Devotion: A Collaboration

When composer and sound artist Yantra de Vilder first heard Buddhist nun Robina Courtin sing prayers, she said she “recognized a trained voice and knew she had something special to offer the world.”

It was March 2013 at a retreat in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, at Kunsang Yeshe, a Tibetan Buddhist center that is part of the worldwide community that Robina’s been involved with since her ordination in 1978 (the Foundation for the Preservation of the Mahayana Tradition).

When Yantra awoke at dawn, she had the “the very clear realization that I wanted to help get these ancient Tibetan prayers and mantras out to the world.”

Brought up in Melbourne, Robina did indeed study singing, with her mother, Agnes Bliss, a classical singer and pianist. “She taught the piano to most of her children – there were seven of us – but for some reason she taught me singing,” Robina remembers.

“We’d have lessons on Saturday, when the rest of the family were at the football cheering for the South Melbourne Swans. I didn’t go because I couldn’t stand all the shouting, so Saturdays were heaven for me.”

“Mainly we would sing the lieder of Schubert and Brahms, my mother’s favorites, but also some of the soaring Italian arias. Often I found the very act of singing itself quite blissful. My mind was always happy during our times together. And I think it was a very wonderful experience for my mother, who’d virtually given up her flourishing career once she started to have babies.”

She had great hopes that Robina would pursue her career, so sent her to London in 1968. “I auditioned at a school of music – I can’t remember the name of it – but it was a disaster. I liked to sing but my heart just wasn’t in it.” I became a political activist instead!

The first session with Yantra, a few months after the retreat, was in Yantra’s studio in Avoca Beach, on the coast north of Sydney. Because Robina was always travelling, they managed to meet for just a few days – that year and the next three, finally finishing in 2016.

Robina selected some of her favorite verses from traditional prayers, such as Lama Chöpa. “I chose the prayers with two listeners in mind: one, Tibetan Buddhists who would recognize the prayers and the logic of the order; and, two, people who knew nothing about them, so for them I made sure that the actual melodies from one prayer to the next were pleasing to the ear.”

The order is according to a practice called “The Seven-Limbed Prayer,” with some extra verses thrown in. Even though there might be no understanding in the minds of some of the listeners, it seems there is still some benefit in merely hearing the prayers. According to the Buddhist view of the mind, everything any sentient being experiences through their senses – and the ear is particularly powerful – gets stored in the mind; nothing goes astray. Then, if we were to hear these words again, they would resonate, we’d recognize them.

From day one Robina called the compilation “Devotion.” The melodies are from Lama Zopa Rinpoche, her teacher, which he, in turn, would have received from his teachers – and, who knows, maybe even the buddhas! – and are likely from Sera Je Monastic University, Rinpoche’s monastery.

The music is not written down; it’s passed on orally. “I did my best to replicate the melodies – quite hard sometimes; Rinpoche’s voice is unusual.”

For Yantra, the level of intimacy they developed during the hours they worked together did not stop in the studio. “Our many meals together became a place of discovery. This Tibetan Buddhist tradition-bearer passed on her knowledge to me in the informal setting of my dining room table. These intimate moments imbued the work with qualities that created what I like to describe as the Artistic Moment – a place of trust, listening and respect.”

“I had never worked intimately with a Tibetan Buddhist nun before, indeed I hardly knew Robina at all, other than from attending her retreats. I have learnt many things from her, amongst them a clearer understanding of my mind and emotions.”

Even though Yantra often saw Robina in her role as teacher, “ultimately it was a balanced relationship, with me reciprocating with my wealth of experience about production.”

It was this balance of field knowledge, she feels, that they both brought to the table, “in an atmosphere of inclusion and with a prayer for the benefit of both of us” – and hopefully, anyone else who would listen to these prayers.

Initially they talked about Yantra creating music using instruments. Over the years Yantra has developed a way of working where she uses the recording studio as a tool of composition, influenced by the likes of Brian Eno and Lisa Gerard.

“Devotion was to take this method to another level,” she says. Previously she had created vocal works that had some kind of instrumental backing tracks, but soon they both agreed that only voice, a capella – “in the manner of the chapel” – was most fitting. “This is the Tibetan style, anyway,” Robina says.

Robina was very clear that they should avoid “the clichéd floaty sounds of flutes and such instruments that Westerners commonly associate with Buddhism.” They were both moved by the liturgical songs of the twelfth-century German abbess Hildegarde of Bingen. “Her soaring melodies pushed the boundaries of traditional Gregorian chant,” Yantra feels.

They’d start their sessions with a motivation “to make our work together as beneficial as possible,” Robina says. “And I’d always wear my traditional saffron robe, reminding us that it was something special.”

Their usual method of working was for Robina to sing the prayer, in Tibetan, and then Yantra would lay down the track. “For extra depth I would direct Robina to sing the same part several times.”

To add even more dynamism, they agreed that Yantra should create new parts. Robina explains that, “unlike in Western music there are no harmonies, only the single melody. And the seven- or nine-syllable lines of the prayers, essentially poetry, are sung in a two-line melody that is repeated and repeated; there is no variation.”

As Robina sang the lines, Yantra would sing along, “searching for melodies as a counterpoint.” Robina would sing Yantra’s new harmonies while listening to the original in her earphones and, again, Yantra would lay down the tracks.Your content goes here. Edit or remove this text inline or in the module Content settings. You can also style every aspect of this content in the module Design settings and even apply custom CSS to this text in the module Advanced settings.

Robina would always explain the meaning of the words. “It was very important to her that I understood the meaning and why a specific order had to be used,” Yantra says. “It took me ages to really get this!”

The wish was to replicate the sound of a cathedral choir. “To achieve this I used intensive multi-tracking of Robina’s vocals, as well as audio-processing, which included panning and reverb, editing and arranging.” Yantra also got Robina to sing single-note drones, which were added to the mix. The richness of sound that was emerging was effectively a choir of Robinas!

More soprano voices were needed. “But I couldn’t reach the high notes,” Robina says. “Impossible! I used to be a soprano but not now, and my range is limited.” They agreed that Yantra would sing the high parts, as well as add her voice in other places, strengthening the feel of a choir. “I was always careful to keep Robina’s as the lead voice.”

The second half of the album has three of the mantras most popular among Tibetan Buddhists, chanted, as always, in Sanskrit – the Medicine Buddha, for healing; the Buddha of Compassion; and the female Buddha, Tara, who’s the embodiment of action and success.

Yantra says that her collaboration with the Venerable Robina Courtin took place in a cathedral–temple space – a transcendent place of devotion and reverence fused with complex studio audio production techniques.

And Robina feels sure that her mother, who died in 1981, would be so very pleased that “here I am, fifty years later, singing again!”

May whoever hears these prayers be filled with delight!

Yantra’s reflections on her involvement in the making of Devotion

The process of recording Devotion involved a four-year commitment. This included ethno-musicological research, recording sessions, harmonic arrangements, a high level of audio processing in the studio and the involvement of a small group of peers for feedback. My focus in Devotion was to merge creativity with spirituality.

My own spirituality has a somewhat eclectic foundation. However, in my arts practice I can identify a bridge between the Buddhist and Christian practices that inform some of my work.

Metaphorically, I see myself inside a gateway, standing as a bridge between places, a “border crosser,” as the ethno-musicologist Steven Nuss calls it. The notion of the space between also informs my thinking – the space between the breath, the space between Eastern and Western modes of spirituality, the space between the musical notes, the space between Hildegarde of Bingen and Tibetan monastic lineage… the space between Robina and me. This between place has strong resonances with the ancient Japanese Buddhist aesthetic of Ma.

Venerable Robina had never been in a recording studio before. This was an interesting turnaround, as her international role is one of a spiritual teacher, however, in the recording studio she referred to me as her music guru – an honor I aimed to live up to, in leadership and musical ability.

Our work together represents a number of different factors:

• tradition-bearer passing on knowledge;
• juxtaposition of professional and non-professional expertise in the studio;
• role of teacher and disciple;
• arrangement of complex harmonies;
• traditional Tibetan prayers;
• nexus of Tibetan Buddhist and Medieval Christian harmonic sensibilities;
• interlock of traditional musical sources and contemporary studio practices; and
• non-rule-book approach to developing ideas together in the studio.

From a music production point of view, reflecting on and during my work with Robina allowed me to make intuitive decisions regarding the shaping of the sound. I would think of the resonances that express the notion of transcendence and ritual. Do I use higher vocal sonorities to express an angelic quality? How do I express heavenly overtones (a Christian perspective) in a Tibetan Buddhist format? As I asked myself these questions I realised that when we experiment in our practice we come across surprises and make decisions about our process and materials.

It was a new area for me to be exploring as well as a new relationship with Robina. But we both wanted what was best for the project, and there were many times where we had to make difficult decisions, such as discarding material – I had to learn to let go on so many levels.

Listening to references from Hildegarde of Bingen was an important part of my reflective research process whilst working on Devotion. Even though most of Hildegard’s compositions were for unison melodic structure, the transcendent nature of the sound, with its cathedral-like reverberation was a sonic influence that Robina and I both aspired towards, artistically and spiritually.

I believe artists always tackle such questions as: what am I saying, how do I want to say it, and why do I want to say it? These questions are recurrent in my creative practice, and formulate a personal creative credo that is addressed in the context of each project I am involved with, whether it be a performance, film, theatre event or recording. They are central to my artistic expression and were the foundation of my work in Devotion.

As a result of my deep interest in Buddhist and Christian theologies, I have developed an inner spiritual enquiry that informs my arts practice, whilst crossing the borders between these two philosophies. At its essence the quest for peace and inspiration, for myself and others. At the heart of my work in Devotion is the notion of generating bodhicitta – creating positive works, as sung in the bodhichitta prayer in track 1:

Dag-dang zhän-dön drub-lä-du
To accomplish my own and others aims

Dag-gi jang-chub sem-kye-do

I generate bodhichitta

Dag-zhän ge-nam jang-chub chhen-por-ngo
I dedicate my own merits and those of all others to the great enlightenment

Bodhichitta is a spontaneous wish to attain enlightenment motivated by great compassion for all sentient beings, accompanied by a falling away of the attachment to the illusion of an inherently-existing self.