SLEEPYHEAD . . .

Zzzzzzzzzz . . .

Please, don't wake me. 

No, don't shake me. 

Leave me where I am. 

I'm only sleeping . . . 

-John Lennon and Paul McCartney

It’s the lack of sleep that gets to me, more than anything else. I’m talking about my creative pursuits and how they necessitate my staying up into the wee hours of early morning. In the summer of 2016, I spent many continuous hours in the recording studio, co-producing, arranging, and playing bass on Fish With Me,  the Jesse Manibusan / Ken Canedo second album and follow-up to 2003’s Love Never Fails. During the autumn months of 2017, with a December deadline quickly looming, I was up almost every night until 3:00 in the morning, in the final writing and re-writing for From Mountains High, my second book after 2009’s Keep the Fire Burning.  And here I am again, in latter 2019, working with Bob Hurd on We Should Glory,  our second collaboration since Alleluia! Give the Glory  in 1992. 

It’s certainly not unusual for artists to work non-stop while on a creative tear. Stories abound on how the Beatles became oblivious to time while they were in the studio working on their masterpiece albums like Sgt. Pepper  and The White Album.  John Steinbeck was famously an early riser who started each day by writing non-stop well into the afternoon. George Frederic Handel composed his magnum opus, The Messiah,  in a mere 24 days, working furiously after he received the libretto from Charles Jennens. No, I am definitely not Handel, Steinbeck, or the Beatles, but my point is that creative people sometimes drop everything and work non-stop when inspiration strikes. 

I wish I had that luxury, but the truth is I have a day job with OCP as Music Development Specialist and I can’t work on my own music or books during office hours, strange as that sounds. Hence, my need to work late into the night or during vacation for my creative projects. And during breaks in the studio sessions, I try to keep up with emails and tasks from my day job. 

The lack of sleep these past couple of weeks is exacerbated by my amazing trip to the Vatican on November 5-10. The quick time zone adjustments have been jarring to my internal clock, and I immediately went to the OCP studio on Monday morning after returning from Rome late Sunday night. As they say, no rest for the weary!

Over the next several blogs, I will share background and info on this new Hurd-Canedo album of liturgical music. It is shaping up to be something special, beyond what Bob and I originally envisioned. 

More to come! 

MEETING POPE FRANCIS

Saturday 9 November 2019 

Vatican City, Rome 

We were gently warned that although the agenda of our conference included a private audience with Pope Francis, there was no guarantee that it would actually happen, depending on his schedule (that Saturday was the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, the Pope’s cathedral as the Bishop of Rome), and on how he was feeling that morning. Our anticipation was therefore tempered by the possibility of disappointment, and understandably so. 

Nevertheless, conference attendees were noticeably dressed to the nines that morning. The ladies wore tasteful dresses, the men were in dark suits and ties, and the priests wore their cassocks. Former NPM President Rick Hilgartner looked quite dashing in his monsignor cassock with bright purple buttons and piping. We attended the Saturday morning presentations nonchalantly, and nobody really spoke of the possibility of a papal encounter. Then, at 10:30, electricity filled the air when one of the conference emcees took the microphone and said in English and Italian, “We’re going upstairs now to the Apostolic Palace. Please leave your coats and notebooks here in the conference room.” 

We were escorted through the Vatican’s maze of endless hallways and staircases – flights and flights of stairs! I’m convinced that these long upward climbs were designed to give the bishops and cardinals daily exercise. But because of the slick marble steps, I had to carefully hang onto the rails for safety. One slip in this large crowd and several people might go tumbling down like ecclesial bowling pins. 

Our group trudged up the stairways with quiet but eager anticipation. The presence of the Swiss Guard, in full colorful regalia, was an indication that our destination was near. We were ushered into the Sala de Consistero, a bright and intimate room with 200 plush chairs set up auditorium style. The walls were ornately decorated in baroque style, of course. Is there such a thing as a blank wall at the Vatican? I was unsure where to sit but, as usual, Virgil Funk found his way to the front and motioned me toward him. Somehow, he sneaked his way into the second row, behind a row of bishops and monsignors. I felt unworthy but if anyone asked me how I ended up sitting so close to the podium I would simply say, “I’m with Father Funk.” 

There was a low, reverent buzz in the room. People were talking but quietly, like in church. I chuckled to myself at that thought. Here at the Vatican, EVERY room is in church. As we waited, I started getting fidgety, and I was slightly hyperventilating. I would soon meet the Vicar of Christ! I calmed myself down the only way I knew – by praying the rosary. The Joyful Mysteries seemed most appropriate, and the repetition of Hail Marys was truly the music whose charms soothed this savage Catholic beast. 

A tuxedoed protocol official distributed a printed handout of the Holy Father’s upcoming remarks, translated in English since he would be addressing us in Italian. I read it quickly and marveled at the depth of his wisdom and compassion. And then suddenly, through a side door, Pope Francis entered. We stood on our feet and applauded. I was a bit surprised because I thought he might process down the middle aisle from the back, but he entered casually and looked out eagerly at our group with that wonderful smile of his. 

We took our seats and Cardinal Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council on Culture, presented our group to the Holy Father, who listened attentively from his simple chair, which was not a throne and not ornately decorated. I’m not sure what the cardinal said (it was in Italian) but it must have been good because everyone applauded as Pope Francis embraced him. Then the pontiff turned to us and shared his reflections on music ministry. 

The interpreter of music has much in common with the biblical scholar, with the proclaimer of God’s word, but also with those who seek to interpret the signs of the times, and, even more generally, with all those – and each of us should be one of them! – who are open and attentive to others in sincere dialogue.  Every Christian, in fact, is an interpreter of the will of God in his her own life, and by his or her life sings a joyful hymn of praise and thanksgiving to God.  Through that song, the Church interprets the Gospel as she makes her pilgrim way through history.  The Blessed Virgin Mary did this in an exemplary way in her  Magnificat,  while the saints interpret the will of God by their lives and mission . . .  

You can read Pope Francis’ complete address here: Pope Calls on Musicians to be Joyful Interpreters of Music

It was a very warm and affirming talk. His remarks concluded, it was now time for each of us to meet the Holy Father. The row of bishops and monsignors in front of me greeted him first, including Msgr. Hilgartner. I took a deep breath as I walked slowly up the reception line. What does one say to the Vicar of Christ on Earth? The protocol official advised us to be brief. Virgil said I should introduce myself, where I’m from, and what I do. I think I said all that, and I also asked the Holy Father to pray for me and my family and friends. I am actually cloudy on what exactly I said. I now understand how Saint Peter felt when he encountered Jesus, Moses and Elijah on Mount Tabor during the Transfiguration. Peter was basically so in awe that he could only babble off at the mouth. 

What I remember the most is how the Holy Father warmly grasped my hand, smiled, and looked directly into my eyes in an exchange of love and respect that relied not on words but on genuine presence. It is really difficult to explain but for me that brief moment will last forever. I feel as if my life has changed, and my encounter with the Holy Father will lift me up at those times when I am feeling lost or alone or unworthy. Pope Francis looked into my heart and saw how much I love Jesus. I looked into his eyes and saw the face of Christ. 

God is so good. 

(Photo: Servizio Fotografico Vaticano)

VESPERS IN THE SISTINE CHAPEL

Friday 8 November 2019 
Vatican City, Rome

                        

The academic presentations continued on Friday but this evening a very special event was scheduled: Vespers sung by the Sistine Choir in the Sistine Chapel. Let that sink in for a minute. We were in the sacred space where the College of Cardinals gather in conclave to elect a new Pope; the same sacred space whose walls and ceilings were ornately painted by Michelangelo with the iconic images of the Creation, the Life of Christ, and the Last Judgment. This very chapel is one of the great artistic masterpieces in the history of civilization. And we delegates of the Third International Conference of the Pontifical Council for Culture would celebrate Solemn Vespers here! 

Anyone who has been to Rome knows that photography is not allowed in the Sistine Chapel. In fact, when I last visited in 2013, a young man was brusquely removed by the Vatican guards when he dared to defy the No Photos ban. Yet tonight, here we were, happily snapping away on our smartphone cameras as we took our seats. How did we rate this rare privilege? We were certainly grateful. 

Before I go on, please allow me a quick explanation for casual readers of my blog. Vespers is Evening Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours, the Catholic Church’s official daily prayer that is celebrated by priests and sisters, religious communities and seminaries, and lay people who desire to pray with the Church. The Liturgy of the Hours utilizes a different format than the Mass. In fact, the Eucharist isn’t even involved with the Hours, which designates prayer at certain times of the day: Morning (Lauds), Daytime Prayer, Evening (Vespers), and Night (Compline). There is also an Office of Readings (formerly Matins) that can be prayed at any hour of the day and focuses on readings from the Bible and the writings of the ancient Church Fathers. The idea of the Liturgy of the Hours is to make each day holy. Those who pray the Hours are obliged to pray for the Church, which means that at every hour of the day, someone in the world is praying for YOU. 

The Psalms are the primary prayer of each hour. For Vespers, we pray two psalms and a hymn or canticle from the New Testament, followed by a brief biblical reading and reflection, Mary’s Magnificat, and Intercessions. Vespers concludes with the Lord’s Prayer. Liturgy of the Hours is normally recited if prayed individually or in a small group. A religious community might choose to sing portions of the hour. Since our celebration of Vespers was in the Sistine Chapel, everything would be sung. We were in the Vatican, after all, and the people would alternate the singing of the chants and hymns with the renowned Sistine Choir. 

Solemn Vespers are presided by a priest, and our presider tonight was Monsignor Guido Marini. I admit I did not give much notice to that name when I saw it on the cover of the printed worship aid. But when we stood in the assembly to begin the liturgy, I was pleasantly shocked to see that our presider was none other than Pope Francis’ Master of Ceremonies for all major papal liturgies in Rome and around the world. Oh, THAT Monsignor Marini. Wow! 

And so we began this amazing celebration of Vespers. “Deus, in adiutorium meum intende,” (God, come to my assistance) Monsignor Marini intoned. “Domine, ad adiuvandum me festina,” (Lord, make haste to help me) we responded. This celebration was bilingual, alternating between Latin and Italian. The psalms and New Testament canticle were a melodious dialogue between people and choir, whose harmonies previewed heaven. After the reading from James 1:2-4, Monsignor Marini shared a brief homily. I could not understand his Italian but his warm tone and heartfelt delivery spoke volumes. My knowledge of Latin helped me discern an emerging theme: love, faith, and the call to holiness through our ministry. 

All too quickly, Vespers was over. But the Sistine Choir, who had been hidden in a choir loft, suddenly walked down the aisle. To our delight, the Choir was going to treat us to a post-liturgy concert from the sanctuary steps. They were dressed in traditional red cassock and white surplice, and I was surprised to see that their number included two rows of boys. That explained the high notes we heard from the loft. As they sang through their choral revue, my heart was filled with gratitude. 

Seeing those kids reminded me of how I used to sing in the CCD Children’s Choir at my home parish when I was their age and the Mass was still in Latin. I teared up emotionally when I realized that the Church has always been there for me and my family ever since I was a young child. Sure, I’ve had my ups and downs over the years with the Church, which certainly has had to deal with its own faults and imperfections. But my relationship with Jesus Christ has been a constant positive force in my life, nurtured consistently by the ministry of the Catholic Church. As I sat in the breathtaking Sistine Chapel, soaking in the soaring choral music here at the worldwide headquarters of this ancient Church, I could only pray, “Deo, Gratias.” 

The concert over, we all reverted into tourists, posing for selfies and group shots in front of Michelangelo’s magnificent frescoes. After all, when would we ever have this opportunity again? And then Virgil Funk tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Let me take a photo of you and Monsignor Marini.” I turned and noticed that I was standing just a few feet away from him in the sanctuary. Virgil snapped several photos as he introduced me. 

“This is Ken Canedo, an American liturgical composer from Portland, Oregon.” I smiled and shook Monsignor’s hand. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, Monsignor. Thank you for your homily and for the beautiful Vespers.” 

He smiled back and said gently, “God bless your good work.” 

Next blog: Meeting Pope Francis

CHURCH, MUSIC, INTERPRETERS: REFLECTIONS ON THE CONFERENCE

Thursday 7 November 2019

Vatican City, Rome

This conference is sponsored by the Pontifical Council on Culture and the theme focus is “Church, Music, Interpreters: a Necessary Dialogue.” The lectures and workshops are split between Italian and English speakers, with United Nations-style simultaneous translation. This is my first experience with the process, and it has been challenging. 

First, there is an equipment challenge. The earpiece is designed to fit over the left ear but because I wear hearing aids I have to hold the piece to my left aid during the whole lecture, resulting in arm fatigue. Second, there’s the phenomenon of hearing two languages simultaneously. A professional interpreter has the seemingly magical ability to hear one language and repeat it in another language almost simultaneously, but this is a jarring juxtaposition for the listener. Eventually, the ear can be trained to discriminate and hear only the translation while blocking out the original language, but this is difficult because the speaker’s voice is so loud over an auditorium’s sound system. My hearing-impairment actually works in my favor because I can turn off my right hearing aid and hear only the translator in my left ear. 

According to my colleagues, the lectures are given in European style, which essentially means  the professor is reading his or her paper straight, word for word, in a dry presentation. The content is certainly well researched and organized but there is none of the interactive engagement that American audiences are accustomed to on the higher education or industry conference level. This is an international peer-to-peer gathering of professional musicologists, liturgists and ecclesiastics that has been opened up to parish musicians who have the means and desire to raise the bar in the knowledge of their craft. 

That said, the conference presentations are vital and interesting. Presenters are an impressive worldwide Who’s Who, addressing and expanding on the theme: Church (Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council on Culture and eminent Old Testament scholar); Music (Father Theo Flurry, OSB, titular organist at Einsiedeln Abbey who gave an impassioned and inspiring demonstration on the spiritual dimensions of improvisation on the pipe organ); Interpreter (Dr. Pawel Lukaszewski, Vice-Rector and head of composition at Fryderyk Chopin University of Music in Warsaw). 

Dr. Lukaszewski’s presentation on “The Language of the Composer” really spoke to me since we share a common ministry as composer. Although his focus is on contemporary classical music and mine is contemporary popular, his points are applicable to both disciplines: Knowledge of music and mastery of the craft of composition are important, but they are only the means, not the end. The true goal of liturgical composition is the sacred, which begins when the compositional craft ends. This is because an excessive concentration on technical matters prevents a composer from reaching into the deeper level of music. PRAYER is the key that will lead text, emotions, tempo, dynamics, melody and other musical language to sacrum, truth, beauty, God. Dr. Lukaszewski cites Pope Pius X: “Sacred music should . . . possess in the highest degree the quantities proper to the liturgy, and in particular sanctity and goodness of form, which will spontaneously produce the final quality of universality.” The professor played recordings of his own works that were stunning examples of his craft. 

There was a very interesting presentation on polyphony by Giovanni Acciai, who is professor of Musical Paleography at the Conservatory of Milan. He posited that polyphony thrived as the next direction for sacred music after Gregorian chant because of the influence and changes brought about by humanistic ideas in the fields of poetry, music, science and astronomy. Palestrina and his contemporaries were expressing their times by dressing poetic sacred texts in an over-layered compositional form, utilizing vocal techniques that went beyond the relatively straightforward approach of chant. 

Intercultural perspectives were discussed in presentations on music and dance in the Mediterranean area (Pino di Lucia, SJ, PhD); Church music in Colombia (Egberto Bermudez); and a stirring performance on Cuban baroque music by Ancient Music Ensemble Ars Longa of Havana. There were many more presentations by world renowned experts too numerous for me to mention in this short summary. 

This Third International Conference of the Pontifical Council for Culture was truly rich and enlightening. As Pope Francis expressed in his closing remarks to our group, “I hope that the work accomplished in these days may prove to be for everyone a stimulating experience of the Gospel, of liturgical life, and of service to the Church and culture.” 

Next Blog: Vespers in the Sistine Chapel

THE ETERNAL CITY

Wednesday 6 November / Thursday 7 November 2019
Vatican City, Rome

While still recovering from jet lag, my companions and I got together in the hotel lobby of the Residenza Paulo VI to discuss our plans for the evening. The sacred music conference didn't begin until Thursday, so we essentially had a free evening in Rome. There certainly would not be a lack of things to do and see here in the Eternal City. I’m traveling with a delegation from my parish: Virgil Funk, Chris and Teresa Gniewosz, and Carol Lowry. Such a great group, and Virgil is the perfect tour guide because of his knowledge of history and his many experiences at the Vatican. 

One thing that struck me immediately as we walked the narrow cobblestone streets is the warmth and welcome of the locals. Romans are famous for their hospitality and, as visitors, we are very reassured by the kindness of strangers who are more than happy to give directions and restaurant recommendations. Our dinner at Da Carla Pizzeria was amazing, from the friendly staff and the complimentary appetizers, to the stunning main dishes. I had the Linguini Vongole e Funghi Porcini. Five Star dinner, for sure. 

I wrote extensively on the various iconic sites of Rome in my blogs of 2013. My focus on this visit is on the conference but I certainly will look forward to seeing many of the great churches again. 

On Wednesday we visited two sacred sites that share a common Roman heritage — the Pantheon, a former temple, now a Catholic church, that was originally completed by Emperor Hadrian in 126 AD; and the Chiesa di Sant’Agnese in Agone, a 17th century Baroque church on the Piazza Navona where St. Agnes was martyred in the ancient Stadium of Domitian. 

Thursday morning, before the start of the conference, we did a quick tour of the Castel Sant’Angelo, which started out as a mausoleum for Emperor Hadrian and his family, and was later used as a fortress and castle by Popes Nicholas III, Clement VII, Leo X, and Paul III in the 14th and 15th centuries. It was here that the popes hid from public view during a period of great instability as the papacy transitioned rather violently from its status as a temporal power. 

This is why Rome is called the Eternal City. There is a palpable sense of history here that is unmatched in Western Civilization, extending from the glory days of the Roman Empire through the Catholic Church’s medieval heyday, and onward through the rise and fall of the Papal States to Vatican City’s current status as the world’s smallest country, with 1.2 billion “citizens,” i.e., the worldwide membership of the Catholic Church. 

When I walk the streets of Rome, I am overwhelmed by the stunning contrast between ancient history and modern hospitality. The locals know their heritage and take great pride in it. It’s the reason I will try and come back to visit the Eternal City as often as I can. 

Next Blog: The Conference Itself

TIME ZONES / TIME BANDIT

Tuesday 5 November / Wednesday 6 November 2019 

Up in the Sky, just breaking free of North America as we cross the Atlantic 

Reporter: How did you find America? 

John Lennon: Turn left at Greenland. 

As I type this, it is 6:30pm on Tuesday in Portland, Oregon. However, it’s 3:30am on Wednesday in Amsterdam, our first stop. It’s a nine hour flight, surely an endurance test on biorhythms and posture. I am trying to force myself into the European time zone, and after a delicious early dinner at 3:00pm (thank you, Delta), I did fall asleep for a few hours, no doubt due to generous complimentary wine and cocktails (thank you, Delta!). But here I am, wide awake in the wee hours, Amsterdam time. 

As a regular traveler throughout the United States, I’m used to time zone jumping. I utilize a Zen approach: “Be in the zone, no matter what time zone!” But international traveling gets me every time, and I always forget that I might gain or lose a day, depending on which continent I’m heading toward. When I flew to Manila in 2015, I left Portland on Tuesday, arrived at midnight, and thanked God that I had a whole day to sleep in because my first meeting was on Thursday. So I was rudely shocked when I received a phone call in my hotel room from Fr. Ricky Manalo. “Ken, where are you? The meeting has already started and we’re waiting for you!” 

I looked at my calendar in a daze. “But I thought the meeting is tomorrow.” 

“Ken, it IS tomorrow!” said Ricky. “You lost a day when you flew to Manila!” 

Yikes! How embarrassing. I jumped out of bed, got showered and dressed, and ran to my meeting. And the same thing just happened on this trip to Rome. I made hotel reservations for Tuesday night at the  Residenza Paulo VI, right across the plaza from the Vatican. But my first night is really on Wednesday. I would have lost big money on a wasted night if not for an alert travel agent, who graciously corrected my mistake. 

So what day is this? What time is it? Please don’t ask me such silly questions until I touch down in Europe. 

SACRED MUSIC CONFERENCE, VATICAN CITY 2019

Tuesday 5 November 2019

Portland International Airport 

My flight departed Portland at 12:30pm. Such a blessed relief! When I fly to the East Coast my departure time is usually at 6:00am or other such ghastly hour. Today’s flight on Tuesday gets me to Amsterdam at 9:12am on Wednesday. From there, we travel to Rome at 11:55am. 

I was invited to attend a sacred music conference at the Vatican sponsored by the Pontifical Council of Culture. The theme is “Church, Music, Interpreters” and there will be many choir directors, composers and musicians from around the world, soaking in the wisdom of renowned international speakers. This will be my second visit to Rome and my third encounter with Pope Francis. In 2013, I was in the Eternal City with Father Paul Wicker and friends from Holy Apostles Parish in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where I led a Lenten mission in 2010. We participated in the Pope’s General Audience in St. Peter’s Square with tens of thousands of other pilgrims on a chilly but sunny October morning. It was a thrill to see the Holy Father’s smiling face up close as he drove past us and blessed us from the Popemobile. 

My second encounter with Francis was in Manila when he visited the Philippines in January 2015. My buddy Jesse Manibusan and I were part of the music program in a pre-Papal event at the University of Santo Tomas. It was certainly one of the most exciting gigs that Jesse and I ever did together, and from that experience we hatched the beginnings of our FISH WITH ME album that was 
released by OCP in 2016. Pope Francis was his usual charismatic self, charming  the multitude with his mastery of simple gestures that bring such a personal touch to his Papal Visits. Most memorable was his unannounced visit to a downtown orphanage after the conclusion of a prayer service in the cathedral. 

This conference includes a special Vespers service on Friday evening led by the Sistine Choir in the Sistine Chapel. And on Saturday we conference participants will have a private audience with the Holy Father in the Apostolic Palace.  I suspect these three days will be a highlight of my life and career as a liturgical composer. God is good!