Sunday, May 30, 2004
Assigning blame for bad church music
Scattered discussions around St Blog's about who's at fault. The nuns. The liberals. The microphone sales staff. The publishers. The bishops. The egotistical musicians.
On Fr Jeff Keyes' blog someone asked me if I was joking for saying the progressives aren't to blame for over-use of microphones. Sorry, no. We're not.
Progressive church design excludes any amount of carpet use, a known killer of natural acoustics. We would tend to advise you against hiring a three-in-one consultant for all your sound system needs. One parish I know hired some guys to tell tham they needed to upgrade their sound system to the tune of $20,000, then spend $50,000 on padding the walls. These guys do arenas, evangelical mega-churches, and conference centers. They want to make a dollar, too. But the last time I checked material from LTP (their fine series on architecture, Meeting House Essays) or Form/Reform (their conferences on architecture and art) and other progressive liturgy outlets, they're all saying: natural acoustics not carpet, pipe organs not synthesizers, less mics not more. This is a party line, people.
Instead of necessarily criticizing progressives or traditionalists, I prefer to scapegoat the ignorant. There are lots of musicians, pastors, architects, and other kindly folks who are very good at what they do. But in matters of good church music, perhaps there is less competence than there should be.
If you think carpeting and seat pads are a good idea for your church because people should be comfortable, well enough. But don't blame Vatican II when your acoustics go to hell in a handbasket over your choice. Maybe your bottom line would be greener by getting a Hammond FunMachine instead of a pipe organ and a grand piano. But who's going to want to get involved in a parish that warbles its music so economically so as to stifle all spirit in song?
I suggest a challenge. Find me a progressive liturgist or periodical or book from the past twenty years that suggests mic'ing the cantor like a strangler fig. I dare you.
