At last Sunday's services, we experienced through the Taizé worship experience what I like to call a "quiet joy." It is an indication I have seen written in certain ethereal organ works I play also. For example, Tempo: Adagio, "In Quiet Joy." 

The term can challenge common impressions of musical affects. For example, is not a minor key always sad (d minor, naturally, the saddest of all...) and a slow tempo an oppressive dirge? Well then surely a tune in a major key at a brisk tempo must evoke happiness and the purest form of joy...right?! The truth is that there are many shades in between colored by our own subjective senses, of course. But I felt those in attendance at last Sunday's services truly experienced the "quiet joy": an Easter service internalizing the resurrection and what it means for our own lives. 

I leave you with the words of Scottish poet Robert Crawford in his poem "Quiet Joy." He has written extensively upon the link between science and religion and religious poetry. I find his words ring true in any context, secular and sacred.     

No Lethean ease, but such a mood as craves
For naught in earth and heaven, just to breathe
The simple air of our reality
Like creatures of the season, — earthy, and
Made for the earth, at one with all things here;
So in the generation of ourselves
To have the certainty of peace, and find
The natural favour of our functioning
Sufficient till the end ensue. 

​Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music/Organist 

As an organist, the spring equinox inevitably brings up J.S. Bach, who was born on March 21, 1685. To celebrate, I took to the console and binged on Bach's organ works for about an hour last Thursday. Afterwards, I thought, what is it that makes this music so wonderful, grand, and powerful? One can always point to his masterful contrapuntal writing (considered never surpassed by music scholars), but to me it's much more. It's the intent. Two quotes from Bach sum it up well: 

“I have always kept one end in view, namely ... to conduct a well-regulated church music to the honor of God.” 

and

“The aim and final end of all music should be none other than the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul.”

The Doctrine of the Affects was a popular theory of aesthetics in music during Bach's life. Based on ancient  principles of rhetoric and oratory, the composer sought to embody concepts such as joy, sadness, or sorrow into their music through the outward constructs of notes and rhythm. Bach's intent of channeling the divine through his music then was given a viable path to our ears. For myself, playing Bach is always an experience where new ideas for interpretation happen each time I revisit a work of his. And I look forward to those opportunities in the new works I undertake. It is because he has given us all so much to decipher in the notes and rhythms themselves, waiting to be discovered and released. 

But now on to you, the listener. While music is no doubt subjective, there is a remarkable amount of consistency in our reactions to most music. This Lent I have offered music that is slightly more introspective during this penitential season. Perhaps no one has consciously noticed, but it is true. The big reed stops during the postlude have taken a leave of absence and the choir anthems include more serene and sublime selections, such as the Maurice Duruflé Kyrie on Lent I. All of these approaches signify a new affect in Lent, one that will be soon replaced with the joy and ecstasy of Easter. 

Music is a potent and reliable partner in our journey through the liturgical year. Bach and generations of church musicians after have understood this but it is nothing if it is not shared with those who wish to listen. Soli Deo Gloria.

​Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music/Organist 

I was happy and pleasantly surprised when I received an email a few weeks ago from Distinguished Concerts International New York inquiring if I and the Chancel Choir wished to take part in a choral concert at the Lincoln Center in New York City next spring.

What had happened is this production company saw our YouTube video of us singing The Ground by Ola Gjeilo from early last year (scroll to the end of this post to view), and enjoyed the musicality and passion in our rendering. As they are assembling a choir of 150-200 singers nationwide to take part in an Ola Gjeilo concert on March 16, 2020 in Alice Tully Hall, they hoped we would decide to join them. And, of course, we said yes! We have about 20 singers currently signed up for the trip, which will be from March 13-17 and include time to enjoy the city but also stringent rehearsals over the weekend. It is especially pleasing that the composer himself will be present and will be featured on the piano.

While this is just fantastic news and an honor to be selected for and to be a part of, I can't help but to muse on how this reflects on what is happening at Plymouth in general. What I see in the church is grand plans. The scope has always impressed me: vision without overreaching. Growth can be measured in terms of numbers and is the most obvious manner to do so. But creative vision within our means, in my view, even more so. And if the path is not available at the time, have the courage to create one.

For the music program, I see this manifest in several ways. I aspire to provide creative programming ever mindful to the volunteers who graciously give of their time and talents. We currently have one staff singer to support our choral sound and inspire our singers, as well as to be a resource for professional performance. The Plymouth Brass is a professional brass ensemble we are blessed to hear in worship several times each year. The 6pm service offers an evening prayer worship experience with music varied from Celtic and traditional to jazz and gospel. All in all, while our music program will always be supported by the backbone of our wonderful volunteers, there is a professional mindset that propels our offerings, whether it be by professional or experienced participants in our midst, or simply the vision of bringing musical excellence to all the worship services. And always with the intention of service.

So yes, we're going to the Lincoln Center and will have an amazing musical experience in one of the premiere concert venues in the world. But this opportunity is a sign of good things afoot here at Plymouth and I'm glad to be able to mix myself into it.

Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music/Organist  

The liturgical year offers us the discipline to follow in the steps of Christ during his ministry on earth. It is a compass for worship, and one I grew up with in the Lutheran Church and still cherish.

We are now at the beginning of a new church year in Advent, Year C in the three-year liturgical cycle. Advent is the shortest season and easily overshadowed by the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations. But I believe Advent is quite special, and can be of value to us if we so choose.

The word Advent is derived from the Latin Adventus meaning "coming." The season has been in existence from at least the 5th century. Advent traditionally recognizes three aspects of Christ's return: the incarnation in the manger, presence in our hearts daily, and the return of Christ at the end of all things. In our modern day progressive outlook, one could say that it's the birth of Christ and God's message of salvation to the world that is of prime focus. But is Advent just a nod to tradition in our worship services or is there more?

If we think about it, many of us already have an Advent state of mind post-Thanksgiving: shopping for Christmas presents, planning trips to see friends and relatives, or preparing one's home for guests. We are getting ready, staying awake, preparing for the coming of...something. 

For myself, I can always use a little introspection, a little penitence. And Advent has those qualities built in, though not quite as overt as in Lent. But we can take stock of ourselves, make changes, and be grateful for God's presence in our lives. Remind ourselves to just listen to that small voice within.

Musically, the liturgical year has provided an abundance of inspiration to composers over the centuries. Advent is no exception, ranging from the chorale preludes of Bach and Buxtehude, masterworks such as Part One of Handel's Messiah to contemporary compositions by Olivier Messiaen, Arvo Pärt, and John Rutter.

So, Christmas will come, soon enough. Let's enjoy the journey there and stay centered, tethered to what really matters. I leave you with a poem by MaryAnn Jindra. The Chancel Choir sang this text in a setting by composer Libby Larsen last year, "Lord, Before This Fleeting Season." It encapsulates the meaning of Advent far better than I could ever do. Let's give Advent a chance to offer clarity in our busy lives.                                                                               

Peace, Mark

​As a church musician for nearly 40 years now (Lordy...), there has always been one aspect of my duties that has made me question its validity, purpose, and frankly, effectiveness: the prelude and postlude. Every organist can relate to the experience of practicing diligently on an impressive slice of organ repertoire only to be met with the white noise of a chatty congregation during the prelude or the backs and roar of the congregation as they depart during the postlude. So, then, an organist will inevitably ask themselves, why am I doing this? This is just an observation and not an accusation. And the musical culture of congregations vary greatly from one another in this way. And it is simply human nature to speak to one another when in groups, especially if everyone just likes each other! But the question remains then: what is the purpose of music before and after a worship service? Can it be of benefit to a congregation to listen more attentively? A few thoughts from your friendly neighborhood organist.

Traditional Christian worship services are inevitably based on the Catholic Mass. According to the rubrics, the Mass begins when the priest enters the sanctuary and ends when he exits. Music before and after the liturgy then is only supplementary and not required. The Protestant Reformation placed a greater emphasis on music and figured prominently in Luther's theology. And so we have the great chorale preludes of Bach and other composers well suited to be used throughout worship. The French organist tradition of improvisation resulted in epic "sorties" at the end of liturgies and preludes created by virtuosic organists in the moment.  

From my experience, denominations tend to have music cultures that are reasonably consistent across the board. This is also influenced by a church's worship style characterized by a "high" or "low" church approach and, of course, by the congregation itself. Despite all these variables however, I feel there is a pragmatic approach to allow everyone to experience the prelude and postlude in their own way while being mindful of fellow congregants who choose another approach more meaningful to them. 

So what do these mysterious musical offerings mean to me? First, the prelude. It allows the organist or musicians to set a visceral tone for the service. The affect presented is often serene, meditative, (an introspective joy) to foster a prayerful environment for those who wish to prepare mindfully for worship. But the music can also be exuberant, celebratory...loud! I like to use this approach on feast days such as Easter Sunday, for example. The prelude. however, is a time for gathering! Some may prefer to chat quietly with their neighbor. And that is just fine as long as one respects the fact that some may wish to have silence (or near silence) to gather their thoughts and meditate upon the music being offered. 

The postlude. As an organist, it is always great fun to "turn it up." I consider it very rock-n-roll to play exciting and intense music at high volumes. You should try it. Primarily, I consider it an exclamation point to the worship service. A synopsis of all that came before in the liturgy and a reminder of the joy and hope we should have as Christians. And sometimes, there are exceptions to this joyful affect. An example would be the Maundy Thursday postlude, of which the events of Holy Week requires an appropriate introspective musical expression of intimacy, solemnity, sublimity. And I can't tell you how surprised I was my first Sunday with you all when, after my postlude, you were still seated! That is rare and wonderful. It reminds me of the bonus scene in the 1986 film Ferris Bueller's Day Off when Matthew Broderick turns to the camera after the credits are done, breaking the Fourth Wall, and says to the viewer, "You're still here? It's over. Go home." I've wanted to do that many times....not really. it's appreciated!

So just some thoughts and considerations from the One on the Bench. You may have noticed an indication and reminder in the bulletin inserts as well to allow an introspective time during the prelude for those who wish it. We all worship in different ways and that is just another piece of our diversity here at Plymouth. I suggest we continue to be mindful of these differences and perhaps even give the hoary tradition of the Prelude and Postlude a chance to resonate within ourselves. It could happen. 

Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music/Organist 

It has been nearly a year now since I joined Plymouth's staff as your Director of Music and Organist and so have had the chance to experience a full liturgical year with you. It has been a joy I must say and thank you all for being so welcoming to this nearly life long Ohioan! I am not disappointed to be in Colorado, let's just say...

My intention is to always open up more possibilities for all of you to participate in Plymouth's music ministry. The music program is, after all, yours! To that end, benefitted by the knowledge and wisdom gained by taking 'one lap' around the liturgical year, I'd like to present a brief overview of our existing music ensembles and introduce a few new opportunities.

The Chancel Choir will continue to be open to all who love to sing and who wish to be challenged by a wide spectrum of repertoire. This choir sings primarily at the 11:00 a.m. service and occasional at ancillary services such as Christmas Eve.  

New this year is the Chamber Choir, which will sing primarily at the 9:00 a.m. service approximately once per month. Depending on the repertoire selected, one or two rehearsals would precede the service attended. I would like to keep the size to 12 - 20 singers with a rotating roster expected. Also new this year is the Plymouth Chorale, an auditioned group focusing on advanced repertoire from the Renaissance to contemporary. I anticipate two or three appearances in our services this year.

The Plymouth Ringers, our adult handbell choir, is always open to new players. If you have never played handbells before that is okay! A learning curve is built into each rehearsal. A basic understanding of music notation however is required.  Additionally, the Youth Bells are always accepting new members under the able direction of Kathee Houser. 

I am also always looking for instrumentalists to offer their gifts in the summer services and 9:00 a.m. services during the academic year. If you are interested in contributing, please contact me via email or speak with me during office hours or after a service.

As you can see, there are many opportunities for you to participate in our music ministry if you wish. Do please know that there is no need for an all or nothing commitment to any of the preceding ensembles either. Give the time that you have, when you can. I can provide further details on how this can be accomplished. Lastly, a music page will be set up in the near future with much more information including schedules and further detailed descriptions of our ensembles. Stay tuned.

Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music/Organist ​