80 – In the book that I have just purchased, I find relevant data on the history of Gregorian chant. Incredible! Quite astounded, I stop along the road going down to the abbey. Since the 4th century, when quite probably the oratory of the martyr Sant’Antimo, had not yet been built, liturgical melodies were already sung. Saint Augustine informs us how Saint Ambrose had composed hymns for the faithful at Milan, roundabout 380. Then, from the 5th-7th century, the repertoire diversifies more or less everywhere. From Visigothic Spain to Gaul, and also in Italy, liturgical repertoires in Latin are invented, to differ not so much in word, as in melody.
It will be Pope Gregory the Great who unites them together, so that henceforth they will be classified by the name ‘Gregorian’. The abbey of Sant’Antimo is practically inexistent at that time. When the abbot Tao arrives in the Starcia valley, towards the end of the 8th century, the Gregorian chant is at its apogee. Charlemagne, our ‘founder’, will partake in spreading the Gregorian chant throughout his empire. In 850, the first musical notation with neumatic writing is invented. In fact, up to this moment, the cantors were accustomed to learn thousands of melodies by heart. Seventy years before the imposing church of Sant’Antimo would be constructed, Guido of Arezzo elaborated a method of musical notation, and sees to its diffusion. The pentagram is thus born, to consist of the notes Ut-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La.
Shortly after the construction of Sant’Antimo IV and its completion, the first polyphonies were ringing out under the vaults of Notre Dame in Paris. That the Gregorian chant is so old, and that it had been brought to such perfection in such a remote epoch, really leaves me quite flabbergasted! And at school they teach us that the Middle Ages were a dark period…
81 – By now, I find myself in front of the church, where I notice a brother walking along slowly with a book in his hand, and a camera hanging around his neck. As I pass by, I hear him softly singing a Gregorian melody. He arouses my curiosity, but I haven’t the courage to approach him and question him. The brother perceives my interest, and having stopped singing, he nods to me to come closer. I throw a rapid glance at his camera, and he asks me, “Do you like taking photos?”
“Well, to say the truth… yes. But only so as to amuse myself. I am only an amateur. And you, besides singing, do you like taking photos?”
He gives me a penetrating glance, as he shakes his head, and says, “I use the photos above all for the work connected to the ‘Edizioni Sant’Antimo’ (Sant’Antimo Editions), with which I occupy myself. In the community I am also in charge of the Gregorian chant.”
Gosh! – I think – just the right person from whom to acquire more information on the matter. So I ask, “Could you please tell me something about this old, and also modern type of singing? In fact, I remember that some years ago it was also much in vogue in the discotheques!”
“I prefer not to give a definition of Gregorian chant, because this always proves risky. I would rather like to tell you an interesting little experience I had made when I was studying Gregorian chant at the abbey of Solesmes, in France. This abbey is considered to be a reference point for the world of Gregorian music. As a matter of fact, these Benedictine monks, during the last two centuries brought about its re-birth from where it lay buried under the ashes of the French Revolution. When I chanced to serve the Mass of the choirmaster (who didn’t participate at the con-celebration, because he had to conduct the monks’ choir), I noticed that at certain moments he interrupted the reading of the text, closed his eyes, and immersed himself in silent meditation. One day, after the Mass, I asked him what did he do during these moments of silence. His reply has forever enlightened me, in understanding the Gregorian chant: ‘The Roman Missal proffers only the literary text without music notations, and thus the interpretations are wont to differ. Therefore, while reading the Latin text, I stop in order to recall to memory the music. That which interests me is the Catholic Church’s interpretation of the text, and I believe it to be clearly expressed in the Gregorian melody by which the text is imbued.”
82 – I am forced to recognise that this brother is speaking about an extraordinarily elevated sphere, for the moment inaccessible to me. Above all, that unpleasant Latin…! “But was it not before the Second Vatican Council of 1960, that the Mass was said in Latin?” I ask.
“ Yes, because the rite of Pius V was then in use. After this, the Second Vatican Council actuated a liturgical reform, which drew copiously from the sacred texts of the Old and the New Testaments, in order to restore that primitive aspect which had characterised the religious celebrations at the origins of Christianity. We use this new rite as designated by Paul VI, which prescribes the use of Latin, as the universal language of the Church.”
“But what sense can there be in using a dead language?”
“You must understand that no paragon can be made between the profound significance conveyed by the Latin language, and a modern language. For example: In the hymn of the Benedictus, found in Lauds, the expression ‘Oriens ex alto’ is translated with ‘like a dawning on high’. The Latin word does not refer to the sun, but to ‘Oriens’ (‘orient’ – he who rises). By the use of only a single word, various concepts are expressed in Latin. So too, it brings us to understand for example, how the Mass is celebrated while facing Eastwards, because we turn thus towards Him who comes to save us. The liturgical prayer therefore obliges us to ‘orientate’ also the body. When the term ‘dawning’ is translated, it loses the emphasis contained in the words ‘Oriens ex alto’, because this expression not only refers to rising externally, but also implicates a rising from within. It is something analogous to the light captured, and then released by the alabaster stone in our church, when caught by the sunrays. This is only one example, but I could still furnish many others.”
“You know, on thinking carefully, I recall that while listening to the chant, I had perceived a particular richness and powerfulness in the melody, which at this point, I retain should be ascribed to the sonority of the Latin language.”
“It is just so. The Gregorian chant, right from the beginning, associates itself with this rich sonority. The Latin language has clothed the Gregorian chant since its beginning, reason for which we chose this language for the sung liturgy. Latin is used in our liturgy also as an example of Ecumenism in the Catholic Church. The Church’s universality is very evident at Sant’Antimo, because people come here from all over the world, to listen to the chant. Which language must be chosen in order to receive everyone without distinction between nationality, language or race? Once more the Latin language comes to our aid, because it assembles, and thus unites the whole of mankind in one, just as described in the book of the Apocalypse.
83 – “The chant is not a mere habit or ornament for us. It forms an integral part of our prayer. One prays while singing, and sings while praying. Saint Augustine declares that he who sings, prays twice over (Enarratio in Psalmos 72, 1). We consider the Gregorian chant to be an immense treasure, on account of its capacity to draw the soul unto an authentic contemplation of Christ. For this reason we chose to preserve it. The chant creates a resonant musical background to Sacred Scripture, just as the capital of Daniel in the lion’s den is a figurative commentary to the word of God. It is as if the melodies which accompany the Eucharist and the liturgical hours- sung from three to four hours daily, 365 days in a year – reveal the silent pulsation of the heart of Jesus.”
I remain ever more amazed. His explanations open up another world to me. “I begin to understand. A receptive attitude is necessary in order to enter into your liturgy. I imagined that some knowledge of the music technique would suffice to chant the melody. Instead I now come to realise how chanting does not consist so much in doing or in saying, but that it is something essentially more refined and profound. It’s a preparation that opens up the soul to receive – the capacity to listen to, and to receive the sound, the word, the chant – because God’s Voice speaks through the melody. The reality of the spirit has no need of instruments, but of a voice that sings with an attentive ear. But I want to ask a question - don’t you ever make mistakes, or sing some wrong note?”
The brother cantor smiles a bit, and replies, “And quite frequently. You know none of us came here to be a singer. First and foremost, we are here for God, and then we engage ourselves in singing according to our capability. Some of us are more gifted, and others less gifted. It is the heart’s attitude, that is important, and not the aesthetic perfection. Saint Augustine well knew that singing is a characteristic of love.”
“I see that an enormous heritage is attached to your prayer. But do you also transmit it to others? Do you give lessons on Gregorian chant?”
“For some years now, we organise singing lessons – formally named “Vox Christi”. These lessons are in relation to the Liturgy, but we don’t concentrate exclusively on Gregorian chant. If you want more information, I suggest you visit our web site.” All these explanations leave me quite speechless. They are certainly more than I ever expected. The brother then greets me, as I stand quite dumbfounded at the entrance of the abbey.
