Blog #4: Reflections from Taizé, Part Two

Greetings from Lyon! This morning I wrapped up what was a very fulfilling visit at Taizé. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to come back here and to stay a second week which allowed me to go deeper in relationship with the community and with the questions I’ve been asking. I’d also like to reiterate my gratitude for everyone who has supported this project, and especially the Jakab Family and Marks Center at Juilliard for enabling the travel to Taizé.  

After continuing my inquiry into Taizé’s practice for a second week via reading, conversations with members of the community, and reflection on my personal experience, I’ve arrived at a working thesis on Taize’s music. The thesis summarizes my most significant findings related to the practice, with the caveat of “working” added to leave the door open to the possibility of further reflection and/or more fully-fledged academic research in the future. Below I’ve shared this thesis, followed by reflections on a few related themes. 

Working Thesis on Taizé’s music:

Through embodied knowledge and expression of distinct facets of the human condition, Taizé’s practice of meditative singing fosters solidarity and belonging via a recognition of the breadth of our common experience and a collective turn toward the mysteries of life.

I. Embodying Truth

The first theme I would like to explore further is embodied knowledge. I believe that inherent in Taizé prayer is a process by which one internalizes the messages carried in the text of the songs in a way which is fundamentally different and deeper than intellectual knowing. Brother Roger, the founder of the Taizé community, wrote that each of the short songs “express a basic reality of faith, quickly grasped by the mind … as the words are sung over many times, this reality gradually permeates the whole being."[1] In other words, the musical practice embeds in us the songs’ simple truths in such a way that goes beyond the memory of our intellect and becomes a more tangible presence within our being throughout everyday life.

This aspect of embodiment is of great importance in the context of seeking, as is often said at Taizé, a living God, whose truth is discerned through a collaboration between scripture and lived experience. Brother François, a recently passed member of the community, wrote that “the witness of the Bible has to be confirmed by our own … otherwise it has no effect.”[2] François referred to the result of this collaboration as “the living Word,” and in the following paragraph from his writing entitled “It Is the Word That Is the Bread of Silence,” the brother lays out well how the Word offered in scripture can become a living truth through the process of embodiment.

“The Word offers itself as a food. It has to be “eaten” slowly if we are to draw from it all the nourishing substance it contains. We ruminate it (“chew it”) at length, for that is the way in which it becomes digestible, capable of penetrating us. It is given, in fact, to become one body with us, to enter our bloodstream and shed there the energy and heat proper to it. The comparison with food shows clearly that the assimilation of the Word is not something that is merely done intellectually. It involves the whole of our being, body and soul.” - Brother François [3]

Brother François’ perspective here resonates with those of other brothers I’ve had a chance to speak with on the topic this week. In Taizé’s prayer, the practice of music becomes a vessel by which the community aims to achieve such embodiment of the Word. Through the meditative singing of simple, life-giving truths rooted in scripture, the practice creates a dialogue between Word and our lived experience which allows the two to be woven together in the fabric of our being. This function speaks to the power of solidarity that can arise from Taizé’s music in that it results in the recognition of our shared human condition not only at the intellectual level, but in an embodied way of knowing which is felt in our innermost depths.

II. Inner Life & Solidarity

In a conversation with Brother Emile, he suggested to me that a crucial aspect of Taizé’s singing is a “collective turn towards God.” Considering that this refers to a living God who is sought both through the Word and in reflection of one’s experiences, the turn Brother Emile refers to would therefore be both inward toward the particularity of one’s inner life, as well as outward toward truths and especially questions we hold in common. The Bible indeed leaves many questions unanswered, and though the Church has often filled in the blank, the community of Taizé, as Brother François writes, “leaves [these questions] in God, respecting God’s mystery.”[4] François advocated for the importance contemplative practice through which one listens for an inner voice which “bears witness to the mystery which is at the origin of all and which sustains all.”[5] I think this point on mystery is key to the accessibility of Taizé’s practice. While folks visiting Taizé come from a wide swath of religious and non-religious viewpoints, we hold in common many fundamental questions around the predicament of the human condition. None of us have solved the equation of life. In Taizé prayer we ask those questions together in song and solidarity, and thus turn both inward and outward in reflection and respect of common mystery.

It is important to note here that the music of Taizé’s prayer does not exist in a vacuum but is embedded within an intentionally contemplative form of liturgy. In Taizé prayer, a period of silence his held in the middle of the service which otherwise consists fully of music, except for brief spoken prayers and readings of scripture in multiple languages. Brother François wrote that “Word and silence are two realities which condition one another.”[6] Brother Emile also spoke of a “mutuality” between the song and silence at Taizé. The songs incline our ear so that we listen more attentively in the silence, allowing the silence to fill us in a unique way. After hearing Word through song, the silence invites one to listen inside, and see what arises. Brother Emile describes the singing as being similar to building a jewelry box, preparing a place for the jewel which arises only in silence. In a similar reflection, Brother François wrote that “when the Word is taken as a whole in this way, it becomes light.”[7] Thus in addition to its interpersonal effects, Taizé’s pairing of song and silence is a unique spiritual process of discerning truth on an individual level. Brother François related this process to the Second Epistle of Peter in the Bible which speaks of the truth found in one’s inner life as “like a lamp shining in a dark place; until day begins to break and the day-star rises in your hearts” (2 Peter 1:19).[8] Taizé’s music in the context of its liturgy is therefore a vehicle both for deepening one’s inner life as well as that of the community through the combination of contemplation and solidarity.

III. Ecumenism

The last theme I would like to reflect further on is the value of ecumenism which undergirds much of Taizé’s form and practice. Taizé has a long history as a community that not only welcomes but gives a voice to young people from all walks of life. A major impetus for this was the Second Vatican Council, which greatly disappointed Brother Roger due to a lack of action on ecumenism at a time when young people increasingly felt they did not have a place or a voice in the church. Ever since, the community of Taizé has engaged in a vocation of unconditionally welcoming and engaging with young people. One striking story which embodies this value and what Brother Roger eventually coined “the dynamic of the provisional” is that of Easter of 1972.  Only two weeks before Easter, the community found out that thousands more young people than expected had registered to visit. Rather than turn anyone away, without hesitation they broke down the and rented a huge circus tent to make room for the additional visitors.[9] While I haven’t experienced anything quite so extreme, the sense of radical hospitality and trust that one way or another everyone will be welcomed is palpable across the community.

As part of the welcome at Taizé, everyone is given a voice. This is true in many respects, from being entrusted practical tasks essential to the functioning of the community to conversations in small groups, collaborative organization, invitations to speak with the monastics and freely voice whatever questions or concerns are on your mind, and particularly in the music. In prayer at Taizé, all voices are welcome. The music is sung in dozens of different languages, and the simple tunes repeated several times means that anyone can feel relatively comfortable joining in, whether or not you can read music. Though the songs are simple, they are richly substantive and classical in the sense that every non-essential note seems to have been stripped out in the compositional process. The result is that every note matters, and each line within the typically four-part harmony ends up conveying a sense of profundity, so no matter your range you are given something meaningful to say.

From composition to practical organization and execution, the community puts in great effort to foster this common musical practice which yields a sense of unity while maintaining respect for our differences and diversity. The practice does not invent false similarity through diluting our differences or reliance on half-truths, but rather utilizes the real common ground of our shared human condition to develop a deep sense of solidarity and trust.

Reflecting on this time Taizé and the gift has been to be here, music speaks a truth that I cannot. Here is a prayer from the community:

~~~

Though I am saddened to leave Taizé, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for this experience and all the wonderful folks I had the privilege to meet. I’m also very excited to be presently on my way to Taiwan for the Taipei Music Academy and Festival! I’m psyched to play with a phenomenal orchestra for these next couple weeks, before a bit of down time and getting back to New York City for the new academic year. In terms of the blog, there’s lots more research to do and I have many questions and ideas remaining. I’m not sure yet what time I will have for additional research before getting back to New York. Though as I mentioned at the outset, I am looking at this project as the beginning of a much longer conversation and I certainly plan to keep exploring these important questions. Thanks again for following along and feel free to be in touch!

Peace,

Ben

Footnotes

[1] Brother Roger of Taizé, “Meditative Singing,” in Prayer for Each Day by Taizé (Chicago: GIA Publications, 1998), 5.

[2] Brother François of Taizé, “It Is the Word That Is the Bread of Silence,” Short Writings from Taizé (Taizé: Ateliers et Presses, 2008), 11.

[3] François, 18.

[4] François, 5.

[5] François, 13.

[6] François, 1.

[7] François, 7.

[8] François, 7.

[9] Moments in the Life of Brother Roger, directed by The Community of Taizé (Chicago: GIA Publications, 2017), DVD.

Blog #3: Reflections from Taizé, Part One

Hello! After a long journey I arrived to Taizé five days ago, and I’m so grateful to be here. I mean it when I say the people here are wonderful, the music is beautiful, and the spirit of this place is very special. My posts from Taizé will be a bit shorter than those before, as I take time to share a few simple reflections and observations while also being present in the life of the community here. If you’re reading this and are not familiar with Taizé, I invite you to read a bit about the community here and about their practice of meditative singing here for more context.

Despite coming alone and only having been here once before it has been both surprising and comforting to feel very much at home here. As I speak to other young people who are here visiting, I have found this experience is far from unique, with many remarking of a profound sense of community and belonging despite the remarkable the differences and diversity of folks here. For reference, it is a slightly smaller week than summer average, with roughly 1,200 visitors here for the week, mostly young people but also a few families and older adults from many different countries and continents.

The pastoral setting of wide rolling hills dotted with small villages also brings a sense of physical rootedness in this place, as the cycles of the sun, stars, and weather play a tangible and comforting role throughout the days here. While the modern urban setting I come from tends to overflow with stimulation of all kinds, the remarkable simplicity of life at Taizé also helps instill a sense of deep peace and incentivize a mindful presence which allows one to witness more fully the richness of each experience and person they encounter while they’re here. While I’m excited to be reflecting on the community-forming impacts of Taizé’s musical meditative prayer, I think it’s important to also keep in mind some of these more basic elements which help to make Taizé a welcoming, restful, and contemplative space. 

~~~

This week, I had the privilege of participating in Taizé’s annual meeting of friendship between young Muslims and Christians. About 80 people participated in the program, roughly half Christian and half Muslim representing many different countries and languages spoken. The four-day program included forming of small groups for dialogue and friendship, workshops co-led by Christian brothers of Taizé and Muslim Imams, common meals, and invitations to observe one another’s prayer practices three times daily. I was especially touched by a common tenet of the meeting as a vision of “worldwide brotherhood and sisterhood.” At one workshop Brother Emile of Taizé and Imam Adbelaziz El Magrouti spoke of the important distinction between siblinghood and friendship being that the former is defined by forgiveness and unconditional love. Acknowledging long histories of pain and fighting between the groups, Brother Emile suggested that “forgiveness interrupts the transmission of evil.” In other words, as human factions (political, religious, social, or even in a personal context) repeatedly judge and hurt one another, it takes forgiveness to finally interrupt that cycle and find a new way forward.

I also appreciated that the primary goal of this meeting was not to hash out theological debates and define our differences, but to simply build friendships as we are. This speaks to the element of siblinghood and unconditional love in that we do not need to change one another to love one another in some meaningful way. Rather, it is on the ground of genuine friendship and siblinghood amidst our difference that those more difficult conversations of reconciliation will happen more fruitfully. I will conclude my reflection on the Muslim-Christian meeting by sharing a quote from Imam Abdelaziz which I think is an important reminder as I continue this endeavor of research and inquiry.

“The word of God is not knowledge for the head, but an invitation towards a way of being. ”

— Imam Abdelaziz El Magrouti

~~~

The other major facet of my experience thus far I would like to share concerns Taizé’s practice of meditative singing and its relationship with the sense of belonging and reconciliation in this community. As I have prayed with the community via Taizé’s songbook, it has been striking to observe the breadth of emotions expressed in the songs. Each song seems to embody a particular way of responding to the human condition, to the world, and to God. Much like the Psalms from which many of the song texts originate, the tunes vary in expression between joy, sadness, hope, fear, gratitude, mourning, elation, uncertainty, wonder, and much more. When prayed through meditative collective singing the music becomes a way of holding each of these emotions in sensitive solidarity with the community and within oneself.

The shared musical moments of joy and elation are wonderful, though I find especially powerful prayers that acknowledge our more difficult, but equally valid and important emotional responses to life such as anxiety and fear. In a society which collectively tends to value happiness over all else, we do not often have room in our modern lives to sit with these more difficult feelings, especially together. The singing at Taizé becomes a way to recognize that we all carry some form of anxiety and fear and provides a safe and comforting space for us not only to feel these important emotions but do so in solidarity as a community. Holding those difficult feelings in the light of awareness and love of community can have a deeply healing and even transformative effect on those emotions we carry. One of Taizé’s songs seems to reflect this truth, which includes the text “Our darkness is never darkness in your sight: the deepest night is clear as the daylight” (listen to the song here). This aspect of emotional solidarity within Taizé’s practice seems to be an important cornerstone in contributing to the unique quality of communion and belonging that many feel here.

An especially powerful experience around the musical practice I’ve witnessed this week is the experience of walking out of church. The morning and midday prayers tend to last around 45 minutes, but there is no set ending time so folks gradually filter out while the singing continues. Many continue singing while walking out, and a couple days ago I noticed for the first time how after crossing the threshold of the building I could hear my own voice and those of other individuals in a much more exposed way. The emotional intimacy of the practice touched me when I suddenly heard our individual voices and recognized that each of us were engaging in a genuinely vulnerable expression. It felt almost as if we were seeing one another’s hearts before actually meeting in a conventional way.

Across all the forms of connection I’ve experienced at Taizé, something I’ve observed that seems to be distinct is that dialogue here seems to be largely undergirded with a mutual assumption of similarity, rather than of difference. Though there are a myriad of otherwise polarized political and religious identities present, thus far in interactions I’ve had and witnessed I have not seen the underlying skepticism that is more common other places. While I can’t say anything for sure, considering the aforementioned nature of Taizé’s prayer and its potential to foster a sense of our common human condition, I feel that the practice may help significantly in centering our shared humanity in a way that provides a more open and welcoming ground for connection across what are often otherwise bitter divides. To summarize these reflections on Taizé’s prayer and meditative singing, here’s a small takeaway for this week:

Communal music-making that expresses and embraces deep facets of our being can help create a safe space for emotional vulnerability and contemplation in such a way that empowers reconciliation and belonging in community.

~~~

Below I’ve shared a few photos from this week, along with a link for the livestream of this Saturday’s Evening Prayer at Taizé. Whether you’d like to join in prayer or are just curious to learn more and hear the music of Taizé, I invite you to watch the livestream at 2:30pm EST (8:30pm in Taizé) or view the recording that will be available afterwards. I’ve been lucky to meet and play with a few wonderful musicians also visiting this week and we will be playing together during Saturday’s evening prayer as well!

Taizé Service Livestream: https://www.youtube.com/@taize/streams

Service Recording (after Saturday): https://www.taize.fr/en_article28227.html

As always, thanks for keeping up with the project and feel free to be in touch with any comments or questions!

Peace,

Ben

Blog #2: Music and Human Nature

Hi again! As I have begun researching over the last few weeks a few major themes within the inquiry have become apparent, and I’m excited to be diving into the first in this post. Below I’ve articulated a core theory on this first theme of music and human nature, which I subsequently have broken down into subtopics including key research findings and reflections. First, though, a few housekeeping items:

• You can now subscribe to receive an email update when I post a new blog! Sign up via the subscription form at the bottom of the main blog page if you’re interested.

• My research-based posts include footnotes at the end, so if any particular topic covered here is of particular interest feel free to explore more via those sources!

• I am heading to Taizé in one week!! There are more research blogs in the works, but the timeline for those is a bit uncertain due to the travel. Regardless, I will be sharing updates from Taizé starting the week of July 9th!

• Thank you for being here!!

Theory: Music is fundamental to human nature, and thus participating in it with others is a powerful way of recognizing and building meaningful connections on the ground of our shared humanity.

I. Our Physical Nature

While many think of music as a primarily emotional activity, our ability to create and enjoy music is in fact a deeply embodied phenomenon. In a recent scholarly article, authors Michael Trimble and Dale Hesdorffer highlight a few insights from our evolution and neurology to that end. Trimble and Hesdorffer note that when compared to the brains of our evolutionary ancestors, Homo sapiens have an “increase in area allocated to processing auditory information” including the dorsal area of the temporal lobes, cerebellum, and the prefrontal and premotor cortex.[1] Considering additionally that the relative size of neural areas for visual processing decreased compared to our primate ancestors, the authors argue that these shifts in our neurobiology “heralded a shift to an aesthetics based on sound.”[2] Due to this unique aural aesthetic, Trimble and Hesdorffer write that early human language was “framed by musicality” and that “meaning in music came to us before meaning given by words.” Thus, our minds were evolutionarily developed in a unique way such that we are predisposed by nature to both make sense of the world and of one another in sonic and musical terms.

In addition to our biology naturally inclining humans toward music, the experience of doing so also has meaningful subsequent impacts on our bodies. In Psychology for Musicians, author Robert H. Woody highlighted recent studies on the physiological effects of group music-making, including hormonal changes and increased activity in lymphocyte cell which corresponded to lower levels of stress and stronger immune system function respectively.[3] Singing with groups specifically may be particularly impactful, with substantive benefits observed in other research including “release of physical tension,” “a sense of greater personal, emotional, and physical wellbeing,” “stimulation of cognitive capacities,” and more.[4] Based on this information I would argue that humans are built for music not simply because it is a logical result of our unique physiology, but also because the particular ways in which our bodies naturally respond to musical engagement that allow it to be a deeply rewarding and life-giving endeavor.

II. Human Connection & Expression

Beyond our individual experiences, music is also deep in our nature as social creatures. In Susan Hallam and Evangelos Himonides’ recent work, The Power of Music: An Exploration of the Evidence, the authors share several studies involving infants and very young children which reveal music’s impact on our expression and connections even before significant socialization. While humans are born with impaired vision and many other partially-developed capacities, Hallam and Himonides write that “systems for processing sound develop while the fetus is still in the womb and are fully operational for processing music at birth,” and note that “the musicality of mother-infant interaction might lay the foundations for a grammar of the emotions.”[5] One especially interesting study the authors cited found that babies who were sung to by their mothers as part of lullaby classes in the 24th week of pregnancy showed postnatal mother-infant bonding that was “significantly greater in the singing group three months after birth.”[6] It is powerful to consider that music plays such a central role in the very first connection we make to our mother, even before leaving the womb. It could be considered that in a certain way, music genuinely leads us into life. In the traumatic moment of birth, when many of the physical and chemical connections to our mother are severed, it may not be unreasonable to see the sonic and musical connection built between the mother and newborn as a sort of bridge of continuity which helps carry us into this world.

Once we’re in the world, music remains an important factor in the way we relate to others. Hallam and Himonides highlighted the relationship between musical and social synchronization, noting that “interpersonal motor synchrony might be a key component of musical engagement that encourages social bonds.” The authors shared studies including both infants and adults which found that engaging in movement synchronous to music increased pro-social attributes such as compassion, altruism, and intergroup cooperation in both age groups.[7] They conclude that “a primary function of synchrony is to mark others as similar to the self and that synchrony- induced affiliation modulates emotional responding and altruism.”[8] In other words, through shared emotional expression and coordinated movement, music can cause its participants to view and treat each other differently in the light of their shared humanity. When forced to reconcile with this common nature, there is a moderating limitation to the degree to which particular folks are label one another as “other.” Further support for this comes from a study Northern Ireland, which found that “cross-community music education projects were an effective means of addressing prejudice” between the divided Protestant and Catholic groups in the area.[9]

While music can be a powerful tool for reconciliation, it is important to note that it can and often has been used to enforce social division and inequity as well. Robert Woody wrote that “communal sharing of music reinforces cooperative and cohesive behavior—musical and social—and therefore establishes and rewards certain culturally acceptable practices.”[10] Therefore, the impact of communal music depends heavily on the particular cultural values and practices being advocated. Hallam and Himonides noted a poignant example of this truth in parallel movements from the United Kingdom in the 1970’s of “White Power music” and “Rock Against Racism,” which each were significant in bolstering racist and anti-racist political groups and policies respectively. Music can be a powerful way of fostering belonging, but the values and language underlying are crucial in determining whether any particular musical initiative will result in healing or harm.

In addition to the social agenda behind the music, other non-musical context that was crucial to positive outcomes across many studies I surveyed here included the importance of making music in community, active musical engagement amongst group members, and a focus on amateur music-making which allows the emphasis to be on emotional expression and connection, rather than social expectation and achievement.[11]

III. An Ecological Lens

I would like to consider that the function of music helping us get in touch with our human nature does not only help connect us to one another, but also to the wider natural world. Yo-Yo Ma’s recent project, “Our Common Nature” is a powerful embodiment of this perspective. With the project, Ma has travelled to several national parks and used music as a common ground and meeting space through which to build meaningful relationships both with the environment and with local communities.[12] Speaking of the project, Ma said “what if there’s a way that we can end up thinking and feeling and knowing that we are coming from nature, that we’re a part of nature, instead of just thinking: What can we use it for?”[13] Considering that that human nature is ultimately a result of billions of years evolutionary development, we see that our humanity itself is an expression of the natural world. I am struck here by Ma’s particular language of “thinking and feeling and knowing” an interbeing with nature, which seems to suggest that his experience of music in this context could be described as a sort of holistic communion by which spheres of intellectual, physical, and perhaps even spiritual knowing converge in an authentic expression of his humanity which he recognizes as part of the natural beauty of nature.

“Let us use culture to remember that we are part of nature; that the survival of the earth cannot be separated from the health of society; and that to love each other is to love our planet.”

— Yo-Yo Ma [14]

Conclusion

Music is fundamental to our physical, mental, and social nature as human beings. From our first and most intimate connections to our broadest affiliations and identities, music is integral to the way we relate with one another and with our wider world. Reflecting on the exhaustive body of research he surveyed for Psychology for Musicians, Robert Woody wrote that “music is extraordinarily valued by virtually all people” and that it is “an important domain that is distinctively human and, by all accounts, practically essential to health and well-being.”[15] Considering all the aforementioned evidence and perspectives, when we engage with music we touch a deep aspect of our being in a way that has genuine potential to open hearts to reconciliation in light of the truth of our shared humanity and of our common belonging in the natural world.

~~~

Thank you for keeping up with the project! As always I deeply value any ideas, questions, or comments you might like to share, so feel free to comment here on the blog or reach out to me at benjaminray2@outlook.com. Be well and I’ll be back soon!

Footnotes

[1] Michael Trimble and Dale Hesdorffer. “Music and the brain: the neuroscience of music and musical appreciation,” BJPsych International vol. 14 (May 2017): 28-31, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5618809/.

[2] Trimble and Hesdorffer.

[3] Robert H. Woody, Psychology for Musicians: Understanding and Acquiring the Skills (New York: Oxford University Press, 2022), 284.

[4] Susan Hallam and Evangelos Himonides, The Power of Music: An Exploration of the Evidence (Cambridge, UK: Open Book Publishers, 2022), https://doi.org/10.11647/OBP.0292, 425.

[5] Hallam and Himonides, 3.

[6] Hallam and Himonides, 393.

[7] Hallam and Himonides, 395-396.

[8] Hallam and Himonides, 397; emphasis added.

[9] Hallam and Himonides 559.

[10] Woody, 272.

[11] Hallam and Himonides, 450.

[12] Joshua Barone, “Yo-Yo Ma Is Finding His Way Back to Nature Through Music,” New York Times, December 15, 2022, https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/15/arts/music/yo-yo-ma-our-common-nature.html?unlocked_article_code=UJtjcr0sm4bqEatQZ-Ot8v2aeJTj1eYa8R7GWMQT1HdIk8tgy_JSeE6PuFOE3rTaDLlM043kEcgxJPKkoI6V4573LorHWWGJxMerqyXVOLa5IJv_xkpldnGsXd9ul6InMUF-UIel4-7JNW73BZdbMeP_5TE32Z5fSif34lTkNNAyb17PYJMQWSFvUl2ZXBbug0U8npeIpY79SjQu3vKB8Fc8_PvzmzpjDzl8LV2RUSlhfl4zN8lDmPIw_L_jv65Pla5TCvok_QXnP1F2_SlCszB07ZmS24zIp-FQacWrKLqT_t_Uwu5eJlPH3NWm9mHMb9ZTu58GFME1jcv57aM2L6XjX_48Y_I&smid=url-share.

[13] Barone.

[14] Yo-Yo Ma, “Our Common Nature,” accessed June 30, 2023, https://www.yo-yoma.com/our-common-nature/.

[15] Woody, 287.

Blog #1: Introduction

Hello! I am very excited to be starting this project, and I’m grateful that you are here to be a part of it. In this post I’ll be providing some background and context for what’s to come. This project represents a culmination of many of my interests, so I’m excited to share what will hopefully be meaningful insights from this inquiry and experience. Knowing that you may be here out of mutual interest in these subjects, I envision this project also as the beginning of a conversation which I invite you to be a part of. Feel free to use the comment feature on this blog or to reach out directly via email (benjaminray2@outlook.com) to share any comments, suggestions, or questions that come up as the project develops.

Goal & Core Questions

The goal behind this project is to discern and articulate some valuable insights about how music can function to facilitate personal, social, political, and/or environmental reconciliation in ways that support the building and sustaining of meaningful community and increase capacity for collective action.

That’s a big subject, so I’ve broken it down to a few core questions I’m focused on here:

-       How can music facilitate reconciliation in the context of diversity and division?

-       How can music contribute to actions of personal, social, and environmental healing?

-       How can music open hearts and minds to more life-giving ways of being?

So, what will I be doing?

There are three primary components to this project. First, I will research existing scholarship at the intersection of music and reconciliation. My hope with this research is to identify and share few key theories that may provide helpful frameworks through which to begin exploring the questions I’ve posed here.

Second, I will be travelling to the Taizé Community, an ecumenical monastery in Southeastern France, to live and practice with the community for two weeks this July. Taizé has long been an international beacon of peace and reconciliation whose primary practice is musical prayer and meditations, and I was fortunate to experience a pilgrimage to Taizé through the Chaplain’s Office at Davidson College a few years ago. I am deeply excited and grateful for the opportunity to return this Summer to participate in the life of the community and to experience and observe their practice of music and reconciliation. I will be exploring more about Taizé’s practice of musical meditation more later on in this blog, but if you’re interested to know more about the community you can head over to https://www.taize.fr/en_article6526.html where you’ll find several interesting articles about their history and vocation.

Upon returning from Taizé, I will begin the final component of this project which will be to synthesize my research findings with reflections from my experience at Taizé to share the most meaningful insights to take away from this project. I also hope to share suggested practical applications of these insights in the form of action items that musicians like myself and/or larger arts and cultural organizations could implement to better support the work of reconciliation.

Why does this matter?

I think it is worth sharing that the reason I feel called to explore these particular questions at this time is because I am writing in a context of social, ecological, and political crisis. This inquiry is not only a matter of intellectual interest but a crucial opportunity to seek ways I as a musician, scholar, and human being can most fruitfully respond to the crises we face. While there are many issues worthy of our attention and myriad ways of framing them, I would identify the three crises I am most concerned about with this project as (1) climate change and environmental degradation, (2) an epidemic of loneliness and crisis of belonging, and (3) social and political polarization. You can click on each issue to view a report on each issue for more information in case you’re curious.

With this project I am not seeking to share or argue for particular views on these issues, but I believe strongly that if we are to successfully respond to such crises we must do so together. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put it, our choices truly are “chaos or community.” As we seek to reknit social fabric that was lost during the pandemic and polarization of recent years, I think that music may have a special role to play in helping folks come together and build meaningful community across our differences, and I fervently hope that this project might provide some helpful insights toward that end.

Now let’s get this going!! I’ll be posting results from my first dive into the research next week, and meanwhile feel free to reach out with any questions and share this page with anyone who might also be interested!

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank some of the folks who have made this project possible. Thank you to all of my mentors, especially Dr. Rachel Pang, Rob Spach, and René Houtrides for their particular support of this project. Thank you also to the Jakab Family and The Marks Center for Career Services and Entrepreneurship at Juilliard whose grant support is enabling my travel to Taizé. And of course, thank you to all my family and friends for your continued trust, guidance, and love every step of the way.