Times article 10/10/09
10/10/09 11:36
By John
Naish
In an era when religion is increasingly hijacked by intolerance and aggression, people of different faiths often have little chance to relax together and enjoy shared experiences. This is why an eclectic array of performers such as an Indian sitar-virtuoso, a Gypsy flamenco group, an anthemic choir and an Amazonian rainforest shaman are gathering in Brighton today for the start of the city’s ten-day Festival of World Sacred Music. It is the British arm of a global network dedicated to fostering interfaith understanding through something revered by all traditions: the magic of spiritual songs.
Music and religion have been entwined since the earliest days of civilisation. The fourth book of Genesis credits Jubal, the grandson of Adam, as “the father of all those who play the harp and flute”. In the ancient city of Ur, 4,500 years ago, hymns were dedicated to Nanna, the spirit of the moon. Now, in our globalised culture, the focus is increasingly on creating cross-cultural harmony. “Brighton alone has 19 different faith communities alongside each other – and that’s not counting all the sub-sects,” says Kate Whyman, the director of the nonprofit festival. “How do you bring together people from such different traditions, as well as humanists and atheists, if not through the universal appeal of music?”
Science is beginning to understand how sacred music can spark deep human affinities. Oliver Sacks, the neurologist and author of Musicophilia: Tales Of Music And The Brain, says that spiritual songs stimulate the right temporal lobes, which are also associated with mystical or religious feelings. “Music can allow us to express that which is otherwise inexpressible,” he explains. “In a religious context, all of these aspects of music come together.”
Dr Andrew Newberg a Pennsylvania University neuroscientist, has been brain-scanning nuns while they sing hymns to see what happens to their brain chemistry when they have a religious experience. He says that the breathing patterns used in singing can reduce the flow of blood to the brain’s “orientation area”, which controls one’s sense of self. The sense of being an individual ego falls away, to be replaced by a sense of being part of something much larger.
This process, called deafferentation, is cited by atheistic scientists as evidence that religious experience can be reduced to a brain state. Other neuro-theology researchers claim to have shown how different spiritual music evokes different mystical experiences. A Japanese study in 1997 showed that repetitive rhythms can drive the brain's hypothalamus, which may foster either serenity or arousal. Incantatory hymns can trigger a sense of spiritual tranquility, while the whirling of Sufi dervishes can create a hyper-aroused sense of channelling universal energy.
Such research evidence may be interpreted more spiritually, however. Sister Celeste Crine, one of the nuns scanned in Dr Newberg’s experiments, sees it all as part of Creation revealed: “To me it is pointing in the direction that God does exist. When I’m in touch with God, when my spirit and God’s spirit are one, we see that effect in part of the brain.”
Communal music can also create the sort of alluring high that strengthens group bonds. Manchester University scientists have found that the sacculus, a balance-regulating system in the inner ear that also responds to musical frequencies, is connected to the brain's pleasure centre. The sacculus is sensitive only to low-frequency, high-intensity sounds of the type produced when we sing together in groups. This harmonious response helps to explain why a study of 12,000 Swedes has found that those who sing in choirs live longer.
In pursuit of this sense of unity, the Dalai Lama has called for the creation of multi-faith sacred song festivals worldwide: “There is something in music that transcends and unites. This is evident in the sacred music of every community,” he says. “Such music expresses the universal yearning that is shared by people all over the globe.”
In the past few years, spiritual music’s community-building power has been harnessed by a number of events across the globe, such as the biennial Munajat Festival of Traditional Mediterranean Sacred Chants, launched in 2002 in Beirut to bring together a variety of traditions - including choral renderings of Byzantine hymns and sung recitations from the Koran. Munajat is part of both Lebanese Muslim and Christian tradition; it describes the verbal communion of man with God – in this case, collectively singing man’s love for God. Hisham Shaar, one of the organisers, says: “The goal behind this Munajat is to resolve a social issue through spirituality and music.”
The network of World Sacred Music festivals to which Brighton belongs has grown on similar foundations. The group now includes Fez in Morroco, Delhi, Quebec, Girona, Michigan and Washington State. “It’s not only the gathering of people to enjoy music together that helps to build communal bonds,” says Whyman. “The nature of the music itself helps people to explore each other’s faiths, which can only help to nurture mutual understanding.” The very nature of a faith is often reflected in the structure of its sacred music. For example, monotheistic religions such as Christianity tend to express a sense of unified order having notes that relate to a tonic, and which resolve to a tonic. Polytheistic traditions such as Hinduism are far more freeform in style, with the musicians reflecting their faith’s interwoven theisms through an individualistic approach more akin to Western jazz.
Such music does not only touch the religiously inclined. Dr Sacks, an avowed non-believer, says: “Music, particularly vocal religious music, such as Bach, sometimes transports me to spheres and states of consciousness which would not be accessible otherwise. I was overwhelmed when I went to Jonathan Miller’s St Matthew Passion. Miller is a very old friend of mine, and like myself is a Jewish atheist.”
Atheists, humanists and people without a defined spirituality are all just as welcome at the Brighton festival, says Whyman. “If you’re unmoved by the likes of African drumming, anthemic choral music or ecstatic Gypsy flamenco guitar, then sadly it’s not for you. But for the rest, all you need is a soul and an open mind.”
Brighton's World Sacred Music Festival
www.worldsacredmusic.org/
In an era when religion is increasingly hijacked by intolerance and aggression, people of different faiths often have little chance to relax together and enjoy shared experiences. This is why an eclectic array of performers such as an Indian sitar-virtuoso, a Gypsy flamenco group, an anthemic choir and an Amazonian rainforest shaman are gathering in Brighton today for the start of the city’s ten-day Festival of World Sacred Music. It is the British arm of a global network dedicated to fostering interfaith understanding through something revered by all traditions: the magic of spiritual songs.
Music and religion have been entwined since the earliest days of civilisation. The fourth book of Genesis credits Jubal, the grandson of Adam, as “the father of all those who play the harp and flute”. In the ancient city of Ur, 4,500 years ago, hymns were dedicated to Nanna, the spirit of the moon. Now, in our globalised culture, the focus is increasingly on creating cross-cultural harmony. “Brighton alone has 19 different faith communities alongside each other – and that’s not counting all the sub-sects,” says Kate Whyman, the director of the nonprofit festival. “How do you bring together people from such different traditions, as well as humanists and atheists, if not through the universal appeal of music?”
Science is beginning to understand how sacred music can spark deep human affinities. Oliver Sacks, the neurologist and author of Musicophilia: Tales Of Music And The Brain, says that spiritual songs stimulate the right temporal lobes, which are also associated with mystical or religious feelings. “Music can allow us to express that which is otherwise inexpressible,” he explains. “In a religious context, all of these aspects of music come together.”
Dr Andrew Newberg a Pennsylvania University neuroscientist, has been brain-scanning nuns while they sing hymns to see what happens to their brain chemistry when they have a religious experience. He says that the breathing patterns used in singing can reduce the flow of blood to the brain’s “orientation area”, which controls one’s sense of self. The sense of being an individual ego falls away, to be replaced by a sense of being part of something much larger.
This process, called deafferentation, is cited by atheistic scientists as evidence that religious experience can be reduced to a brain state. Other neuro-theology researchers claim to have shown how different spiritual music evokes different mystical experiences. A Japanese study in 1997 showed that repetitive rhythms can drive the brain's hypothalamus, which may foster either serenity or arousal. Incantatory hymns can trigger a sense of spiritual tranquility, while the whirling of Sufi dervishes can create a hyper-aroused sense of channelling universal energy.
Such research evidence may be interpreted more spiritually, however. Sister Celeste Crine, one of the nuns scanned in Dr Newberg’s experiments, sees it all as part of Creation revealed: “To me it is pointing in the direction that God does exist. When I’m in touch with God, when my spirit and God’s spirit are one, we see that effect in part of the brain.”
Communal music can also create the sort of alluring high that strengthens group bonds. Manchester University scientists have found that the sacculus, a balance-regulating system in the inner ear that also responds to musical frequencies, is connected to the brain's pleasure centre. The sacculus is sensitive only to low-frequency, high-intensity sounds of the type produced when we sing together in groups. This harmonious response helps to explain why a study of 12,000 Swedes has found that those who sing in choirs live longer.
In pursuit of this sense of unity, the Dalai Lama has called for the creation of multi-faith sacred song festivals worldwide: “There is something in music that transcends and unites. This is evident in the sacred music of every community,” he says. “Such music expresses the universal yearning that is shared by people all over the globe.”
In the past few years, spiritual music’s community-building power has been harnessed by a number of events across the globe, such as the biennial Munajat Festival of Traditional Mediterranean Sacred Chants, launched in 2002 in Beirut to bring together a variety of traditions - including choral renderings of Byzantine hymns and sung recitations from the Koran. Munajat is part of both Lebanese Muslim and Christian tradition; it describes the verbal communion of man with God – in this case, collectively singing man’s love for God. Hisham Shaar, one of the organisers, says: “The goal behind this Munajat is to resolve a social issue through spirituality and music.”
The network of World Sacred Music festivals to which Brighton belongs has grown on similar foundations. The group now includes Fez in Morroco, Delhi, Quebec, Girona, Michigan and Washington State. “It’s not only the gathering of people to enjoy music together that helps to build communal bonds,” says Whyman. “The nature of the music itself helps people to explore each other’s faiths, which can only help to nurture mutual understanding.” The very nature of a faith is often reflected in the structure of its sacred music. For example, monotheistic religions such as Christianity tend to express a sense of unified order having notes that relate to a tonic, and which resolve to a tonic. Polytheistic traditions such as Hinduism are far more freeform in style, with the musicians reflecting their faith’s interwoven theisms through an individualistic approach more akin to Western jazz.
Such music does not only touch the religiously inclined. Dr Sacks, an avowed non-believer, says: “Music, particularly vocal religious music, such as Bach, sometimes transports me to spheres and states of consciousness which would not be accessible otherwise. I was overwhelmed when I went to Jonathan Miller’s St Matthew Passion. Miller is a very old friend of mine, and like myself is a Jewish atheist.”
Atheists, humanists and people without a defined spirituality are all just as welcome at the Brighton festival, says Whyman. “If you’re unmoved by the likes of African drumming, anthemic choral music or ecstatic Gypsy flamenco guitar, then sadly it’s not for you. But for the rest, all you need is a soul and an open mind.”
Brighton's World Sacred Music Festival
www.worldsacredmusic.org/