Music is Music! Part II: Gospel

1. Introduction

At first I was a little hesitant, being an old white man who has never been inside a black church, to write about gospel, the very soul of that church.  I came to the conclusion, however, that I did have that right, since I love this music.  Where else can you find such celebration of life; where else can you find such sorrow that is always transcended by an even greater joy? Yes, you can find it in other places, but rarely in such an emotionally intense and pure form.

I must say from the outset that I do not share the specifics of Christian faith.  I do readily acknowledge, however, what might be called "the unspoken and unspeakable Word behind words," which deepens my appreciation for gospel. (For my religious views, see "Ramana Maharshi and the Rabbi," which is available online.)  Neither a Christian nor an African American, I admire this music nevertheless, an indication of its transcendent universality.

This is the second of at least a four-part series, each of which briefly discusses examples of music which I find to be particularly beautiful.  Each essay deals with a specific genre; the overall theme is the celebration of musical diversity.  I strongly assert that if one really loves music, it is impossible to state such things as "only classical music (or jazz, rap, rock, blues, etc.) is worthwhile."  If music is an important part of your life, you listen to sounds with an open ear--you don't think about it, you let it happen.  If you respond positively, you like it; if you don't, you're either unfamiliar with that specific genre, or, with time, you discover that that particular type of music is not for you.  

The first part of the series, "Music is Music!  Part l: Beautiful Hurts" is already available online. (You can access it by googling "Beautiful Hurts" along with my name; it is on my blog.) Now let us turn our attention to one gospel piece as variously interpreted by three great gospel singers.

2. Lord, Don't Move The Mountain

These are the original lyrics:

Lord, don't move the mountain,

But give me strength to climb it;

Please don't move that stumbling block,

But lead me all around it.

The way may not be easy,

You didn't say that it would be

For when our tribulations get too light,

We tend to stray from Thee--

(I'm praying to you,)

Lord don't move the mountain, etc.

When my enemies would slay me,

And these things they will try to do,

Lord, don't touch him but within his heart

Make him give his heart to you.

(I'm praying to you,)

Lord, don't move the mountain, etc.

This gospel favorite was written in 1958, lyrics and music by Doris Akers and her friend, Mahalia Jackson, whose recordings of this piece we will soon discuss.

The lyrics are quite good; they provide very sound advice.  The song assumes, quite correctly I think, that everyone has a mountain of sorrow in his or her life that must be faced and overcome.  The singer isn't asking for miracles; she knows that the mountain is there to stay.  No sense praying for it to disappear; mountains don't disappear, at least during a human lifespan.  The gospel singer is requesting that she receive strength to surmount her mountain of difficulties and, presumably, get a spectacular view from the summit.

In my interpretation, the authors of this gospel tune are asking for inner strength, strength from the God within themselves, to triumph over, or at least to bear, "the inevitable difficulties and failures in life," as the Buddhists say.

The image of the mountain is quite effective; the image of the "stumbling block" is just as good.  I would like now to illustrate the significance of this metaphor with another one.  It is like a dark room of the soul, as it were; if one tries to be brave and enter it, one may never be heard of again. It is that horrible.  The only sane thing to do is to walk past it and proceed down the hall, and enter one of the many rooms in which it is possible to help oneself and to help others.  The gospel singer is asking for the inner wisdom not to confront that which is sure to lead to destruction. Faith must guide her around these impediments so that she can walk on.

3, First Interpretation: Doris Akers

Doris Akers (1923-1995) was a Renaissance woman of gospel music.  Not only did she compose many great gospel tunes, such as the one under discussion now; she was also a master at the keyboard.  She was a very skilled arranger and very able choir director as well.  Unlike many other musicians, she was good at business and was actively involved in publishing gospel music.. The Smithsonian Institution declared her in 1992 to be "the foremost black gospel singer in the United States."  She was inducted into the Gospel Hall of Fame in 2001.  What a voice!  A full, warm instrument possessed by a first-rate musician.  

I must admit, however, that I haven't warmed up to this recording.  I would like to make clear that this is merely my opinion, and is in no way meant to be authoritative.

In this recording, Akers was more interested in beauty of tone rather than in a searing emotional delivery.  The whole thing sounds a bit anemic to me.  Yes, I like gospel music that pleases, but I especially like gospel music that goes beyond entertainment, and either hits, hurts and heals, or evokes great joy.  The backup singers are fine; I just don't like the style, more reminiscent of popular music of that time. The "mountain" and "stumbling block" indicate real suffering that is to be overcome by faith--at least in my interpretation they do--In this rendition, however, you could easily replace the lyrics with something secular and few would notice the difference. The words of this tune demand a lot more than easy listening.  Once again, I stress this as merely a matter of taste; your taste could be very different and just as valid.

4. Second interpretation: Inez Andrews

I had never heard of Inez Andrews before reading her obituary in the New York Times on December 21, 2012.  The newspaper called her "the last great female vocalist of gospel's golden age." The article mentioned her greatest hit, the song which we are discussing.  I must confess my ignorance: at the time I hadn't heard of this gospel piece either.  I looked up Inez Andrews's version on YouTube and was so impressed that I posted it on a social medium.  This is fine gospel singing.

Inez was praised for her powerful and agile contralto; she had a great instrument at her command.  We hear less evidence of this in this recording, which, judging from her picture, was made very late in her career.  There is a recording of a different piece made in 1964 that does indeed reveal her remarkable voice. I would estimate that at the time of the 1964 recording she was about 200 lbs heavier; her voice might have lost some of its resonance along with the loss of weight.  No matter.  She more than makes up for it with her mature interpretive abilities so evident in this recording.  (There is another version of her singing this piece; the one we are discussing is my favorite.)

The "Bluesy" arrangement works well. How lovely the phrasing!  How expertly she comes in after the beat several times during this performance!  

I want to call your attention to a slight change in the lyrics:

When my folk would slay me,

these things they will try to do,

But Lord, don't touch 'em but within their hearts

They can give their life to you.

I don't know what the term for it is, if there is one, but listen to how she "scream-sings" the last two lines in order to provide greater emotional impact--much as black preachers are wont to do.  She does this wonderfully, with just the right balance.  The first two lines, to say the least, depict a source of great pain and sorrow for the singer.  She finds release in the last two lines--and does she ever!  There is more than a hint of anger in the voice.  The hurt and the rage, however, are given over to God.  Not only does she request that He not seek vengeance on her behalf, but to "touch their hearts" so that they change their ways and live a life of love and forgiveness.  It is a fine example of potentially negative emotions powerfully transformed into something positive --with the help of music, with the help of God. The words don't convey this emotional intensity; it is her brilliant interpretation of those words that touches us deeply.  Inez Andrews, you were one of the greats!

5. Third Interpretation: Mahalia Jackson

What can I say?  There is indeed nobody like her.  The timbre of her powerful voice is as distinctive as that of Maria Callas or of Luciano Pavarotti--and her musicianship is just as impeccable.  What I most admire is that she uses her voice with riveting intensity.  With most singers, it is evident that they are performing, attempting to please the listener--and this is how it should be.  But with Mahalia Jackson one gets a different impression.  The sincerity is overwhelming; you feel as if you are witnessing a very private and very intense prayer, a dialogue between a devout representative of humanity with the divine source of all humanity. Her best performances are so emotionally intense that you forget that it is a performance and not a spontaneous prayer. Only when you "come down" from the experience do you realize that Miss Jackson's was indeed a performance--if it wasn't, it would be art.  Everything is deliberate; she obviously practiced this piece a lot before recording it.  (There is a recording of her singing this music just after Doris Akers and she composed it, which is not as moving as this version.)

There is a subtle way, as if in quotes, in the way she sings "the mountain"--it is understated, but it helps you understand what a burden that mountain is, although there is no doubt that with the help of God she will climb over it.  You know that things have been rough--it is the human condition--by the way she sings "tribulations" at a higher pitch, delivered with the full force of that very powerful voice.  I would like now to draw attention to the way she sings "my stumbling blocks."  Everyone else sings "my" on the beat.  She syncopates it, singing "my" after an eighth-note rest.  She also sings "my stumbling blocks" very quietly.  This is a fine example of conveying a message through phrasing.  As I mentioned previously, the "stumbling block" is like a dark room of the soul that would cause serious harm to the individual who entered it.  She knows what God can and cannot do; the only possible way to reach the mountain, which God will help her climb, is to avoid those stumbling blocks completely and pray to God that He lead her around them.  The interpretation here is original and very effective.

Note that Ms. Jackson left out the stanza about people trying to slay her, which is present in the other two versions.  This stanza has a slightly paranoid quality about it, which is very far from Ms. Jackson's way of thinking.  She is solely concerned with direct communication with God. Trying to find an even remotely petty emotion in Mahalia Jackson's music is as futile as trying to light a match in the depths of the sea.

I can understand that for some who lack a raw need for a balm in Gilead might find this a bit over-the-top and exaggerated.  I can understand this view, but I do not agree with it.

This performance is breath-taking; in my view it is the best version of this gospel.

6. Homage to Mahalia Jackson

I will close this essay with a poem.

Although I only recently have become acquainted with the work of Doris Akers and that of Inez Andrews, I have been an admirer of  Mahalia Jackson for decades--I suppose it shows.  I remember tossing my little toddler son in the air, both of us laughing with joy as we listened to an album (a record in those days!) of Jackson favorites, especially the euphoric, "God Put a Rainbow in the Sky."  That was over three decades ago.  Around the same time, I composed a poem in her honor.  It won second prize in a reputable poetry contest.  I traveled from Baltimore to New York City to accept the prize, and read the poem at the 92nd Street Y.  The one who got first prize was a wonderful English professor, who wrote a very touching poem about his triumph over alcoholism.  He subsequently informed me that he admired my poem so much that he kept a copy of it on his person and showed it to "whoever would listen."  I think that was the best compliment about my poetry that I have ever received.  You deserve that compliment, Mahalia, not me!

HOMAGE TO MAHALIA JACKSON                                   


                     1.

At the very height of suffering,
most are destroyed; the wounded rest
survive to limp toward nothing
on paths short of long; lost
except for very, very few
who become immortal songs.

From her best recordings I imagine
the transport of Aquinas’s last years.
Dust has no kingdom in such music:
to her, death’s a gate we pass through
on the low road to glory; Lordy,
who can hear and believe she was wrong?


                  2.

Despite music, darkness reigns
still inside, outside us.
Which is final?  Who has ears,
hear her, singing conviction,
especially Lazarus, lost in affliction:
light, pure light, it can reach you.


                 3.

Her message was joy
because she knew
her people then
could ill afford
the luxury of sadness.

Poverty, madness,
and hate’s unbearable load
had killed far too many
for her to sing blues.
No girl’s or boy’s

lament over toys                                                    
broken in two
by hard fate in
her! On sorrow’s road
she reveals joy which is

got without illness
or drugs: (Lord,
Lord, this simple woman,
how well she knew
what God is!) love.