All that hath life and breath Helping the whole congregation take its rightful place in the Church’s song with an explanation of the copyright laws as they affect the local congregation No.3 in a series of church music pamphlets from the Panel on Worship of the Church of Scotland What this pamphlet contains 1. ‘The way we’ve always done it!’ And that, for many, is the end of the argument. Except that we haven’t always done it that way - and the varied sounds of Scottish church music provide fascinating proof .....................................................................page 3 2. Teaching a congregation to sing well. Hardly ever part of the training of church musicians, nevertheless there are many simple ways of improving the situation. Plus six maxims for teaching any congregation new tunes ...............................page 12 3. ‘To every cow its calf...’ Are they trying to stop us singing? Why should people make money out of hymns? Copyright laws in perspective, and in practice ............................................page 23 Other music pamphlets in this series 1. With heart and hands and voices Leading the music of the local church. 2. With a loud noise skilfully Using instruments in worship. 4. Assist our song Where to find music to match the times and seasons of the Christian Calendar (out January 1998). 5. A well-tuned heart. A visit to some choirs of your acquaintance (well disguised) in pursuit of matters concerning music and morale (out November 1997). All cost £1.50 (£1.75 if ordered by post) Office for Worship, 121 George Street, Edinburgh EH2 4YN Tel. 0131 225 5722, Fax 0131 220 3113 A parallel series of pamphlets on issues raised by the discussion on ‘all-age worship’ is planned for the Spring of 1998 1 ‘The way we’ve always done it!’ From Celts to Reformers The music of Scotland has always been distinctive - and very exportable. The torpid air of the Australian outback may stir to the sound of the pipes, the lilt of the Gaelic song is heard in the fishing ports of Nova Scotia, a reel takes the floor in Florida, Auld Lang Syne ends a night out in Moscow, while an Appallachian spiritual hints at its Border origins. ‘The world still marches, laments, sings farewell and dances to our tune’ (John Purseri). This distinctiveness goes back to the times of the Celtic or Columban Church which spread the Gospel through a developing nation of considerable artistic and musical imagination. The sounds of the surrounding culture - from rock gong and bull horn to bell and harp - would add colour to the life and worship of the church, just as the druids’ legacy enriched the prayer, the poetry and the song. The little evidence there is about music in worship suggests that while the Scottish Church remained as up to date as any it also made its own unique contribution. The little known Inchcolm Antiphoner (C13-14), for example, has room for the beautiful and restrained ‘Gregorian chant’, known throughout the Western Church, but also for chants in honour of St. Columba which may date from centuries earlier. By contrast, they leap and soar with intensity and expressiveness, shaping the music to the rhymes of the text, calling for a wider vocal range, more formally patterned than the fluent Gregorian tones - music to match these sophisticated designs on parchment and stone. Later, the musical equivalent of splitting the atom came when people in the Middle Ages found the way to write and sing in formal parts. Music historians the world over know about the early Orkney Hymn to St. Magnus where the two voices uniquely run parallel to each other. Then there was the famous St. Andrews Music Book, removed in the sixteenth century and now bearing the name of the continental library (Wolfenbuttel) which is now its resting place. Written about 1250, it contained the latest music from Paris as well as innovatory compositions which were clearly local in origin, lively in rhythm and daring in decoration. This combining of the cosmopolitan and the domestic is found again around 1500 in the music of Robert Carver, whose music has only recently been heard again after centuries of silence. There is plenty of the sophisticated sound of the continent in his scores but the compound dance rhythms of secular song and the feeling of being in two ‘ home keys’ at once so characteristic of Scottish folk music keep breaking in. His towering mass in ten parts, and his stunning motet O bone Jesu, which has no less than nineteen, are remarkable compositions. In the two centuries leading up to the Reformation, arrangements for music in worship could be quite elaborate. In major churches choir places would be funded by revenues from rural parishes. In the Collegiate Church of St. Salvator, the university church in St. Andrews, for example, certain staff and students had an obligation to sing at services. Extra chaplains could be appointed as much for their singing voices and their ‘proficiency in plainsong’ as for ability to perform the usual duties. All together some 30 adult and young choristers (from the sang schule) would be mustered for the daily offices and Sunday mass. There are many similar examples, such as St. Machar’s Cathedral, Aberdeen, where documents show that in 1506 there were 20 vicars choral and 6 boys. The evidence of history, then, is that for all its geographical isolation, church and people in Scotland not only welcomed musical developments from outwith the country but added to these significantly and boldly from their own stores of skill and imagination. The Psalms One feature of the Columban Church was a fondness for psalm-singing far beyond the practice of adjoining churches. The cycle of daily worship in the monasteries (which provided the whole church with its structure and unity) were packed with psalms. Even during the 3am night office, it would be not uncommon for two to three dozen psalms to be sung on weekdays and up to 75 at weekends. An outstanding ability to sing was attributed to numerous saints; Columba’s voice was said by his biographer Adamnan to be capable of being heard a mile away. Whether this love of psalms ‘jumped the gap’ or no, come the Reformation, when the music was placed firmly back in the congregation, it was the psalms which were its staple, and only, diet. From the Reformation to the publication of the paraphrases in 1781 and the first (mainstream) hymn books in the 1870s, the only words heard in worship were metrical versions of the psalms and the only tunes the ‘Common Tune’, the ‘English tune’, ‘Martyrs’ and their fellows. Between 1564 and 1666, no less than seven psalters with tunes were published, either in Edinburgh or Aberdeen. What kind of sound was produced? In one way, the singing was simpler. For well over 300 years singing was unaccompanied. Organs had not been encouraged by the Reformers; many had fallen into disrepair; others had been removed. Singing was led by a Precentor who started the congregation off on the right note and kept everyone singing at the same speed. But in other places, particularly the cities, the singing might have sounded surprisingly rich and elaborate. Some twenty years after the Reformation, an act was passed to re-open the choir schools which had trained choristers for the more elaborate services of the pre-Reformation church. These, which by 1600 were spread through the greater part of the Lowlands, provided the music for the main church in the town, and you might find special seats under the pulpit for 'the maister of the sang schuil and his bairnis' (quoted Johnson Music in Eighteenth Century Scotland). As well as supporting the melody itself, these musically-trained worshippers would contribute descants and other parts, since there are plenty of settings in three, four or five parts surviving from this period where the tune is in the ‘tenor’. Psalms would sound even more 'decorated' when they were written 'in reports' - more elaborate settings where the voices came in one after the other as they would in a round, again usually with the tenor holding the tune. The fact that this was called the 'church part' perhaps indicates that this was what most of the congregation would sing. The great Scottish Psalter of 1635 had over 200 pieces - psalms, canticles and ‘anthems’, a quarter of them of Scottish origin. It is possible that people's memories were better in these earlier times, making it possible to be less 'book bound', to sing with more expression, and to remember musical parts. (There may be a parallel with African and South American countries today, where singers who have no musical training are able to remember complex rhythms and harmonise tunes by rote learning.) The only chink in this psalm curtain was the appearance of the Gude and Godlie Ballatis, which, in addition to psalms in metre, contained Christmas carols, translations of hymns by Martin Luther, and religious ballads set to such well-known tunes as ‘With huntis up’ and ‘Johne cum kis me now’. Some of the words might be too frank for the modern churchgoer, for the authors’ zeal for reform could lead them to write: God send to everie prieste ane wyfe, And everie nunne a man. It is fairly certain that this startling mixture of the sublime and the polemical was for domestic use rather than public worship. Compiled by the Wedderburn brothers of Dundee as the Reformation approached, it would have been an effective way of popularising the new, or rather rediscovered, doctrines as people sang their way into change. A period of decline If there was still some variety and colour in church music in sone places after the Reformation, this state of affairs was not to last. On 1 May 1650, by the authority of the General Assembly, a translation of metrical Psalms without accompanying music was published for use in public worship. It is this version that has been sung in churches the length and breadth of Scotland until the present day. But from around that date the quality of psalm singing changed for the worse. First came the 'lining out' of psalms, where the Precentor recited each line on a monotone which was then repeated, parrot-fashion, by the congregation. There is some evidence to suggest that this practice originated south of the Border, where less literate English congregations, unable to read the text, needed to hear the words before they could sing them. This practice, commonly combined with a slow tempo, made good congregational singing virtually impossible. Then there was the phenomenon that has been called the 'tyranny of the twelve', a fixed canon of exactly twelve tunes to which the psalms might legitimately be sung. In time, these strong, simple, dignified, grave melodies came to be regarded as no less sacred and inviolate than the Holy Scripture they accompanied. When in 1755 a demonstration of alternative tunes was given, the Aberdeen Kirk Session indignantly exhorted precentors 'to sing only, in all time coming, the twelve church tunes commonly sung in Scotland'. In some rural areas only five tunes were used: French, Martyrs, York, Dundee and Elgin. By 1700 many of the music schools had closed and with them, perhaps, went the custom of singing in parts. Increasingly less musical expertise was asked from the Precentor who would now typically double as Session Clerk, grave digger, bell ringer etc., and whose required qualifications, according to a commentator of the time, were 'poverty and a loud voice for reading the line'. With this came a return to a reedy, nasal singing tone, common in folk-song; there would be time lags between different parts of the congregation; tunes - perhaps in an effort to restore some interest to the music - became absurdly overdecoratedii Much needed entertainment value was sometimes provided when an underequipped precentor slipped by mistake from the psalm tune to the melody of a popular ballad tune (the ‘common metre’ of the psalm was originally derived from the metre of the ballad). One congregation found they were singing Ps.107 to Sir Patrick Spensiii. (At least both are about going to sea!). Revival The depth of the tedium that church music had fallen into, and the irritation it caused among worshippers, is evidenced by the fact that when reform came it happened virtually overnight. It seems to have started in Monymusk in Aberdeenshire, where Sir Archibald Grant had been encouraging the formation of local choirs. This received a fillip with the appointment as choirmaster of Thomas Channon, an English soldier based at Aberdeen. Under his baton, a craze for choir singing swept Aberdeen culminating in a demonstration one Sunday morning in the Kirk of St. Nicholas. In spite of being condemned as 'a new-fangled profanation' and rated a worse disaster than the 1745 rebellion. Virtually simultaneously in Edinburgh (where eight classes were established) and Glasgow (a 'free school ... to encourage and promote the improvement of church music'), the 'New Singing' brought a revival to the worship of the church which never then looked back. It even brought its version of the Panel on Worship's practical 'hands-on' pamphlets, like Bremner's Plan for teaching a crowd on how to start choirs from scratch in country towns! That such gatherings did not confine themselves to practising the psalms is suggested by the common practice of publishers of attaching to psalters an appendix full of 'canons, airs and catches' (although the Free Church warned that 'jigs and rants' should never be used for the actual words of the psalms). As the nineteenth century began, however, commentators were still finding fault with the music of the church. There seem to have been too many books of psalms, with too many different harmonisations, and with too many mistakes. Precentors were often incompetent, parts were dimly remembered and scrappily sung, and there was little surviving memory of the fine Scottish tunes of the Reformation years. Several publications rushed in to fill the gap and General Assemblies set up committees. The result was a growing choir movement and a determined attempt to teach the rudiments of music to any who would learn. Church music, according to a Free Church report (1852), is 'surely entitled to something more than the fag-end of a man's time ... Precentors must be teachers of music' ivnot just note givers and time keepers. However, many felt that creating more choirs was not the answer. One report forbade 'the foreign aid of instruments or of a trained band (choir)'; another sought a revival of singing which would 'eclipse the heartless choir, and rival - nay, surpass - the thunders of the organ'. An Ayrshire Kirk Session allowed a choir only if it were confined to church members or their children, were limited to twelve persons, if membership was by invitation only, and as long as it never co-incided with the precentor's congregational psalmody practice! Clearly organs were also a sore point. They had been making their re-appearance as early as 1722 (in the Episcopal Church) but a full-scale war of pamphlets and Assembly deliverances was still being waged as late as 1830 in the Presbyterian churches (e.g. A new stop to the organ). After the installation of a harmonium in Greyfriars' Edinburgh in 1863, more and more churches installed organs, and with the blessing of Assemblies (the Church of Scotland in 1864, the UPs in 1872 and the Frees in 1883). If it was only relatively recently that organs became a feature of our worship, the same is true of hymns. Although there were one or two earlier collections (the Relief Church published one in 1792; even earlier the Glasites’ 1775 collection made use of such tunes as ‘The birks o' Abermay’, ‘Bonny Jean’ and ‘The Gaberlunzie Man’), the main strands of the Presbyterian Church only brought out their first collections in the 1870s and 1880s. One of these was the Scottish Hymnal, which was later followed by the first Church Hymnary (1898) and its successors. These of course had to find the greater part of their content from churches and countries other than Scotland and made particularly heavy use of English musical material and editors. Early in this period, the distinctive sound of the hymns of Moody and Sankey and others like them were reaching a wide public through such publications as Sacred Songs and Solos and Redemption Songs, popular more in the mission halls than the established churches. But there were other influences. The publication Sacred Harmony of the Church of Scotland compiled for use in St. George’s Edinburgh by its organist R.A. Smith (the composer of the tune ‘Invocation’) contains, as well as hymn and psalm tunes in four parts, doxologies, settings of the Sanctus (‘Holy, holy, holy Lord’), canticles like the Nunc Dimittis, thanksgivings, dismissals and anthems. ‘Anglican’ chant even found a place, and around thirty years ago a survey showed that they were still in use in 27 congregations. Learning from the past Two lessons at least may be derived from this survey. One is that renewal does not take place by accident. Each century has offered examples of deliberate programmes of teaching, be it sang schules, choir movements, new collections of music, or manuals of instruction for singers and precentors. The great resistance in churches towards the learning of new material and the improving of the old may have always been present in some quarters but the church has never given in to it. Both in central provision and in local congregations under the precentors, it was expected that the people of the church do not just sing but work at their singing. A second lesson is that in spite of common assumptions about what music should sound like, coupled often with the belief that what doesn't sound like church music can't be, there has been a fair variety of sounds and styles even in the period since the Reformation - rugged unaccompanied unison psalm tunes, textured psalms ‘in reports’ or harmony, the dialogue between precentor and people as verses were ‘lined out’, elaborate decorated melodies seemingly sung at random (a continuing version of which may be heard in the Western Isles today), the use of popular melodies, the more florid psalm and paraphrase tunes of more recent centuries, chants and canticles, hymns, choirs and organs. These lessons are particularly apt at this period in the history of the church. Since the nineteen fifties the church has been assaulted by a variety of sounds and a plethora of hymn and song collections, greeted with excitement by many, but leaving many others uneasy and bewildered. The reasons have been as much to do with new insights into the nature and mission of the church as with music, when new hymns have been demanded to match the hour with new tunes which 'key in' to the culture in which the Gospel addresses today. However, developments in technology and in the communications media have also meant that a great variety of music is now delivered into our homes, ‘classical’, music from the charts, ‘easy listening’ etc, all on ‘equal terms’ - and this has overflowed into our churches, calling for careful discrimination and the ‘testing of the spirits’. Other changes and developments have invited us back to enjoy older styles, in settings of traditional liturgical texts (like Holy, holy, holy at Communion) and prayer chants (like O Lord hear our prayer from Taizé), and in the growth of hymns and psalms which restore 'antiphonal' styles to singing, where choir or soloist/cantor sing the verse and the congregation respond. This more dynamic style is found also in songs from the world church which have taught us how to make complex-sounding harmonies by simple means. In gratefully receiving these songs, we are also seeking something of the often very different (and sometimes disturbing) experience of being a Christian in other cultures. In addition, the spread of instrumental playing (assisted by the schools) has brought into being groups of instrumentalists who have offered themselves for the accompaniment of the church's worship, using traditional instruments or those which have developed with the advance of technology. Members of congregations describe such changes in different ways. Some may only see decline - in dwindling and ageing choirs for example; others see new skills and enthusiasm of a different sort being offered to the church. Some lament the loss of loved hymns; others appreciate language and content which welcome a wider range of people into the worship and life of the church. Neither interpretation is complete without the other. The ‘tradition’, if it is listened to sensitively, has within it power for renewal and should not be dismissed. Those who welcome change, on the other hand, are acknowledging that more of the church's history is to come than that which is past. How will we best be the church of the future - indeed, who will we be? And will we worship with all the gifts we are collectively given, or only with what is left of our fading fires. 2 Teaching a congregation to sing well The voice of the people is the supreme instrument in worship; there is nothing better. That has been the tradition of the Reformed church in Scotland and it stands on firm biblical footing. While undoubtedly there is a place in worship for the kind of music performed to the highest possible standard of perfection by expert instrumentalists, the human voice is of even greater importance. Human speech and song came first - the original divine gift. ‘Man-made’ instruments came later. Unfortunately, the primary place that the voice and singing ought to occupy in worship is frequently ignored. The crucial and essential rôle of congregational song must be recovered and safeguarded. The congregation that would not sing During the last century, there was the celebrated case of a prestigious congregation being reprimanded by Presbytery over this very issue. Having invested so much enthusiasm in ensuring a high standard of excellence of choral singing, and having devoted so much energy to ensure the very best standard of organ playing, it was discovered that the congregation regularly remained dumb during the service: they did not sing! So “professional” was the music in that church that ordinary worshippers came to believe that their own voices were inadequate; so disabled were they by the expert musicians that eventually the stage was reached where the congregation could not take part in the worship. There are parallels in this for us today. The simple fact is that the vast majority of church musicians (about 95% according to a survey carried out by the Panel on Worship) have never been taught how to teach the congregation to sing - an art quite different from playing the organ. This is not the fault of the musicians themselves. The real reason lies in the fact that since the end of the last century the church in general has failed to recognise that the means and method of introducing new words and new music needs to be very carefully approached. Expecting a congregation to sing a tune they have never heard before without it first having been properly taught simply leads to reluctance, frustration and irritation on the part of members. Congregation and choir One of the key points to bear in mind when teaching a congregation to sing is the self-evident fact that a congregation is not a choir! It follows that the way in which a congregation is taught must differ from the way in which a choir practice is conducted. Here are some general points that should be kept in mind. 1. The fact that most church members do not read music is not necessarily a drawback; on the contrary, it is a bonus. When a congregation is taught a new tune people learn by ear and remember it. Unlike the choir, members of the congregation are not distracted by continually having to refer to the written music in order to check that the right notes are being sung. Unlike the choir, their concern is solely with the words, if they have the tune embedded in their memory. 2. Any large group of untrained singers, such as a congregation, has an inbuilt self-correcting mechanism which a choir lacks. Those who do not read music rely totally on their ears when learning a new tune. Individuals are dependent on each other in so far as they listen to those around them to get the notes right. It is by listening to each other that consensus is reached. In contrast, readers of music rely on their eyes; they trust in their own interpretation of what they see written on the page. Therefore choir members are more individualistic, and take longer to reach an agreed consensus about a new tune. Because of this, it often takes longer to correct inaccuracies in the choir’s singing. 3. A choir is prepared for a performance which will be given in the hearing of the congregation. While this is carried out as an offering to God, at the same time it is also intended to inspire and uplift the listeners. It is important, therefore, that the performance is as flawless as possible, and great care will have been taken over technical and interpretative aspects of the music - like balancing the phrases, correcting the breathing, perfecting the diction etc. By contrast, a congregation’s ‘performance’ is God-ward and not for other members. Since the main objective in encouraging good congregational singing is to enable people to enter confidently into the spirit of the song, fussing over nuances of pronunciation and articulation is unnecessary, even alienating. 4. A choir sings in harmony; for the most part a congregation sings in unison. It is important that the material the congregation sings is tuneful, relatively uncomplicated, and has an overall shape and structure that is readily recognisable. It must be presented as a tune rather than an academic or technical exercise. While the conductor may well want the choir to have an appreciation of the rhythmic quality of a tune and a feel for its harmonic integrity, such formal objectives are unnecessary and irrelevant as far as the congregation is concerned. The whole point is to ensure that members of the congregation go to bed with the tune still ringing in their ears! 5. The choir may be interested in the historical details of a piece: whether it is baroque or classical; polyphonic, atonal or contrapuntal; whether the composer was organist at St Paul's or St Giles’. The congregation is unlikely to be interested in this kind of information. Lengthy lectures on historical detail or detailed expositions involving musical jargon are guaranteed to turn people off before you start, as well as boring them to tears! 6. A choir loses pitch; a congregation keeps it. This is a supreme mystery, but it is true! It may be attributable to the fact that within any congregation there are high singers and low singers - those who always sing sharp and those who always sing flat (each cancelling the other out). It may also be that the musically literate feel uncomfortable singing notes that stretch them, so they subconsciously sing lower and flatter. A congregation which is not conscious of having to concern itself with pitch simply soldiers on in blissful ignorance. The result is that the congregation never sings flat. (Incidentally, this means that organists should have no fear of allowing the congregation to sing unaccompanied verses in the middle of a hymn.) Things which help It helps how people sit. This may not seem to be a very important feature, but where people sit in church has a fundamental influence on the nature and quality of the singing. One reason why people do not sing out in churches is simply because they sit so far apart that they feel they are giving a solo performance. And because of this, they are afraid other people will hear them. The antidote is to encourage people to sit together. That way they do not fear they will be heard; they know they will hear others and this knowledge overcomes fear. Of course, there may be resistance. People want to sit in the seats their grandparents sat in. But the church cannot be beholden to architecture or seating plans that militate against the corporate worship of God. For all to sit at the back of the church is to act like the laity of pre-Reformation times. To sit scattered like the twelve tribes of Israel is to say: “It is my personal faith that counts, not my incorporation in the body of Christ". In churches that seat between 300 and 1200, where only 100 people or less come together to worship on a Sunday, good congregational singing will never be heard unless the back pews are cordoned off, the galleries closed, and folk brought together. It helps how people are addressed Teaching the congregation to sing has as much to do with psychology as it has to do with musicianship. If an intense organist harangues a congregation by telling them that they "have to sing better and louder", or announces that "the singing is not good enough", or that "this church's singing has deteriorated", prospective allies turn into enemies. When a minister says from the pulpit: "I know that this is not a good singing congregation", or "It might take us a long time to learn this new tune", he or she immediately debilitates the listeners. And when the leading soprano sneers at the lack of musical prowess within the congregation, she joins the ranks of the disablers. In the same way that two out of every five people confess they "can't sing" because in adolescence someone told them so, a similar or greater proportion of the congregation does not sing well as a direct result of insensitive, discouraging comments by those who lead public worship. Congregations are transformed from being musically indolent to singing heartily, not by warnings, threats or theatrical pleadings, but by simple encouragement. The reason why Methodists are good singers is not because people in that particular denomination have an innate ability to sing well, it is because they believe the rumour: "Methodists sing well!" And they take a certain pride in ensuring that the rumour is proven every time they sing. But in Scotland, there are few congregations that attempt to prove the rumour, "We are a good singing congregation". On the contrary, there are many who live out the belief, "We are not good at singing", and who, every Sunday, stand in the pew and confirm that belief. Musicians need to congratulate the congregation when it sings well - not in a patronising way, nor as a matter of course every time they learn a new tune, nor as a false or insincere formality that has to be gone through just for the sake of it. Be gracious with your thanks, and generous with your appreciation that the congregation has been patient and has responded enthusiastically to the task of learning something new. In that way, folk will begin to believe that they are able to sing well. Unaccompanied singing One of the most curious phenomena of the Church of Scotland is the singing of the General Assembly: a company, predominantly male, whose members are certainly not chosen for their musical abilities. Yet each year, the singing of metrical psalms stirs the hearts of all commissioners. Apart from the expectation that commissioners bring to their song in the Assembly (they anticipate that the singing will sound good), another important factor influencing the quality of sound is that they sing unaccompanied. More than anything else, the absence of organ, piano or any other instrument of accompaniment increases confidence in congregational singing. As long as the organ is playing the congregation has a crutch on which it can lean. But, as in the Assembly when there is no accompaniment, the congregation knows that it is human voices alone which will make a hymn come alive. Despite this, or perhaps in ignorance of it, congregations long for the organ to play louder, or for the not-so-good organist to be replaced, so that hymns might be sung with more gusto. There are many instances where a guild, a fellowship or a congregation's musical ability is held to ransom by the inadequacy of the pianist or the stubbornness of the organist who has never sung a verse, and therefore doesn't know whether he or she is playing too fast or too slow. This is not to disparage accompaniment. But if congregational singing is to be improved, then the congregation must be allowed to develop a sense of the worth of its own voice. In the last few years, this has been testified to over and over again, particularly in rural parishes, where in the absence of an organist the minister or another person has been forced to lead the singing because no accompanist is available. As a result, the dramatic improvement in the quality of the singing has astonished everyone. But we should not wait until dire exigencies necessitate voices singing a capella. For the earlier psalm tunes accompaniment was not expected: they were intended for voices alone. When accompanying hymns, what better way to bring a sense of special significance or intensity to the words than for the organ to be silent for a verse and let the harmony be provided by the choir. It is an interesting fact that although the practice of unaccompanied singing seems to have been universally encouraged by Scottish organ tutors of a past era, some of their protégés have never tried it..... in case it doesn't work! It is only when the organist begins to trust the voice of the people that she or he will discover the possibility of real partnership with the congregation. The development of trust and affirmation between them are essential to good singing. Variety in singing Many people remember from their childhood days the music teacher who insisted that the boys should sing verse one, the girls verse two, and so on. Yet when we become adults, we put away not just childish, but child-like things. However, that particular childhood practice is worth preserving for the simple but ironic reason that the less people sing, they more they participate. Of course, this can be taken to extremes and defeat the purpose. But attention is seldom given to the fact that in addition to devotional intent, singing a hymn requires both physical and mental effort on the part of the singer. Our lungs and mouths are involved in producing the sounds. If it is a glorious song of praise with long lines, or if the tempo is fast, we may find ourselves short of breath. Our minds are involved too. While the meaning of some hymn texts are direct and simple, others make weighty statements or carry complex arguments that may often be missed during the singing because the singers’ attention is directed towards the sheer physical effort required to get the words out and the tune right. The experience of singing a hymn can be enhanced by the choice of accompanying sounds on the organ, by whatever other instruments may be to hand, by whether the verses are sung in harmony or unison, by changing the accompanying harmony in a unison verse, or by varying the singers. St Paul reminds us we are the body of Christ, and that every part of the body has its own function as well as being part of the whole. We can and should express this in our congregational singing. It is a practice Bach employed, when he wrote his church cantatas where soloists, choirs and congregation were used to sing different verses and chorales. Within our congregations, in a much simpler way, it should be possible for female voices to sing one verse and male voices to sing another. The children might be given a verse on their own, or - as a relief from unison singing - the choir might sing a verse in harmony either with or without accompaniment. Drawing on the folk singing tradition, another possibility is for one person to sing a verse or verses while everyone else sings the chorus. This is particularly effective with some of the more contemporary songs. In such instances, because the hymn is the congregation's song and not the choir's anthem, those who take solo verses need not stand at the front but can sing from within or behind the congregation. Here are two obvious examples. In the hymn "I heard the voice of Jesus say....." each verse clearly divides into two parts. The first four lines of each voice allude to the voice of Jesus; the second four represent the voice of the listener. It is logical, therefore, for a solo voice to take the first four lines of each verse, and for the whole congregation to sing the second four. The song "Do not be afraid....." (No 24 in Songs of God's People), is a paraphrase of a passage in Isaiah. It has a simple chorus. However, the rhythm of the tune for each verse needs to be changed to suit the words of each verse. One person (or different people) can sing the verses, and in response the congregation can sing the chorus which affirms God's promises. Six maxims Here are six simple pieces of advice that will help when teaching a new song. 1. Don't use the organ, piano or any other instrument. People need to hear the tune clearly - the melody line alone - not a progression of confusing chords played on piano or organ or strummed on guitar. Nor should they first need to listen to the choir singing the song over in harmony. The congregation needs to hear one single, clear voice singing what each of their single voices is to copy. This is much simpler, clearer and more satisfactory than the organist playing over the tune as the opening voluntary or asking the choir to sing it as an introit on three consecutive Sundays. If we need an organ to teach the tune, it is not a tune to be sung! If we are to teach it, we have to meet people face to faces, voice to voices. 2. Believe in your own voice, and believe in other people's voices and their ability to learn. God did not bestow each of us with a coloratura or basso profundo register. He gave us the voice we have, and whether it sounds like Pavarotti or a sick corncrake we won't get another. As an instrument for teaching others, the voice is perfectly adequate. We should not confuse performing before an audience with teaching a simple tune. Married to our belief in our own voice has to be our faith or trust in the congregation. We should not view them as a group of musical inarticulates, an assembly of reactionaries or a group of naughty children. Rather we should regard them as people, each of whom has a facility to learn. When we teach a new tune we are not introducing people to something that is incompatible with their abilities; we are tapping into what already exists. 3. Teach at the teaching time and not at the worshipping time. Learning and praising are two distinct activities, the one educational and the other devotional. We would never think of grooming our hair at the breakfast table because we separate eating from self-titillation without any difficulty. The same should be true of teaching and worshipping. Many congregations have developed a resistance to learning new material because they are suddenly confronted by an "educator" the moment after the minister has finished the prayer of confession. The time to teach is before worship ever begins, before the voluntary is played, before the Bible is taken into the pulpit. The appropriate time to introduce new music is when people are settling down, before all this happens, so that when the time comes to sing during the service the music is already legitimised as a familiar song and not strange new material. 4. Teach the tune first, without words, singing line by line using the voice and hands. It is no use expecting a congregation to follow a hymn in the book and listen to your voice at the same time. Ask them to look at you. Once they become familiar with the tune, the words will present no difficulty. To do both at the same time is like asking people to repeat the five times table and read the newspaper at the same time. The tune should be taught in short phrases. The teacher sings each phrase once and then listens to make sure the congregation has copied the notes correctly. After these phrases have been securely grasped, the whole tune should be sung to "la". Thereafter a verse may be sung using the words. Hands can be used as well as the voice. People remember visual signals better than aural ones. By moving your hands up and down, according to the pitch of the notes, you can direct people's voices. When modulators were used in classrooms, children learned not so much from the precision of whether the pointer was at re or lah but whether it was nearer the top of the modulator or at the bottom. However, if the tune is a fairly simple one, this process can be short-circuited. The leader can sing the entire tune to "la". He/she can then sing the words of verse 1 while the congregation hums the tune. 5. Teach only what you know: if you can't sing the tune without reference to notes, then don't teach it. If the teacher has been too lazy to learn the melody, and has to rely on the line of music, this will discourage the congregation. Learning the tune is part of the teacher's preparation. What is inside will come out and infect others. What is not inside can never be communicated. 6. Don't scunner people by trying to do too much at one time and by constantly repeating the same process. For most congregational rehearsals, two new tunes should be the maximum, and both should be taught within the space of three minutes. If the practice goes on for longer, or if it includes too much material, people will certainly loose interest. Folk are also bored by the "hymn of the month" syndrome, where the same hymn is repeated for four Sundays. If the hymns in our worship are to be meaningful and relevant to the theme of the service, then it is extremely unlikely that the same hymn will be appropriate for four consecutive Sundays. If a new hymn is well taught, then it should be used again by making it integral to the service a few weeks later. This should be sufficient to establish it firmly as part of the congregation's repertoire; it is no longer “new”. Some of these comments and suggestions may appear to be self-evident and simplistic, or even the antithesis of current church practice. The fact is that current practice offers little by way of insight into congregational song. If we look back to the heyday of congregational singing, or refer to the Manual of Worship produced after the 1929 Union, we find that all of these principles are very clearly stated. Teaching a congregation to sing is an art form, completely different from training a choir or accompanying a hymn. Who should do it? One last point needs to be made. Who does the teaching? To stand in front of a congregation of 30 or 300 people undoubtedly takes a degree of courage. Not everyone might feel they can do this. There should be no automatic assumption that it is the job of either the minister or the organist to teach new tunes. Certainly no pressure should be brought to bear on the organist who feels he/she has neither the confidence nor the ability to extend the congregation’s repertoire in this way. Perhaps there is someone in the choir who would be better suited to this task, or even a member of the congregation who would be comfortable in taking on this responsibility. At a time when so much consideration is being given to the sharing of responsibilities in enabling the worship of the congregation, teaching new words and music can provide an excellent opportunity to enlist the skills and abilities of those who previously considered themselves to have no particular gift. It is inconceivable that there is not at least one individual (or, most likely, several individuals) in your congregation who is able to help God’s people to respond to the words of the Psalmist who articulated the eleventh commandment: “Sing a new song to the Lord.” 3 ‘To every cow its calf...’ (copyright law and the Church) Why has copyright become such an issue lately? 1 This is no as new an issue as we may think. The quotation of the title continues ‘ .. to every book its copy’ and is attributed to the adjudication of the king in a copyright dispute involving St. Columba. One is that for a long time we have been accustomed all to 'sing out of the same hymn book' but since the 'hymn explosion' in the nineteen fifties and sixties there has been a flood of new material and publications. A congregation cannot usually afford to equip its members with more than one title from the plethora of collections and supplements, yet - through the media, conferences, and as a result of visiting other churches - we often hear songs from other sources and want to sing them too. Again, the spread of the photocopier has made it easy to make multiple copies from an original. Finally, new copyright laws have came into existence as recently as 1988, and these were revised in 1995. The whole picture has changed. It all sounds so complicated: do we need to bother? We feel well-loved hymns and songs 'belong to us'; they say exactly what we want to say ourselves; what's more, they are part of worship - an activity which is surely meant to transcend material things. Why should it be so often illegal to photocopy words or music for a service sheet or local congregational hymn book supplement or an overhead projector (even when we type or write the words ourselves and copy the music by hand), or record a wedding service, or put on someone's rock musical - without applying for permission and perhaps paying a fee? 'How can it be wrong when it seems so right?' One reason concerns the writers, adapters, translators, arrangers and publishers of hymn words and music, who are protected by law just as are inventors, manufacturers, retailers and house owners. Today there are more people than we may realise who serve Church and Gospel through a full-time or a substantial part-time music ministry. They try to make their living, or part of it, from doing this. Invariably, the best writers and composers are the ones who have been able to set aside time for trying things out, for study and reflection, for working freelance with congregations, conferences, workshops - finding out what people want to sing or can sing. How do I know which songs are covered? The law's protection covers any work, or that part of it, of which the author, composer, adapter, translator or arranger is still alive, or was still living within the last 70 years. (This applies within the European Community, but other countries will have corresponding laws). Permission must always be sought also if there is any intention to alter words or music in any way. Older words and music (i.e. from over 70 years ago and thus in the 'public domain') may also be protected if a new arrangement has been made (e.g. of a Scottish traditional melody). Permission is also needed from a publisher in the case of older works when an actual page layout is being photocopied directly from a book published within the last 25 years. How do I go about getting permission? Except where your church holds a Christian Copyright Licence (see below), you should write to the copyright holder in advance stating the purpose, the form the copy will take (e.g. service sheet for Sunday, or a wedding, or for choir and organist), and the number of copies you wish to make. Finding the right address is not difficult. Older hymn and song books have an 'Acknowledgements' page where copyright holders are listed, but most modern books place this information on the same page as the item in question. The Scottish ecumenical hymn book Common Ground (out February 1998) follows this practice, and gives details of the holders or administrators of the copyright, as well as author and composer, under each song. All addresses and phone numbers are in a single index at the end. It is to them that one writes, not to the publisher of the book. The process is becoming increasingly streamlined and easy to apply now that a few larger companies have been given the right by the many individuals and publishers to administer their work. These companies are geared up to respond quickly and efficiently to requests and queries. Christian Copyright Licensing Ltd. (CCL) If you fairly frequently wish to reproduce copyright material, it would certainly save time, if not money, to take out an annual CCL licence. CCL represents a large number of publishers of hymns and worship songs, from 'hard back hymn books' to collections of new material. The cost of a licence is based on the size of the congregation at a church's main service rather than on the numbers on its communicants’ role (e.g. at time of going to press, up to 49 people £48 p.a., up to 99 £72, up to 99 £132, up to 249 £216 etc.). The licence enables reproduction (not direct photocopying) in service sheets etc., local hymn/song books, on overhead projectors in church or Sunday School, and on white/blackboards and flip charts. A combined licence enables the reproduction of music as well as words. However the CLC Licence does not cover all copyright holders, such as Wild Goose/Iona Community, the Panel on Worship, and the World Council of Churches. It is advisable to check the of the material you are likely to want to reproduce before investing in a licence. CCL has a website from which further information may be had, including a list of copyright holders covered: www.ccli.co.uk leaflets are also available from the Office for Worship: swilson@cofscotland.org.uk Wild Goose songs A few writers and composers choose not to apply the letter of the law to themselves. An example is the Wild Goose Resource Group whose policy for those songs of which they themselves are the copyright holders is to include published permission on their title pages so that congregations may reproduce words for one-off use in local worship as long as appropriate acknowledgement is made. This permission extends to the recording of services for the housebound of a congregation, or of a wedding service for private use. To reproduce music, however, application must be made and a fee is payable. Where a congregation comes to make frequent use of particular songs, or wishes to reprint them in a local supplement, permission should be sought and a donation made, which will assist the Group's continuing work with congregations, presbyteries and other gatherings. When commercial use is intended permission is sought in the usual way. Do we need permission to sing?! No, not to perform a copyright musical work during a church service. However, you would need permission when the occasion was a concert by the choir, or a musical by the youth group or an organ recital or a social, when music in copyright was being performed - even when no admittance charge is made, prayers are said at beginning and end, and the proceeds sent to charity. For this you need either a single event licence or an annual 'blanket' licence covering the whole church complex from the Performing Rights Society. The cost is based on the expected number of copyright performances (a typical sum being £100-150). Such a licence, though, would not cover very large scale works such as operas, nor does it extend to plays or other literary works. What if we want to make recordings? Some churches make recordings of their Sunday service for those too infirm to attend. Again, a couple may wish a record of their wedding service, for themselves in the future or for relatives who cannot be present. Strictly speaking, permission is once again required when copyright works are included. Formerly arranged through the Mechanical Copyright Protection Society, this facility is now provided through Christian Copyright Licensing and is already covered in the CCL licence. This includes video recording of the event. However, there are many cases where congregations have chosen not to take out a CCL licence (some reasons are given above). It seems that at the moment neither CCL and MCPS offer a category of licence to cover this situation. In the meantime, until the matter is clarified, it is probably safe to say that it is most unlikely that a copyright holder would raise any objection to recording such services, since people will be singing from books which had been purchased (whose price included a copyright fee) or from copies made with permission. And when recorded music is used during a church service? Technically, this requires permission, but in practice the relevant body, Phonographic Performance Ltd., does not require an application to be made. The waiver applies only to commercially recorded music. It is illegal to record without permission a radio or TV programme even for home use unless this is solely for the purpose of watching or listening to it at a more convenient moment. It is therefore not possible to play it in any public context. Final note The above does not exhaust the law, or the possibilities. The few exemptions are not discussed (e.g. when music is lost just before a performance or where an accompanist's page turn is difficult). Nor has there been much reference to the copying or recording of material other than hymns and songs, such as liturgical or biblical texts. Further information on both these matters as well as other copyright issues is given in a helpful handbook published by the Royal School of Church Music: John Hudson UK Copyright Rules and Regulations (price £2.60: address see below). The most comprehensive list of copyright holders and their addresses (although needing updated) is: ed. Bernard Braley The Churches' Copyright Directory (Stainer & Bell: address below). You are welcome to telephone or write to the Church of Scotland's Office for Worship for further information (address below). Addresses Office for Worship, 121 George Street, EDINBURGH EH2 4YN; tel. 0131 225 5722 (ext.333) (fax 0131 220 3113); email: swilson@cofscotland.org.uk Wild Goose Resource Group, Iona Community, 4th floor, The Savoy Centre, 140 Sauchiehall Street; GLASGOW G2 3DH; tel. 0141 332 6343 (Fax 0141 332 1090); email: ionacomm@gla.iona.org.uk Christian Copyright Licensing, P.O. Box 1339, EASTBOURNE BN21 4YF; tel. 01323 417711 (fax 01323 417722); www.ccli.co.uk Performing Right Society Ltd., 3 Rothesay Place, EDINBURGH EH3 7SL; tel. 0131 226 5320 (fax 0131 220 4541). Mechanical Copyright Protection Society Ltd., Elgar House, 41 Streatham High Road, LONDON SW16 1ER; tel. 0181 769 4400 (fax 0181 769 8792). Stainer & Bell Ltd., P.O. Box 110, Victoria House, 23 Gruneisen Road, LONDON N3 1DZ; tel. 0181 343 3303 (fax 0181 343 3024); email: post@stainer.co.uk website: www.stainer.co.uk i Purser, John Scotland’s Music Mainstream/BBC ii Johnson, David Music and Society in Lowland Scotland in the Eighteenth Century Oxford University Press iii Patrick, Millar Four Centuries of Scottish Psalmody Oxford University Press iv Farmer, H.G. A history of music in Scotland (out of print, available libraries) 17