Note: No one will mistake Van Morrison as a “prog” rocker, but everyone acknowledges he is one of the most important popular musicians of the past fifty years. He has long been one of my five or six favorite musicians, ever since I first heard his music back in the summer of 1991. I wrote the following article in 2002 for Saint Austin Review, and since it has never been available online, I’ve decided to foist it onto Progarchy readers. I’ve made a couple of minor corrections, but otherwise it is unchanged and so it is, of course, somewhat dated. — Carl E. Olson
Ask most people (at least here in America) if they’ve heard of Van Morrison, and they will likely mention “Brown Eyed Girl,” the late 60s hit with a catchy chorus of sha-la-la-la-la-la-la’s. Although it’s a fine pop song, there is, fortunately, far more to Van Morrison than “Brown Eye Girl.” Since 1968 and the release of his classic album Astral Weeks, Morrison has created an impressive body of popular music that defies categorization. Using elements of folk, rock, jazz, soul, R&B, traditional Irish music, and even country music, the Belfast Cowboy molds songs that are earthly, emotional, spiritual, and, at times, transcendent.
Legendary for his difficult personality and his dislike for the press, Morrison has often sent confusing signals about his religious affections. Yet his finest work can rightly be called incarnational. This is not to say it is strictly “Christian,” but that it is rooted in reality (uncommon in much pop and rock music) and seeks to incarnate spiritual truth and meaning in concrete forms, themes, images, and narratives. Morrison is not interested in proselytizing, creating propaganda, or lecturing, flaws common in “contemporary Christian music” (mostly evangelical Protestant) and in the music of rock artists attempting serious statements about ecology, politics, and social ills. Such ends irritate Morrison, who seems to appreciate the power and limits of popular music. Once asked about fans looking to musicians for political guidance, he responded with irritation, “Why do people expect us to solve the world’s problems? It’s absurd. I mean, if politicians can’t do it, how . . . . can musicians?”
Although he has produced some mediocre albums and has occasionally alienated his fans and the press, Morrison has maintained a remarkably consistent artistic vision. His music is worth considering, I believe, for several reasons. As music, apart from message and lyrical themes, most of it is very good. Morrison’s mastery of styles and his ability to mesh seemingly divergent musical forms is impressive. The best of these stylistic marriages have a timeless quality, conveying a spiritual longing that is honest, vulnerable, and often moving. This mixture of earthy, cerebral, and spiritual is uniquely its own, providing Catholic musicians who work in popular music much to consider and appreciate.
The Childlike Vision
Born in Belfast in 1945, Morrison had an ordinary boyhood, with the notable exception of his father’s passion for American jazz, R&B, and early rock and roll. He spent hours listening to the records of legendary artists such as Jelly Roll Morton, Little Richard, and various blues singers. By the age of fifteen he was playing full-time in a skiffle band, eventually putting together the group Them in the early 60s. After releasing the hits “Here Comes the Night” and “Gloria,” Morrison went solo and eventually landed in New York City. Although “Brown Eyed Girl” was soon a hit, Morrison was miserable. Feeling trapped in his recording contract and misunderstood by everyone around him, he still managed to record Astral Weeks in two days – this despite not knowing the session musicians and (according to those musicians) not communicating with them.
Although it produced no hits and didn’t sell well, Astral Weeks soon became legendary within musical circles. The twenty-two year old Morrison had created a song cycle that was timeless, poignant, and spiritual, combining folk, rock, and jazz in open-ended compositions. Multi-layered and elusive, the lyrics describe people and places in Belfast, impressionistic sketches imbued with a mystical longing free of nostalgia and sentimentality. The songs are loosely structured around Morrison’s emotive vocals, the singer wrapping his voice around keenly detailed lyrics. In “Beside You”, he describes the approaching evening with minimalist precision, “Just before the Sunday six-bells chime, six-bells chime/And all the dogs are barkin’.” He then follows a mysterious woman as she moves down the roads and “way across the country”:
Past the brazen footsteps of the silence easy
You breathe in you breathe out you breathe in you breathe out . . .
And you’re high on your high-flyin’ cloud
Wrapped up in your magic shroud as ecstasy surrounds you
“Sweet Thing,” a more obvious love song, is also filled with images of walking the countryside, seeking and experiencing a timeless wonder: Continue reading “The Incarnational Art of Van Morrison”





















