O IFs, ANDs, or BUTs about it: unison is hard. Back in graduate school, I was a Teaching Assistant. That meant I taught voice lessons to music minors and dutifully lectured through pre-packaged slides for the professor. Most of the students in those lecture halls were there for one reason: to check off a box. The course—MUS 103: Music Understanding—offered a broad-strokes tour of music history, though beautifully, St. Hildegard of Bingen made the cut. Her prolific monophony earned her a cameo on the syllabus. If only I could go back and re-teach those sections with what I know now about this remarkable abbess, mystic, and (let’s be honest) a composer whose influence resonates throughout the centuries.
Tessitura Too High • I’d been hunting for the right Hildegard chant for my Schola Immaculata, and eventually came across a gorgeous recording of Ave Generosa on an album of Ola Gjeilo’s music. Stunning, yes—but it tops out at an A5. Some of my singers could scale that with ease; others would not want to attempt. And chant should never feel like a high-wire act. So, with a colleague’s help, we transposed it down to a range where the whole group could actually pray it, not just survive it.
* PDF Download • MUSICAL SCORE
—“Ave Generosa” by Hildegard.
Here’s the direct URL link.
Deceptively Simple • Now, back to my opening statement: unison is hard. My volunteer schola cantorum runs from eager amateurs to degreed musicians, yet we spent more rehearsal time on a handful of Hildegard’s lines than on other three-part a cappella repertoire. Why? Because chant demands more than correct notes—it demands breathing, moving, and essentially being one voice in an unmetered flow. As many of us know, it’s not impossible, but it’s no easy feat either.
Pressure On Julie • When I made a practice recording, I had to nail it in one take. That meant memorizing it, because any hesitancy on my part would reflect straight into the singers using me as a rehearsal aid. And in chant, there’s nowhere to hide. Other a cappella pieces let one section cover for another if something goes awry; chant is merciless in its purity. Which is also where its beauty lies: its nakedness, its confidence, its refusal to let anything distract from the Divine.
Seventeen Women • Seventeen women chanting Hildegard’s monophony nine centuries after she composed it—that’s not just music. That’s Catholicism at its most apostolic, most bold, and most timeless. It’s why chant continues to hold pride of place in the liturgy: because it is wholly Catholic, wholly transcendent, and wholly directed toward God.
