Based on the Song of Solomon, Bishop T.D. Jakes released the Sacred Love Songs (1999) album, marketing the charismatic Christian mood music as “gospel” songs with the most “romantic and poetic texts ever written.” Unlike R&B and soul...
moreBased on the Song of Solomon, Bishop T.D. Jakes released the Sacred Love Songs (1999) album, marketing the charismatic Christian mood music as “gospel” songs with the most “romantic and poetic texts ever written.” Unlike R&B and soul baritone-bass “mood music” high priests Teddy Pendergrass and Barry White, Jakes is a preacher who narrates intermittently throughout the album in a manner resembling a Divine blessing on the marital bed. He embodies the iconic voice of God cuing the act of co-creation. By doing so, Jakes establishes bass timbres as the conventional sound for facilitation of sexual healing for Christian believers. Jakes collaborated with popular R&B and gospel soprano, alto, and tenor singers such as Tamar Braxton, Shirley Murdock, Jesse Powell, and Marvin Sapp. According to one iTunes reviewer, the music was “as healing as it is entertaining, Sacred Love Songs encourages men and women to love each other in God’s way with heartfelt musical messages.” Even though this album was promoted as pressing boundaries by addressing the intersection of love and spiritual issues, it re-asserts the permissible arrangements for specific Christian’s sexual and sensual exploration using gospel music: heterosexual and partnered within marriage. Sacred Love Songs is one of several recordings by gospel artists that seek to provide (non-) Christian couples with sexual healing through listening to music, while simultaneously excluding a large Christian population that is negotiating sexual desire outside of permissible arrangements for sex. As I researched the genre’s reception, there is no exploration of a virgin, celibate, queer, or sensual listening to and feeling of gospel music to deepen love and spirituality. Furthermore, there is no consideration of the pleasure vocalists may derive while providing forms of musical sexual healing.
Within the twenty-first century historically Black Pentecostal settings where gospel music is performed, there is a longstanding tradition of presenting songs and delivering sermons that promote sexual abstinence among unmarried individuals, encouraging them to wait to have sex until they get married. Essential prescriptions for maintaining chastity in the “Worth the Wait” movement extend into this sphere, including teachings that Christian believers should guard their hearts, minds, and “gates” (i.e. ear and eyes) from sexually suggestive or erotic contemplation, pornographic entertainment, and self-pleasure through masturbation. And thus, single people are technically banned from consuming the Sacred Love Song album. Yet, undoubtedly, Pentecostals are using music to have sex outside of marriage. As such, the question is induced: are there ways in which believers explore sexual healing through gospel music in a non-heterosexual, single manner? Moreover, what might we learn about the pleasure derived from the combination of the sonic and somatic dimensions of gospel music making?
Following Black men’s narratives about singing gospel, I contend that sexual abstinence discourses obscure the alternative forms of sensual and sexual exploration occurring in gospel music participation. Noticing the religio-cultural fixation on sexual abstinence rhetorics, many religious scholars have focused on the ways in which such teachings foster anxieties about the meanings and implications generated from the use of the body for pleasure and arousal. However, in my research on Black men’s performance of sexuality in gospel music, I have found a music-centered contradiction to these sexual abstinence teachings. In the vocal pedagogical language and imagery that voice teachers and directors deploy to teach “good singing,” mentors make references to sensations perceived in the genitalia and other erogenous zones so that the vocalist can achieve “supported” breathing and ideal “placement” in the production of vibrant sound, also known as resonance. Black male performers are encouraged to draw from their sexual experience and/or imagination to simulate sensed and sung sexual climax while simultaneously using sonic iconicity and resonance to evoke transcendence in listeners during the facilitation of public worship. Further, outside of Black church music academies, these male musicians have encountered non-Black instructors’ use of similar sexually suggestive and vulgar pedagogical imagery that is problematically derived from essentialist perceptions of Black men, emphasizing their physical attributes and sexual prowess over physical sensations and spiritual vitality.
While examining ethnography in Washington, D.C., of Charles Anthony Bryant’s performance of “I Give You Praise” as a musical tribute to Richard Smallwood, and interviews with male gospel vocalists and preachers, I consider gospel music as an embodied sexual activity in which vocalists simultaneously experience and surrogate pleasure as an essential, unspoken feature of worship leadership. In this ethnomusicological research, I expand on ethnomusicology, vocal pedagogy, phonology, religious studies, and musicological research on gender and sexuality in other genres pioneered by scholars such as Susan McClary, Suzanne Cusick, and Philip Brett in order to analyze gospel music making and Christian worship participation as sex.
With attention to the ways in which men speak about music making while in the predominantly male gospel music networks, singing gospel is a multi-sensory, sexual activity engaging the listener with musical semiotics, memory, iconicity, and embodied resonance inscriptions. Inspired by the climactic phrase of the refrain in “I Give You Praise,” the following questions are examined in this presentation: In what ways do Black male gospel musicians perceive their vocal sound and embodiment as a dwelling place, a construction of habitation, and a safe space that facilitates spiritual, physical, or even sexual transcendence through worship in ways that resemble an orgasmic experience? To what extent do Black male musicians tap into modes of eroticism to inform their facilitation of worship? More to the point, how might virgin, celibate, queer, or sensual believers feel pleasure through gospel music participation?
To analyze the sonic-somatic pleasure derived from gospel music making, I consider vocalists’ musical production, hearing, and feeling the music as performers and audience. I begin by describing the premise of the musical event and its context honoring consummate gospel composer Richard Smallwood. I explain the composer’s significance among gospel musicians, focusing on the two male vocalists B.Slade and Charles Anthony Bryant, who honored Smallwood and embody two performances of popular masculinity. For them and many other musicians, Smallwood is a muse who exemplifies the weaving of gospel and European art music traditions. B.Slade embodies the complexities surrounding the reception of self-identified gay musicians in gospel music by presenting the sonic and gestural domains that have been attributed to queerness. In contrast, Charles Anthony Bryant’s persona challenges gospel audiences’ assumptions about what queer potential or identity looks and sounds like with regard to vocal classification and comportment. Since Bryant’s performs against the gospel vocalist stereotype, I analyze the ways in which he intentionally uses his body to produce sound. As a result of this close analysis, I uncovered the ways in which musicians’ bodily experiences of pleasure are triggered strategically to produce consistent and balanced sound for many vocalists. With attention to the assumptions stemming from heteropatriarchal constructs of gender and sexuality expression in historically Black Protestant congregations and gospel music spheres, I summarize the constellation of symbolic meaning derived from the male musical functions, space, vocal range, bodily experience, and in setting the mood for the worship experience. I conclude by returning to the initial ethnographic sketch to demonstrate the dimensions of vocal production and how the activity moves the singer and participants, supporting the long held sense that there are both latent and intentional meanings and intimacies that are cultivated in vocal performance.
Informed by womanist and feminist modes of analysis, I conduct this research through the lens of what Black feminist bell hooks calls an oppositional gaze of Black male musicians (Black Looks 1992), as a formally trained, cisgender woman preacher, musician, and researcher who is sexually and non-sexually attracted to men. I must admit that whenever I present my research on Black men’s worship, I do so with critical affirmation of a tradition that I respect and critique.