improvisation

Hymns come in a variety of musical and textual styles. Yet often hymns are sung blandly, with no regard to their variety. The following article describes how hymns can be sung creatively, how the differences in hymns can be reflected in how they are sung, and how this approach can increase the potential for expressing the textual and musical ideas contained in a given hymn.

The fact that a hymnal contains some 1500 years of musical, poetic, and theological expressions of faith should be argument enough against boredom ever setting in upon hymn singing. The situation in many congregations, however, is that people have come not to expect much musical satisfaction from their own congregation’s hymn singing. The singing of many congregations is characteristically gray: not too fast, not too slow, not too loud, not too soft, and, often, not too interesting. In spite of our low expectations for music in our churches, we still hang on to the belief that singing together is one of the most important things we do when we come together to worship.

It is increasingly apparent that greater attention must be paid to the ways in which we sing in worship. We must resist the ease of singing every hymn as if it had been written in the same style, thus making all hymns and all languages generic. With the availability of recorded sound, it is not difficult, even for those who have had little or no formal education in music, to surround themselves with sounds of medieval Christian singing, mountain shape-note hymn singing, and percussion-and-dance-accompanied African hymns. These source materials are readily available; it is incumbent upon those who are responsible for music to lead their congregation to experience all these musical languages.

In paying attention to the distinctive qualities of the musical languages contained in a hymnal, variation in the sounds of our singing is already addressed. Variety for its own sake has no particular value in worship, but for reasons of textual and musical expressivity, it has much to offer. However, one needs to approach the use of variation cautiously, being certain that there is reason for introducing variation, using it as one uses seasonings in cooking—a small amount to enhance the flavor of the whole dish.

Caring for the subtleties of the languages suggests cultural and historical sensitivity, and will of itself create a varied sound for congregational song. Ideas from the poetry may also suggest ways of varying the sound which will more clearly communicate the text. Ignoring the characteristics of the sonorities included in a hymnal reflects a deafness to the movings of the Spirit in sounds other than those to which our ears have grown accustomed, and the implication is that God’s praises and our praying and proclamation are heard only when their sound matches our assumptions about sacred sound.

Ultimately the importance of care for the sounds of our singing is that the intention of music is to demand that the ear pay attention. Meister Eckhart said that it is the eye through which we see God and through which God sees us. Likewise, it may well be the ear through which we hear God, and through which God hears us. The gift of sound is a sacred gift of the Creator; it ought to be handled and used with respect. When the gamut of music, from Gregorian chant to contemporary Christian hymnody and from African music to chorales, is allowed its full expression in worship, music becomes an important means by which we know God, the giver of this priceless gift. If one listens carefully, one may hear not only the beauty of the music itself, but may also hear beyond the music, and there discover something of the eternal made audible.

Questions for Reflection

Those who lead music in the congregation must assume responsibility for the sound of all the music which is used in worship. For congregational music, there are questions that we may ask of a hymn concerning its nature. For example, a first question should be: what is its origin? Is the original context for this psalm tune an intimate group of singers who wanted parts written so that they could enjoy the fellowship of singing and playing them together in their homes? What might have been the nature of an outdoor or tent-revival setting with a large group of singers who were enthusiastic and responsive to the spontaneity of the moment? Where might this spiritual have been sung, and what might the singers have been doing when they sang it?

As one begins to ask questions of the origin of our hymns, one begins to imagine differentiated sounds; matters of dynamics, tempo, and articulation begin to make themselves apparent. The fine print on the page, either above the hymn or below the hymn, can give the first clues about where to look for more help. Nowadays, most hymnals have handbooks that provide a great deal of historical information about the places and times from which our hymns come.

A second question, nearly as important as the first, is: what is the primary musical element of the melody? Alice Parker, in her many fine workshops on hymn singing, often asks people to identify in order of importance the elements of melody, rhythm, and harmony as they sing a hymn tune. The ordering is not so much to find a “right” answer but to explore the nature of melodies. Some tunes may, on different occasions, have a differing ordering of the elements. The link between this quick analysis and the singing of the hymn itself is that one’s understanding of the inherent nature of the melody will affect questions of tempo, dynamics, and articulation. If a hymn is primarily a “melody” tune, then the lyricism of that hymn will likely receive first attention. If the hymn is primarily a “rhythm” tune, the physical, dance-like elements will suggest how the hymn could be sung or moved. If the hymn is primarily a “harmony” tune, then time will be required to allow the harmonies to sound.

The broader question in which this discussion finds a home is this: to what aspect of our singing (or playing) is the appeal of this hymn directed? For the singer in the congregation, a giving over of one’s self to the hymn is a necessary element of the circle that unites the composer, poet, sound, thought, and the singer. This surrender can occur, completely apart from one’s private tastes, as easily and naturally in the abstract coolness of Gregorian chant as in the concrete heat of danced African hymns. Those who lead, be it from a keyboard, with the assistance of a choir, or with the voice, are called upon to be a shepherd of the sound which their congregations are asked to create in worship. Those who lead must sing and play responsibly in order to let the congregation know, without long spoken instructions, the kind of sound into which they are invited to sing. Their responsibility is to set the sound in the room in motion and do so in such a way that the singers of the congregation will find their surrendered energies worthy of their time and their spiritual devotion. Those who lead must lead with courage and patience and encouragement, like a shepherd who senses the immediate needs of the flock, and they must, also like a shepherd, lead us to fresh water and green pastures and allow us to experience that better place.

A third question, never separable from the first two, is one of context: what is the occasion, the moment for which this hymn is being sung? Here complex links between text and music come into play, the sung text being significantly different from either text or music. Connections between the hymn and other ideas and moments of the service add other important considerations. The juxtaposition of a hymn next to what precedes or follows it must also be kept in mind so that the parts of a service form a community of relationships rather than a sequence of interesting events. These considerations are the truly difficult aspects of choosing hymns for worship, rather severely summarized by the question: Why choose this hymn for this moment anyway?

Beyond questions of sensitivity to the various characteristics of the musical and poetic languages represented in a hymnal, the increasing quantity of musical styles produces other points of stress as they seek to find a place in our corporate worship. It comes as a great relief to many people to experience worship in which different styles of music have found a comfortable home. One may choose to bless or to curse diversity, which seems to be the disposition of our time. For those who bless it, diversity can be a wonderful enrichment of our worship experience, analogous to walking around to another side of a free-standing sculpture and experiencing the same thing from a differing point of view. Most any style of music can find appropriate space in worship if, in the planning of worship, those who lead can imagine the contribution of a specific sound to a moment of time in worship. Completely contrasting styles of music have been used successfully juxtaposed next to each other because each has contributed to the integrity of the other. The use of differing styles for the sake of making sure that everyone’s individual tastes are satisfied rarely contributes to the wholeness of worship. The important questions to raise about any music of any style in worship are: what does this music contribute to the point of worship at which it will occur, and how does this music affect and relate to the other elements of worship which immediately surround it?

One of the richest and most playful sources for introducing variation into a congregation’s music is in the textures of hymn singing. If we were randomly to ask people on the street to describe the sound of congregational singing, they would likely (after suggesting that it’s not particularly interesting) identify elements of a melody, a supporting harmony, usually with an accompaniment of an organ. Various denominations have their own individualized versions of this stereotype, but everyone knows what congregational singing sounds like! Our hearing, as well as the ears of our souls, can be awakened and quickened now and then by varying the textures of the congregational sound. The choices of when to introduce textural variation will respect the musical language of the hymn and will support and illuminate ideas from the text. Here are some possibilities:

Some Practical Applications

1. It is not necessary that all voices sing all the time in all stanzas, either in unison or in parts. There are many ways of varying the sound, based on which voices sing: women, or men, or children, or one section of the congregation, or solo and congregation combinations (a time-honored, inter-cultural way of singing), or choir and congregation combinations, to mention several choices. For example, there are times when a stanza might cry out for the sound of children’s voices; they ought to be allowed to make such a contribution to worship. The choices must be made to support the nature of the hymn text. Invariably, the part of the congregation which does not sing while others sing a stanza hears the hymn with different ears, ears that are invited to hear something very familiar in a new way. This not singing during a stanza is different from sitting out for a stanza. Neither is this an arbitrary matter or an exercise in symmetry such that a men’s stanza must be balanced by a women’s stanza. An important contribution to the repertoire of the choir and congregational hymn settings is the hymn concertato. An arrangement of a hymn for choir, instrumental accompaniment, and congregation, a hymn concertato gives everyone the opportunity to add their own color to the experience. These are usually festive and rich settings of hymns and could become wearisome with overuse. But for an occasional bold stroke of color in a service, little exceeds the effect of a hymn concertato. It would come as a surprise to many singers in the congregation if only one stanza of a hymn were selected for singing at some point in a service. Or, it would signal to the worshipers that the time is running late, and they must cut out something to gain a few minutes! Johann Sebastian Bach used single stanzas of hymns powerfully at the conclusion of his cantatas. His selection of a single stanza from among many choices of the hymns which were familiar to his congregation succinctly summarizes the entire cantata’s exposition and proclamation of the gospel for the day.
2. The number of parts need not be restricted to four. Many hymns, without any additions, make lovely two-part textures. Three-part harmonies, a common feature of many of the early singing school books, work well in many instances. In the singing school books, the tenors sang the melody, the basses sang the bass line, and all the women sang the tenor line an octave higher as a descant to the melody. Many folk hymns, psalm tunes, and eighteenth-century hymns work well this way. To ask women to sing all four parts or men to do likewise offers additional color. One can increase the number of parts by having men’s and women’s voices double each others’ lines. Switching voice parts is another choice. Antiphonal and responsorial singing, both ancient ways of singing, might aid in calling attention to the structure of the poetry or the music of a hymn. These are all choices for the singers of the congregation. Most congregations have instrumentalists among their numbers who could further enrich the choices of sounds. In all cases, the point of variety is not for the sake of variety itself, but rather for helping worshipers hear what they sing with attentive ears and souls.
3. The old techniques of canon, pedal, and ostinato, characteristic of much of the folk music of the world, are useful in worship as well. Pentatonic melodies work as canons; some of the current hymnals include listings of hymns that can be sung in canon. If one is not sure about a hymn’s usefulness as a canon, one should try it in the company of a few friends before the congregation is asked to try it! The sustained singing of one pitch (a pedal) to support the singing of a melody requires a different kind of attention to the sound—the tension between the changing pitches and the one fixed pitch creates an aural awareness which, for its simplicity, produces profoundly moving effects. The addition of ostinatos (simple repeated patterns of rhythm or melody or harmony) can also lend a wonderful vitality to the singing of some hymns.
4. Another very old musical device, improvisation, has been temporarily lost for many of us because we have heeded the Western push toward a more exact notation of music and to doing things correctly. Improvisation is not a lost art in many of the folk cultures of the world and is indeed the way in which much music continues to be created, in the near or complete absence of notation. Those of us who “read” music would do well to recover the ability to improvise. The connection between the spirit and the sound that is so critical to the whole art of music cannot be notated. To learn only the notation gives us partial knowledge of the art and craft of music.

Improvisation, contrary to what many might think, is not simply doing whatever one feels like. Those who improvise well work very hard to achieve a polished and satisfying level of improvisation. In the setting of congregational music, there are opportunities for many to add their own little improvisations: melodic ornaments, harmonic elaborations, conversational elements, or percussive unpitched play with sounds from the text. This is essentially the way many of us sing in the shower when we think no one can hear us! Not all hymns lend themselves equally to improvisations, for some hymns need to be sung more or less exactly as they were notated.

Improvisation is play. It is play with the elements already contained in or suggested by a tune. The ear will become a reliable guide, helping us as we improvise to find that which is appropriate to the particular style. First attempts at improvisation will of course be timid, but with time, both courage and imagination will develop satisfying and rewarding ways of singing hymns for which improvisation is in order. The freedom which is granted to the singer in the pew to add something of his or her own invention may seem very small in many respects, but it goes a long way to offer encouragement to all to sing according to the nature of the gifts they have been given.

There are a nearly infinite number of ways of accompanying hymns that can introduce vitality into our hymn singing. The organ is not, of course, the only instrument that should accompany hymns, but it does have within its power and at the hands of skilled players an enormous range of choices and colors. It is often surprising that with so many choices available, there still seems to be a standard generic sound for accompanying the singing of the congregation. The Psalms are filled with references to rich sounds of strings (bowed and plucked), brasses and winds, and percussion instruments for music in worship. Our music ought to be no less barren in its sound. In our day, with the significantly increased access to hymns from the international Christian community in modern hymnals, we ought to broaden the choices of sounds for accompaniments to include the glorious instrumental colors of Hispanic and African and Asian, and Native American sources. As we learn to worship surrounded by this musical wealth of the world, we learn indeed that the gospel is greater than culture, that knowing and experiencing God need not be restricted to the harmonic or pitch systems of the West or the rational thought patterns of the post-Renaissance era.

With so many choices for varying the sounds of our hymn singing, there is no reason why anyone should ever become bored. To worship in an environment that calls upon the quality and the significance of every sound honors its Creator and brings us all into that place where, as when Solomon dedicated the temple and the ark was brought in, the “house of the Lord was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God.” To settle for less is not enough.