Locus iste a Deo factus est

Today was choir retreat. That means approximately 5 hours of rehearsal in the basement of St Josaphat's Cathedral on 97 st and 108 ave. We took in yet another lecture on how important it is to have precise diction, and we were all instructed to carry our final consonants over and attach them to the beginning of the next words. This is a good practice to follow in choral singing, but one unfortunate instance arises from this rule. We are working on a beautiful setting of The Lord's Prayer (or, as the writer of the piece would spell it, The Lord's Praier... He has an excuse, he was born in 1516); And lead us not into temptation. Try it, run the consonants into the next words... You said it too, right? Lead a snot into temptation... I thought I would never be able to sing that line again without smirking.

Well, after a lunch break, we all trooped up the stairs to the actual cathedral, for a tour. Oh, it's a lovely space, with intricate stained glass panels, and detailed icons painted in bright colours on every available surface. The high domes hearken back to the Byzantine style of architecture.

Every footfall, every whisper can be heard from anywhere within the nave as if it were sounded right next to the ear that hears it.

Our chamber choir sang a Ukrainian song, and I marveled at the rich texture of the acoustic in this wondrous space. The very air breathed with the rise and fall of the blended voices of my colleagues. This, I thought to myself, is as close as any mortal ear comes to hearing the voice of God.

Then, the full concert choir takes a reverent breath and as one, we open our mouths and sing, Our Father, who art in Heav'n, and I weep at the sheer beauty and the power present in 60 voices raised in harmony, the notes springing to life from the early 16th century, and the words, from far beyond. Here, in this place, and in this fleeting moment, it seems time can be transcended, and prehistory collides with the present, bringing with it all ages past to mix as one with our voices raised to whomever might hear and take notice.

Locus iste a Deo factus est, inaestimabile sacramentum; irreprehensibilis est.