chrysanthos.

9. From the 19th Century to the Present

The emergence of the printed music book after 1820 led to a standardization of the chant repertory both on mainland Greece and on Athos. Selected popular works of the great Constan- tinopolitan masters of the 18th and early 19th centuries were type set and included in antholo- gies of chant. But alongside these, simplified Western-style melodies were also making inroads in popular editions of sacred music published, for example, by the influential Zoe movement.

History of Byzantine Chant

For a short time Athos could not resist the increasingly fashionable Italianate style that was being introduced by Western trained musicians and by the great influx of Russian monks on the Mountain before 1917. But this was soon to be counterbalanced by the new sounds of the Asia Minor refugees who flooded into Greece and eventually onto Athos after the 1920s and 1930s——precisely when the Russian population on the Mountain was entering a decline.

To begin with, the Church music of these Anatolians, though very much a continuation of the earlier tradition of Ottoman times, was rejected by the Greek urban middle classes as vulgar and ““Turkish.”” They had become enamoured of the sweet polyphonic choirs, some of them with organ accompaniment. But, in time, radio, the gramophone and television also proliferated sophisticated European styles——and these styles, though in a neo-Byzantine dress, have affected certain repertories of Athonite music even to this day.

Even as early as the 18th century there is evidence of a sharp negative reaction by the Athonites to city church music. An anonymous hand writes in a Vatopedi manuscript the fol- lowing stinging remarks in verse:

The psalmodies of Byzantium like the nightingales are heard; While those of the Holy Mountain resemble the tunes of guileless swallows; But the ones in Athens warble like the falcons; And the psalmodies of Crete are the arid squawking of the crows.

There has indeed been a revival of traditional Eastern-style chant on the Holy Mountain, just as there has been a revival of traditional icon painting. But wittingly or unwittingly ele- ments of Western diatonic music have blended with the chant——a phenomenon reminiscent of what we had observed in earlier centuries with the infiltration of Ottoman sounds into Byzan- tine melody.

Another feature of Athonite musical life in the post-war years has been what I term the cult of the virtuoso. Until its very recent return, choral music fell into a decline on the peninsula and instead one heard master soloists improvising and elaborating chant with extraordinary vocal skills and deft Oriental turns. The most famous of these soloists was the deacon Dionysios Fir- firis (d. 1991), whose evocative voice and improvisational skills created a sensation both on and off the Mountain.

Since the mid-1970s, with the revival of monastic life by young, educated monks, the mu- sical emphasis has begun to shift from performance by an individual to that by the group. For many years Simonopetra alone has employed full double choirs for every service, each day of the year. Its example has recently been followed by Vatopedi. This more traditional perform- ance practice is gaining popularity in convents and monasteries on the mainland and abroad. Moreover, use of the Book of Psalms——the ancient song book of the early monasteries——has been revived, and new melodious settings for them have been composed.

History of Byzantine Chant

Approximately fifteen years ago, a suave, lyrical melody set to a religious poem by St. Nektarios of Aegina was composed by a monk at Simonopetra and subsequently recorded on cassette tape and CD. Within two years this melody circled the globe. It has captured the hearts of Orthodox choir masters worldwide. The hymn, entitled, ““O Pure Virgin,”” can today be heard sung in Japanese, French, Tinglit, Italian, Russian, Swahili, Arabic, Romanian, English, and many other languages. Its popularity is entirely due to the fact that it combines familiar ele- ments of two different musical cultures: the harmonic and metrical features of European lyrical ballads with the vocal production and exoticism that evokes a flavour of the East.

What of the future? I believe that we shall observe a greater degree of choral singing as opposed to soloistic virtuosity——though the latter will not disappear entirely for some time. Athonite music will also be greatly commercialised in the near future with the proliferation of CDs and chant anthologies in countries beyond Greece. Such tendencies have are already visi- ble in Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, the Middle East and the United States of America. On the other hand, there has also been a recent tendency to examine the old manuscripts in order to re- discover earlier traditions and vocal practices. Western musical tendencies, though perhaps never acknowledged as such, may continue to blend with the chant.

The Athonite musical tradition has adapted over the centuries to changing cultural tastes and conditions. This identifies it as an art that is living and flexible. At all events, because of its prestige, Athos will be a pace-setter for trends well beyond its own territory.

 

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