Tradition, religion, and the future of the arts.

The great novelist and columnist Tracy Quan (whose website we designed, by the way) recently wrote in her column about atheism for The Guardian , that music is inseparable from religion. She's right. Some of the greatest music ever written was written as a form of (or an adjunct to) worship. Religion and music are both as old as the hills. Bach, Mozart, Leonard Bernstein, and many contemporary, popular recording artists have all written music expressing their love of God as they see Him.

Tracy's own one line summary of her own article on the topic was "If God is not great, why are the tunes so good?". It's an excellent question, and here's my answer.

Both music and religion have stayed alive for millenia because they each have dedicated, passionate followers, practitioners, and believers. A lot of the greatest music ever written is only hundreds of years old. Anything with that kind of staying power has to have something going for it. But "the old guard" eventually falls out of fashion with the younger generations. That's been addressed too–by both religion and music.

Religion and music (respectively) have traditionalists and modernists. The modernists give religion greater numbers, while the traditionalists give modernists something against which to rebel, and something to (in their view) update. "Fundamentalists" are typically at the far "right" end of traditionalist movements in just about every religion (, except perhaps Buddhism). The modernists look way to the "right" and think of the traditionalists as "stuck in the past", cultists, or just plain loony.

When thinking about this dichotomy (in either religion or music), I instinctively remember the stereotype of the old curmudgeon yelling in disgust about "these kids today, with the hair and the music...". These are the same (generally older) traditionalists who often start certain of the rants in their repertoire with "Back in my day..." or "In the old days"...Interestingly enough, these types of rants are common to both music traditionalists and religious traditionalists.

There are also advocates of modernity (in both religion and music). The religious modernists believe that religion must change to suit the times. They believe that along with culture shifts, and advances in technology (among other things) should come adaptation of religion to those shifts. Traditionalists believe that people should adapt their behavior to religious law, and maintain religious tradition.

That doesn't answer why the tunes are "so great". The tunes are so great because it's rarely the religious moderates who write the great religious music–that which stems from passion, rather than from the "gee, isn't our culture nice?" kind of warm, fuzzy feeling. Modernists want to change, things that are already great, don't need to change. If one views one's religion as sacred, changing it seems counter-intuitive. The intuitive action would be "if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

The modernists generally compose and/or record music that is the religious equivalent of Peter, Paul & Mary's recording of "If I Had A Hammer". It's a nice tune, but it won't rock your world, or change your life—unless you're the song's publisher. Then you'll make a coupla bucks off it, since the song is still doin' business.

Johann Sebastian Bach was not a religious modernist. He was as old school as they ever got. Back in 1705 (when Bach was 20), the old school was a lot newer. Yet, I'm sure someone thought of Bach as a rebel. He was looking to do something new in music, but he wasn't looking to change that which he felt was quite right—his religion.
Bach was the real deal. The tunes are so great because they were written by people with tremendous talent, a contemporary ear, and old-school values. Can you see changing a note of Bach's music to "suit the times"?

Mozart wrote some great music for the church, he was an amazingly talented musician. There is some debate as to Mozart's religious practice. He was a Catholic, but also a Freemason. His father had been a Jesuit. Maybe he wasn't all that devout. I'm not sure we can know, and I'm not sure it makes a difference. Many of his greatest works were commissions for the church, or for church big-wigs (back in the day when they actually wore big wigs), and it was great work. No reason to change what's already great.

My longtime-friend Jonathan Rimberg (bottom left) is one such "old school" (highly talented) musician with a modern ear. (The song to which that links is more of a Hebrew rock and roll song than of religious praise. It's very Beatles and Billy Joel-influenced.)

Jonathan, as part of Shoresh did a fabulous a capella arrangement of a beautiful Jewish hymn-like prayer, in the style of Take 6 (Check out "Family Of Love") . Great tunes have staying power is partially that they were written out of passion, and were executed by people with the talent to do justice to the music. The melody was taken from an Israeli love song from the 1967 War

Having grown up in the Orthodox community, I wasn't always objective about Jewish music. I recently got to thinking about whether the music with contemporary influences made religious purists (traditonalists) "crosses a line". I asked Jonathan about this. His response is that the line (for music) shifts with the times, even though the religious values don't change.

I find that interesting. There's a concept in Judaism of making mundane things holy by adapting them into a Jewish context. Hence we have song parodies of classic rock and roll, but with religious-themed lyrics. Oy! That's a whole 'nother discussion we've already had.

Yet despite the efforts of some religious purists with contemporary ears, there are those on the farther-right (if you can believe that), who resist the modern influences. One rabbi in New York sought to ban a concert of Jewish music at Madison Square Garden because one or more of the performers was set to perform parodies of rock and roll songs.

Although Rabbis lead the Jewish community as a whole, there is a subset of Rabbis who are specialists in applying complex parts the "old school" law to contemporary phenomena. There are, for example, rabbis whose primary gig is applying the law to medical advances. One such rabbi is the leading authority on Jewish Law's take on whether or not, and under what circumstances "brain death" constitutes death. There have been decisions in Jewish law about everything from how to make a microwave oven suitable for cooking kosher food, to sex reassignment surgery. These decisions have made for more than a little controversy and divisiveness.

Musicians, on the other hand, can often get along despite their differences in philosophy about "old school" versus "new school". There are thousands of recorded performances featuring great old-school-meets-new-school combinations. Tony Bennett and Bono is but one example. Igor Stravinsky was open to incorporating Jazz influences into his music.

Mozart collaborated with librettists on his operas. That makes him what we today would call a songwriter. Of course, he's also much more than that, but it's one of his many musical talents.

If he were alive today, he might write for both Broadway, and The Met. Broadway would pay the bills, and The Met would be his passion. Or maybe not.

Religious traditionalists often express disgust at the modernists' adaptation of religion to suit their needs, while many modernists think of the old-schoolers as being zealots, cult-members, or just plain "antiquated".

Even within the realm of symphonic music there were modernists who rebelled. Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Bartok. The great thing with all of them, is that they paid great (and due) homage the great forms that preceded them, and built their creations on a solid foundation. Bartok wrote some amazing pieces based on Hungarian folk songs. The great composers who rebelled did so with respect, and with a thorough understanding and appreciation for what came before them.

Most modernist religious practitioners today aren't like that. They want the quick, easy God-fix, or treat their church or synagogue attendance as if it were a social, or business networking opportunity. What does that have to do with the future of the arts? Plenty! More later...