ODAY, I WILL DISCUSS the ‘correct’ way of singing Gregorian Chant. I undertake this task conscious of Father Valentine’s maxim: “Cemeteries are filled with people who thought they were indispensable.” It’s not my responsibility to prove anything. God alone—not any creature of His—is TRUTH. Because we suffer from a fallen human nature, there will always be fraudsters who stubbornly insist upon spurious doctrines. But our daily task is to fulfill our vocation, not to spend all day arguing with (for example) people who insist the earth is flat.
On the other hand, it’s reasonable for Catholics to ask: “Can we have confidence that our way of singing plainsong—broadly speaking—is similar to how it was sung through the ages, and especially during the golden age of Gregorian Chant?” We can answer in the affirmative, owing to the spectacular ‘line of transmission’ lasting centuries—in churches and monasteries the world over—bearing witness to a breathtaking and irrefutable note-for-note correspondence vis-à-vis the enormous repertoire of beautiful plainchant. This isn’t to deny that individual locations and religious communities often had their own particular ‘style’ of singing. Nor is this to deny the existence of countless variants (slight melodic differences) in the manuscript tradition.
Challenge Me! • Below, I candidly offer my perspective on the rhythm of Gregorian Chant. Don’t hesitate to challenge me if something seems incorrect. [For more on that, please scroll to the bottom.]
Bullying • Some have attempted to bully others who are beginning to fall in love with Gregorian Chant by claiming ‘real’ singers have recourse to nuances and rhythmic markings found in the most ancient manuscripts. But when it comes to someone who says: “I have spent my life studying BAMBERG6lit|905,” or “I consider myself the world’s expert on 239LAON|927,” the correct response would be: “So what?” That’s because such manuscripts are only valuable in relation to (and comparison with) other manuscripts.
More Ink, More Voice? • We should remain vigilant against the false doctrine of “more ink, more voice.” Many who adhere to this doctrine do so out of ignorance, not malice. To understand why it’s false, one must realize neumes have been written in different ways over the last 1,700 years. Consider these two examples:
The principle of “neumatic equivalence” means that different scribes habitually use different formations to denote—if you’ll pardon the pun—the same tones. Both formations above “dex” denote identical tones, and the same is true for “um.” But the pernicious doctrine of more ink, more voice relies upon (to quote a prominent musicologist) “a daisy chain of unproven premises.” This video explains:
I would feel guilty if I failed to provide a real life example. Therefore, here’s a video of someone who follows the “more ink, more voice” doctrine. Notice there’s only one singer conducting herself. That’s typical of the so-called “semiology” approach, since its elaborate ‘values’ system is difficult—some say impossible—to convey to a parish choir or SCHOLA CANTORUM. I had the great privilege for 10 years of studying with a priest who served as Dom Eugène Cardine’s supervisor. He often reminded me that not one of Cardine’s followers directs the same way. In other words, Gregorian semiology seems rather ‘subjective’ or ‘idiosyncratic’ or ‘whimsical’. At least that’s been my impression.
Pothier The Prodigious • Auguste Pécoul (whom Abbat Guéranger called his spiritual son) wrote as follows on 24 June 1901: “To forestall any confusion, let us remember that there is just one Gregorian notation: that restored, according to the ancient manuscripts, by the eminent Abbat of Saint-Wandrille, Dom Pothier.” Pécoul was not wrong. It was the brilliant and innovative Abbat Pothier who restored more accurate melodies and the authentic rhythm, after a long period of decadence. On page 16 of her book (The Politics of Plainchant in fin-de-siècle France, 2013), Dr. Katharine Ellis of Cambridge University gainsays “Mocquereau’s later claims that Dom Pothier paid inadequate attention to the comparison of sources.” I agree with her assessment. Back in 2010, the former head of the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music in Rome put me in touch with a Canadian Pothier expert (Jean-Pierre Noiseux), who shared with me the following spectacular chart:
It’s a comparative table of source transcriptions, assembled in late 1868 by Pothier’s brother—Dom Alphonse Pothier—to demonstrate his elder brother’s working practices. Discovered at the Abbey of Saint-Wandrille, Mr. Noiseux first published this chart in 2004. (I attempted to highlight in yellow some of the numbers.) That particular table has 73 examples of the Easter Alleluia, Pascha Nostrum. On page 253 of his book (Papal Legislation on Sacred Music, 1979), Monsignor Robert Francis Hayburn made the following reprehensible statement, claiming Dom Mocquereau had surpassed (!) Dom Pothier: “Thus the situation in 1904 was one of great delicacy, as the disciple had surpassed his master and paleographic research substantiated his claims.” Examining comparison charts like the one provided by Noiseux, we see what a foolish statement Hayburn made.
Becoming Acclimatized • Accepting that a virga is normally sung with the same rhythm as a punctum can be challenging for musicians whose experience has been mainly shaped—if you’ll excuse the pun—by modern musical notation. But those who have assimilated (by daily singing for decades) the special ‘laws’ of ancient music realize that neumatic shape often has to do with making intervals instantaneously recognizable to the eye. We must remember that music is a language. Languages operate according to their logic, not ours. We may bemoan the fact that rough, dough, hiccough, and through are all pronounced differently. It may grate on us that ‘pony’ and ‘bologna’ rhyme. But none of that matters. Languages don’t function according to our feelings, sensitivities, or desires.
(1 of 4) Mensuralism • In the 19th century, the ‘authentic’ way to sing Gregorian Chant was believed to be mensuralism. In other words, plainsong melodies were thought to consist of “longs and shorts,” as shown by this 1861 edition printed in Baltimore:
(2 of 4) Mensuralism • In 2008, I scanned much of my personal library and uploaded it to the Lalande Library. Some of the books contained a handful of quotes that seem to indicate Gregorian Chant had “longs and shorts” in the melody. I didn’t provide those books in order to advocate for such a performance. Rather, I included them since they’re part of the historical record. It would be nearly impossible to demonstrate that the ‘original’ plainsong used notes representing long and short rhythm, even though modern musical notation does. First of all, we must remember that the Latin language—for many centuries—was based upon “longs and shorts.” However, as time went on, the QUANTITATIVE (which considers long and short syllables) gave way to the QUALITATIVE (which considers stress-accent). By the time of Saint Thomas Aquinas, all Latin poetry had become QUALITATIVE (“stress-accent”) not QUANTITATIVE (“longs and shorts”). When it comes to early plainsong rhythm, the handful of quotes we possess are so ambiguous and vague, it’s not even certain they refer exclusively to the musical notes. Nor is there a distinction made between syllabic and melismatic chant. Moreover, it would be foolish to make assumptions about the plainsong repertoire—which is staggeringly vast—based upon a handful of murky quotes from people who lived in different countries at different times. That would be like using a single quote from Benno Moiseiwitsch to reconstruct all the music of Schubert, Beethoven, Liszt, Chopin, and every other composer from the year 1700 on.
(3 of 4) Mensuralism • Those attempting to resurrect the mensuralist interpretation employ what is—in my humble opinion—a duplicitous strategy. They distinguish between what they call “the oldest and best manuscripts” and the rest of the plainsong repertoire. For a long time, Saint Gall 359 was a favorite manuscript of mensuralists, but it’s fallen out of favor because those who carefully examine the complete collection of Saint Gall manuscripts can’t help but notice how frequently the so-called “school of Saint Gall” contradicts itself. [When people like Dom Gregory Murray find evidence contradicting their theory, they blame “scribal carelessness.”] Once we eliminate the Saint Gall ‘school’ (since its various specimens frequently undermine the mensuralist arguments), we end up with less than a handful of MSS. BAMBERG6lit|905 is a beautiful and ancient manuscript, but 239LAON|927 is also a “go to” for mensuralists. To avoid referring to only one manuscript—which is rather embarrassing—mensuralists like Dom Murray call 239LAON|927 “Metz notation.” By referring to it that way, Dom Murray can make it seem as though there are hundreds of manuscripts supporting his assertions instead of just one. A major problem is that nobody can tell us when 239LAON|927 was created. Over the last 200 years, many have guessed—but nobody knows for sure. Scholars examine the handwriting and compare it to other manuscripts. While that provides (perhaps) a ballpark, nobody—as I’ve already said—knows for sure. Because we don’t know when 239LAON|927 was created, we don’t know whether it’s older than other manuscripts. If we assume it’s older, we can only estimate how much older it is than other manuscripts.
This is crucial to grasp, because most mensuralists (based upon a sentence by Aribo) claim that everyone originally sang in a mensuralist manner, but then they stopped. If we accept that theory, we have a right to ask: “When specifically did this happen?” We also have a right to ask: “Who made this decision? In other words, why did such a colossal change take place universally?”
If they wish to be taken seriously, mensuralists must answer a question of the utmost importance. They must explain how specifically those who wanted to make this change were able to get the word out all over Europe and beyond. Remember that automobiles, airplanes, telephones, and the internet wouldn’t be invented for another 950 years. Are we to believe that some unknown monk hired and trained a massive army of horsemen who traveled all over Christendom, telling everyone who was singing plainchant to replace the “longs” and “shorts” in the ancient melodies with an equalist interpretation? Does this sound plausible? Even if we countenance such an idea, wouldn’t there necessarily be a long period of transition? Why is all evidence of that ‘transition’ period missing?
(4 of 4) Mensuralism • I don’t see how it’s possible to justify a mensuralist approach in light of the thousands of ancient manuscripts which have been made available online. The “more ink, more voice” approach likewise seems impossible to justify. A major reason has to do with ‘leakage’. In other words, if either of those theories were correct, I’m absolutely convinced (having carefully examined the manuscript tradition for 2.5 decades) leakage would have occurred.
Consider the following image, which shows the “correct” rhythm according to Dom Gregory Murray (a mensuralist):
But if that were indeed the ‘true’ rhythm, we’d naturally expect future manuscripts to show leakage. In other words, in the innumerable examples followed through the centuries, we’d surely see (whether done through sloppiness, malice, or falling back into old ways) notes such as the blue:
We Don’t See Leakage • And yet, such leakage is nowhere to be found in the countless manuscripts we possess. From my perspective, this is “case closed.” Furthermore, on page 112 of her book—The Politics of Plainchant in fin-de-siècle France, 2013—Dr. Katharine Ellis makes an astute observation:
“The scientific drive for statistical proof that characterizes Mocquereau’s work on pitch contour is replaced, in his work on rhythm and interpretation, by extrapolation from a minute body of comparative evidence and the making of creative leaps in its analysis. Dom Mocquereau provides no equivalent, for rhythm, of the huge body of raw data used in the Paléographie musicale to demonstrate Gregorian melodic unity via Justus ut palma. He cannot. Instead he does the opposite: he elaborates an aesthetically based theory of interpretation which he presents—distilled via carefully selected examples—as both general and normative.”
Dr. Ellis was drawing attention to the fact that Dom Mocquereau—like the mensuralists—used hundreds of manuscripts to support melodic reconstruction, but only a minuscule handful of his favorite MSS to support his rhythmic theories. In other words, Dom Mocquereau disregarded 99.9% of the plainsong repertoire because it contradicted his rhythmic theory. Not content with pointing out that Dom Mocquereau’s “inconsistency is disconcerting,” Dr. Ellis couldn’t refrain from asking: “Was he aware of the incongruity?” But Dom Mocquereau died on 18 January 1930. Therefore, Dr. Ellis was 83 years too late to ask him.
Final Thoughts:
In the final analysis, Willi Apel was right. There is no Gregorian Chant ‘secret rhythmic code’ that requires decades of study to decipher. Each day, more ancient manuscripts are photographed and placed online which bear witness to a breathtaking and irrefutable note-for-note correspondence vis-à-vis the immense plainsong repertoire. Verily, we can have certainty that our way of singing plainsong is similar—broadly speaking—to how it was sung through the ages.
If you disagree with anything I’ve written, I hope you will email me. For about a decade, I have been challenging scholars to debate these issues, particularly certain items (above) which I’ve suggested are irrefutable. Our website receives millions of visitors every year—and our Facebook page receives about 500,000 views (!) each fortnight—yet I’ve had difficulty finding scholars willing to debate these issues. I hope that changes!
I will close with a quote by Father Ralph March, a Cistercian who edited the Sacred Music Journal (1966-1974) and served as choirmaster at Cologne Cathedral (1977-1987):
“If any single man could deserve
the title father of the renewed chant
it would be Dom Joseph Pothier.”
