Part Three: "A first step"

[With the Celviano hybrid piano], we have developed something entirely new… which is a first step. (From the CEO of the Bechstein piano company in this video.)

What are the long-term prospects for the flagship pianos: the nine-foot Steinway D concert grand (list price: about $150,000), the Yamaha CFX ($180,000), the Bösendorfer Imperial ($250,000)?

What are the prospects for the somewhat smaller 6’11” Steinway B and its cousins of various sizes from Steinway and other builders? Will this be the “next step?” for the hybrid builders?

The answer may turn on the function of such instruments. The concert grands are almost always purchased by institutions, and such a piano on the main stage is a statement that “we are important.” But $150,000 (and up) is a lot of money, and music is a low priority for most schools. When will some budget-strapped college take the leap and put a Yamaha N3 on stage?

More to the point: Can the best of the hybrids be the solo instrument for a piano concerto with the top-level orchestras of the world, and the top concert artists? Can they do the job for chamber music, again with world-class performers? Can they satisfy pianists whose career is on the line, and their fellow musicians, collaborators in music such as Schubert’s song cycle Winterreise, the Brahms violin sonatas, Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time?

Here, I draw on my experience in church music and organ. The “king of instruments” has for decades faced the challenge of electronic substitutes, starting with the Hammond. Pipe organs are an order of magnitude more expensive than even the flagship pianos. They make large demands on the architecture of any space they will occupy – and sometimes dominate, visually and aurally. They are immobile. Many of them are as much at the mercy of electronic component failures as the lowliest electric “keyboard.” The electronic builders, such as Allen, are reaping the benefits of computer technology just like the makers of electronic and hybrid pianos. And they are doing good work, but their best customized work is almost as expensive as a similar pipe organ. Despite the disadvantages and expense of pipe organs, the electronics have not driven them from the field and there is no evidence that this will change anytime soon.

One reason that the pipe organs have maintained their place is this: I have yet to hear an electronic organ that supports congregational singing as well as even a modest-sized pipe organ, such as our Pilcher – if it is a quality instrument. This last is important, for there are many pipe organs that are not much good, especially from some of the “factory” builders of the mid-twentieth century, and I would take an Allen over such an organ any day. And there are many acoustic pianos that are not much good, including quite a few grand pianos. I have been comparing the Yamaha and Casio hybrids to the best of the grand pianos and finding it a tossup. Given the choice between the hybrid and a used (or new) piano that was never of high quality, the choice would be obvious: go with the better sound, the better action feel, and that would be with the hybrids.

There seems to be something about the sound that comes from a good pipe organ that blends with the human voice in a way that the electronic sounds from speakers – even the large arrays of speakers scattered through the room that one finds in top-level electronic installations – cannot match.

That makes me wonder how a hybrid piano would sound with, say, the Cleveland Orchestra. I would be very interested in the answer to that. [Edited in August 2018 to add: Hybrid pianos revisited]

My closest personal experience for comparison would be from graduate school, when our choir sang with the New York Philharmonic. On one occasion we sang in Carnegie Hall, a space that does not have a pipe organ (neither does their “home,” Avery Fisher Hall – now “David Geffen Hall,” after they sold the name to the highest bidder in 2014: price tag, $100 million). The program began with the Berlioz Te Deum, which has a large and important organ part. Leonard Raver on an Allen electronic did his best (and, given the setting, the Allen people surely did their best as well), but in passages such as the beginning of that piece, where organ and orchestra trade off fortissimo chords, the Allen was clearly the loser. It was sufficiently loud, but sounded cheap and tinny in comparison with the orchestra, and in the tuttis, the organ sound, loud as it was, entirely disappeared under the orchestra and chorus [“Cheap and tinny” does not apply to this performance from King’s College, Cambridge, but it shows how important the organ part is to the piece.]

That was thirty-five years ago, but even then the electronic builders were claiming their instruments were equal to the best pipe organs. When played solo, they sounded pretty good; it was only in a situation such as that poor outclassed instrument in Carnegie Hall, or a church organ with a vigorous congregation singing, that their limitations became obvious.

Pipe organ (and traditional piano) technology have not changed much since then while the electronics have made great strides, thanks most of all to massively improved computing power for sampling and signal processing. But I would bet that an electronic organ in Carnegie Hall would still disappear under an orchestral tutti.

I would guess – and it is no more than that – that compared to any of the “flagship” concert grands that I named, the Yamaha N3 hybrid would likewise fall short in a pianistic equivalent such as the beginning of Beethoven’s “Emperor” concerto.

But not by much.

The best I could tell, with the volume turned all the way up the N3 and Casio hybrids have exactly the same loudness as a large grand piano, vigorously played – and that is enough to balance a symphony orchestra. I think that the sound quality would be close enough to fool most of a concert audience. The visuals of the pianist sitting at what is hardly twice the size of a little spinet – as opposed to a nine-foot black ebony piano, its lid up – would be dismaying, and that alone might be enough to keep the hybrids at bay. For now.

The lockdown of “Steinway Artists” is also a factor. Most of the concert pianists in America are on that list, and they are bound by contract to play only Steinway pianos. But there are plenty of Yamaha Artists, especially in Asia. One of them might give it a try – perhaps at first in concert with a lower-tier orchestra in a hall without a quality piano. Again, I would very much like to hear the result.

Quality mid-sized grands like the Steinway B will continue to be demanded by piano faculty for their teaching studios and for school auditoriums and other venues where a full-scale concert grand would be a bit much. One example would be our parish church. I lead our weekly “middle” service from our Steinway Model L. It does not support congregational singing in the same manner as the Pilcher organ across the way, but when played with intelligence it does a good job in its own way. Would the N3 hybrid do as well? Again, I do not know.

My guess would be that again, it would fall short of our Steinway, but not by much. I am confident that it would surpass the large majority of church pianos in this role – probably ninety percent or more of them, from my experience -- and I would encourage a church that is seeking a piano to give the hybrids a serious look and listen, perhaps a “test-drive” if that can be arranged.

For a church, one factor that would favor an acoustic piano is the longer view. In the previous posting, I noted that I will not be playing the piano in fifty or sixty years. But at the church, I would hope that someone is. I doubted whether the hybrid pianos would still be usable that far down the road; our Steinway is over a century old, and there is no reason why it will not be viable when it is two centuries old, if it is cared for properly and rebuilt a couple of times along the way. The same goes for mechanical action pipe organs, whose enemies in the long run are most often war, fires and other natural disasters, and change of fashion – not irreparable breakdown of the instrument on its own account. The potential longevity of pianos and organs of traditional construction – and other instruments, such as quality violins, many of them centuries old – is a significant incentive for a church to purchase the best instruments and then take care of them. In the long run, that is good stewardship, better than buying something new every few decades. For a piano in the main worship space, I would counsel: Save up the money, seek donations over whatever length of years that it takes, and buy a Steinway or Yamaha acoustic grand, of a size suitable to the worship space. Or consider a quality rebuilt piano, such as the ones sold by Tom Zasadny, who did the renovation on our Steinway. If chosen carefully, such a piano is every bit as good as a brand-new Steinway, and less expensive. If it is clear that it will take a long time to gather the funds, one of the hybrid pianos would be a fine interim instrument, with the plan of eventually moving it to another space in the church, such as a choir room or chapel.

But what about my more humble purpose: a home piano? A mid-sized grand would be a worthy expenditure for a professional pianist who needs a top-quality instrument, especially if she also teaches at home and rehearses with chamber ensembles or singers. For a retired church organist? Not so much.

A used piano is a possibility. I am a piano technician, so I could do quite a bit of renovation work myself: things like hammer and damper replacement and regulation. I have restrung pianos, including two quality grands back in the 1990’s, and I could do it, but it is hard work, and requires either a large workshop or turning one’s music room or living room into a workshop for several months. And I am not so confident in my skills as I would have been twenty years ago; there would probably be some work that I would have to do a second (or third) time to get it right. So, unless it were a used piano needing only relatively minor renovation, I don’t think that I should consider it.

And there remains the issue of disturbing neighbors and spouse. For me, that would be the deciding factor. If I were to retire today, I would like to go with the Yamaha N3, but it would be hard to justify the $15,000 to $20,000 price, either to my wife or to God. That leaves the lower-priced Yamaha N2 or N1 and the Casio Celviano GP-500 and its lower-priced siblings. They are all good, and within this group it appears to me that “you get what you pay for” – the higher-priced instruments are incrementally better, but even the lowest-price instrument, the Celviano GP-300, would suffice. I would worry a little about long-term reliability – in essence, a race as to who breaks down first, me or the piano – but would otherwise be thoroughly content with any of these pianos.

***
Again, if this is “a first step,” where might it go? The piano has had periods of rapid development, especially from around 1800 to 1860. Since 1900, it has remained pretty much the same – there is little difference between our century-old Steinway at church and the brand-new ones in the showroom. Might the hybrids move beyond imitation of the finest acoustic pianos to lead the way toward a different kind of professional instrument, as different from the current piano as the piano of our time is from the eighteenth century fortepianos?


Afterword: Why not an organ?

I am, after all, an Organist. Why choose a piano instead of an electronic organ?

Price. An entry-level Allen electronic “Historique” organ (their home-line of instruments) starts at around $17,000. For a two-manual instrument with lots of limitations, an instrument with which I would be thoroughly dissatisfied.

I played an Allen for several years, and gave the dedicatory recital for an Allen at another parish in the area. They are acceptable instruments. But I would not want to live with one of them for the rest of my life. There are other electronic builders, each claiming superiority, but they would all be similar. For me, an electronic home organ would always feel and sound like a cheap imitation of a pipe organ, and I would long for the real thing every time I played it. It is telling, in this context, to compare that with my experience of the hybrid pianos.

It is possible to put a mechanical-action pipe organ in a home; many contemporary builders would be happy to make one to my specifications. It would be a small and limited instrument, it would disturb the neighbors even more than a piano, and it would be very expensive.

Versatility. On the piano, one can do a lot of the practicing that is needed to continue as an organist – essentially, everything except pedaling and passagework that demands two manuals. It does not work the other way; playing an electronic organ at home does not prepare one to play Beethoven or Chopin on a piano.

Versatility is another advantage of the hybrids over the acoustic pianos. They are MIDI instruments which can be connected to the electronic world. For relatively little money I could add a used computer plus Hauptwerk software with organ sounds, playable from the hybrid piano keyboard and listenable either through headphones, computer speakers, or external amp and speaker. The result would be akin to a one-manual organ with no pedals. It would be exceedingly strange at first to play “organ” with the feel of a piano keyboard, but I think that I would prefer that to the feel of an Allen organ, or for that matter any pipe organ with a non-mechanical action.

Stage of Life. I have played the organ for a long time; forty years and counting. I am a Fellow of the Guild. I have played a lot of wonderful organ literature and performed recitals, including a few “on the road,” enough to give me a small taste of “Concert Artist.” I have been mostly fortunate in my instruments -- I was part of the fundraising and installation for one of Randall Dyer’s signature three-manual instruments and then played it for more than a decade. It remains the finest organ I have played regularly. [A personal note: the first photo on the linked page from the OHS database, an exterior view of the church, was the view from our kitchen window, for we lived across the street from the church. I would see it every time I washed dishes.] I have now played our Pilcher mechanical action organ for many years, and in its way, it is an equally satisfying instrument.


It has been a terrific life – and I have not here mentioned the joys of working with choral singers young and old, nor selecting and playing the hymns.

There are many aspects of my work that I love, as readers of these pages will know. But there is a lot of it, and I have less energy for it every year, especially around Christmas and Holy Week. Readers of these pages will know about that, too. It is a demanding life. That is not just me; every church musician who takes it seriously finds it so.

For now, I think that my playing is the best it has been, and I continue (with ups and downs) to learn and improve. I am not ready to hang up my shoes, not yet.

But all things come to an end.

Solve senescentem mature sanus equum, ne Peccet ad extremum ridendus. (Horace, as quoted by Samuel Johnson at the head of No. 207, “The Rambler,” March 10, 1752, which would be the penultimate number. ) Johnson concludes his essay with these words:

He that is himself weary will soon weary the publick. Let him therefore lay down his employment, whatever it be, who can no longer exert his former activity or attention; let him not endeavor to struggle with censure, or obstinately infest the stage till a general hiss commands him to depart.

Pianos, Part Two

On Monday, I returned to the music store. The Steinway event had ended, but many of the pianos remained, several of them with “Sold” flags on them. I was correct in assuming it would be a quiet day. The store’s piano person, Nelda Wittig, patiently endured me for about two hours (in which I was the only customer in the store), and was very helpful. I started with the Yamaha hybrid piano, the Model N3 AvantGrand, improvising for forty minutes or so. I was entranced.

Regretfully, I left the N3, walking to the Steinway B across the room. It is still the best. And still four or five times as expensive: list price: $93,000 and up. I tried a mid-sized Yamaha acoustic grand, the Model C3X, a fine piano, very clean-sounding and beautiful, a joy to play. It is a 6’1” grand, listing for about $55,000. I went back to the N3 hybrid. And back to the C3X. It was uncanny; the actions were absolutely the same. The sound? Almost the same. It might be simply that the hybrid’s sound is based not on the mid-sized Yamaha grand, but their concert grand, Model CFX. To a person sitting at the keyboard, the sound and feel of the two pianos is very close, amazingly close. In a “blindfold” test, I would not be able to distinguish the actions by feel and response, including the damper pedal mechanism. I would have to think carefully about the sound, and if I did not know the N3 was a digital piano, I would not label it as one.

I tried a mid-sized Boston grand (I think it was the 5’10” Model GP-178). The Boston, from Steinway’s “second level” brand, was perfectly fine, with a list price of about $30,000. I would call it a toss-up between the Boston and the Yamaha N3. Were I in a situation where an acoustic grand would be acceptable – for example, retiring to a country farmhouse with no nearby neighbors and a heated outbuilding or garage which I could occupy as a music room without disturbing anyone, I would give the Boston serious consideration, though its price would be a stretch. But the N3 hybrid is so close to it in quality as to be a virtual toss-up, at half the price. And it has headphones and a volume knob.

Casio is also making a hybrid piano, the Celviano GP-500. It was nearby, so I sat down to give it a try, not expecting much.

It was the surprise of the day.

For keyboard musicians, Casio has some history. We tend to think of the company in terms of $100 battery-powered keyboard toys to pick up at Target or WalMart for a child, such as the ML-1 of the 1990's, a two-octave portable with illuminated keys – though some creative pop and alternative musicians have taken the very cheesiness of such instruments as the basis for good work, almost always tongue-in-cheek. More than that, people of my generation remember when “Made in Japan” was a synonym for “Cheap Junk,” and Casio was part of that era with a variety of inexpensive products. That was before Toyota and others – including Yamaha – made it their mission to turn it around and make “Made in Japan” a badge of quality, the finest in the world. Casio has been part of that, too, seeking especially to bring increasing quality to the lower-priced end of their markets. Their wristwatches, for example, are highly regarded, and they produced the first pocket calculator, and the first inkjet printer. They have been making electronic keyboards since 1980 (mostly portables, including instruments for stage use), and introduced the Celviano line of digital pianos in 1991 as a competitor to Yamaha's Clavinova, and the Privia line in 2003. Their website speaks of the goal of one of their founders in 1946, Toshio Kashio, to eventually "create electronic musical instruments that were also affordable for hobby musicians," and to "allow amateurs to participate in the big music business – without having to spend the equivalent of a new car."

I realized quickly that, despite my prejudice against it, this was a Serious Piano. Casio has partnered with the German piano builder Bechstein to develop the instrument, with Bechstein’s flagship piano sound and action feel -- the epitome of a German piano, as Mendelssohn and the Schumanns and Liszt played. It is not quite the acoustic grand piano action in the manner that the Yamaha instrument uses, but Casio and Bechstein have made it equally accurate in feel, and in some respects it might be an improvement. The best I can tell, the whippen, jack, and repetition lever of an acoustic grand action have been replaced with less complex – and less likely to need repair or adjustment – components, balanced and weighted to feel like the Bechstein action. The sound is terrific. Or rather, sounds. Besides the “Berlin Grand” that is the Bechstein, there is a “Hamburg Grand” (read: Steinway imitation) and “Vienna Grand” (Bösendorfer imitation), both exceedingly fine. Plus harpsichord and various other sounds. [The Yamaha also has multiple sounds, most notably their equivalent of the “Vienna Grand” – with sound samples from the Bösendorfer, which is owned by Yamaha. I was so entranced with their default sound, based on sampled sounds from the Yamaha CFX concert grand, that I did not even try the Vienna sound.]

After fifteen minutes or so, I found Ms. Wittig at her desk. “Tell me about that Casio,” I said. She did, explaining much of what I just wrote, and telling me that her jaw-dropping reaction was similar to mine when it first arrived in the store this spring. Most jaw-dropping of all is the price: $6,500. One-third of the Yamaha N3’s list price. Less than one-tenth of a big-time Steinway’s list price. And there is a similar model, the GP-300, that lists for $4,000, and (I gather) a GP-400 that is somewhere in between. I went from the GP-500 back to the Steinway B. There is precious little difference in sound or feel for an order of magnitude of price difference.

Upon a few days’ reflection, I recognize that the Yamaha N3 is more refined than the Casio. But (again) it is three times as expensive. And the GP-500 is definitely not a toy. I think that Toshio K. would be very pleased.

[Edited Nov. 11, 2016 to add: Kawai, a long-time builder of acoustic pianos and competitor with Yamaha in this field, also has a line of hybrid pianos introduced in 2015; details can be found at their website here. In some respects, they appear to be similar to the Yamaha and Casio hybrids; their unique feature is using a wooden soundboard as sort of a "subwoofer" speaker. Prices appear to be around $6000 and up. There are likely to be many other such instruments in the coming years.]


Some thoughts:

The spinet piano, the type of piano on which I learned to play, has been dead for a generation. For that matter, the traditional acoustic studio upright might be dead. It is as expensive as the Casio and the Yamaha N1 hybrids (certainly the NU-1, an entry-level version of the hybrid based on the Yamaha upright piano action, listing at $6,500. I played this for a while, and it is a delightful little piano), and the musical experience of playing anything short of the best uprights is decidedly inferior to playing a grand.

There has never been much reason for a musician to consider “baby” grands with their small soundboards and short bass strings; they are sonically inferior to a quality upright. And (again) they are at least as expensive as the Casio and Yamaha hybrids. The baby grand might hang on to a market niche as an expensive furnishing for a large living room or hotel lobby.

The practice room upright? That jury is still deliberating. By light-years, I would prefer to play either of the hybrids over any piano that I have encountered in a practice room, and the potential for headphones is a huge plus for practicing in tight quarters. The question will be how well the hybrids hold up to years of heavy and occasionally abusive playing. The Yamaha should be fine, for its action has been proven in such situations; the Casio is an open question, though it is clear that they have gone to considerable lengths to build an equally durable action.

Then again, there might remain a place for what one of our former choristers calls “The Tank” – the blonde Hamilton upright piano that used to be the choir room piano, and now is used mostly for the annual “Cocoa and Carols” event in the undercroft. The Baldwin company specifically designed those Hamiltons and their twins sold under the Baldwin name as practice room and school pianos – not elegant musically, but extraordinarily durable and easy to repair, even more so than the Yamahas (and a lot more so than the Steinways, which can be finicky. Steinway versus Hamilton is somewhat like comparing a Ferrari with a Toyota Corolla). Our Hamilton is probably fifty or sixty years old and in the prime of its career. It will be interesting to see how the hybrids look and sound at that age. My guess is that by then, the electronics will have broken down. Or the speaker cones might have failed, for they are likely to deteriorate with age. If the speakers cannot be replaced, they can be bypassed via the line out into external amps and speakers, so long as the electronics are viable.

But I am not going to be playing the piano in fifty or sixty years.

The closest current equivalent to our Hamilton is the Baldwin B-243, which they describe as the “best selling studio model of all time.” It retails for just under $9,000, pretty much in the middle of the hybrid price range. Their least expensive piano of any type, the BP-1 console upright, is not much cheaper, clocking in at $8,625. As with all Baldwin pianos since 2008, it is built in China.

to be continued: “A first step”

A visit to the piano store

It began with a guitar string. My wife needed one, so the two of us went to the excellent local music store, West Music. We went to the guitar and pop music end of the building, she got her string, and we spent a few minutes in the guitar room, where she tried out an instrument.

That was enough excuse for me to drag her to the far end of the store: the pianos. To my surprise, it was the annual Steinway Extravaganza, when the company ships in many of their higher-end grand pianos for a few days. I happened on this event one time a few years ago. That time, I was thinking in terms of the church and its needs. This time, it is for me; a piano of my very own.

But not a high-end Steinway. For the first time in my life, we could in theory drop $80 or $90 grand on a piano, but that would be from retirement savings and it would be imprudent. I played a few notes on the “Legends Tour” concert grands that had been played by a variety of famous people and moved on to a Steinway Model B for a couple of minutes. It was a terrific piano (as I described in the link above). The store was busy and my wife was itching to go, so that was it. In the car, I mentioned that I would like to have a piano when we retire, a thought which I had never dared voice.

Silence.

I dropped the subject. Several hours later, she brought it up, having had time to think about it. First, she reminded me that we are not going to spend that kind of money on a piano. And that the sound of a piano hurts her ears. Second, I am aware that it would be a large imposition on her for me to practice for hours at home. Her instrument – classical guitar – is much kinder to fellow householders than a piano. My playing would impose on neighbors as well, if we end up in a town-house or apartment, which is likely.

Having hosted the jazz department for eight years at the church, I am aware that it would also be an imposition for me to seek arrangements with a nearby church for any serious amount of daily piano (or organ) practice, if I am not working as their musician. One or two days a week might be possible: every day? Not so much.

But if I am not working, why do I want to practice? That is the part which my wife had not considered; she thought (and probably hoped) that I would never want to play again. I sometimes thought that too until a few months ago. For a funeral, I had to learn a Mozart sonata in the span of a couple of days. I had not played that sort of music for decades, and it awakened a longing – I could return to the piano and play Mozart. And Haydn, and Beethoven. Schubert, whom I especially loved. Chopin. Liszt. The Bach suites, the Well-Tempered Clavier, the Goldberg Variations, which I played in concert half a lifetime ago.

It was the first time I had looked toward retirement with any glimmer of hope or vocation. Would anyone want to hear me play? Probably not. There are already too many pianists in the world. But I think of Messiaen’s statement: “An apple tree makes apples. I make music.” I have known apple trees – including one I planted, decades ago, near what is now an abandoned farm house – whose fruit is ignored, left for the wild animals. That does not stop them from doing what God made them to do.

I understand why my wife might hope that I would close the fallboard and walk away. For thirty-plus years she has followed me through several job-related moves. She has almost never had a weekend with me, not since our honeymoon. We go weeks at a time with our paths crossing briefly with hardly a chance for two sentences. I think she would like to see her husband a little more often. I would like to see her, too; she is my favorite person and best friend. And it is true: for medical reasons, piano and organ music does hurt her ears, along with other loud noises. She has reason to dread having a husband who wants to practice.


Well, then: what to do about an instrument? As we passed through the Steinways, I saw the store’s Yamaha digital grand with its price tag of $14,999 (list price: $20,000). I thought about it: Headphones. Volume control. Still a lot of money, but not an impossible sum.

To be continued…

Sparrows and Light

One of the first YouTube clips I posted was my prelude on “God of the sparrow” two years ago on this Sunday, the blessing of animals.

Here is the version from today’s 9:00 service:
Improvisation: God of the Sparrow

This time, for the middle section I quote Royal Oak (All things bright and beautiful), which I think turned out well, and I like the return to the B major tonic that follows, and the coda. In places I am intentionally more free with the tunes than I was in 2014, and the form is more complex.

I cannot say which version is better. I wish I had made more progress in my skill level than what these two improvisations indicate.

Perhaps I have made a little progress; I am considerably more comfortable with “surprise” improvisations than I used to be. There was one in this day’s service at the end of communion when there were several minutes to fill. I returned to “God of the sparrow,” this time in D flat, and I think it was pretty good.

But I still cannot do as well at the organ. I played a prelude on the same tune at the choral service two hours later; it had some moments, but it was not as good as the piano version. There was a sixteen-bar period after the first couple of statements of the tune that I intended as a transition, but it was a boring progression of chords without motivic relation to anything, because I was more concerned for that moment with changing the registrations than I was with the musical content. Anyone who improvises must constantly purge his music of such things.

I take encouragement from C.P.E. Bach: somewhere in his Essay he says that the organ and harpsichord are difficult instruments for improvisation. The pianoforte and the clavichord are better suited for it.

Lord willing, I intend to keep trying.

Here is another clip, from last Sunday’s choral evensong:
O gladsome light (David Ashley White)

It is not without its problems, notably a couple of notes in the soprano. But it has strong connection and I am proud of the choir for the way they sang it. As with much of the choral music I post, I have put this on the Net because there are no other recordings on YouTube.

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I have been reading with considerable benefit the Dialogue of Catherine of Siena, a few pages at a time. Yesterday’s insight: this musical work that I do is for the love of my neighbors, which in turn is love of God and in fact the only way that I can by concrete action express any love for God. I do the best that I can because I want it to bring people closer to God, rather than driving them away as bad church music can do, and that is because by God’s grace I care about these people. Or, as my motto from St. Augustine puts it, Cantare amantis est. The music can only exist when it springs from love for those who will hear it, and those with whom one is rehearsing and performing, and at root, this is love of God.

That is worth spending some time on the bench.

We are bound to Him, and not He to us, because before He was loved, He loved us. There it is, then: we cannot love Him with this first love. Yet I say that God demands of us, that as He has loved us without any second thoughts, so He should be loved by us. In what way can we do this, then? I tell you, through a means which he has established, by which we can love Him freely; that is, we can be useful, not to Him -- which is impossible -- but to our neighbor. To show the love that we have for Him, we ought to serve and love every rational creature and extend our charity to good and bad -- as much to one who does us ill service and criticizes us as to one who serves us.