Church choirs are often inclusive – and must remain so
When I was a child, I sang in a church choir. Under the aegis of a very brilliant but troubled choirmaster, I was introduced to some of the most beautiful sacred music, challenging works by William Byrd, John Rutter and Hans Leo Hassler. It taught me musical discipline, the importance of working in a group and most importantly it showed me how people from all walks of life can come together for a common goal.
The announcement last week that Sheffield Cathedral had disbanded its choir in order to start afresh and form a group that reflects a diverse city does not mirror my own experiences. Our choir took people from all walks of life: postmasters, hospital porters, cleaners, teachers and city businessmen. Choral singing is the most democratic of all art forms and we reflected that; there was no pecking order, no social hierarchy.
Equally important was the fact that there was no anxiety over our repertoire, no accusations of elitism, and each new work, however tricky to master, was greeted with enthusiasm. In fact, we were merely carrying on a long tradition in which people with faith (which, yes, I had in those days) came together to make music.
For many years, a parish choir would be made up of all sorts of members of the local community and did not represent some sort of cultural hegemony. Indeed, if you look back far enough, you will see that boy choristers were often the sons of the poor. At the Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-avon at the end of the 15th century, boys were kept in cramped conditions above a charnel house where the remains of corpses were stored when graves were being reused. One can only imagine the boys’ relief once they were safely installed in the stalls.
Admittedly, the inclusion of women was more of a problem through history. For centuries, cathedral choirs would consist only of men and boys (nuns, of course, sang in convent choirs). However, great changes occurred in the 19th century (generally a period of progress for parochial music in England), and more and more women began to be welcomed in parish choirs, particularly in rural areas . This coincided with the rise in importance of parish church choirs as they found themselves “vested” – ie, placed between the altar and the congregation.
Perhaps Sheffield Cathedral choir is socially homogenous; certainly several of the younger choristers attended private schools and these larger, more famous institutions are more likely to be hijacked by the middle classes. But sacred music should not suffer in a bid to improve diversity. In fact, it is patronising to assume that you have to change the music you make in any outreach project because it assumes that someone from a less wealthy background can only appreciate a lower form, when ordinary people have been singing complex liturgical masses since kingdom come.
I lay some of the blame with Gareth Malone, the phenomenally successful choirmaster for the nation. While I don’t want to denigrate his work with Army wives or the choir he set up for the Invictus Games, there is a problem with his modus operandi. Malone perpetuates this idea that there are barriers to singing in choirs because people may find the environs off-putting. Thus, he tries to whip his singers into a frenzy with more populist work, meaning that the metaphorical portcullis can’t be lifted. Malone may seem like he is championing cultural inclusivity, but really he is just enforcing the reverse.
It is true that as we have become an increasingly secular society, so we have become less socially democratic in some ways, certainly poorer intellectually. I remember a friend of mine telling me about his grandfather, a Nottinghamshire miner, who had left school at 14 to work down the pits and then in his 60s decided to study for a degree in English literature with the Open University. He gained a first, which he attributed to the fact that from childhood he had studied the gorgeous, knotty, dexterous language of the King James Bible every Sunday. Because of this, the works of Milton and Shakespeare posed little threat.
It must be the same if you are regularly working through the music of Byrd. If the church doesn’t form the backbone of ordinary people’s lives, it isn’t just spiritual enrichment that is at stake, it’s intellectual enrichment, too. Maybe the decision of Sheffield Cathedral choir will lead to a more diverse group of singers (although, with accusations of bullying and harassment claims now emerging – not linked to the choir itself – within the past few days, it seems that this ancient institution has more urgent issues to deal with), but its new recruits must adhere to certain rules.
Any budding chorister must, first and foremost, be in tune with the history of the institution they are stepping into. If a church or cathedral lets external forces set their agenda then it is essentially inviting people to desecrate its past. If multiple voices are allowed to have their say over, for example, the choice of music, then this will result in a very fragmented choir, and the joys of common purpose that choral singing brings will be lost.
We must remember that a church, any church, is older and wiser than us and we must respect its traditions. Otherwise, we will simply end up with a modern-day Tower of Babel.
Gareth Malone perpetuates the idea there are barriers to singing in choirs