A
great deal of my professional life as a concert pianist is spent exploring
the intimate and fascinating connection between the world of music and
the world of theology. Before I progress further, I must state categorically
that I am primarily a musician who passionately loves theology. And
while many times I might envy the theologian who passionately loves
music, I do not consider myself a theologian by any means. So please
consider the limitations of the following observations in that perspective.
I have always loved to make connections between subjects that
at first glance seem wildly unrelated. And my lecture recital entitled
Liszt and the Cross: Music as Sacrament in the B Minor Sonata is a perfect
case-study. Unsuspecting concert goers are initially presented with
a perfect example of what I have called “cultural dissonance” when they
arrive for my performance of Liszt’s monumental B Minor -Sonata and
see an enormous Byzantine icon of the Transfiguration on stage next
to the concert Steinway piano. It is my challenge in the course of my
lecture to bridge the seemingly foreign worlds of Liszt’s 19th century
Romanticism with the ancient theology of the icon.
I begin with the important anthropological truth that mankind
is a sacramental being. As Fr. Boris Bobrinskoy writes: “Mankind is
a sacramental being by nature and needs the instrumentality of both
sacraments and symbols to attain communion with the Invisible.”
And Franz Liszt, as a devout Roman Catholic living for a time
in the predominantly Protestant German town of Weimar, understood this
sacramental truth and was highly critical of Christianity devoid of
sacramental reality. He writes in 1834:
How in the end did the reformers not perceive that to
try to spiritualize religion to the point where it subsists devoid of
all external manifestation is tantamount to claiming a reform of the
work of God, the great and sublime artist who, in creating the universe
and mankind, revealed himself as the omnipotent, eternal and infinite
poet, architect, musician, and sculptor?
And we musicians innately understand this sacramental connection
in relation to our music. Our medium is visceral, physical. In my case
as a pianist, I strike keys that move hammers that strike strings that
vibrate and with the help of a soundboard, create physical waves that
directly and physically communicate to all within hearing range of the
performance. And it is here where I find an important connection between
the world of music and the world of the icon.
In contrast to standard Western painting where perspective is
portrayed naturally, many icons use “inverse perspective.” Rather than
the eye being drawn away to a spot in the distance where all lines naturally
converge (as in reality), the iconographer frequently reverses this
process and throws all lines toward the viewer. Once this is realized,
the viewer (or if Orthodox, the pray-er) is no longer the objective
viewer of a “work of art,” but rather a participant in the sacred reality
of the icon. Objectivity gives way to the mystery of sacred space --
the viewer is engulfed in sacred love.
And in many ways, with music, the sound waves of a performance
engulf the listener in a way that makes objectivity less possible. The
listener is in the sacred space of the performance. The facade of rationality
melts away and the listener is transported to a different reality --
a mystical reality where God’s grace can be experienced directly. It
is this sacramental quality about musical experience that resonates
with the experience of the icon. The priest Felicite de Lamennais, Liszt’s
spiritual mentor, wrote:
Music,
a sister of poetry, effects the union of the arts, which appeal directly
to the senses, with those which belong to the spirit; there object is
... to second the efforts of humanity, that it may fulfill its destiny
of raising them from the earth, and therefore by inciting to a continual
upward striving.
Liszt biographer Alan Walker states in his monumental three-volume
biography that “Music, for Liszt, was the voice of God. He often behaved
as if music possessed healing properties. Because of its divine origin,
he seemed to say, mere exposure to it was a spiritual balm.” And echoing
the Orthodox theology of worship, Liszt himself writes, “Art is heaven
on earth, to which one never appeals in vain when faced with the oppressions
of this world.” And affirming the important element of mystery in sacramental
experience, he writes again, “... Is not music the mysterious language
of a faraway spirit world whose wondrous accents, echoing within us,
awaken us to a higher, more intensive life?”
Understanding Liszt’s language about the mystical world of musical
experience invites further connections. Certainly Fr. Gregory Petrov’s
Akathist communicates that same idea:
In
the harmony of many voices, in the sublime beauty of music, in the glory
of the works of great composers, You lead us to the threshold of paradise
to come, and to the choir of angels. All true beauty has the power to
draw the soul towards You and to make it sing in ecstasy: Alleluia!
In fact, the most important connections go all the way back to
St. Athanasius and St. John of Damascus. St. Athanasius’ bold and unflinching
defense of the physicality of the incarnation of Christ reclaimed the
biblical vision of God communing with his creatures though the physical
world. And St. John of Damascus’ defense of the icon as the affirmation
of the same incarnation is the very basis for a “theology of the arts.”
In closing, what St. John says about the icon certainly gives patristic
weight to the icon/music connection. His words could easily describe
Liszt’s magnificent Sonata in B Minor:
Dr.
Paul Barnes is co-chair of piano at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
His lecture/recitals exploring the relationship of theology and music
have received international acclaim. Liszt and the Cross: Music as
Sacrament in the B Minor Sonata explores the fascinating relationship
between music, theology, and the Orthodox icon and has been featured
at the 1996 MTNA National Convention and the 1996 American Liszt Society
Festival. It was also presented in several places throughout our Diocese
and reviewed in Jacob’s Well, Winter 1997.
Barnes’ latest lecture/recital entitled Minimalism, Mysticism
and Monasticism: Music as Contemplation delves into the contemplative
aspects of music featuring works of Arvo Part, Philip Glass, and Ludwig
van Beethoven. Barnes will give the premier performance at the Astman
International Concert Series at Hofstra University in March 1998.
From Jacob’s
Well
Newspaper of the Diocese of New York and New Jersey
Orthodox Church in America
Fall/Winter 1997-1998