Stockhausen’s “Gesang der Jünglinge” and the Catholic Body

Detail of  "The story of Daniel and the Three Youths in the Fiery Furnace", by Adrianoupolitis Konstantinos (fl. C17th),

In 1954, Karlheinz Stockhausen’s proposal to write an “electronic mass” to be performed in Cologne Cathedral was rejected. Given that the piece he composed in its place, Gesang der Jünglinge [“Song of the Youths”] made use of both a recorded boy soprano and a biblical text, perhaps it is unsurprising that much of the discourse surrounding Gesang’s inception concerns itself with the composer’s devout Catholicism.[1] However, there is yet to be any serious enquiry into the theological resonances at work within Gesang beyond surface-level programmaticism. As well as providing an unexplored approach to an already much-discussed text, this essay will suggest that Catholic theology, and more specifically a Catholic theology of the body, has the potential to draw together several strands of what is at stake in Gesang analysis: the human voice and the synthesised sound; the comprehensible word and the abstract electronic impulse; spatiality, unity, purity, rupture, and corruption. Within the wider historical context of electronic music in 1950s France and Germany, I will propose that issues such as sanctity, embodiment, and speech, when addressed by a theology of the body, have the potential to reframe the divergent approaches of musique concrète and elektronische Musik, between which Gesang already occupies a mythologically reconciling position.




Form and Text

When Stockhausen began work on Gesang at the Westdeutscher Rundfunk (WDR) studio in Cologne, he had already composed three pieces of electronic music: a konkrete Etüde (1952), realised in Pierre Schaeffer's Paris musique concrète studio, followed by two elektronische Studien (1953 and 1954) in Cologne. As their titles suggest, these pieces were all considered exploratory “studies” in these two still-young approaches to electronic composition. While musique concrète made use of microphones to, in Schaeffer’s words, “collect concrete sounds, wherever they came from, and to abstract the musical values they were potentially containing”, the WDR studio generated immediately “abstract” sound using electronic impulses on magnetic tape.[2] What sets Gesang apart from these “studies” and renders it, in the words of Pascal Decroupet and Elena Ungeheuer, “an opus, in the most emphatic sense of the term”, is a synthesising project: “the idea of unifying vocal sounds and electronically produced sounds”.[3]


Stockhausen’s approach to integrating the human voice into electronic composition drew extensively from Werner Meyer-Eppler’s lectures in phonetics, of which he spoke highly; according to Robin Maconie, it was consequently “an inevitability that the composer’s increasingly sophisticated knowledge of acoustics and phonetics should find expression in a music with words”.[4] Dividing his text into elementary phonetic components, Stockhausen arranged them onto a continuum according to their overtone structures, which he then mapped onto similarly structured electronic sounds: vowels onto sine tones, plosive consonants onto impulses (or “clicks”), and fricatives and sibilants onto filtered electronically generated noise. Stockhausen then arranged these scales of sonic makeup into matrices, ranging from discreet events to polyphonic “complexes”.[5] Along with other parameters including pitch, volume, and duration, he treated this new compositional gamut serially, in pursuit of a totalising structure.[6] The text in question is the “Song of the Youths”, sung by twelve-year-old treble Josef Protschka, who reproduced sine-tone pitch exemplars at Stockhausen’s behest across a series of recording sessions.[7]



Preiset (Jubelt) den(m) Herrn, ihr Werke alle des Hernn—
lobt ihn und über alles erhebt ihn in Ewigkeit.

Preiset den Herrn, ihr Engel des Herrn—
preiset den Herrn, ihr Himmel droben.

Preiset den Herrn, ihr Wasser alle, die über den Himmeln sind—
preiset den Herrn, ihr Scharen alle des Herrn.

Preiset den Herrn, Sonne und Mond—
preiset den Herrn, des Himmels Sterne.

Preiset den Herrn, aller Regen und Tau—
preiset den Herrn, alle Winde.

Preiset den Herrn, Feuer und Sommersglut—
preiset den Herrn, Kälte und starrer Winter.

Preiset den Herrn, Tau und des Regens Fall—
preiset den Herrn, Eis und Frost.

Preiset den Herrn, Reif und Schnee—
preiset den Herrn, Nächte und Tage.

Preiset den Herrn, Licht und Dunkel—
preiset den Herrn, Blitze und Wolken.


(O all ye works of the Lord—
praise (exalt) ye the Lord above all forever.


O ye angels of the Lord, praise ye the Lord—
O ye heavens, praise ye the Lord.

O all ye waters that are above heaven, praise ye the Lord—
O all ye hosts of the Lord, praise ye the Lord.

O ye sun and moon, praise ye the Lord—
O ye stars of heaven, praise ye the Lord.

O every shower and dew, praise ye the Lord—
O all ye winds, praise ye the Lord.

O ye fire and summer’s heat, praise ye the Lord
O ye cold and hard winter, praise ye the Lord.

O ye dew and fall of rain, praise ye the Lord—
O ye ice and frost, praise ye the Lord.

O ye hoar frost and snow, praise ye the Lord—
O ye nights and days, praise ye the Lord.

O ye light and darkness, praise ye the Lord—
O ye lightning and clouds, praise ye the Lord.



A benedicite, or song of praise, the “Song of the Youths” is an apocryphal insert between Daniel 3:23 and 3:24 that was a popular addition to Catholic liturgy in the twentieth century, particularly before the second Vatican council, and Stockhausen has remarked upon its familiarity among German-speaking Roman Catholics.[8] Daniel 3’s eponymous youths, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, are thrown into a “fiery furnace” by the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, as punishment for refusing to bow down before his image. Rather than being made martyrs, however, they are joined in the flames by a mysterious fourth figure, and emerge unscathed (see the painting that heads this blog for Konstantinos's particularly vivid depiction). Several of Gesang’s commentators hear “electronic fire” programmatically subsuming the voice of the boy.[9] However, it is important to note that the “Song of the Youths” makes no direct reference to the events of the Daniel 3. Its eleven couplets (only the first nine of which are set by Stockhausen), beginning with the imperative “O all ye works of the Lord—/praise ye the Lord above all forever”, simply list those “works”, from divine firmaments to earthly elements, with the refrain “preiset den Herrn” (“praise ye the Lord”).


The calling of inanimate natural objects to praise is a fairly common formula in the Hebrew bible, albeit usually in smaller, isolated phrases—most famously in Isaiah 55:12 (“the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,/ and all the trees of the field will clap their hands”), but also in what Claus Westermann terms the “imperative psalms”.[10] However, given that this is an extended hymn, generally agreed to have been interpolated into Daniel 3 around 100BCE as a form of early Pharisaism, it has more of a double-voiced function.[11] “All ye works of the Lord” is an umbrella term that tacitly includes the listener as a created entity, as much called to praise as the heavens and the natural elements. The refrain, especially in modern liturgical contexts, consequently has a corporate function of which Stockhausen was keenly aware, writing that “the words have been memorised, and the important thing is that they have been memorised”, whereby “speech becomes ritual”.[12] The didactic slant which this Pharisaism places on the story of the three youths, then, is that they are exemplars of godly living, in this case “suffering for righteousness’s sake”.[13] As Danna Nolan Fewell frames it, “we hoped for deliverance from the fire; we had not expected deliverance within the fire [….] God doesn’t extinguish the fire but joins them in it”.[14] This model of redemption, by protection throughout suffering rather than deliverance from it altogether, was a poignant one for Stockhausen. He has written that he considered himself to be “a youth in the fiery furnace”, devout amid the uncertainties of an early career, and in certain ways harrowed by the events of the Second World War.[15] He fosters an almost monastic image of the period of his life within which he composed Gesang: “rise early, go to church, work hard all day, and go to sleep in prayer”.[16]


As a twentieth-century “youth”, Stockhausen addressed his text’s imperatives to praise by developing a seven-stage qualitative scale of linguistic comprehensibility, which he subjected to permutations.[17] Each level of comprehensibility can be heard during the first section:
  • 0:10    Level 5
  • 0:15    Level 1 (least comprehensible)
  • 0:20    Level 2
  • 0:27    Level 6
  • 0:28    Level 7 (most comprehensible)
  • 0:34    Level 3
  • 0:42    Level 4
Nevertheless, the “preiset den Herrn” refrain is presented clearly in its original order at least once in each section.[18] “Whenever language emerges momentarily from the sound signals”, Stockhausen writes, “it praises God”.[19] While Ross Chait’s assertion that Stockhausen’s degrees of comprehensibility are a subtle but direct reference to the sixteenth-century Council of Trent is perhaps dubious, his suggestion that Gesang exemplifies a “new method of testament”—a sort of avant-garde evangelism—is bolstered by Stockhausen’s conscious pursuit of music which didn’t smell of the church (immediately leading most people to say, ‘that’s nothing for me’) but is unmistakably experienced as spiritual.[20] Nevertheless, specifically ecclesiastical resonances in Gesang abound beyond its text, and it is to these, beginning with the spatial and progressing to the directly embodied, that I will now turn.


Spatiality and Sanctity

According to Michael Kurtz, Cologne Cathedral rejected Stockhausen’s proposed electronic mass because loudspeakers were deemed “inappropriate” for a sanctified place.[21] Several writers have commented in turn on how Gesang evokes a cathedral space. As well as the choral resonances of the boy treble voice (Stockhausen was a chorister himself as a child), and the echoes of the “era of plainsong and modal polyphony” that Peter Manning hears in Stockhausen’s contrapuntal combinations of electronically generated and sung recorded sounds, Chait hears “timbral ventures” that “imitate organs and bells”, and post-Medieval choral hierarchies of “precentor, succentor, first cantors”, and so on.[22] More trenchant still, given Cologne Cathedral’s grounds for rejection, is the way in which Stockhausen employs several loudspeakers to create a heightened sense of space. No previous electronic composition had been designed for more than one loudspeaker, and by controlling the placement of these sound sources, he could “distribute” Gesang “around and above the audience”, “enveloping the listeners in the work’s polyphony”.[23] Initially intending to use six loudspeakers, Stockhausen settled for five, not having the resources to suspend the sixth from the ceiling. The fifth speaker was installed on the stage in front of the audience for its Cologne premiere (figure 1), in an effort to surround them.[24] Like its other serial aspects, Gesang’s spatiality is tightly controlled; Smalley describes it as “an extremely complicated matter that scholars have only recently begun to unravel”, and the manuscript extract in figure 2 is expressed in layers for each.[25]

Figure 1: Premiere of Gesang der Jünglinge, May 30, 1956, WDR Cologne.


Figure 2: Excerpt from the manuscript of Gesang der Jünglinge. L1 - L5 indicate the layers assigned to each of the five loudspeakers. Black numbers below the horizontal lines indicate length in centimeters of sound durations (76.2 cm = 1 sec.). Red numbers indicate sound groups.


The sense of not only composition but the construction of a space, in which the listener is enveloped, carries embodied and sometimes sanctified implications. Writing again in terms of the cathedral, Chait hears similar “depths and spatial configurations” to the broad acoustic arrangements of choirs and orators:
“by treating foreground and background voices with hard pans and extreme dynamic variations Stockhausen is able to sonically imitate the process of navigating the spaces of the church”.[26]
Stephen Plank has detailed the liturgical processes by which the sonic and spatial cartography of Catholic worship articulates a movement from the secular to the sacred in a similar manner: solemnly processing the Gospel into the nave, facing east for the Creed, ascending to a pulpit, and genuflecting towards the ground are all liturgical motions which mark certain Holy territories.[27] Perhaps their accompanying soundscapes of responsorial chant, corporate pronouncements, and punctuating silences, are as audible in Gesang as its “hard pans”.[28] Following Thomas Aquinas’s view that sanctity is a state “communicated by God” to people, places, and objects that entirely give themselves over to his service, sanctity can in turn be communed with, even rendered tangible; it can flow in water, reside in relics, and be swallowed in the form of the Eucharist.[29] It is within this mode that the “communion of the saints” in the Apostle’s Creed—a liturgical linchpin which Stockhausen will have known by heart—draws a line of connection between the living and the dead. An entire subsequent canon of electronic music would concern itself with space, and some of it would carry with it “hallowed” rhetorics of proportion, perfection and ritual—most notably Iannis Xenakis’s “Philips Pavilion”, the building for which Edgar Varèse's Poème électronique was written, exactingly virtually recreated by Vincenzo Lombardi in 2010.[30] However, in generating a sonic space dedicated to God that rearticulates itself afresh with each listening of Gesang—that in a sense is inseperable from Gesang itself—Stockhausen creates the potentiality for a listener to enter a sacred electronic space.


Embodiment and Word

In the previous section, I suggested that Catholic sanctity is often tangible. In this respect, it is distinct from Protestant understandings of sanctity, which centre more on texts and actions than physical gestures and embodied experiences.[31] With bodies, objects, and spaces embodying holiness, the perceiving bodies of sanctity’s beholders are in turn implicated in its reverence. Language is no longer the only comprehensibility at stake in Gesang. Its listeners, “enveloped” within “hosts” of electronically generated noise, must listen with their bodies. Stockhausen’s more esoteric spirituality later in life still made much of similar questions of embodiment. In a 1971 interview with Jonathan Cott, he emphasises that “sound waves directly attack the whole skin, not only the eardrums”, and that “you can hear through the whole body”, especially rhythmically.[32] Following this sensually integrated understanding of listening, the following section will extend my spatialised theological reading of Gesang towards the explicitly corporeal.


In Catholic theology, the soul—a person’s incorporeal essence—is not as dichotomised from the body as it might be in the popular imagination. According to Catechism 365,
“the unity of the soul and body is so profound that one has to consider the soul to be the ‘form’ of the body. It is because of its soul that the body made of matter becomes a living, human body; spirit and matter, in man, are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature”.[33]
The idea that the soul, rather than the body, is the “form”, sheds some light upon the deep enmeshment of the physical and the ineffable, and how the two, as a manifestation of unity itself, compel one another into earthly existence in a constantly productive relationship. “We are an electric system”, Stockhausen insists in the same interview as above, “let’s not forget about our always dying bodies, so to speak, in order to be reborn in a different form”.[34] He conceives of this “fundamental periodicity” in transcendent terms as much as cellular terms. “God breathes all the time”, he says.[35] In calling upon the explicitly creative resonances of God’s “breath”, Stockhausen invokes Genesis 2:7:
“Then the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul”.
This is just one example, among a plethora, of the Old Testament God becoming physically involved in human affairs. “God wrestles with a man (and loses)”, writes Aviad M. Kleinberg; “God wriggles his toes to make thunder and takes human form to shave the king of Assyria. In the New Testament, God is made flesh and dwells among humans”.[36] Such a sensual invocation of the Christian God is equally met in his human beholders, and Mary T. Prokes recounts “Saul struck physically to the ground by the voice of God” or Moses removing shoes before the burning bush “to bodily know the desert environs as holy ground”.[37] These are all scriptural manifestations of overwhelming embodiment that share a kinship with the liturgical gestures outlined in the previous section, and liturgy reproduces it in kind; in the confitior, the confession of sin during Catholic mass, congregants beat their chests. While the sacred is to be approached with the body, in Catholicism, the “living body-spirit” is itself in turn “a received mystery”.[38] This, writes Prokes, “removes the illusion that the lived body can be totally known by careful analysis”, because, theologically, “it is a matter of receiving rather than grasping”.[39] When the youths are joined in the furnace by a mysterious fourth figure, whom they “receive” and do not question, their bodies respond in kind by way of a fresh mystery: surviving the inferno.



While the Catholic body is considered a divine mystery, it is also, as suggested in the “Song of the Youths”, a divine work. And while it is the “breath” of God that instils life, there is a crucial Christian doctrine that this breath is in fact the breathed word, epitomised by the preface to the Gospel according to John:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God [....] All things came into being through him. And without him not one thing came into being that has come into being. What has come into being in him was life (1:1-4)”.
The very locus of this divinity is the act of speech itself, only intangible until spoken. I previously suggested that there are two kinds of comprehensibility at work in Gesang; speech-comprehensibility and body-comprehensibility. But according to this doctrine, life—the fundamental fusion of body and soul—is spoken into being by a God who is, on a certain level, speech itself. As Arthur Vogel writes, bodies are “meanings in matter”. Each human is “a visible word spoken in body and blood” and the phenomenon of the living body “is the message” when, as stated later in John's preface, “the Word became flesh and lived among us” as Christ (John 1:14).[40] When Stockhausen writes of the “very close solo voice” heard singing “preiset den Herrn” from 1’8.5”, that closeness does not just derive from a spatially positioned interaction between the listener’s body and the loudspeaker.[41] The “emergence” of speech in “ritual” praise is the form of Gesang’s musical structures, bridging large time spans and cohesively embodying the processes of sanctification discussed in the previous section.[42] Like in Catechism 365, the Word is the form of the body, and the two are inseparable, as manifest as they are mysterious.


One-ment

In Purity and Danger, Mary Douglas describes how bodily fluids were taboo to the ancient Hebrew Temple, with only ritually treated blood being allowed to cross the threshold.[43] By bringing together the pure and the impure in “an act of one-ment”, she argues that blood crossing the sacred threshold exceeds mere ritual in its nullification of the divide between purity and impurity, and instead upholds a larger “combination of opposites”.[44] Questions of purity have run in an undercurrent throughout this essay, demanded of the sacred and commanded by the scriptures; inescapably evoked by the voice of a child. Arguably, the physical proximity that Catholic body-theology renders between the pure soul and the sexual body, has indeed given rise to some of its most potent (and at times oppressive) social consequences, and questions of childhood innocence in Gesang so preoccupy David Metzer that he devotes an entire chapter to them.[45] On a more abstract level, Richard Toop has written of the “purity” of the sine wave as an atomistic impulse of sheer pitch, and of Stockhausen’s integral serialism as in terms of sacred geometry. Similarly, the WRD studio touted its “purely electronically generated” music as superior to musique conrète.[46] Modernism, when characterised by Donald Kuspit as “the point of view which sees art as the mastery of purity”, is often parsed along purity’s perceived lines, and territorialised by its doctrines (with all their bodily anxieties).[47]


Nevertheless, Maconie puts it aptly theologically when he writes that Stockhausen’s decision to compose with the voice was neither “a philosophical U-turn away from ‘pure’ electronic music back to musique concrete”, nor “a Pauline conversion to representational music”, but an exploration of the “frontiers of perception between chaos and form” with echoes of divine creation.[48] Stockhausen spoke of his drive “to integrate everything.[49] Phenomenologically describing how his finger “doesn’t know what I am eating” yet his whole body “functions very well”, and “this is God!”, he locates God in this integrated (and explicitly bodily) mode of being, in turn advocating for “an abolition of the dualism between vocal and instrumental music, between sound and silence, between pitch and noise”.[50] These “combinations of opposites”, like sanctified blood, are “acts of one-ment”; they can transcend the pure and impure, and cross thresholds.


In the previous section, I wrote of catechism 365 in essentially phenomenological terms. I wrote of the body and the soul coming into being as a relationship in and of itself, and how they render one another possible in a never-ending cycle of co-operative being-ness that could only be initiated or interrupted by a transcendent God. In other words, the body and the soul are a one-ness, the more-than-integrated sacred and profane; they are sanctified flesh and blood, both breathed into life and breathing through it. They are mysterious excess in perpetual motion. In this sense, Stockhausen was working in the image of the God in whom he believed when he wrote Gesang der Jünglinge, and the desire not just to generate relationships (be they between technologies, bodies, or acoustic patterns), but really "to integrate" in an act of praise embodied and verbal, comprehensible only by degrees, is the means by which this piece is called into being.



Bibliography

Chait, Ross Wallace. "Gesang Dream: Functions of Faith in Stockhausen's Electric Mass." Perspectives of New Music 52, no. 3 (2014): 185-96.

Collins, John J,. Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel. Hermeneia--a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

Cott, Jonathan., and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Stockhausen : Conversations with the Composer. Picador. London: Pan Books, 1974.

Decroupet, Pascal, Elena Ungeheuer, and Jerome Kohl. "Through the Sensory Looking-Glass: The Aesthetic and Serial Foundations of Gesang Der Jünglinge." Perspectives of New Music 36, no. 1 (1998): 97-142.

Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger an Analysis of Concept of Pollution and Taboo. Routledge Classics. London: Routledge, 2002.

Fewell, Danna Nolan. Circle of Sovereignty: A Story of Stories in Daniel 1-6. Bible and Literature Series; 20. Sheffield: Almond, 1988.

Heaton, E. W. The Book of Daniel: Introduction and Commentary. Torch Bible Commentaries. London: SCM, 1956.

John Paul II, and Waldstein, Michael. Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Boston, MA: Pauline Books & Media, 2006.

Kirchmeyer, Helmut. 2009. "Stockhausens Elektronische Messe nebst einem Vorspann unveröffentlichter Briefe aus seiner Pariser Zeit an Herbert Eimert". Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 66, no. 3:234–59.

Kleinberg, Aviad M.. The Sensual God: How the Senses Make the Almighty Senseless. La Vergne, 2015.

Maconie, Robin. The Works of Karlheinz Stockhausen. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon, 1990.

Manning, Peter. Electronic and Computer Music. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon, 1993.

Metzer, David Joel. "The Paths from and to Abstraction in Stockhausen's Gesang Der Jünglinge." Modernism/modernity11, no. 4 (2004): 695-721.

Pope, Hugh. "Holiness." The Catholic Encyclopedia Vol. 7. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1910. Accessed 4th April 2018.

Prokes, Mary Timothy. Toward a Theology of the Body. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996.

Rae, Murray. Architecture and Theology: The Art of Place. Waco, Texas, 2017.

Reydellet, Jean de (1996). "Pierre Schaeffer, 1910–1995: The Founder of  musique concrète". Computer Music Journal20, no. 2 (Summer): 10–11.

Smalley, John. 2000. “Gesang der Jünglinge: History and Analysis.” History and AnalysisColumbia University Department of Music (n.d.): 1–13. music.columbia.edu. Colombia University.

Sterken, Sven. Reconstructing the Philips Pavilion. Elements for a Critical Assessment. KU Leuven Association. Conference Proceeding, 2008.

Stockhausen, Karlheinz. Towards a Cosmic Music (Longmead, Shaftesbury, Dorset: Element, 1989), p. 11.

——— “Gesang der Jünglinge”. Booklet. Stockhausen 3: Electronische Musik 1952-1960. Music by Karlheinz Stockhausen. CD. Stockhausen-Verlag, 1996: 135-148.

———b “Music and Speech in Gesng der Jünglinge”. Booklet. Stockhausen 3: Electronische Musik 1952-1960. Music by Karlheinz Stockhausen. CD. Stockhausen-Verlag, 1996: 149-72.

———and Robin Maconie. Stockhausen on Music: Lectures and Interviews. London: Boyars, 1989.

Toop, Richard. "Stockhausen and the Sine-wave: The Story of an Ambiguous Relationship." Musical Quarterly 65 (1979): 379-91.

Vogel, Arthur A. Body Theology: God's Presence in Man's World. London: G. Chapman, 1975.

Westermann, Claus. Praise and Lament in the Psalms. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981.

120 Years of Electronic Music. (2015). Image: Premiere of Gesang der Jünglinge, May 30, 1956, WDR Cologne.. [online] Available at: http://120years.net/wdr-electronic-music-studio-germany-1951/ [Accessed 4 Apr. 2018].






[1] This version of events is presented in Michael Kurtz, 1992. Stockhausen: A Biography, trans. Richard Toop. London and Boston: Faber and Faber: 82. However, it should be noted that Helmut Kirchenmeyer has shown that no official request was every made to the diocese office, and neither is there any evidence of  (Helmut Kirchmeyer. 2009, "Stockhausens Elektronische Messe nebst einem Vorspann unveröffentlichter Briefe aus seiner Pariser Zeit an Herbert Eimert". Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 66, no. 3:234–59); See especially Ross Wallace Chait. "Gesang Dream: Functions of Faith in Stockhausen's Electric Mass." Perspectives of New Music 52, no. 3 (2014): 185-96.
[2] Jean de Reydellet (1996). "Pierre Schaeffer, 1910–1995: The Founder of musique concrète". Computer Music Journal20, no. 2 (Summer): 10–11.
[3] Pascal Decroupet and Elena Ungeheuer. "Through the Sensory Looking-Glass: The Aesthetic and Serial Foundations of Gesang Der Jünglinge." Perspectives of New Music 36, no. 1 (1998): 97; Karlheinz Stockhausen. “Gesng der Jünglinge”. Booklet. Stockhausen 3: Electronische Musik 1952-1960. Music
by Karlheinz Stockhausen. CD. Stockhausen-Verlag, 1996: 135.
[4] Robin Maconie. The Works of Karlheinz Stockhausen. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon, 1990: 59.
[5] See Decroupet and Ungeheuer 1998, 99-100 for a more in-depth explanation.
[6] John Smalley. 2000. “Gesang der Jünglinge: History and Analysis.” History and AnalysisColumbia University Department of Music (n.d.): 1–13. music.columbia.edu. Colombia University.
[7] Metzer 2004, 708-09.
[8] Chait 2014, 186; Karlheinz Stockhausen. “Music and Speech in Gesng der Jünglinge”. Booklet. Stockhausen 3: Electronische Musik 1952-1960. Music by Karlheinz Stockhausen. CD. Stockhausen-Verlag, 1996: 150.
[9] Ibid, 191; Metzer 2004, 705; Smalley 2000, 2.
[10] Claus Westermann. Praise and Lament in the Psalms. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981: Psalms 95, 100, 145, 148, and 150; All Biblical references are in the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise stated.
[11] John J. Collins. Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel. Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993: 53.
[12] Stockhausen 1996b, 151.
[13] E. W. Heaton. The Book of Daniel: Introduction and Commentary. Torch Bible Commentaries. London: SCM, 1956: 144.
[14] Danna Nolan Fewell. Circle of Sovereignty: A Story of Stories in Daniel 1-6. Bible and Literature Series; 20. Sheffield: Almond, 1988: 79.
[15] Stockhausen 1996b, 168.
[16] Maconie 1990, 57.
[17] Stockhausen 1996b, 149ff.
[18] Ibid, 152.
[19]; Ibid, 135.
[20] Chait 2014, 188; ibid, 189; Karlheinz Stockhausen, Towards a Cosmic Music (Longmead, Shaftesbury, Dorset: Element, 1989): 59.
[21] Kurtz 1992, 82.
[22] Ibid 1992, 14; Peter Manning. Electronic and Computer Music. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon, 1993: 66; Chait 2014, 191; ibid, 191. Chait does not specify where he hears these timbres, but may well be hearing them from 5.28 onwards.
[23] Stockhausen 1996a, 147.
[24] 120 Years of Electronic Music. (2015). Image: Premiere of Gesang der Jünglinge, May 30, 1956, WDR Cologne.. [online] Available at: http://120years.net/wdr-electronic-music-studio-germany-1951/ [Accessed 4 Apr. 2018]. The final version uses four, in accordance with the limited number of channels that one tape could convey at the time, maximising control during live performance.
[25] Smalley 2000, 10.
[26] Chait 2014, 189.
[27] Steven Eric Plank, “The Way to Heavens Doore”: An Introduction to Liturgical Process and Musical Style (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow, 1994), pp. 92–93.
[28] Chait 2014, 189.
[29] Hugh Pope. "Holiness." The Catholic Encyclopedia Vol. 7. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1910. Accessed 4th April 2018.
[30] Sven Sterken. Reconstructing the Philips Pavilion. Elements for a Critical Assessment. KU Leuven Association. Conference Proceeding, 2008.
[31] MacCulloch, Diarmaid. Reformation : Europe's House Divided, 1490-1700. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 2004.
[32] Cott, Jonathan., and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Stockhausen : Conversations with the Composer. Picador. London: Pan Books, 1974: 28.
[33] Catholic Church. “6.II.365: Body and Soul but Truly One,” in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. Vatican: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2012. http://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p1s2c1p6.htm . Accessed 9th April 2018.
[34] Cott 1974, 28.
[35] Ibid, 27.
[36]Aviad M. Kleinberg. The Sensual God: How the Senses Make the Almighty Senseless. La Vergne, 2015: 20.
[37] Mary Timothy Prokes. Toward a Theology of the Body. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996: 24.
[38] Ibid, 40.
[39] Ibid, 40.
[40] Arthur A. Vogel Body Theology: God's Presence in Man's World. London: G. Chapman, 1975: 82.
[41] Stockhausen 1996b, 152.
[42] Stockhausen 1996b, 155; ibid, 151.
[43] Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger an Analysis of Concept of Pollution and Taboo. Routledge Classics. London: Routledge, 2002: 159.
[44] Ibid, 159.
[45] See John Paul II, and Waldstein, Michael. Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Boston, MA: Pauline Books & Media, 2006, which has been described as a “sexual counter-revolution” in West, Christopher, and George Weigel. Theology of the Body Explained: A Commentary on John Paul II's "Gospel of the Body". Leominster: Gracewing, 2003: 5; Metzer, David Joel. "The Paths from and to Abstraction in Stockhausen's Gesang Der Jünglinge." Modernism/modernity11, no. 4 (2004): 695-721.
[46] Manning 1996, 20-22.
[47] Metzer 2004, 702.
[48] Maconie 1990, 59.
[49] Cott 1974, 75.
[50] Stockhausen, Karlheinz, and Robin. Maconie. Stockhausen on Music: Lectures and Interviews. London: Boyars, 1989: 130.

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