The Legend of Zelda comes to Rome

The Legend of Zelda Day is celebrated throughout Nerdom on February 21st, the day on which the game in the golden cartridge was first released to the public in Japan in 1986 on the Nintendo Entertainment System. Even so, some of us here in the Eternal City will celebrate the Legend of Zelda Day early (or, perhaps, late) as we attend The Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses this evening in a one-time performance in Rome.

After following closely the devastating attacks in Paris Friday night (I was up until after 1:00 a.m. Saturday morning trying to discern what happened and didn't sleep well again last night), I am very much looking forward to this light-hearted and excellent audio and visual delight (I attended a performance in St. Louis just before returning to Rome).

If you are a fan of this video game series and the symphony comes to your area, I cannot recommend attending it enough. You won't be disappointed.

Nerding out at the symphony with Zelda in St. Louis- and Rome

When I returned to the mainland from my Hawaiian holiday in mid-September, a friend collected me at Lambert International Airport in St. Louis to take me to something of a nerdfest, as I think such things are called.

Just two hours after my flight was scheduled to land, a concert was to begin at Powell Hall of The Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses,  a symphonic presentation of some of the music from The Legend of Zelda video games through the years and on various systems.

It was an experience I was very much looking forward to, even though I have only played The Legend of Zelda and Zelda II: The Adventure of Link on the NES and The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on the SNES (I lost interest when the games left the overhead view). So much do I enjoy the Zelda video games that the main theme from the original The Legend of Zelda is the ringtone on my cell phone (which makes people smile whenever it rings).

What especially struck me about this performance was the composition of the audience. There were, perhaps, five empty seats at the concert I attended, one added to the schedule to an (unforeseen?) demand. The average age of those in attendance must have been between 25 and 28 and some 80% of the audience was male. Attendees were dressed in anything from good suits to shorts and t-shirts (of some relation to the games, of course!); some even dressed as characters from the games (more than I expected would do so). The general atmosphere was light-hearted and fun and the concert was most enjoyable.

Though the music came mostly from the newer games (that is, the games I have not played), I thoroughly enjoyed the concert because Koji Kondo, the composer of the music for the game series, has maintained certain themes throughout the series. That, and because corresponding images from the games were projected onto a screen above the orchestra. The concert brought back many happy memories from childhood.

As I watched my fellow Zelda fans file into their seats, it occurred to me that young people will attend concerts, if an orchestra or symphony plays music that they know and like. It seems I am not the only to take notice of this.

The Wall Street Journal recently published an article explaining how videogames are saving the symphony orchestra, with a special mention of The Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses, which performed last night on the Late Show with Stephen Colbert:

You can imagine my delight - and my surprise - when I saw this tweet from the symphony a few days ago:

Rome wasn't built in a day, but the Zelda Symphony will only be there for a day! We return to Italy on Nov. 15: http://t.co/eC6Yl7jVKM

— Zelda Symphony (@zeldasymphony) October 9, 2015

Naturally, I spread the word among the priests with whom I live and five of us will attend this concert here in the Eternal City (I bought the tickets earlier today). If you have the opportunity to attend this concert somewhere close to where you live, I highly recommend it.

A CD recommendation

If you're looking for a enjoyable CD to listen to you, let me recommend a little treasure I picked up at St. Francis church in Kalaupapa on the island of Molokai: A Tribute to Father Damien of Molokai.

The CD includes such pieces as the Hawaiian State anthem (written by King Kalakaua), Panis Angelicus, Christus Vincit and several hymns in Hawaiian in honor of the Blessed Virgin and of the Holy Trinity. The songs are sung by the St. Francis Choir, residents of the colony.

The singing is both beautiful and moving, and proceeds from the sales of the CD will go toward establishing a Father Damien Memorial Museum and Library in Honolulu.

Here is the song Ua Hiki Mai, a Communion hymn:



I have not managed to find the CD online; perhaps one of my Hawaiian readers can be of help here.

A musical treat

When a knight won his spurs in the stories of old
He was gentle and brave he was gallant and bold
With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand
For God and for valor he rode through the land

No charger have I, and no sword by my side
Yet still to adventure and battle I ride
Though back into storyland giants have fled
And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead

Let faith be my shield and let joy be my steed
Against the dragons of anger the ogres of greed
And let me set free with the sword of my youth
From the castle of darkness the power of the truth

Just for a day or two

Just for fun

Fake instruments at Mass

Some days ago, in a post discussing liturgical candles, Fr. V. at Adam’s Ale said:

Here’s the rule: in the interest of symbolism and authenticity it must be a wax candlestick. Period. (I wish we could do the same for “fake instruments.” But that’s just me.)

When first I read this, my initial thought was that “fake instruments” are forbidden, but I couldn’t call to mind any specific document where this is so. Consequently, I set to work.

There is a liturgical principle that we only use in worship what is authentic and truly worthy of the Lord.

In the recent document Sing to the Lord, the United States’ Bishops Committee on Divine Worship stated:

Recorded music lacks the authenticity provided by a living liturgical assembly gathered for the Sacred Liturgy. While recorded music might be used advantageously outside the Liturgy as an aid in the teaching of new music, it should not, as a general norm, be used within the Liturgy (91).

Immediately following, the Committee gives a couple of exceptions to this norm: outdoor processions, Masses with children (when “used carefully”), and communal penance services.

Very often, such “fake instruments” are recorded and played while the accompanist plays the “electronic keyboard” as a separate instrument. This would is forbidden, at least in the Diocese of the United States of America (save those few exceptions).

Though I’ve not been able to locate it, it still seems to me that there is a similar – and perhaps stronger – prohibition on recorded music – and, I believe, “fake instruments” – in a magisterial document. Can one of our astute readers offer help here?

Must have music

One of the few pleasures - it was a chilly, windy, rainy day - of arriving early at Yankee Stadium in New York City for the Papal Mass was the pre-Mass Concert of Hope. It was comprised of organ pieces with lots of Handel and various musical groups performing.

I was introduced to a boys' choir from England - it seems the best singers all are - called Libera. They are outstanding!

I had sitting in my desk drawer several coupons for free CDs from a music company - you know, the buy one get ten free kind - so I ordered four of their CDs and have been extremely satisified.
I think this group might even sing a song or two on the soundtrack of the movie Millions (which is also very good), but I haven't checked that yet.

Here is Libera singing my favorite of their songs - Sanctus - in New York City:



Listening to them it's very easy to understand why choirs for the first many centuries of the Church were comprised of only boys. The world needs more choirs of their caliber!

The music of Fr. Kent O'Conner

A few weeks' ago I ordered two CDs of Fr. Kent O'Conner, a priest of the Archdiocese of Kansas City in Kansas. Fr. Kent was a year or two ahead of me in the seminary.

His first CD, The Musical of Tobit, is a light-hearted musical based on the book of the same name and is a delight. I think it might be a good musical for a Catholic school to perform some time.

Fr. Kent says this musical

is a fun and lively take on the "Book of Tobit" from the Old Testament of the Bible. "Tobit" is a rather unknown book in the Bible, and, in fact, it isn't even in all Bibles. It is one of those seven books of the Bible that appear in Catholic (and Anglican, I'm told) Bibles but not in Protestant Bibles. It sometimes can be found in a special section called "The Apocrypha." The story is kind of an adventure story. It is about a son being sent off to a faraway land to retrieve his father's fortune. Along the way he meets an angel in disguise, he casts a demon out of a woman, he gets married (to that same woman), and discovers the cure to his father's blindness. Everything finishes well in the end, and the story ultimately ends up being about God's Providence.

This CD is the "soundtrack" or the "original studio recording" of the musical. There are a variety of styles on the CD. For a little bit of bluegrass, try track 9, "Come on In," or for some good ol' rock 'n' roll, try "Media-Country" (track 6). There's also the toe-tappin' "Father to Son" (track 5) and what I call a "demonic tango" in track 11, "This is the Night." If ballads are more your thing, you might check out track 14, "Worry Not, My Sweet One," or track 3, "He Does This All the Time." People have told me that they also really like track 2, "Hello, My Friends," but I'm not sure in which style to classify that one. I'd like to think that there's a little something for everybody.

In his second CD, Saints, Fr. Kent has put writings of certain saints to music, including the "little way" of Saint Therese of Lisieux and the "late have I loved you" of Saint Augustine of Hippo. This is a splendid CD.

Of this CD, Fr. Kent says:

I think that sometimes people think of “the saints” as a kind of conglomerate of boring, holy people. That “the saints” are a bunch of people who spent their lives staring up to heaven and had no real personalities of their own. But nothing could be further than the truth. The saints lived real flesh-and-blood lives, and each had his or her unique personality.

This collection of saints is hopefully a good look into the diversity of the saints, and how each saint is quite unique. In this collection, there’s a mother who so loved her child she died for her (Gianna Molla), there’s a once-public sinner who laments his wasted youth (Augustine), there’s a teenager who wants to be a Jesuit more than anything (John Berchmans), there’s a man who laid down his life for a near stranger (Maximillian Kolbe), and there’s a guy who loves a good laugh (Philip Neri).

I recommend both CDs to you for your listening pleasure.

Where did the closing song go?

Some parishes in Lent do away with the closing hymn at Mass on Sundays, which leaves many wondering if this is appropriate.

It should first be noted that the closing song, unlike the opening (cf. General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 47), is not actually a part of the Mass, so there is no prohibition against omitting it.

The recent document of the Committee on Divine Worship of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Sing to the Lord: Music in Catholic Worship, says of the concluding song, “Other options include a choral or instrumental piece or, particularly during Lent, silence” (199).

This document contains guidelines and suggestions for the Mass and this particular suggestion is one suggestion with which I respectfully disagree (and you may disagree with me), the reason of which I will discuss shortly.

Turning first, though, to the concluding rites, the GIRM says that these consist of:

a. Brief announcements, if they are necessary;
b. The priest’s greeting and blessing, which on certain days and occasions is enriched and expressed in the prayer over the People or another more solemn
formula;
c. The dismissal of the people by the deacon or the priest, so that each may go out and do good works, praising and blessing God;
d. The kissing of the altar by the priest and the deacon, followed by a profound bow to the altar by the priest, the deacon, and the other ministers (90).

What we do not find in the concluding rites is any mention whatever of a closing chant/hymn/song.

When it is done, therefore, its primary – and perhaps only real and significant - purpose is simply to get the priest out of the sanctuary; it is a bit of “traveling music,” as it were (which I greatly appreciate, presuming the song is good).

(I tell my high school students that they can tell how well I like the closing song – normally speaking – by how long I remain at the presidential chair before reverencing the altar.)

But even if the closing song is only travelling music, it has been so frequently used that many Catholics do not have any idea what to do when it is not done and begin chatting away, silence being something of an enemy in contemporary culture. Especially in groups, people seem unable to remain silent for more than fifteen seconds (that’s about as long as it takes for someone to cough).

Some will complain that people begin leaving before the priest if a song is not sung. Technically, there is nothing wrong with this. When you are dismissed, you are dismissed. The deacon does not say, for example, “Go in the peace of Christ, once Father has left.”

But if people are so used to - and comfortable with - a closing song, why do some parishes remove it during the season of Lent and let the priest process out in silence?

Most will do so to highlight the penitential character of the Lenten season. Highlighting this aspect of Lent is, of course, praiseworthy but there are other and more effective ways to do so (through simpler music, not less [cf. GIRM, 313]; through preaching on prayer, fasting and almsgiving; by draping the statues, etc.). I would question the usefulness of seeking to do so by removing a closing song.

Even if the purpose of removing it – and the reminder that it isn’t actually part of the Mass – is well explained, the point rarely seems to hit home in a typical parish setting.

The absence of the closing song seems to make people more uncomfortable than anything else, priest and ministers included, which may or may not help them recognizing the penitential nature of the season (for the some, the song would be more helpful!).

As a priest I can tell you that there are few things more uncomfortable than having to walk by crowds of people unaccompanied by anything (because they simply stare at you), except incensing the altar unaccompanied because the musicians aren’t paying attention (because everybody wonders what’s taking the priest so long).

My experience has shown that silent recessions do not have the desired effect very often. Besides, the Liturgy is not so much about changing people’s moods – it welcomes the faithful in whatever mood (which is why a proper celebration of the Liturgy is rather sober) - as it is about the encounter with Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. Even if it is Lent, it is still Sunday and is therefore still a celebration of the Lord’s Resurrection, even if not to the fullest extent possible.

If a parish does not use a closing song on Sunday’s during Lent a closing song should not be used during the weekdays of Lent, either, even if the Mass is for the grade school.

I would be very happy if a congregation could appreciate the beauty – even if uncomfortable – of a silent recession. But let us be honest: most congregations are not ready yet. Before we try this we should try to help people listen more attentively to the Scriptures and to appreciate silence within the Mass more than outside of it.

We ought to remember that traveling music is very important and should not be neglected, especially considering society today. Even if the closing chant/hymn/song is not technically a part of the Liturgy, it is very useful and practical and of benefit most everywhere (though I will naturally admit exceptions).