ROWING UP, I remember hearing adults complain while at work. In particular, I remember certain professors at the conservatory bewailing each day: “Oh no, Monday … I’m so tired.” Then, the next day: “Oh no, Tuesday … such a tedious day, and I’m still tired.” Their complaints never subsided; but I found the situation puzzling. I loved studying music at the conservatory. In my view, every day was a great day!
In a moment, I’ll explain why I bring up “complaining.” But first, many have asked about the COMMUNION FAUXBOURDON settings posted at the feasts website. Specifically, they want to know how such items sound in a real parish. To respond, I have taken a live recording from our parish and mixed it with me singing the COMMUNION for 11 January 2026:
It’s wise for us to take a moment: “Remember the days when you prayed for what you have now.” At the start of this article, I shared how—in my student days at the conservatory—I was bewildered to hear professors constantly complaining. In my view, it was a joy to study music. I felt that it would be a real delight to someday become a professor of music (or a professional musician). Yet, I’m sure readers have noticed that in my blog articles I often discuss the considerable obstacles encountered by those of us striving to make a difference at the parish level. Have I thereby become the very thing I hated? I certainly hope that’s not the case. In the articles I publish, my intention is to soberly analyze—and speak candidly about—the obstacles we face.
Consider three (3) difficulties that pop into my head at the moment:
(a) We are given such a small amount of rehearsal time with our volunteer choirs, yet fantastic results are expected from us. How can this be accomplished?
(b) As directors, we aren’t college professors who get to teach young, healthy, vibrant conservatory students selected for their excellence in music, and who are required (!) to attend music classes every day. We have to deal with constant absences (due to sickness, family events, parishioners being out of town, family obligations, and so forth). Can we honestly expect to be able to tackle the THESAURUS MUSICAE SACRAE, which is difficult even for professional musicians?
(c) The volunteers who generously and heroically participate in our parish choirs run the full gamut (in terms of which musical skills they possess). Some have considerable musical training while others cannot locate middle C on a keyboard. How can the conscientious choirmaster keep the rehearsals—and the Masses, for that matter—interesting for those with a musical background without completely overwhelming those who struggle to locate middle C on the keyboard? Is it crazy to think such a thing is possible?
Furthermore, conscientious choirmasters are also expected to teach singers about theology; Church history; the Divine Office; the pronunciation of Latin; the liturgical year; sight-reading and musical intervals; Roman Catholic composers; the structure of the sacred liturgy; and so forth. Is such a thing really possible?
Solution • When it comes to all these ‘challenges’ or ‘roadblocks’ or ‘hindrances’—however you wish to classify them—I have found considerable success by introducing COMMUNION FAUXBOURDON settings found at the feasts website. Such settings teach the choir members about psalm tones, plainsong modes, blending, listening to one another, proper phrasing, the PSALTER of King David, and many other wonderful things. Best of all, they include both women and men. That means one gender group doesn’t have to patiently sit there (bored) while the other is learning.
