As has been hinted at before on this blog, I regard composition competitions as Good Things. I have two on the go at the moment, one of which is Christmas-related and to mention it further would violate a moratorium on discussing such things at inappropriate times of year.
The other of my current projects, however, is destined for an annual award in memorial to Dr Harold Smart, run by the Royal Schools of Church Music, whose King James Bible Competition I rejected last year in favour of St Andrews' (and a good decision that turned out to be). This year, not only is there no entry fee, but the award is for something I've not seen asked for before - to write a hymn tune setting a new text by Bishop Timothy Dudley-Smith. This has much appeal to me both as a church musician and as composer. Although a small-time organist, I consider myself to have built up a pretty good knowledge of what makes a hymn tune good - and the definition of 'good' encompasses substantially more than just whether it's a nice melody.
I'll say something, though. It's damned difficult. Writing 15 minutes for full orchestra is almost easy (relatively, you understand - I still lose sleep) compared to - what...35?, 40 seconds of tune? - that's got to be performable, without music, by the general public. My current plan is actually to compose two possible entries, one 'English' sounding and the other of a more 'contemporary' idiom suited to performance by guitars, and then either pick one or combine elements of the two. I think, however, I've identified some key areas of existing tunes that ensure their success:
Individuality of melody: Seems obvious, but a very difficult thing to come up with. A truly good tune is a valuable possession indeed, and must tread fine line between simplicity and avoiding banality. It must avoid containing any difficult intervals or other tripping-points but at the same time must be individual enough that it can be easily memorised by the vast majority of performers, who will not read music. And as stated above, the melody must be composed so as to be reasonably adaptable to both traditional congregation singing led by a SATB choir and organ, and more modern worship styles led by a rock band or pianist.
Rhythm: I am prepared to stick my neck out a little here and advocate a more traditional approach to melodic writing, leaning more towards the chorale than the rock song. For lay congregations it is simply easier to learn four-square tunes than the more complex rhythms of more popular styles, for the reason that most pop music is based heavily on a solo vocal line that works most effectively in the hands of a solo singer. Getting a congregation to learn, communally, the nuances of placing the start of a note just before the beat, or where to enter when the introduction to a song consists of only one chord without the helpful signpost of a cadence, is difficult enough even with an experienced leader. That's not to say that careful use of modern styles can never work, as the oft-derided but well-crafted output of Graham Kendrick shows, but it must be done with an eye to tradition.
Adaptable word-setting: It's all very well writing a tragic minor-key passage where the first verse mentions death, fire and brimstone, but what if the same phrase will coincide with completely the opposite sentiment in the last? A good text will generally avoid any particularly ill-judged juxtapositions, but it is unrealistic to expect the writer not to alter the mood and subject by whole verse rather than line-by-line. In addition, there is every chance that a tune in a commonly-used metre (as opposed to in Common Metre) may be sung to different words to that for which it was originally composed. The composer is therefore wise to avoid the temptation to go overboard with word-painting but rather to concentrate on the best way setting the speech-rhythms of the text (which again, a good text will preserve throughout the verses). A number of the popular-style tunes mentioned in the last section, and indeed, several 'classics', have danger moments where the words do not fit the tune well - the chief danger being the congregation coming adrift due to confusion or having insufficient time to breathe. Interestingly, different congregations develop different localised 'solutions' to ambiguous passages. Three problematic lines in the hymn Make Me A Channel of Your Peace (one verse of which I find uncomfortably close to the text of Margaret Thatcher's famous piece to camera upon taking up office) are not only all dealt with differently in successive verses, but also precisely how can vary between different churches/organists. In fairness, the onus is more on the writer of the text not to present the composer with such problems in the first place...
Long notes at the end of phrases: Phrases of text that end with an anapest or a molossus (go on, look them upplagal-or-perfect-cadence-and-back (I like to do this with a sus 4) which puts the brakes on the hardcore Women's Guild members who are trying to get another few milliseconds off the time they can get out the back to brew the post-service coffee. The traditional way of dealing with ends of phrases was simply to treat the long final syllable as a fermata (which is why you wrote them in A-level chorale harmonisation) and trust the kantor to make a suitable gesture so that the orchestra and choir would then move off correctly. Naturally this presents some problems when my back is turned to the congregation and my hands - and feet - are somewhat engaged already. The length of this paragraph hopefully conveys something of the consideration due to this feature in order to prevent church musicians from having epic fails through no fault of their own.
A related point - the first note. If the congregation aren't going to hit the first beat of the verse square-on, you need to start the line a fraction early to let everything settle in together. An anacrusis is a very good way of doing this as everyone then has a cue to land on the bar proper. Starting the verse on the beat can also (usually) work. Once again we come to another inherent problem in using more 'adventurous' rhythms. It seems conservatism is the best way of avoiding failure in this area.
Alternative harmony for last verse: I discussed this a while back in connection with a carol arrangement I was making at the time, but it deserves another mention. At the risk of taking too many digs at pop/rock music (in which the chord moves generally on the bar line), this is something one can only really do with traditional hymns (in which the harmony moves on practically every beat). I have an uncertain knowledge of quite how mandatory it is for the composer of the tune to supply an 'interesting' harmonisation for when the congregation is singing in unison, but I have something of an over-developed attraction to doing so. I do know of the existence of a little book called 85 Last Verses or similar which advocates erring on the side of caution, but anything is terrific fun if you actually manage to take the congregation with you.
I seem to display a marked skepticism about the success of writing this kind of music in popular styles, possibly a result of the sort of church music I normally play and my background in general. Still, I've come up with what I think is a solution that at least acknowledges both sides of the stylistic spectrum and follows most of the principles discussed above. We shall see how it does!
1 comment:
When is the next Budapest blog coming?
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