Russian Inok


	№22 (185) June, 2004 RUSSIAN LITURGICAL CHORAL AESTHETICS: ITS PAST IN TRADITION AND PRESENT IN RUINS Olga Dolskaya (Continued from "Russian Inok", May 2004) Chapter 5 (Conclusion) The Moscow Synodal School Chesnokov was known as the "conductor-magician" able to play on the voices as on an instrument. In his conducting what predominated was "a smoothness of gestures" gracefully leading each individual voice to produce "a straightforward harmonious sound" typical of what Russian choirs used to aspire to prior to the revolution, where voices did not stand out, where a musical line was to prevail as part of the entire orchestration of many musical lines. Smoothness in performance requires the observance of two conditions: 1) very careful transition from one sound to another, pouring one sound into the next, the fear of even slightly pushing the sound; 2) carefully singing only the vowels, concealing the consonances, fearing to even slightly push the syllable. If the conductor at the same time would ensure that his gestures would not consist of angular movements, but of mostly malleable and, most important, round ones, then the smoothness will be guaranteed. Along with the production of a full, expansive smoothness, one thus also reaches the appropriate character of a work written in a slow tempo.294 Chesnokov links it to "chain-like breathing" where singers enter in close interaction with each other to create a continuous sound, yet another very unique Russian trait that has been lost today. Chesnokov devised a very colorful palette of sound and believed in promoting the melody (not the voice part), unnoticeably, as a part of the entire whole. He saw first sopranos as "light and crystal clear," and relied on the second sopranos for density of the inner sound. In, My Soul doth Magnify the Lord for soprano solo, for instance, the soprano must be light (which eliminates the sopranos in the recent recordings of this work), with the choir enhancing the soloist, with a well-rounded, full sound. He wrote it for Nezhdanova's clear, gentle voice, who "flew literally as a lark into the heights, backed by the lush sound of the choir… The choir must sing lightly, freely, not suppressing or stifling the singer."295 Chesnokov preferred altos to be full and rich,296 tenors with a good high register as they are important carriers of the melody, and as to the basses, he considered them as the main voice that carries the entire weight of the choir.297 The choir he conducted from 1902-1913 at the Church of the Holy Trinity "na Griaziakh," consisted (in 1904) of ten women sopranos, seven women altos, twelve tenors and thirteen basses.298 His knowledge of voices led to compositions in which there was no need for additional nuances. There was a highly calculated range of sonorities and timbres that were built into the score, making excessive nuances superfluous. The tempo indications in Chesnokov's compositions were marked in Russian, and included words that were unique to Russian tradition such as "fluid, grand, exultant." In fact, he was one of the few composers able to capture and transmit to the parishioners that majestic singing, so inherently built into his music.299 Unfortunately, choirs today are unable to perceive or convey that "majesty" and thus his works are misunderstood and sung with a ruggedness and coarseness the composer never intended. Choir directors and singers have hopefully noticed by now that the style of singing associated with roaring and roughness, in recent decades erroneously perceived as "Russian," is false. It is the present author's hope that all will read the above recommendations by Pavel Chesnokov very carefully. Direct contact with singers with respect to the conductor's most intricate gestures was of primary importance to Chesnokov. If such a contact does not exist, then there is no conductor.300 He adds: It is now imperative for conductors to forget that if something goes wrong, it is the fault of the singers. If it were so, then the leader of the performance would be the choir, not the conductor. The precise role of the conductor is that he can give the choir any direction, lead it into any emotion. Self-analysis, self-criticism will be productive only when the conductor will put the blame not on the choir but on his own poorly-developed conducting technique… It requires only one time for the conductor to be convinced that he can successfully find that contact, and then the process of development of technique, together with unremitting work on self, will advance faster. In due time the ability to concentrate, to dispose oneself, find that necessary contact will come… Any pause in the process of work on one's self will immediately decrease the technique of the conductor.301 This is so important for us to keep in mind, especially since choir directors today often resort to forceful means of communication with their choir. Once and for all, he says, it is time to take the initiative in training the singers, from breathing techniques to a very critical look at one's own conducting techniques, then unite to aspire to reach that ideal sound. Finally the foremost key to dealing with gestures [and thus the choir's delivery of sound], is: It is critical to be extremely stingy in gestures, or else their supply will be prematurely spent. Therefore it is imperative to make use of a slight hardening of the wrist, and not go beyond the level of the waist.302 The singing of the Canon in the early church had a very special place in the service, and, as opposed to today, all the Troparia were sung along with the Eirmosi: Prior to the beginning of the Canon, the majestic cathedral of St. Sophia in Constantinople began to flood with people. It was not unusual for the Byzantine emperors to come to the cathedral at that time, surrounded by their court. The clergy not involved in performing the service usually gathered near the patriarchal area. All parishioners, with unconcealed impatience, were awaiting the beginning of the Canon, with their eyes fixed upon the canonarch, leader of the choir. Suddenly the canonarch gave the sign to the choir and the singing of the Canon began. The entire church - nothing but devotion and profound prayerful concentration. Stichera, verses and responses followed one after the other, accompanied by mellifluous melodies which were pleasant to the ear. The voices of the singers disperse below the tall arches of St. Sophia. The harmonious sounds of the eirmosi and troparia flow into the soul of the worshipper, reaching to elevate his heart and mind by the ennobled thoughts of the poet/composer… As in Byzantium, in Old Rus too, clergy and worshippers gathered with particular love and spiritual fervor to listen to the Canon, bringing away from listening to it religious edification and mental enlightenment… Similar to a historian who digs into dead archival manuscripts and restores, by way of historical imagination, an astonishingly lively picture of the distant past… the religious composer can by way of musical imagination resurrect in contemporary harmonic musical language, the spiritual-musical fervor our ancestors experienced many centuries ago, when they listened with such reverence to the songs of the Canon.308 In light of the above, striking is the contrast under the yoke of communism: The church dug out of the earth was in the apartment of Archimandrite Arsenius. The entrance was a trap-door, covered by a carpet. The top was taken off, and under it was a ladder to the cellar. In one corner of the cellar there was an opening in the earth, which was covered with rocks. The rocks were moved aside and, bending down completely, one had to crawl three steps forward, and there was the entrance to the tiny church. There were many icons, and lamps were burning. Metropolitan Joseph was very tall, and nonetheless twice in my presence he traveled here secretly and penetrated to this church.309 True-Orthodox Christians, usually refuse to participate in elections (which in the Soviet Union, a country deprived of freedom, are simply a comedy), and other public functions; they do not accept pensions, do not allow their children to go to school beyond the fourth class…" Here is an unexpected Soviet testimony of the truth, to which nothing need be added… The Soviet rulers fall into a rage over the fact that there exist people who fear God more than men. They are powerless before the millions of True Orthodox Christians.310 The matter of Chesnokov's solo works with chorus is much too complex; it would be premature at this time to consider it, as we have not cultivated the proper type of solo voices for the church. In the case of women sopranos, here is an opportunity for a "worthy artist" of the USSR from the nearby opera house, to flaunt her voice. Suffice it to say that the wrong type of voice can ruin not only Chesnokov's name, but send this entire repertoire outside of the church, into the concert hall, where it is now being bellowed at unbelievable volume and with lots of superfluous mannerisms which make the most musical members of the audience shriek with horror at the sight of yet "another one" of those solo Chesnokov works on the program! How skillfully deceptive is post-1917 scholarship about Chesnokov. In prefaces to his secular choral works which he was forced to compose, there is not a mention of his Orthodox background, nor of any of his compositions for the church - his true contribution.328 In his letters to Alfred Swan we get a glimpse at how desolate life had become for composers like Chesnokov in Soviet Russia, a citation that explains the ravaged state in which we find our church music today. In inquiring about the possibility of publishing his book, The Choir and its Conducting in the West, he notes: …write to me, tell me about the book, and, in general, keep in touch with me. I am so alone… At the present, we do not have a single choir that might be called exemplary. The classics, ours as well as Western ones, are not being performed. We are subsisting on contemporary trash and a repertory of "whatever you wish." There are no "a capella" choirs at all. And this in the heart of Russia - in Moscow! And yet it is not so long ago that our Synodal Choir amazed Vienna with its "a capella" singing. In yet another letter, a devastating statement of the effect communist enslavement had on musicians: …On the first of September of this year, quietly, at home, I…drank a shot of vodka on the occasion of the fortieth anniversary of my activity as a conductor, composer, and teacher… I submitted to Muzgiz eight Russian folk songs…. they promise to include it in the publishing plan for 1936… I am glad it is in the 1936 plan and not the one for 1946, since I will not live that long…329 It is impossible for us outside of Russia to fathom today how crushing it was for someone like Chesnokov to severe all ties to Orthodoxy and its singing, to consciously avoid all mention of anything remotely religious in a book that is precisely about spiritual, sacred, Orthodox Russian a cappella singing, that which had been world-renown thanks to the monumental efforts of Stepan Smolensky, to whom Chesnokov's treatise is dedicated. How ignorant and careless we are today in thinking that people simply bent to the will of the Soviet authorities and complied, "joining" in the "new world order of things." And how insensitive of us not to lay open and tell the world about the suffering that accompanied such sacrifices as Chesnokov's continuous struggle with the authorities. To these authorities, anything or anyone who had a Russian and especially sacred Orthodox profile, was an "enemy of the people," to be destroyed by force. How poignant Chesnokov's message in Part II of his book, where, as an example for rehearsing text, he chose Pushkin's verse about man's control over another and about tyranny through violence.330 Let us take a moment to remember the millions who silently perished trying to uphold Holy Russia's identity: The date was February 18, 1932 (n.s.). It is a radiant and yet a terrible date, the Passion Friday of Russian monasticism - ignored by all and almost unknown to the whole world - when all of Russian monasticism in a single night disappeared into the concentration camps. It was all done in the dead of night and with the full knowledge of Metropolitan Alexis - about which there is sufficient evidence… Soon after this "Holy Night," the freedom-loving United States of America was to recognize the Soviet tyranny as a lawful government. And all the while, the puppet-bishops of Sergianism [Moscow Patriarchate] declared throughout the whole world that Christians in Russia were free.331 The West's support of the Russian Revolution is now a well-known fact. Lenin greatly approved of such writings as the pamphlet of newspaper articles collected by Walter Lippman and published in The New Republic, August 4, 1920: Interestingly, I saw in an American publication yesterday that some people had collected in a small publication full of information on what the best American papers were writing about Russia. You cannot conceive better propaganda[!] for the Bolsheviks… we will try to publish it in Russian.332 The following letter indicates that Lenin was also very much in contact with his "foreign friends" and that he was financing communist electoral activities in England in support of the Labour Party: Comrade Radek!… In England, in my opinion, there is a decisive battle - elections [emphasis here is Lenin's]. In my view, one should as quickly as possible turn back all Englishmen who are en route to here. Arrange it so: twelve hours in Russia and fly back. It is inanely stupid to stay here even one extra hour when elections are under way there. During those twelve hours agree on tactics: 1) for the Labour Party; 2) full freedom of agitation; 3) full freedom of speech (the candidate is a super-scoundrel; for this reason I am for him; the masses will learn); 4) leaflets for the masses in such a spirit - brief, merry, very cheap; 5) how much will our help cost? 6) mobilize all members of our party: go from house to house, all day on the streets, etc… Please send me all the arriving Englishmen. Call. Yours, Lenin.333 The above also evidences Lenin's sole control over everything, to the utmost detail, quite the opposite of his propagated myth to have given "workers an equal chance to make decisions." And finally: The aim of the Soviet authority was and is not at all the subjection of the Church to itself, and not even her enslavement, but rather her total and definitive annihilation. Militant atheism is the State doctrine of the USSR. The subjection, the enslavement of the Church are only intermediate moments, steps toward her total annihilation.334 Viktor Sergeyevich Kalinnikov (1870-1927), brother of the famous symphonist Vasilii Kalinnikov, was one of the most gifted composers of church music at the Synodal School. He completed the Moscow Philharmonic School in 1896 and taught theory, composition, and oboe at the Synodal School. In 1922 he joined the faculty of the Moscow Conservatory. His works are aesthetically full of inspiration, with a rich palette of choral sonorities, a keen sense of compositional design and sensitivity to timbre in relation to text. His part-writing is imbued with characteristics from chant and is very Russian in character. Aleksandr Vasilievich Nikolsky (1874-1943) was educated at the Moscow Synodal School as well as the Moscow Conservatory. He was the son of a priest who served in the Penza Cathedral, which was renowned for its Pontifical choir directed by Alexei Vasilievich Kastorskii; thus cathedral singing had an impact on young Nikolsky and the wide harmonies and majesty of Pontifical services remained an important influence in his works. He also studied with Taneyev, taught fugue and counterpoint at the Moscow Synodal School and, from 1928, at the Moscow Conservatory. As a writer and a critic, he was the author of numerous articles on choral music and teaching. Nikolsky's style is based on Kastalsky, but with a highly original and innovative use of harmony and texture. He incorporated inherently Russian polyphonic features, and non-functional harmony for coloristic purposes. About forty percent of more than 150 of his works are based on chant, mostly Kievan, Greek, common chant, and some znamenny. His music, in general, is permeated with a znamenny chant-like style. He treats the choir as a choral orchestra, with numerous combinations of timbres and sonorities to better illustrate the text. Nikolsky became active in conferences for choral directors,338 had a delicate and diplomatic personality and was very devoted to the future of Russian church music. He was known as a perceptive music critic who contributed to many journals, and an inspirational speaker and writer for national church music gatherings and conferences. Aleksandr Tikhonovich Grechaninov (1864-1956) studied at the Moscow and St. Petersburg Conservatories and is well-known for his secular, as well as church, music. After the revolution he emigrated to Paris, then New York, but wrote most of his sacred works in Russia. Although not directly associated with the Synodal School, he composed in the Moscow tradition both chant-based and free compositions, using inherently Russian harmonization techniques combined with the fullness of a Tchaikovskian homophonic texture. His Liturgy, op. 13, written in 1897 is not chant-based and for a smaller choir than the Liturgy, op. 29, composed in 1902, which is quasi-chant like, with the presence of the demestvenny chant in "It is Truly Meet" written for a large choir. It contains the alto solo reading of the Creed text with choral background, which was premiered at a concert in Moscow by the famous Vasiliev Choir. Grechaninov also composed many separate works, especially for the Holy Week as well as an All-Night Vigil. His compositions are well designed musically, with a concert-like splendor, brilliance of color, large-scale thematic development. The soloistic element in some works can be too conspicuous, without enough concern for the Liturgy. His experimental tendencies led him to violate Orthodox tradition by including instruments in the 1917 Liturgiia Domestica (not associated with the demestvenny op. 79 for tenor, bass, chorus, string orchestra, organ and harp). It was performed abroad in 1926 and is obviously a secular work adapted to religious text, non-liturgical, and for the concert stage only. In 1943, he wrote the Liturgy op. 177, no. 4, for mixed choir which was published in 1950 as the Novy Obikod. His choral writing is effective, with clear projection of text and well designed musical form and structure. Grechaninov wrote for large choirs, the kind that existed in our Russian cathedrals. In them the grandeur and intensity of Orthodoxy are reflected and, across the multi voiced splendid attire, one can hear the old znamenny chant melody, the vigorous singing of the great patriarchal and princely choirs… one remembers our ancient cathedrals in Moscow, Rostov, Yaroslavl and the Novgorodian Sophia with their magnificent bell-ringing.339 Sergei Vasilievich Rachmaninov (1873-1943), a student of Arensky and Taneyev at the Moscow Conservatory and one of the greatest Russian composers, known especially for his piano music and art songs, emigrated to the West in 1917 and needs no introduction. Not as well-known is the fact that he is also the composer of monumental masterpieces for the church, namely the Liturgy, op. 31, of 1910, and Vespers, op. 37, of 1915, representing the crowning achievement of the Synodal School and its Moscow style. The Liturgy is a free composition, with a large-scale, sonorous choral style, extremely well crafted, representing the culmination of the free setting of the Anaphora [Milost mira]. Although a relatively young work in Rachmaninov's life, it is highly original and unique in its epic quality, very Russian in style, and synthesized in a very personal way. It is not chant-based but very chant like, with a consistent presence of Russian lyricism and a masterly use of the choral palette.343 It is meant to be sung in its entirety, due to various key relationships between the individual numbers that give the work unity. The Vespers, mostly based on a variety of chants, elevates the liturgical service to a very high aesthetic level. The composer conceived it as a brilliant polyphonic, multi-layered texture, with a variety of timbres and colors, yet without the chant getting lost in the process. He took the chant melodies from the Obikhod in square notation and skillfully incorporated them in his texture. Kastalsky wrote about The Vespers: "One should hear what has become of the simple, straightforward chant melodies in the hands of a major artist."344 Morosan adds: "He [Rachmaninov] scales new heights of expressive intensity, such as have been achieved in only a few choral masterpieces in the entire history of music."345 Rachmaninov's works have an austere tone and are meant to be sung in conjunction with a protodeacon who not only has a distinguished bass voice, but one of great eminence, capable of pacing and elevating the entire Service. It is believed by some that Rachmaninov's works do not belong in a church but on a concert stage. It certainly is not intended for the small parish choir but for a Kremlin Cathedral, with a choir as competent as the Synodal Choir who premiered the work. It is difficult to appraise a work that is extracted from its natural milieu. Therefore, to judge The Vespers and The Liturgy by Rachmaninov in a concert hall (or rather by sitting in one's living room listening to its recording), is not quite fair… However, let us note that when numbers from these cycles are competently performed in a church, they startle not only by their aesthetic beauty, but their spiritual might and sobriety.346 Our tragedy this century, is that in Russia cathedrals were forcibly shut down, if not destroyed, and in the West not one church choir was capable of performing this work. What is terribly out of place is to sing Rachmaninov without being aware of the idiosyncrasies of the Russian national musical language. For instance, we often hear O Theotokos and Virgin rejoice! sung metrically and much too fast, without any concept of unhurriedness, sound intensification, or word-oriented pacing. As an example of complete disregard for the Russian sacred national style, one can turn to O Theotokos and Virgin rejoice! (and other excerpts), in a recording entitled Missa Russica, sung by the "Boys of the Holy Synod of Moscow," Victor Popov, dir. Vocal technique in the realm of childrens' choirs is yet to be addressed, along with the highly metric "pioneer" camp-like style of singing so often heard today. In The Liturgy, the Litanies have a very important role, in their aspect of appeal and aesthetic content, in that they serve as a connective device to its most important sections. Therefore, the singers' responsibility is to spiritually prepare the worshipper for each section… They uplift the prayerful disposition and give the service an artistic element of unity and spherical completeness… The singing must not break the attention of those praying from the contents of the thoughts expressed in the petitions of the Litanies.353 I was stunned at the unusually harmonious sound of the choir, intelligent, artistic performance even during practice. The sound of each part of this choral mass was impeccably distributed, with an amazing balance of vocal forces.356 That precision which some refuse to address today, considering it unchurchly, was the main asset of pre-revolutionary church choirs. One does not know which is more admirable, the volume of sound which now and then sinks from a crashing crescendo to a pianissimo, which is like a concord of soft stops on an immense organ, or the precision in which the harmonies are blent.. Those who had the privilege of hearing this choir and that of the Cathedral Choir at Moscow, and those who heard the private soldiers singing in the regiment of the gardes a cheval, not only have heard the final expression of what is characteristic of Russian music, but have been brought face to face with the Russian soul… its faith in the Eternal Love, its certitude in the love and the presence of God and the existence of an invisible world… Two facts struck those of us who had never been to Moscow… Firstly, its beauty; and secondly, the democratic character of the town and of its people… I visited a school founded in memory of the famous critic Belinsky - a school where children of the very poorest class of the population receive education free of charge… Seldom have I seen a school where the children looked so happy.357 These comments, so valuable to us today, speak of Rachmaninov's Russia at the time he was writing for the church. The reverence and attentiveness of the crowds of worshippers was one of many evidences which convinced us that religious observance has a strong hold upon the Russian people as a whole… In religion, amidst the nearly universal conformity, there is, especially in the professional and academic class, an exuberance of crude free-thought. The immediate results are no doubt disquieting: "the less faith, the more fanaticism," as a saintly and cultured layman observed to me in Moscow. In political so in religious matters, the hope of Russia lies neither in the revolutionary overthrow of her ancient heritage nor in the high-handed suppression of new ideas, but in the gradual mutual leavening of the two, the new and the old harmoniously tempering one another.358 Chapter 6 Distinguished Choir Directors of the Moscow Synodal School Aside from Chesnokov, a number of other figures have excelled in the art of choral conducting in Russia prior to the revolution. One was Vasilii Sergeevich Orlov (1856-1907), who was trained as a boy alto in the Synodal Choir. He also played the bassoon and studied at the Moscow Conservatory with Tchaikovsky. Orlov became conductor of the Synodal Choir from 1886. He and Smolensky struggled to make the School part of the higher education institutions which occurred officially after their death in 1910. Orlov was highly professional in his approach to both teaching and singing, no matter where he worked. Prior to his work with the Synodal Choir, he conducted the Mamontov private choir, where he taught amateurs to sing Tchaikovsky's Liturgy. He also conducted the Russian Choral Society and the Moscow University Choir. In 1890, he began a series of public concerts with the Synodal Choir in which he included not only Russian but Western repertoire (Mozart's Requiem). In 1895, his acclaimed cycle of historical concerts resurrected the works of such seventeenth-century composers as Vasilii Titov and Bavykin. When the Synodal Choir performed in St. Petersburg, it was hailed as the best choir in Russia. In 1899, Orlov took the Synodal Choir on a European tour and there it was hailed as the best choir in the world. Orlov cultivated a supple, warm sound in all voices: Basses of the Synodal Choir reminded one partially of the sound of the cellos - with their light and supple tone… From the second basses and octavists Orlov obtained a velvety sound, full and rich, but never rough; octavists doubled the upper bass, and provided a delicate shadow to the line of the main bass, who never stood out to 'astonish the world'.360 One must admit that the delicate sound he is describing is the opposite of what basses emit today. From the tenors, Orlov demanded an ethereal gentleness, not power [tenors, take note]. He constantly spoke of ethereal gentleness, not power or forcing, and he guided the choir to obtain a very high aesthetic level instead of showmanship. A tender, even timid personality, he became collected, energetic, steel-like, and could with one, magnetic, stern, fiery look, and a high degree of concentration draw the singers' full attention.361 He was highly sensitive to detail and had a very concentrated style of conducting. He paid close attention to the form of the entire work, structure of phrases, diction, and worked hard on nuances which he considered to be the transmitters of the text. The last rehearsals prior to a public appearance were carried out on a very high aesthetic level of sacred singing. His teaching career at the Synodal School underwent a number of growth processes. He became the director of the School in 1901 at which time he reacted negatively to Smolensky's long list of musical requirements, and joined some members of the administration in an attempt to give the school a more churchly direction, with less emphasis on technical aspects of music. By 1906, he noticed that the better students - "run from us for knowledge" - trying to satisfy their thirst for knowledge, especially for such demanding vocations as composer and choir director, by running across the street to the Conservatory362 for additional courses which they lacked at the Synodal School.363 Due to a lack of musical development from 1901 to 1906, the Synodal school underwent a period of stagnation and discouragement and it is then that Orlov realized that "in the Synodal school, it is precisely a musician that is needed the most!" He proceeded to reinstate the emphasis on musical education but died shortly afterwards. Must we make the same mistake today? Judging from the tremendous resistance to quality we are experiencing in our churches, unable to even admit that singing requires musicianship, we have a long way to go before we can call what we do in church singing. In trying to understand the struggles with the different approaches taken during the process of establishing excellence at the Synodal School, a thorough reading of Vasilii Metallov's The Synodal School of Church Singing in its Past and Present, Moscow, 1911, is recommended to all clergy, teachers, choir directors, singers, and students. The last sentence of Metallov's monograph is especially mournful for us today: "May we wish the Synodal School prosperity for many years to come!" It is difficult to believe that only a few years later, a choir that had developed such eminence, was so violently forced out of existence. Nikolai Mikhailovich Danilin (1878-1945), was assistant to Orlov and Kastalsky prior to becoming, in 1910, the conductor of the Synodal Choir. He was born to a family of modest income, and studied at the Synodal School and Moscow Philharmonic School. Soon after he took over the Synodal choir it developed a highly nationalistic, Russian colorful style of expression which led to an established national tradition paved by centuries of development. Danilin was acutely sensitive to Russian lyricism, a temperament that included a wide range of nuances and a certain freedom of expression that gave the choir a unique sense of dynamic agility and individuality. In 1911 and 1913, he took the Synodal Choir to Poland, Italy, Austria, and Germany, and was heard and praised by such greats as Toscanini who hailed the choir as the best in Europe.365 Critics added: 'The Moscow choir showed us that we can stop being so self-assured and secure in our western European pride.' 'A miraculous sound.' 'Unique dynamic flexibility.' 'Danilin played the choir so that the listener reacted to his most minute gestures.' 'Sculptural creation of movements by conductor with constantly changing sounds and sonorities.' 'How rich sacred music can be in which an entire culture is represented, it is the truly sacred model for the future.366 The crisp vocal quality of the singers, the instrumental clarity of intonation, the strictest rhythm, different characterization of nuances - those are the resources of the Synodal Choir… Aside from artistic voice leading, vocal doublings that remind us of orchestral effects, the tone of mystical rapture was stunning. Thus prays and sings only that nation, which looks at the world and at life with a childlike clarity of soul… Splendid is the vocal technique of the children… silvery timbre… and their superb art of breath control as well as vigor and magnificence of the bass part.367 In his youth, Danilin was friends with Kastalsky, Kalinnikov, and Rachmaninov, who noted his superb musical temperament and ability to read orchestral scores at the piano. Danilin and Rachmaninov collaborated on the first performance of Rachmaninov's Vespers on March 23, 1915, which was acclaimed for its new refreshing sonorities never heard before, sonorities that united all listeners mesmerized by the singing. The performance was praised for its great dynamic flexibility, clarity, flawless cantabile intonation on a rare high level, and a vocal orchestration with an airy and gracefully etched texture. In The Monthly Musical Record, June 1, 1916, we read: The choir has attained the highest possible perfection in its a cappella singing. Such attack, such dynamic and rhythmical precision, are seldom heard. And above all this, the spirit of the strong and mystic Orthodox Faith pervades the whole; for this church art is governed by religious requirements. Danilin was also an artist with a dramatic flair and a breathless sweep of energy. His emphasis was on precision of rhythm, and a sense of anticipation culminating in sections that gradually grew in intensity rather than immediate impact. Let us delve deeply into the artistic impulses of Danilin, his approach to the form and design of the composition, and the hypnotic effect he had on the choir, coupled with enormous physical and emotional energy. It was especially fascinating to observe in Danilin's performance the birth and development of a true culmination, long before it is initiated in the voice parts of the score… gradually accumulating energy shaped the first dynamic rising wave… Danilin pulled back the sound of the choir… The task of the choir director was to introduce the inner growth of expression, preparing for the new, decisive upsurge… Especially superb was the legato, in which the free hand, with an unusually agile wrist, broad, silky-flexible movements embroidered the musical fabric… leading the firm (focused) hand straightforward and freely from the shoulder, with uninterrupted connective movements of the wrist, Danilin with utmost clarity also expressed the richness of sound with firmness of tension in the fingers, holding and stretching the sound, as if pulled against rubber or an elastic spring. The flexibility and expressiveness of the wrist in legato was striking. Danilin's conducting distinguished itself by steel-like rhythmic precision… repetitions… everything was well thought-out to the utmost detail: what was achieved at the last rehearsal, and where to begin today….368 Danilin stated in his classes: If a conductor is talented… then he will steer the choir with one look, one motion… then his place is behind the podium; if not - then he has to change professions.369 He took great pains to prepare himself for rehearsals, identified what needed to be accomplished, studied the score diligently, phrase by phrase. The entire composition was well thought-out by him prior to each rehearsal, with total inner concentration and veneration of what was to be achieved once he approached the podium. He felt very strongly about the responsibility resting entirely upon himself. At rehearsals, he worked with utmost economy of time: There always reigned an unusually intense creative atmosphere… he did not allow himself, not even for a moment, to modify that condition. As he mounted the podium, Danilin began the 'sacred rite' of conducting and nothing could violate it… little did he use his voice during rehearsals for demonstrations… yet his demonstrations on the piano were striking.370 He demanded that the vocal continuity of sound be conveyed on the piano. Continuity should exist in the finger legato, with a minimum amount of pedaling, by way of quick change of chords with at least one finger retaining a pitch from the previous chord… to raise the hand high prior to each chord, while keeping the sound through pedaling, was considered undesirable. Danilin recommended that scores be played on the piano without the use of the pedal.371 He also believed that the conductor should be able to play the entire score at the piano with all nuances, expressiveness - rhythm being most important. Thanks to its high level of performance, the choir was able to transmit that restraint of emotions, yet "his gift was accomplished through an assertive vigor, tempestuous passions, and fervent emotions."372 The result was: "A crystal-clear sound, infallible precision of intonations, and vocal 'orchestration'."373 He liked the sopranos to be light and blend with the ensemble, the same for the first altos, and for the second altos to be velvety and rich in timbre especially in low chest notes. He did not accept coloratura nor sopranos with a vibrato and was very careful with baritones, whom he considered detrimental to a choir when their sound was not rich enough.374 He liked basses, all three types, to complement each other and never allowed any forcing of voices. He considered basses to be the foundation of it all: "The sound of the bass should predominate."375 Golovanov is known to have admitted that he wished his choir at the "Bolshoi" sang the way the Synodal Choir did. That is how it should be - the sacred must surpass the secular. Feodor Alekseyevich Ivanov's choir, famous throughout the 1880s, consisted of about a hundred men and a hundred boys, often separated to sing in different churches and church-related activities in Moscow. His choir was also called to replace the Synodal Choir when the latter was on tour. Ivan Ivanovich Iukhov's (1870-1942) early years were spent in the metal factory of his grandfather who employed only workers with good voices. As they worked they sang, and the factory became a major tourist spot for Russians and foreigners alike. Iukhov studied at the Synodal School and launched his choir around 1900 with his father, four sisters and some of the workers from the factory. The choir became famous among Moscow churches as well as on the concert stage and made some gramophone recordings early in the century. It also sang with Serge Koussevitsky and after 1917 became the Moscow State Choir. There were many other distinguished choirs across Russia prior to the revolution. "In Rostov-on-the-Don I came across a choir, equipped with superb male voices and good, experienced boy-singers."376 Actually, no church was without a choir and many were very good, even in provincial Russia. In the southern Kuban region, in the main city of Ekaterinodar, for instance, there were summer schools and workshops,377 as well as church choirs directed by women who were becoming quite active in church choral activities even in provincial Russia. In the long list of clergymen brutally murdered by Bolsheviks in the Stavropol Diocese of the Kuban Territory in 1918, we read: "Priest of Stanitsa Poputnaya, Kuban Territory, Protopresbyter Pavel Vasilievitch Ivanov, sixty years. Served in this stanitsa (county) for thirty-six years."378 Fr. Pavel's daughter, Nadezhda Pavlovna, was one such woman choir director in whose excellent and large choir the singers sang Rachmaninov's works soon after they appeared. The priest's entire family, including his daughter, Nadezhda Pavlovna, along with the families of all faithful Orthodox in that area, were brutally tortured and murdered during the cleansing of the Kuban region by the Bolsheviks. By the beginning of the twentieth century, prior to the revolution, conditions of the singers were much improved; boy singers learned a trade while attending music schools and singing. Since they were paid for their singing, the money collected and given to them when their voice changed, was used for their education in the pursuit of a career. Some professional choirs were subsidized by private funds, as was the case of Eliseyev, who built a church and employed about fifty professional singers who were given not only a salary, but an apartment as well. The choir became famous under Samsonenko, a fully-salaried conductor who brought it to a high level of performance. Another private choir in Moscow, famous for singing in the Moscow style (with slight pulsation), was Leonid Vasiliev's private choir, which premiered many of Grechaninov's compositions for the church. There were also many military choirs who sang at particular church services, such as the Izmailovsky Polk (Regiment), with seventy-seven singers of professional standing, who also sang at the Trinity Cathedral. Ivan Gorokhov, assistant to Kastalsky at the Synodal School and choir director of the Metropolitan Church in Moscow, brought his singers (boys and men) to the St. Nicholas Cathedral in New York, with the financial backing of Charles R. Crane, an American businessman. They gave performances at Harvard University, the White House and Carnegie Hall, appearing as a miniature replica of the Synodal Choir. Reactions to the choir can be beneficial to us: Mr. Gorokhoff does not beat time as most conductors do. To one watching his movements, his gestures appear to be even more singularly individual than did those of Mr. Vasily Safonoff, the Cossack who led the New York Philharmonic Orchestra through three seasons without a baton. But however puzzling the conductors hand and finger talk may be to the onlooker, his singers understand it, and their unwavering attention to his demands is unmistakable… Their singing in unison is wonderfully, richly sonorous. Now and again the amazing "double-bass" swells and rolls through the edifices like the open diapason of a great organ, or the choral chant melts into the high treble of a boy's soprano almost weirdly penetrating and yet hauntingly sweet. The music is churchly, impressively solemn…379 Unfortunately the choir did not survive. Due to a sharp decrease in funds, it was disbanded. To be continued. Note: The article above, edited by Holy Trinity Monastery, is one installment in a series of extracts from the original book, Russian Liturgical Choral Aesthetics: Its Past in Tradition and Present in Ruins, by Olga Dolskaya, Associate Professor at the Conservatory of Music, University of Missouri, Kansas City. The extracts published here contain the main historical section of the original book and only some important excerpts from the analysis and interpretation of specific Liturgical compositions. The full version of the book, including cassette tapes, may be ordered from: Olga Dolskaya The Conservatory of Music University of Missouri Kansas City, 4949 Cherry St., Kansas City, MO 64110-2499 or by e-mail at AckerlyO@umkc.edu FOOTNOTES: [Gaps in the footnote numbers are due to the omitted interpretations and analysis of recordings supplied with the full version of the book. Ed.] 294) The Choir and How to Direct It (in Russian), p. 107. 295) K. Dmitrevskaia, Russian Soviet Choral Music (in Russian), (Moscow: 1974), p. 54. 296) It is interesting to note that even provincial Russia cultivated the sound of a rich alto. In speaking of the Kiev Lavra Choir, the author notes that the alto is "very sonorous, wonderfully rich timbre, somewhere between a tenor and a soft female contralto." N. Kompaneiskii, "Church Singing in Kiev," in Russian Musical Gazette (in Russian), no. 40 (1904), p. 877.) 297) The Choir and How to Direct It (in Russian), pp.45-49. 298) Morosan, Choral Performance in Pre-Revolutionary Russia, p. 143. 299) Chesnokov's works for the Russian Orthodox church were composed prior to the revolution. 300) The Choir and How to Direct It (in Russian), p. 153. 301) Ibid, p. 155. 302) The Choir and How to Direct It (in Russian), pp. 155-156. For detailed suggestions concerning how to gradually increase the sound from p to mf to ff and finally ff, see pp. 156. 308) Prot. S.V. Protopopov, On the Artistic Element in Orthodox Church Singing (in Russian), pp. 61-62. 309) Description of a catacomb church of the True Orthodox Church during communism. I. Andreyev, Russia's Catacomb Saints: Lives of the New Martyrs (St. Herman of Alaska Press, CA: 1982), p. 118. 310) Quoted from the Atheist Dictionary (State Political Literature Publishers, Moscow, 1964), in I. Andreyev, Russia's Catacomb Saints, p. 568. 328) N. Lebedev, "Preface" to Works for the Female Choir (in Russian), (Moscow: 1967). 329) Quoted in Milos Velimirovic, "Some Letters of Pavel Chesnokov in the United States," Slavonic and Western Music (Oxford University Press: 1985), pp. 256-257, p. 262. 330) Chesnokov, The Choir and How to Direct It (in Russian), p. 172 331) I. Andreyev, Russia's Catacomb Saints: The Lives of the New Martyrs (Saint Herman of Alaska Press: CA, 1982), pp. 367-368. 332) In Richard Pipes, ed. The Unknown Lenin: From the Secret Archive, Yale University Press: 1996, p. 108. 333) In R. Pipes, ed.,The Unknown Lenin: From the Secret Archive, pp. 174-175. 334) Ibid., p. 532. 338) A major accomplishment in church music was the establishment of the organization Church Singing Association in 1902. Money gathered from concerts was spent on the development of liturgical singing nationwide, benefits for singers, etc. This organization also sponsored conferences, which by 1910, instituted the The All-Russian Association of Conductors, consisting of a fund to finance schools for singing and many other expenses. Their journal was Choral and Conductor's Work [Khorovoe i regentskoe delo], published in St. Petersburg during the years preceding the revolution. 339) Johann von Gardner, "A.T. Grechaninov As a Spiritual Composer," The Fire Bird (in Russian), (May 1956), p. 17. 343) Barrie Martyn, Rachmaninov: Composer, Pianist, Conductor (Scolar Press: 1990), p. 219. 344) Quoted in V. Morosan, Choral Performance in Pre-Revolutionary Russia, p. 248. 345) V. Morosan, Choral Performance, p. 248. 346) Pr. Andrei Papkov, "S.V. Rakhmaninov." Pravoslavnaya Rus, no. 20 (1993), p. 10. 353) N. Kompaneisky, "On the Singing in St. Isaac's Cathedral," Russian Musical Gazette (in Russian), no. 50 (1901), p. 1287. 356) Nikolai Findeisen, "The Synodal School of Church Singing in Moscow," Russian Musical Gazette (in Russian), no. 4 (1898), p. 348. 357) Maurice Baring, "The English Visit to Russia," The Russian Review (1912), p. 104. 358) A. Exon, "The English Visit to Russia," The Russian Review (1912), p. 123. 360) Nikolsky, A. "Vasilii Sergeyevich Orlov," Khorovoe i regentskoe delo, nos. 11-12 (1913), pp. 195-196. 361) D. Lokshin, Zamechatel'nye russkie khory i ikh dirizhery (Moscow: 1963), p. 41. 362) V. Metallov, Sinodal'noe uchilishche Tserkovnago peniia v ego proshlom i nastoiashchem (Moscow: 1911), p. 118. 363) Metallov, Sinodal'noe uchilishche, p. 146. 364) Metallov, Sinodal'noe uchilishche, p. 111. 365) K. Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva v Moskovskoi konservatorii (Moscow: 1970), p. 16. 366) K. Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, pp. 8-43. 367) Anatolii Arkhangelskii, Kontsert Moskovskago Sinodal'nago khora v Vene, Muzyka i zhizn', no. 6-7 (1911), pp. 8-9. 368) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva v Moskovskoi Konservatorii (Moscow: 1970), pp. 22-25. 369) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 22. 370) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 26. 371) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 35. 372) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 14. 373) Gr. Prokofiev, "Opera i kontserty v Moskve," Russkaia muzykal'naia gazeta, no. 14 (1915), p. 260. 374) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, pp. 27-28. 375) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 35. 376) Ptitsa, Mastera khorovogo iskusstva, p. 15. 377) A. Karasev, "Kratkii ocherk letnikh kursov peniia byvshykh v 1898 godu v gor. Ekaterinodare," Russkaia muzykal'naia gazeta, nos. 11-12 (1896). 378) Struggling Russia. Government Documents, October 25, 1919, p. 496. 379) "New York's Russian Church Choir," The Independent, November 27, 1913.