Another of my favorite English carols is “The Holly and the Ivy”—the roots of which reach pagan times. Here is King’s College Chapel, Cambridge:
[The original but now defunct video was of Winchester Cathedral.] Like most English cathedrals, Winchester Cathedral is quite lovely. Jane Austen is buried there.
The lyrics are . . .
The holly and the ivy,
Now both are full well grown.
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.
Oh, the rising of the sun,
The running of the deer.
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the quire.
The holly bears a blossom
As white as lily flower;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To be our sweet Savior.
The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good.
The holly bears a prickle
As sharp as any thorn;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
On Christmas day in the morn.
The holly bears a bark
As bitter as any gall;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
For to redeem us all.
The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.
When I was studying at the Sorbonne, I frequently had bouts of homesickness, which I would treat in various ways. Sometimes, I would go to see an American film in the original language at the cinema; at other times, I would stroll past an American establishment, like the American Embassy. I even took trips to La Défense to surround myself with the lifeless forms of modern architecture, which reminded me of American cities. Yes, the dog returns to its vomit.
My cultural nostalgia even prompted me sometimes to visit an English-speaking Protestant church in Paris—the American Cathedral of the Holy Trinity. I was there once for a Christmas concert when I heard the Anglican carol, “Once in Royal David’s City.” Though I had never heard it before, I immediately fell in love with it.
Though confused about so many things, you have to credit the Anglicans with a great sense of style. A discontinued video that I had posted earlier featured Saint George’s Chapel, in Windsor, England. My brother Adam and I attended an evensong service there once in the choir (quire). It was clearly the most beautiful Protestant service that I have ever attended. It must have struck Adam, as well, as he told me afterward that he had never witnessed a mass so beautiful.
Adam had not experienced many French masses, though. I think that while the English have the loveliest Protestant services, the French perform mass in the most solemn, beautiful manner. As far as Orthodoxy is concerned, some might charge me with phyletism when I, without hesitation, claim that the Russians worship the best. Well, they do . . .
(The replacement video is from the Chapel at King’s College in Cambridge. Adam and I visited it, as well, and we loved Cambridge.)
In high school, when I first began to explore pre-modern music outside of church services, I became a fan of the women’s chant and polyphony group, Anonymous 4. If you are not familiar with medieval or Renaissance Western music, you will still find them somewhat familiar due, I think, to Christmas and hymnal traditions that have preserved a bit of that sound in our contemporary culture. Anonymous 4’s work is astoundingly beautiful. English speakers frequently abuse the adjective “angelic” but it suits the music of Anonymous 4 very well.
I highly recommend their albums. I love them all, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would probably be Miracles of Sant’iago: Music from the Codex Calistinus. On Harmonia Mundi’s web site, you can listen to samples of their recordings.
Here is “Congaudeant Catholici” from their Miracles of Compostela:
If you like Anonymous 4, you may wish to explore other medieval and Renaissance works, as well. You ought then to consider the works of William du Fay, Josquin des Prez, and Giovanni da Palestrina, which are relatively easy to find and quite remarkable. Below is “Ave Maris Stella” by William du Fay.
The West has its splendor. I wonder if it can retain it.
One of my favorite liturgical pieces is Αγνή Παρθένε, “O Pure Virgin,” by Saint Nectarius of Aegina:
Sublime.