HISTORY OF THE CAMPAIGN
The Background
Since ancient times, music of any kind and for use on any occasion has frequently been viewed by philosophers and religious authorities alike with suspicion if not downright hostility. No doubt, this is an indirect acknowledgement of its subtle power to influence thinking and behaviour. Where music has been sanctioned, its function has often been seen to be less that of providing simple enjoyment and more about better purveying or enhancing educational or other aims. Over the years, thinkers have veered between a passionate advocacy of music and an absolute condemnation of it. The words of Amos, for example - "Take thou away from me the noise of thy songs; for I will not hear the melody of thy viols" - are entirely typical of the jaundiced views of the prophets in the early part of the Old Testament. However, as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks reminds us: "There is something spiritual about music, and something musical about the human spirit. When the Israelites experienced redemption at the Red Sea, they sang. So did Hannah when she had a child. The Levites sang in the Temple. Every day, in Judaism, we preface our morning prayers with what we call 'Verses of Song' with their magnificent crescendo, Psalm 150, in which instruments and the human voice combine to sing God's praises. When language takes wing heavenward, it modulates from speech to song."
Moving on into the Christian era, we find music playing a similarly central role in worship. St Bede tells us, for instance, that when St Augustine and his monks landed in England in 597, "(t)hey came, singing". However, even as music became entrenched in worship in cathedrals and monasteries, a dichotomy of views arose. Kenneth Long in The Music of the English Church tells us that "from the early days of Christianity there have always been those who viewed music with misgivings... Music, from being an aid to worship, could quickly become an end in itself, tickling the ear and stimulating sensuous thoughts instead of lifting up the spirit". At times, passions have run high. Long instances one particular controversy on this matter: "As early as 1580 a Puritan pamphlet unequivocally demanded 'Let cathedral churches be utterly destroyed ... (they are) very dens of thieves, where the time and place of God's service, preaching and prayer, is most filthily abused; in piping with organs, in singing, ringing and trolling of the Psalms from one side of the choir to another, with squealing of chanting choristers ...". Even when a role for music in worship has been acknowledged, there has been recurring disagreement as to exactly which music is acceptable. At different times in the past, for example, some have inveighed against organ accompaniment, polyphony or the setting of Latin texts to music, while others have insisted that if there is to be singing it should be of a congregational nature.
Down the ages, matters other than the purely musical have also impinged on the choral tradition. Drunken choir masters and brawling lay clerks, for instance, have made regular appearances in the pages of the history books, whilst, at times, scandalous impropriety during services, absenteeism and the employment of choristers totally devoid of musical talent were so commonplace as to be unremarkable. These were not the only problems. One problem which frequently featured was money – money to pay the salaries of the lay clerks, money to pay the choristers and money to run the choir schools. Chorister education also eventually came to pose serious difficulties. In medieval times, when parents donated their sons to ecclesiastical foundations as oblates, they did so in the belief that this was the best way to provide an education for them. Simply by being an oblate and learning to sing the Offices of the Church boys received the best formation that was then available. However, with the advent of secular learning, choir schools had to fund a much wider range of studies for their pupils. This was a financial burden which grew over the years and which became acute following the two world wars. From the late 1940s onwards, choir schools increasingly sought to boost their revenues by opening them up to non-choristers. This was not without its own problems. For one thing, no longer were lessons fitted around cathedral duties. Instead, choristers had to cope with the competing demands of school and cathedral as best they could. And as the school curriculum expanded and the importance of a good general education grew, parents became increasingly anxious. The question which posed itself was very simple: how could choristers balance their very intensive choral obligations with their equally intensive school studies? In the end, it was generally felt that something had to give, and that something proved to be daily matins. An Office which had flourished since the Reformation came to be restricted to Sundays. Its future does not look assured. Stephen Beet, who conducted a survey into the availability of sung matins on Sundays a few years ago, found "a rather depressing picture". As many as twenty-two cathedrals at that time, he discovered, never or hardly ever sang Matins.
Lastly, following the Second World War, the recruitment of boys became more and more challenging. There is disagreement as to what had given rise to this state of affairs. Some attributed it to a drop in the number of families attending church and yet others to the growing number of rival attractions available to young people. It has been said that an inspired choirmaster and a determined dean and chapter would always be able to recruit sufficient boys, but one is minded to reflect that inspired and determined people are no more common in the Church than in the secular world at large.
The recruitment of boys is one thing. The recruitment of lay-clerks is quite another. Whereas in former days choristers were neglected or treated as menial skivvies, these days, they are the fortunate beneficiaries of one of the finest systems of education in the world. Many of them subsequently go on to make distinguished careers for themselves in a wide range of fields. Being employed as a lay-clerk, however, is a very different kettle of fish. Certainly, it is a job many would envy, though not for the pay. Few lay-clerks can afford not to have other employment – and that makes for problems: for a start, how does one hold down a job in some other profession and at the same time make oneself available for singing in a cathedral on a daily basis? Unless conditions change – which is very unlikely – the recruitment of competent lay-clerks will increasingly prove very difficult. And without lay-clerks, cathedral music as we know it will cease to exist.
The Founding of Campaign for the Traditional Cathedral Choir
Life does not stand still and situations change. Yet it should come as no surprise if cathedral music continues to prove itself something of a battle ground. Things which are treasured or abhorred are apt to excite strong feelings, and it would be wrong to see this as entirely negative. Happily, there are few, if any, who would now deny music an honoured place in Christian worship. That argument has been won – so much so that by the seventies of the last century, the choral tradition was frequently said to be in a healthier state than it had ever been. The decay and neglect which had once afflicted it and the after-effects of the two world wars had been overcome, and it was widely recognised and treasured as a jewel of English cultural and spiritual life. Burrowing away underneath and sometimes surfacing into the public arena, however, the old problems persisted. Not surprisingly, the question of how to fund cathedral choirs and (where they had them) choir schools became more and more acute. Neither a musical education nor a general education comes cheaply these days. Happily, it is no longer possible, as in the past, to round up the sons of servants to fill choir stalls! Those days have long gone. Modern parents expect the best for their sons – but the best costs. It is true that the opening up of a choir school to non-chorister pupils has often turned what was a financial burden into an asset, though, as noted above, the change has not always proved painless. As for the cathedrals themselves, while it is true they remain one of the few bright spots in the rapidly accelerating de-Christianisation of the country, with congregations generally holding up, their costs, too, continue to soar – the largest element in these costs being the provision of choral services. As a result, some have questioned the modus operandi and the very rationale of cathedral music. Are we, they ask, getting what we want from all this expenditure? Thus it is that the thorny question of what kind of music is appropriate to church services has become a bone of contention once more. On a regular basis, suggestions are made that it should encompass other 'genres' – jazz, pop, rock, what have you. Indeed, the 1992 Archbishops' Report on cathedral music, In Tune with Heaven, specifically recommended experimentation. None of this comes as a surprise. What might be labelled "informality in worship" has long been widespread at parish-church level, and some would like to see this in cathedrals as well. Were, however, deans and chapters to accede to such wishes, the choral tradition we have inherited from ages past would be placed in grave jeopardy.
However sketchy this account of cathedral choirs, it shows that many of the difficulties which beset them in the past have an unfortunate habit of returning. Complacency can never be an option. Eternal vigilance has always been the price of maintaining anything worthwhile, and each generation of clergy and musicians has to struggle anew to keep ahead of the game, anticipating problems and finding solutions. This is how it always was and, presumably, always would be. Then, in 1991, something happened that few could have foreseen, which had no historical antecedents whatsoever and which cast an immediate question mark over the future of cathedral music. This something, of course, was the establishment of a girls' choir at Salisbury Cathedral. During the 1970s and early 1980s – or, perhaps, before - a few cathedrals in Scotland, Wales and Ireland had become mixed-voiced, and in England, two parish-church cathedrals, Bradford and Leicester, had been taken the same way. Then, at one point, the Organist at St Edmundsbury decided to mix the choir's top line. Seemingly, the Provost did not approve, and it was quickly unmixed! None of this tinkering on the fringe received much attention, but Salisbury was different. Here was one of the great medieval cathedrals of England, with a musical tradition it could trace back as far as 1258, making a deliberate decision to break with that tradition. This time people noticed – given the fanfare of publicity, they could hardly have done otherwise – but they said nothing. Either they failed to see where it would all lead to, or else they knew full well but lacked the courage of their convictions to speak out. Many, however, were convinced by the wild rejoicing and excited media hype which accompanied this radical departure from ancient custom that here was, indeed, a welcome innovation.
One person not taking part in the celebrations was Peter Giles, distinguished alto, Senior Lay Clerk at Canterbury, writer and authority on the alto voice. A year earlier, at the AGM of the Friends of Cathedral Music in Rochester, he had spoken at length on the obviously increasing dangers to that specific tradition which the members – presumably – had joined FCM to protect and save. He openly questioned FCM's seeming encouragement of girls' choirs, despite the inevitable dangers this posed to the choral tradition. His remarks largely fell on deaf ears, even when the opinion of Canon Ronald Sibthorp, the Founder of FCM, who was fatally ill, was read to the meeting. Giles explained how, unaware of Sibthorp's condition, he had written to him, begging him to attend and speak on the subject of girls being admitted to English cathedral choirs, and how Sibthorp had managed to telephone him, completely lucidly, but in obvious deep distress.
"It is all so very far from my original intention when I founded the FCM," Sibthorp's whisper had come weakly through the earpiece. He then added apologetically, "Unfortunately, I am not able to attend any more meetings. I am not even able to write any longer, which is why I have telephoned. I can only wish you luck, I'm afraid. I'm so sorry."
He died a short time later.
Giles continued to warn of the dangers. However, his was a lonely voice, scarcely heard amid the roars of approval for Salisbury's decision. From time to time, he managed to discuss the matter on radio, but he could get none of his writings on the subject published. However, in February 1993, a superb essay, Ichabod – the Glory is Departed – by Dr Bernarr Rainbow, celebrated musicologist and author of the seminal work, The Choral Revival in the Anglican Church, appeared as the opening article in the new magazine, Choir and Organ. Sub-headed 'A Fundamental Issue', it seems to have been the first ever published magazine article openly to discuss the threats to cathedral music, and to warn of the inevitable effect that girls in cathedral choirs would have on a tradition whose unique sound, repertoire and essential esprit de corps demanded the all-male choir. Letters in support of Dr Rainbow (some from future CTCC members) appeared in the next issue.
Nothing more happened. There was not the slightest indication that the very serious points raised by Giles and Rainbow were being given any thought. Indeed, several other cathedrals had already started making plans to follow where Salisbury had led. For a time, it looked as if the whirlwind changes might be implemented almost without dissent. However, far away mid the desert sands of Libya, Bernard Haunch, a former chorister, was writing a letter. In it, he was trying to explain to an American correspondent why he thought Salisbury's move a disaster. A little later, finding himself with time on his hands while staying in Italy, he thought that what he had written might make a suitable article for FCM's Cathedral Music. The editor agreed, and the article duly appeared in the November 1995 issue, under the title, Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang.. It regretted the admission of girls into cathedral choirs and foresaw, as a result, a bleak future awaiting the all-male choir tradition. Together, Rainbow and Haunch's articles formed the basis, or even credo, for the eventual establishment of what was to become Campaign for the Defence of the Traditional Cathedral Choir.
On reading Haunch's article, Giles wrote to him immediately. Shortly afterwards, they met in Haunch's office in London, together with one highly placed FCM official. Strategy was planned, though all three were aware of the uphill struggle facing them. However, they were determined not to allow the all-male choral tradition to disappear or be diminished without a fight. Fortunately, others who had read the article responded and were more than ready to sign up to whatever efforts were needed. Among those with whom we were in touch in those early days was Bernarr Rainbow. It was a great fillip to the cause when he agreed to become the first president of the fledgling organisation which was being formed. Roy Massey, the distinguished Organist and Master of the Choristers at Hereford Cathedral, had also reacted positively to Haunch's article. Eventually, he would lend his support by becoming one of the Campaign's vice-presidents. Slowly then, even though we were still without a name, a body of people prepared to fight for the cause was assembling.
Bernarr Rainbow's death in 1998 was a great blow to the Campaign so early in its life. However, the following year, we were delighted when Dr John Sanders, former Organist and Master of the Choristers at Gloucester Cathedral, agreed to take over the presidency. From the very start, he played a very active role in the work of the Campaign, guiding and providing wise counsel, so it was another severe blow for the Campaign when he succumbed to a fatal illness in 2003. Although we had attracted other eminent people to serve as vice-presidents (Professor Jonathan Harvey, Dame Ruth Railton and Michael Howard, former Organist and Master of the Choristers at Ely), the presidency remained vacant for quite some time. Happily, in 2008, fortune smiled on us once more when Dr Simon Lindley, Organist and Master of the Music of the famous Leeds Parish Church, accepted an invitation to become president.
From its very inception, the Campaign has managed to attract men and women from all walks of life and from all over the world. (Apart from the UK, there are members in the USA, Australia, Japan and Europe.) Many members are former choristers or have been connected in some way to cathedral music. Clearly, what the Campaign is saying reflects the very serious concerns of many people. To keep members informed and to provide a forum for public debate the Campaign began publishing a bi-annual bulletin and newsletter. As part of the campaigning, the bulletin was also sent out to cathedrals, and a concerted drive was undertaken to publicise the cause more widely by frequent appearance on radio and TV and in the printed media. The situation eventually progressed from a state of affairs where the issues surrounding cathedral choirs could hardly be mentioned in public to one where the Campaign's views were avidly and automatically solicited on a regular basis. They may still be rejected – after all, we have no power to dictate to deans and chapters – but they can no longer be simply ignored.
Given that it was frequently the case that Campaign members were also members of FCM, it seemed sensible, especially in the early days, to try and get FCM to use its considerable influence and financial resources to protect the tradition. Accordingly, in 1997, a debate on the question of the new girls' choirs was organised at Lichfield, with Richard Seal (Organist and Master of the Choristers at Salisbury Cathedral and the initiator of the girls' choir there) and Malcolm Archer (Organist and Master of the Choristers at Wells Cathedral) on one side and Peter Giles and Gordon Stewart (Organist and Master of the Choristers at Blackburn Cathedral) on the other. Bernard Haunch made a final summary of the case for keeping to tradition. The motion to be voted on was "FCM recognises that the advent of girl choristers in cathedrals may damage the traditional all-male choir. Accordingly, FCM will monitor developments and act appropriately".. The discussion was, in the words of one commentator "lively but not confrontational". In the end, members voted 102 to 22 in favour of the motion. From the very outset, the Campaign has sought to argue its case with lucidity but also with decency and charity. Thus, in the report in the Campaign's first newsletter, we remarked: "Richard Seal's name will be forever associated with the advent of cathedral girls' choirs, for it was he who had the flare and energy necessary to realise such an enterprise. Whilst opposing the movement, CDTCC salutes Richard Seal the man – as kindly and modest a person as one could ever wish to meet. The gentleness and sincerity with which he spoke at the Lichfield Forum endeared him to everyone there, and he was honest enough to admit that girls' choirs might well threaten the all-male tradition. He agreed that the situation needed monitoring."
Research is increasingly an important part of the Campaign's work – whether it is challenging academic studies which assert that the voices of boy and girl choristers cannot be told apart, finding out the views of cathedral organists on the state of cathedral music, establishing how many traditional choirs still survive or monitoring what goes on 'on the ground' in our cathedrals. Then there is the publicity necessary to attract new members and to alert the musical and general public both to the great glory of our traditional choirs and to the threats they face. We particularly wish our fellow countrymen to be alive to this great jewel of a tradition which, to our great good fortune, has managed to survive into our present age. At a time when so much is in question, it is surely something of which we, as a nation, can be inordinately proud. Our Objects are simple: to champion the all-male tradition of cathedral choirs and to lend support and encouragement to similar parish-church choirs. For some years, it was also one of our Objects 'to resist the introduction of women and girls on to these foundations, because this Campaign believes all such moves endanger the future of this unique tradition'.. Over the years, however, this was felt to be unhelpful to the cause. In no way was it meant to be meanly anti-women, but that, unfortunately, is how some outside the Campaign – a very few, in fact – interpreted it. The very name of the Campaign was also contentious for some, the word 'defence' being seen as somehow unhelpful. Accordingly, in 2005, the decision was taken to rename the organisation 'Campaign for the Traditional Cathedral Choir'..
Campaign members have an opportunity to meet twice a year when, apart from business, they can listen to concerts given by choirs of men and boys. In February 2008, for example, we were delighted to be guests at Winchester Cathedral, where the choir put on a superb concert for our members. There are also talks by a variety of speakers. Not only is all this a pleasant reward to members for their support, but it is an opportunity for the Campaign to show itself to cathedrals and others and to discuss matters of common interest.
The Campaign has been in business for almost twelve years now, during which time much has changed. Happily, demands for a change in repertoire have met with little success and the finest music continues to be sung. On the downside, there has been a huge increase in the numbers of cathedrals setting up girls' cathedral choirs. Although some cathedrals have made special provision for their new choirs, for others the additional expenditure has exacerbated the already parlous state of their finances. The situation does sometimes seem very dispiriting – there is no getting away from it. Nevertheless, we must go on with our work - to do otherwise is not an option. It is, therefore, a great encouragement to us all to know that we are not alone in our struggle to keep the 'most beautiful sound in the world' alive for generations to come. Our members and supporters are our most important asset, so it is entirely fitting to close this short account with a few of the words of encouragement they have sent us over the years: