Today, it may no longer be so noticeable, but we must remember that Rome was once not only a spiritual beacon but also a beacon of civilization and art. The city, called “eternal,” was a destination for artists of all kinds, who established prestigious schools of art and music within the city.
This is why when we speak of sacred music, we refer to the "Roman school," a group of musicians who, over the centuries, produced splendid music for the liturgy. Saint Pius X spoke well of it in his Motu Proprio of November 22, 1903, when he discussed the qualities of sacred music, stating:
“These qualities are also excellently possessed by classical polyphony, especially of the Roman School, which in the sixteenth century reached the height of its perfection through the work of Pier Luigi da Palestrina and continued to produce compositions of excellent liturgical and musical quality. Classical polyphony fits closely with the supreme model of all sacred music, which is Gregorian chant, and for this reason, it deserved to be included, along with Gregorian chant, in the most solemn functions of the Church, such as those of the Pontifical Chapel. It must, therefore, be restored widely in ecclesiastical functions, especially in the most distinguished basilicas, cathedrals, seminaries, and other ecclesiastical institutions, where the necessary resources are usually not lacking.”
This preeminence of the Roman school was already widely recognized in the past, and Palestrina’s role as a model was clear to all those involved in Church music. The Popes merely sanctioned what had already been well understood by all. Twenty-five years after Saint Pius X's Motu Proprio, Pius XI reaffirmed the importance of the Roman school in the Constitution Divini Cultus, in which he stated:
“We wish here to recommend to those responsible for musical chapels that, succeeding the old schools over time, were established in the basilicas and major churches to perform especially polyphonic music. Sacred polyphony now rightfully holds the first place after Gregorian chant, and We strongly desire that such choirs, as they flourished from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century, be reconstituted and strengthened, especially where the greater frequency and grandeur of divine worship require a larger number of singers and a more careful selection. As for the boys' schools, they must be established not only at the major churches and cathedrals but also at the smaller and parish churches, and the boys should be educated in beautiful singing by the chapel masters so that their voices, following the ancient custom of the Church, may join the men's choirs, especially when, as always in polyphonic music, the soprano or cantus part is entrusted to them. From the ranks of these boys, especially in the sixteenth century, as is well known, emerged the best polyphonic composers, including the greatest of all, Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina.”
Pius XII, speaking about the Jubilee of 1950, expressed himself this way about Rome:
“There is nothing left, beloved children, but to urge you with fatherly exhortation to come to Rome in great numbers during the year of atonement; to Rome, which for every faithful person of every nation is like a second homeland; for here is the venerable place where the Prince of the Apostles was buried after his martyrdom; here are the sacred hypogea of the martyrs, the famous basilicas, the monuments of ancient faith and ancient piety; here is the Father who awaits them with tender affection, with open arms” (Iubilaeum Maximum 1949).
But do we still have that sense of the Romanity of the Church? Because losing this also means losing the sense of the splendor of the liturgies, such as those in the city of Rome. Today, Rome is not an example for sacred music, quite the opposite. Unfortunately, a minimalism has been embraced that demands the bare minimum in liturgy and often not even that. I am not saying this to be negative but to be realistic. For too long, I have observed, hoping for a change of direction, but it is obvious that there cannot be a reversal when it is believed that the current direction is the right one. Speaking with many people, including many priests, there is a unanimous outcry: the situation of the Church is in serious decline, and that liturgical reform, which was so heavily pursued as a renewal in beauty, has never been applied. But did the Second Vatican Council truly intend for an increasingly suffocating clericalism (though well-disguised), to drive musicians out of churches and replace them with Sunday guitarists, and for chatty priests to fill Mass with their personal thoughts, accompanied by whiny, sentimental songs? I have spoken with various people who experienced the Council, and their answer to these questions has been clear: no! These things are the result of an ideology that has used the Council to introduce ideas that had nothing to do with it.
Rome should be the model for others; it should have the best, which is how the “Roman school” arose. If one day the history of our present time is written regarding liturgical music, it should be called Lamentations. In 1824, the apologist Alessandro M. Tassoni, in his monumental treatise La religione dimostrata e difesa (also mentioned by the great Roman poet Giuseppe Gioachino Belli), said: “Since religion has its primary seat in Rome, it is fitting that the worship there be more magnificent and majestic than anywhere else.” Reading these words today while listening to the music produced in the liturgies of Rome’s churches brings a bitter smile.
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