Chapter 3: The Sound of Durham Cathedral
VII. The Unity of Sound
Over the course of this chapter, I have looked to understand the sonic relationship which exists between Durham Cathedral and its community, from the Benedictine monks of Durham Cathedral Priory to the present today. Whilst others have focused on the developing liturgy33 and music,34 and the use of sacred space within Durham Cathedral,35 I have focused upon the direct aural link between community and architecture and the resulting relationship. In doing so, it is clear that the community has long maintained an understanding of the acoustic properties of the building in which they worship.
As I stated earlier, the true origins of Gregorian chant are unclear,36 though its attributes allow the singer to work with the architecture that was emerging across Europe from the ninth century onwards. This was particularly important as technology advanced and the main building materials became stone, replacing wooden structures, the older wooden structures being both smaller and acoustically kinder, with the wood absorbing much of the sound. However, with the stone edifices, which were replacing them, having much longer reverberation lengths, the development of Gregorian chant emerged as a style to deal with this issue. As Bagenal and Wood (1931:226) suggest, the acoustic properties of such buildings create, through their nature, a particular kind of music. Such relationships have developed ever since, with the composers gaining an understanding of the architecture in which their compositions or ‘settings’ were to be set.
33See Kennedy D. (2015) 34 See Crosby (2015)
35 See Doig with Sadgrove (2015) 36 See Hiley (2009)
Today the use of technology within the building means that Gregorian chant is no longer necessary for the words to be carried to the back of the nave, with the Ministers simply using microphones. Yet whilst the use of new technology in the ancient building has reduced the need for chant, it has not ended the relationship. Through numerous conversations with members of the Cathedral choir, and visitors alike, it became apparent that even today the importance of the relationship was still fully understood and appreciated. This was echoed during an interview with Canon Lancelot when he explained that there is ‘a marriage of architecture and music’ (Recording, 28th January
2014). In recognition of this continuing and ever developing relationship, Canon Lancelot explained an important aspect of Durham Cathedral’s recent history and the impact it has had on the sound of the Cathedral.
The Cathedral is very receptive. One of the things it has, as a building, taken to itself, into its stonework very happily and quite unusually, is brass band playing. The Cathedral is emblematic, it’s an icon in the community, and this community for so long was about coal mining. In a sort of solidarity of relaxing together, they came up with this wonderful tradition of brass band playing, and it is only right that they did, and still do come along, and offer that into the Cathedral. It was a part of their life and vision, and so every year particularly at the Miners’ Gala and at other times, you get these brass bands coming and playing at the Cathedral and they sound wonderful in there, and I just feel, in just the same way as the monks’ plainsong has soaked into the stone, so too has brass band music soaked into the building (Recording, 28th January 2014).
What is clear is that both the monks and those who perform in the Cathedral today understand that the walls of the Cathedral have the potential to be powerful instruments (Rasmussen 1964:230) when fully utilised. It is not simply through standing in a particular space that one is able to achieve the full potential of both the building and one’s voice, but through entering into a dynamic relationship with the architecture. As a result, the rich tones and ringing reverberation that add great strength and depth to the voice of the singer are not simply added to the sound, but are a part of the sound as a result of this relationship.
Returning to the Cathedral some months after the end of my fieldwork to give a seminar related to this chapter to students of the Durham University Anthropology department, I asked Deryck, a member of the Men’s choir, to give a demonstration on the difference between the spoken voice, and singing within the quire. Listening to
Deryck as he read aloud a psalm, his voice ringing messily around the cavernous expanse before chanting the same psalm, the juxtaposition between the two and the relationship he maintained with the building became clear. Whilst the spoken psalm washed around, individual words indistinguishable from one another, his chanting became crisp and clearly understood. Sitting in the opposite quire stalls to Deryck, as he stood in his personal stall37, those attending the seminar smiled and nodded in agreement with regard to the clarity of Deryck’s chanting, with one commenting, ‘It’s totally different, I couldn’t understand a word he spoke, but when he sang it was really clear, but it was like the sound was only partly coming from him and the rest from the building’ (Fieldnotes, February, 2015).
As Deryck’s own comments suggest, following his demonstration, there are two important aspects of his relationship to consider. The first is that whilst the relationship between the singer and the building may not be apprehended on a fully conscious level, it is nonetheless still existent. Although he had not acknowledged the relationship on a conscious level, through the process of talking about his role as a singer, he became aware that he does in fact maintain a subconscious awareness and understanding of the building and his body’s position within it. Secondly, as Pallasmaa (2012) argues, our experience of architecture is a bodily one, incorporating all of our senses at once, and not one sense and then another, so too is Deryck’s performance within the Cathedral. As he sings, he maintains an awareness of his body’s position in relation to the building as well as those around him, adjusting both his body and performance in response.
You know, it’s a funny thing, as a singer I’m obviously consciously tied up with the egotistical parts of my performance, you know, how did I do, how did I sound. But actually, as I was giving my demonstration and through listening to you speak about sound and the architecture, I suddenly became aware that actually you’re right. There are all manner of things that I am aware of. As I am singing, I have an eye on Canon Lancelot as he guides us [the choir] through the music, I’m listening to my colleagues beside me, constantly adjusting the level of my voice to fit with them, but I am also adjusting myself to the building too, I’m positioning my body in such a way as to project my voice out into the building at the correct angle. I’m also listening to the building and my voice returning back to me, listening to its sound, and adjusting myself further to fit
37Each member of the choir maintains their own stall position which helps the sound of the choir to remain balanced.
with what I’m hearing come back to me from the walls as it’s mixed with the other voices. It really is an odd thing, because I was never really aware of the fact that I was doing it, but now that you are talking about it and as I was singing, I was suddenly aware of myself doing all of these things, it’s like I am suddenly more aware of my position within the Cathedral (Fieldnotes, February 2015).