I was all set to call this last Opener of 2025 “Flagships and Tugboats” and that’s definitely part of what’s on my mind. But only part.
Critical mass, in the strictest sense, is defined as the minimum mass of fissile material needed for a sustained nuclear chain reaction. Or, by extension, what’s the least amount of some very potent stuff you need, to not only make a splash, but to keep the thing going?
Where I live, for example, Critical Mass is the name of a form of direct collective action in which people travel, at an agreed location and time, as a sufficiently large group on bicycles to ride safely through their streets. It’s satisfying. And gets a reaction. But what will it take to become self-sustaining? Maybe even help change the world a little?
Setting aside the “Critical” part for the moment, let’s just look at “Mass.” As a musical term, it still most often refers to composed works that set to music Christian liturgical texts surrounding the shared experience of Holy Communion. Sometimes these are sung a cappella; sometimes accompanied by instrumental obbligatos, up to and including a full orchestral score.
Over time, they have morphed into concert works, rather than the musical clothing for the celebration of an actual mass. In most concert settings, however, attendees have to wait for intermission to eat and drink, which sort of misses the central point of the Eucharistic shared experience. But concerts such as these bring this music into the ears, and sometimes hearts, of a lot more people these days. And of course, the Mass is not only the only sacred scaffolding for composers. Sprawling oratorios became the pop concerts (including sing-alongs) in the latter part of the 19th century, offering an exhilaratingly nice time, while ensuring that “naughty” got left at the door.
At some point, the simple act of gathering in numbers to listen, and even get to sing along, becomes the individual act of devotion, whether it be in the form of a mass or oratorio, within the wider constructs of lyric theatre. The point is to illuminate something sacred, ask important questions, and connect with one another on a deep level about things where sometimes words alone are not enough. And sometimes achieve the minimum mass of common cause needed to keep something of critical importance moving along.
Like those urban cyclists gathering in sufficient numbers to feel safe, voluntary shared experience makes a darkening season feel warmer and safer, whether we lift our voices in praise, or at the other end of the spectrum, exercise the right to be just plain uproariously silly. Because if we cannot get together and just laugh until we cry, we are all in serious trouble.
Flagships and tugboats?
The point is this. Print has always been our flagship publication, while at the same time carrying the cargo essential to our readers – timely information about opportunities for engagement with live music as an act of devotion in the broadest possible sense. But having settled into a bimonthly print cycle, timeliness is the commodity that is most at risk. Six new listings have come into my inbox while writing this, hours away from going to press.
So enjoy the plethora of what’s here. But please, if you haven’t already, use the QR code or web link on page 24 to sign up for our Weekly Updates. Moving forward, they are the tugboats of our fleet, coming and going with an alacrity print can’t match.
David Perlman can be reached at publisher@thewholenote.com
