December 2006 - Volume 11, Issue 5

Too Sexy For My Church?
Think Again: Blown Away By The Saxophone In Sacred Music

By MaryEllen O'Brien

Gabriel come blow your horn! Or could you make that your saxophone? A modem archangel might do just that if the sounds of the saxophone are as sacred as some contend. The saxophone may be young as far as musical instruments go, but it is oh so evocative. In fact, it is so like the human voice-so capable of an astonishing range of emotions-it seems a perfect fit for sacred music. But if the saxophone seems obviously native to the sacred, why do so many church musicians remain skittish about welcoming its emotive sounds into worship services? Is the image of Gabriel announcing the end of the world on his trumpet so embedded in our religious imaginations that many folks can't imagine him filling in the meantime by cutting loose every now and then on an alto sax to praise the Creator? Maybe he'd even put together a sax quartet for special holy days, like at least one Chicago saxophonist does.

Riccardo Selva is that Chicago saxophonist a musician on mission from God, as he likes to say, borrowing from the classic Blues Brothers movie. He describes the saxophone as a woodwind instrument that simultaneously exhibits the mellow sonority of a woodwind and the tonal edge of a brass instrument. In the right hands, it can blow a joyous, clean, even healing wind, a skill Selva is reputed to have. It can also give voice to grief, in a way that Our Lady of Sorrows would comprehend. And perhaps this is all part of the problem. For some, the saxophone is such an inherently sensuous instrument that it makes them nervous. Maybe it's just too sexy for church.

Selva believes otherwise, an argues that the sensuous sounds of the sax are exactly what the church needs, and he holds firm to his identity as a devout Roman Catholic while making that case. He's even written the book, so to speak, on the saxophone in sacred music. He earned his doctorate in saxophone performance in 2003 at the prestigious Northwestern University School of Music. It was there, in his doctoral tome The Saxophone in Sacred Music, that he put his convictions on the line about the appropriateness of saxophone for use in sacred and church music.

Debating which instruments, if any, should be used in Christian worship is a 2,000 year tradition. Early on, musical instruments were suspect because they were associated with pagan worship or deemed dangerously emotional. St. Jerome, an early church father, didn't think a Christian girl should be able to pick a flute out of a musical line-up, and his contemporary, St. Augustine agonized over the tension between the beauty of musical instruments and their potential for distracting Christians from true worship. Much later, in the 13th century, St. Thomas Aquinas condoned a much broader understanding of music in church, suggesting that it can draw people toward God through its universal language. The concerns these writers voiced might be aimed at the saxophone today, with its reputation as an icon of the jazz idiom making some church folks nervous about its place in worship. Its connection with jazz and the decadent environment associated with that music's early history cast a shadow on the instrument's potential for use in sacred music and liturgy.

Selva believes otherwise, an argues that the sensuous sounds of the sax are exactly what the church needs, and he holds firm to his identity as a devout Roman Catholic while making that case. He's even written the book, so to speak, on the saxophone in sacred music. He earned his doctorate in saxophone performance in 2003 at the prestigious Northwestern University School of Music. It was there, in his doctoral tome The Saxophone in Sacred Music, that he put his convictions on the line about the appropriateness of saxophone for use in sacred and church music.

Debating which instruments, if any, should be used in Christian worship is a 2,000 year tradition. Early on, musical instruments were suspect because they were associated with pagan worship or deemed dangerously emotional. St. Jerome, an early church father, didn't think a Christian girl should be able to pick a flute out of a musical line-up, and his contemporary, St. Augustine agonized over the tension between the beauty of musical instruments and their potential for distracting Christians from true worship. Much later, in the 13th century, St. Thomas Aquinas condoned a much broader understanding of music in church, suggesting that it can draw people toward God through its universal language. The concerns these writers voiced might be aimed at the saxophone today, with its reputation as an icon of the jazz idiom making some church folks nervous about its place in worship. Its connection with jazz and the decadent environment associated with that music's early history cast a shadow on the instrument's potential for use in sacred music and liturgy.

Selva isn't buying the negative arguments. He points to the fact that the saxophone closely resembles the human voice, which "is the primary medium for the propagation and practice of sacred and liturgical music in all the world's religions." This resemblance to the voice enables the saxophone to function well as a medium for sacred music, he insists. Before its invention in the mid-nineteenth century by Adolphe Sax, such emotional capabilities were unachievable in other musical instruments. The famous 19th century composer Hector Berlioz noted the saxophone's uniquely sorrowful sound, but also how it can emit a "sublime," even "priestly calm."

While the fame of the saxophone is inextricably tied to the emergence of American jazz, prior to that it was actually seen by some as an instrument fit for ritual, including solemn religious rites. In his research, Selva combines these insights with numerous interviews, including with jazz greats Dave Brubeck and saxophonists George Benson and Kirk Whalum (also a worship leader); Dominican priest /saxophonist James Marchionda; priest/theologian/musician Richard Fragomeni; and Lutheran pastor/jazz musician Bruce Anderson. Fr. Fragomeni told Selva that the saxophone has a unique sound, one that "evokes something of the human emotion of pain, lament...longing, a crying out." In contrast to the bright timbre of the trumpet, the saxophone has a "plaintive sound that wails out." Fragomeni admits the saxophone is not an instrument that many Roman Catholics feel at home with in the liturgy. Its sound seems too passionate. "Unfortunately, we try, oftentimes, in Christian Catholic ritual, to avoid that which is too deep and passionate...and so [the saxophone] fits better in a secular environment, where the music is more erotic." Can and should Catholic public ritual tap into the instrument's deep sense of desire and longing? Yes, says Fragomeni, for whether it be passion, deep sorrow, or a thirst for God, all of these expressions should be explored in the music of the Catholic liturgy.

Selva agrees. Several churches in the Chicago area can be heard resonating with the rich sounds of his saxophone in liturgies. He directs and performs in liturgies for The Shrine of Our Lady of Pompeii, nestled in Chicago's Little Italy, where Fr. Fragomeni is the rector. During the Good Friday liturgy, for example, it has become a tradition for Selva to play the baritone saxophone to draw out the plaintive sense of the ritual. "It is a classic example of how it's not the instrument per se, but the way in which the sound of the instrument adds to the words of the Gospel, or the words of a hymn, to emphasize its depth, the depth of human emotion," says Fragomeni. "If it awakens the human heart to God, it is itself contributing to what evangelization is about--which is inviting people to hear the Good News and receive it." Selva also employs a saxophone quartet for special occasions at the Shrine to supplement and enliven the sounds of praise which, due to the instrument's versatility, can be in classical or contemporary musical styles.

Selva can also be heard wailing and joyously screeching on the saxophone at St. James Catholic Parish in Arlington Heights. At St. James, Selva is given the green light to wail on the sax. He is also often bemused by the fact that some of his biggest fans are the grandmothers in the congregation!

Another community benefitting from Selva's soaring saxophone is that of the Sheil Center at Northwestern University in Evanston. He became involved in the music ministry at the Sheil Center during his graduate studies at Northwestern and continues to occasionally join in the celebrations there.

In fact, Selva has led numerous liturgies presided at by Francis Cardinal George, ranging from celebrations at St. Joseph's College Seminary in Chicago (where Selva has taught), to special events at the Shrine of Our Lady of Pompeii. Most recently he led the music and performed on the saxophone for the jubilee mass celebrating 25th and 50th anniversaries for members of the clergy and religious orders in the archdiocese. He has had conversations about music with the Cardinal and even had his car blessed by his eminence. That car, by the way, is affectionately known as "Cecilia," named after the patron saint of music.

Rev. Anderson, the son of a Lutheran bishop, spent years being pulled between his love for jazz and for the church. An Indian Jesuit helped him integrate both vocations. Anderson recounts the effect the music of legendary saxophonist Ira Sullivan had on his parish when Sullivan played the Agnus Dei on soprano sax, and the hymn "Amazing Grace" during Communion. According to Anderson, people were transfixed by the powerful sense of God's presence conveyed in the music. Anderson claims he hears the human voice in the saxophone, that the instrument approximates a human cry. "In certain saxophone players," he says, "I just hear a preacher." Anderson also recounts that after Sullivan played at vespers one night, he got a call from a parishioner who said, "When Ira was playing, there was a presence, wasn't there?" Anderson replied, "It was the Spirit of the Lord." Perhaps such accounts explain why some churches still fear the saxophone in church. When a musician has saturated the playing in prayer to such an extent that it evokes a sense of the untamed Spirit, it may strike some as too sensual for worship.

The Dominican James Marchionda, is often on the road as an itinerant preacher. He conducts parish missions all over the United States and usually concludes them with a prayer concert, to which he never fails to bring his soprano and alto saxophones. Sometimes, when he's not presiding at the liturgy, Marchionda will play the saxophone during the Mass itself "The sax," he told Selva, "can elevate a text from scripture, and make the words of a hymn come alive." He has also observed its effect on people's faces. What's so special, he says, is the instrument's yearning sound. "It has a crying ability and [an] expressive ability that just touches the intuitive in people...it goes deeper than the sound itself It sparks something beyond words." That something is exactly what Aquinas was talking about when he affirmed the ability of music to elevate the soul to God in prayer.

Selva asked the legendary jazz pianist and composer Dave Brubeck what makes music sacred or secular. Brubeck responded that his definition of sacred music is "any music that gets you closer to God." He sees little, if any, distinction between the two modes of music, a very Catholic way of thinking that reflects Catholicism's sense of the sacramental imagination. Brubeck, a convert to the church, wrote a jazz Mass before becoming a Catholic. He was commissioned by Ed Murray, then editor of the weekly newspaper Our Sunday Visitor. Murray wanted a non-Catholic to compose the music, precisely for the fresh vision it would bring. He told Brubeck he was sick of seeing Catholics go to Communion with long faces, that the Eucharist should be a joyful experience, and that he wanted to see people swinging on their way to Communion. So Brubeck included a special place for the saxophone in his Communion hymn, "All My Hope," and recorded his Mass to Hope with saxophonist Bobby Militello. He told Selva about playing "All My Hope" at an actual Mass, a very crowded one, during which the Communion hymn stretched for about twenty minutes: "Bobby blew chorus after chorus...all his Italian relatives were there...boy that church was swinging. Ed Murray got his wish that day- there were no unhappy faces."

Selva plays the saxophone in a wide array of styles-Gregorian chant, classical, jazz, contemporary, and fusions thereof--and he performs in a variety of contexts, including concerts, recitals, and church gatherings, interweaving the music in such a way as to make the sacred and the secular virtually indistinguishable. Like Brubeck, Selva's performance pieces give food for thought and spirit. When you hear his rendition of the classic jazz piece "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing," it's not hard to imagine Jesus picking up a saxophone and putting out some jammin' hymnody.

On most Sundays Rick Selva can be found wailing on his sax during the liturgy somewhere in the Chicago area. And have sax, will travel. He's a mobile musician available to "bring it on home" throughout the country. You can hear some of his wailing sax on his web site. And this witness can testify – I've seen it myself after Selva has blown through a church service – worshipers leaving church with a new swing in their step and a song they just can't get out of their heads. They have been blown away by the saxophone in sacred music.

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