The Church Anthem Books as barometers of taste
by
Dr. Donald Webster
Donald Webster discovers a few surprises, and much merit, in a new edition of an old favourite.
Alongside Stanford’s ‘Polyphony for Tuppence’ to which Simon Lindley made reference in his recent lecture to the Church Music Society, the Church Anthem Book of 1933 - a hundred items for five bob - must rank as the bargain of the century. In those days you couldn’t get much for threepence and several items in the CAB cost a forbidding eightpence. Speaking generally, anthologies often contain only a handful of star attractions, together with much routine material, but most of us felt that none of the hundred anthems fell below a very exacting standard.
Choirmen were heard to complain about the short score layout of most pieces and the clutter created by staff and tonic solfa notation. (The latter was removed in later printings, and perhaps it was only the Welsh choirs who were incovenienced!) The original inclusion of solfa, made, we are told, at the behest of Walford Davies, is an interesting reflection of his basically tonal orientation, and the didactic tone of the Prefaces similarly reflects the climate of the times and the willingness of humble church musicians to respect expert advice. 1933 saw Hitler’s seizure of power, but the conclusion of the Body-line Tour led by D. R. Jardine in Australia is, perhaps, a reminder of the temper of the times.
In a short article it would be out of place to give a blow-by-blow account of what Dr Lionel Dakers saw fit to retain, what to exclude and what to add that reflected contemporary needs and values in the New Church Anthem Book. Somewhat surprisingly, he states in the Preface that ‘about one third of the original contents have been discarded’. In fact, only 48 anthems are common to both books. Of the 52 rejected items, other works by the respective composers have in many instances either been retained or replaced by other of their anthems.
Those sunk without trace, in roughly chronological order, include Gottfried Wagner, J. M. Bach, Boyce, Beethoven, Walmisley, Ouseley, Brahms (represented by two extracts from the Requiem, Arensky, Percy Buck, Thomas Armstrong, Armstrong Gibbs, Tertius Noble, Maurice Besly and a carol-arrangement by A. E. Baker. Some of these never really caught on 60 years ago, but almost without exception they would grace any service at which they were sung, which is more than can be said of much contemporary church music. Of the rejections, only Besly’s O Lord, support us and Armstrong Gibbs’ Most glorious Lord of life sound dated in idiom, yet both composers set their noble texts worthily. It is interesting to note how little of the 18th century figures in the new book, giving the impression that the writer in The Musical Times who said that between Purcell and Varley Roberts there was ‘nowt that mattered’ spoke more truly than is often assumed.
Chunks of Bach’s Jesu, priceless treasure and Purcell’s O sing unto the Lord would hardly be welcomed today and it will come as a shock to many that in 1933 Bach and S. S. Wesley shared top billing with Mendelssohn! Yet cathedral and parish church choral music was less tolerant of Victoriana than is the case nowadays. This is reflected in Dakers’ exclusion of several funeral pieces by Handel, Goss and Wesley that accord ill with current attitudes. Even so, in these financially straightened times a strong case can be made for the retention of Ley and Davies so long as copies remain usable.
However, Dakers is eminently worth buying - if only for the 52 new items and the vastly superior editions of around two dozen old favourites and original Latin words. The retention of such much signifies that amidst ‘the changes of chances of this mortal life’ shared and cherished values remain. Shephard, Carter, Oxley, How, Rutter, Moore and Morgan strike a practicable contemporary note; Leighton and Aston a more challenging one; and Joubert’s O Lorde, the Maker of al thing is truly a contemporary classic.
Nevertheless, the exclusion of Sumsion, Jackson and Wills is somewhat surprising. Of the ‘new’ composers whose work was well-known in 1933, Somervell, Thatcher, Marchant, Harris and Vaughan Williams continue to wear well. Copyright restrictions then had precluded the inclusion of any Elgar, Stanford and Bairstow - all of whom are now thankfully in place. Other newcomers are Lassus, Philips, Schütz, Wise, Saint-Saëns, Piccolo, Morley, Bruckner, Pitoni and King John IV of Portugal. Thus, whilst a dozen or so of Dakers’ hundred are unmistakeably of today, the rest continue to proclaim all that is most precious in our Anglican heritage. This shared sense leaves us with the feeling that the good taste we try to display in our own houses can, and should, also be present in the house of God.
Many of us were profoundly disturbed by numerous assertions made within the pages of In tune with heaven and elsewhere that taste was a personal matter, something in the ear of the beholder. The claim that value judgments cannot be made is one of the most damaging of contemporary aesthetic pronouncements. It runs counter to traditional philosophical doctrines, and some would say that it flies in the face of common sense.
I can call to mind very few recent publications that have done more to uphold ongoing musical standards in a practical and meaningful way. Dakers’ collection demonstrates the long tradition of fine music, pays tribute to recent input and shows that educated taste is an ongoing value, to be preserved from ill-informed and savage onslaughts.