This week on The Pursuit of Beauty I sit down with Dr. Allen Hightower, Director of Choral Studies at the University of North Texas, for an honest and deeply pastoral conversation about choirs, faith, and the people who stand in front of us every week and sing.

We talk very candidly about the real problems choir directors and church musicians face: how to work with aging voices and the infamous “old lady wobble,” why volunteers will forgive almost anything except being in a mediocre choir, and how to make hard musical decisions without wounding the people you serve. Allen opens up about the role of the conductor as a pastoral presence, not just a technician, and what it means to love your choir enough to tell them the truth and still keep their dignity intact.

From there we move into bigger questions about sacred music, text, and belief. Can you perform Bach’s passions with integrity if you do not actually believe what the text proclaims? What does it mean to teach and conduct explicitly Christian works in a secular university setting? Allen shares how he navigates these tensions at UNT, and why wrestling seriously with the words we sing is essential if the music is going to do the spiritual and human work it was written to do.

We also explore the thorny question of singing music from other religious traditions, from Holst’s Hymns from the Rig Veda to Sufi and Hindu devotional repertoire. How should Christian musicians think about programming this music, and what responsibility do we have given the embarrassment of riches in our own tradition’s choral literature?

If you are a choir director, a church musician, a choral singer, or simply someone who cares about the intersection of beauty, truth, and the people in your choir loft, this conversation is for you.

In this episode:

• How to lead volunteers who desperately want to be good, without bullying them

• What to do with aging voices and the “old lady wobble” in a church choir

• Why singers will not forgive you if they or the choir are mediocre

• The conductor as pastor, not just time beater

• Teaching and performing explicitly Christian music in a secular university

• Can you sing sacred texts with integrity if you do not believe them

• Should Christians sing music from other religious traditions

• The spiritual vocation of choral music in a disenchanted age

Allen Hightower, Matthew Wilkinson, choir, choral music, church music, sacred music, university choir, aging voices, old lady wobble, choral conducting, choral pedagogy, Bach, Rig Veda, faith and art, Christian music, UNT, Pursuit of Beauty podcast.

In this wide-ranging round table, architect Andrew Gould, icon carver and storyteller Jonathan Pageau, and host Matthew Wilkinson sit down over whiskey to wrestle with the future of beauty, sacred art, and architecture. We start with pirates and sea shanties, then quickly slide into Jackson Pollock, Rothko, oil slicks, marbled end-papers, and the problem of modern art hung in the wrong place. Andrew and Jonathan both argue that modernism is what happens when a long, rich tradition becomes fragmented and hyper-specialized. They compare Rothko’s color fields and Pollock’s rhythm to bark on a tree or the shimmering colors of an oil slick on water; there is a real beauty there, but it makes sense only when it is framed by more ordered and more meaningful.Andrew argues that the only real future of art lies in applied arts; things that serve a social purpose: church buildings, icons, interior decoration, good rooms, and good furniture. Oil paintings used to be “applied” in this way; they were made to hang in beautiful houses, to honor a patron, to decorate a dining room, to stand in as an “icon” of a king or bishop. Once painting is made only for galleries and commentary, it begins to eat itself. Jonathan pushes the conversation further and claims that liturgical art is the ultimate applied art. Icons, church architecture, and sacred music do not just distract you after work; they shape your life, your sense of honor, your memory, and your relationship to God and neighbor.From there, the three of you turn to cities, localism, and the built environment. Using Charleston as a case study, Andrew explains how historic districts, design review boards, and legal language originally intended to protect “historic styles” can be slowly re-interpreted to bless modernist glass boxes. You talk about shame, honor, and love; how a developer begins to think differently once he has to live in the town whose skyline he has altered, and how truly beautiful buildings quietly pressure people to dress differently, dine differently, and behave with greater dignity. Along the way, you touch on Greek islands that restrict ownership to locals, empty second homes in historic neighborhoods, and the way a truly beautiful room can transform a dinner party of ordinary college students into something solemn, joyful, and unforgettable.The discussion widens into the metaphysics of beauty and love. Drawing on the classical “transcendentals” of truth, goodness, and beauty, and a provocative list of “satanic transcendentals” such as fashion, sentimentality, and cruelty, you explore the difference between genuine love and mere infatuation. Fashion shocks; it trades in novelty and quickly becomes dated like shag carpet or yesterday’s architectural fad. Real beauty, by contrast, remains loveable across generations, which is why Baroque, Gothic, and classical buildings can be revived again and again, while certain “cutting edge” styles age badly within a decade. The same questions are applied to Orthodox iconography, mannerism, elongated figures, realism, Caravaggio and Rubens, and the danger of making saints look like glossy fashion models rather than members of the Kingdom.You hear concrete examples: Rublev’s Trinity as a bold yet deeply rooted innovation; Gothic portals where elongated saints grow up into the architecture like living columns; Father Silouan’s icons that quietly borrow from modern color theory and postmodern composition while remaining immediately venerable for a village grandmother; Russian attempts to integrate turn-of-the-century realism and Art Nouveau into church painting; and the tragic history of smoke-darkened Byzantine churches repeatedly repainted until the original brilliance vanished beneath cheap overpainting. We talk pirates and sea shanties, Pollock and Rothko, Rubens and Caravaggio, Charleston and Greek islands, Francis Bacon and Schiele, fashion and transcendence.

n this episode of The Pursuit of Beauty, Matthew sits down with legendary Charleston vocalist and storyteller Ann Caldwell to uncover the hidden world of spirituals, Gullah culture, and the music of the enslaved. From “Wade in the Water” to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” Ann explains how these songs often carried coded messages of escape, using biblical language, river imagery, and “chariots” to talk about the Underground Railroad, freedom, and survival when plain speech was impossible.

Ann shares her own story as a Gullah-rooted artist raised in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, and opens a window into praise houses, ring shouts, and call and response worship that shaped the spiritual life of enslaved communities. She talks about how the Gullah language developed, why rhythm and movement are inseparable from the songs, and how spirituals hold together profound faith, doubt, lament, and hope all at once.

The conversation also wrestles with honest questions about race, ownership, and performance. Can white choirs sing spirituals with integrity. What does it mean for predominantly white ensembles to perform music that was born in the suffering of enslaved Africans. How do we honor the people who created these songs while allowing the music to live, grow, and be heard by new generations. Ann answers with the disarming mix of humor, directness, and pastoral wisdom that has made her beloved throughout Charleston.

Along the way you will hear about Mahalia Jackson, jazz arrangements of spirituals, the Society for the Preservation of Spirituals, and the way these songs continue to echo through Black church music, jazz, gospel, and American culture today. If you care about church music, spirituals, Gullah history, race, theology, or the story of the American South, this conversation will change the way you hear these songs forever.