The
selections on this disc are drawn from texts for the Lenten and Easter
seasons, from Ash Wednesday to Pentecost. While these themes are the
foundation of the Christian faith, they also speak directly to our
discovery of hope in the face of life's struggles. The journey “From
Captivity to the Holy City,” then, not only celebrates the ascent from
earthly Jerusalem to the heavenly Holy City—it describes the human
experience as we move from darkness to light, from enslavement to liberation,
and from suffering to joy.
Chichester
Mass
William Albright
William
Albright (1944-1998) was an accomplished keyboardist whose tastes and
proficiencies ranged from classic piano ragtime to championing new organ
music. His scores run a wide gamut, and he has described his style thus:
“My music is generous, eclectic. I prefer messy diversity to boring
unity.” His Chichester Mass, based on the traditional Anglican text, was
composed in 1974 for the 900th anniversary of Chichester Cathedral. The
overall tone is elegiac, and the basically tonal unity is highly decorated
in the manner of an organ improvisation, where the dissonant notes color
the fabric without disturbing its equilibrium. Thus we are not shocked
when such sections as the Credo (a nod to Stravinsky’s Mass) and the
Hosanna (introducing baroque polyphonic flourishes) strongly affirm the
basic tonality. The fragile webs of sound have an impressionistic flavor,
while the harmony, with its advanced jazz allusions, reminds us of
Albright’s deeply American roots.
Kyrie
Kyrie
eleison.
Lord,
have mercy upon us.
Christe
eleison.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Kyrie
eleison.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Gloria
Gloria.
Glory
be to God on high,
and in earth peace, good will towards men.
We
praise thee, we bless thee,
we worship thee,
we glorify thee,
we give thanks to thee for thy great glory,
O
Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty.
O
Lord, the only begotten Son, Jesu Christ:
O
Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father,
that takest away the sins of the world,
have mercy upon us.
Thou
that takest away the sins of the world,
receive our prayer.
Thou
that sittest at the right hand of God the Father,
have mercy upon us.
For
thou only art Holy;
thou
only art the Lord;
thou
only, O Christ,
with the Holy Ghost,
art the most High, in the glory of God the
Father. Amen.
Sanctus
Holy,
holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts:
Heaven
and earth are full of thy glory.
Glory
be to thee, O Lord Most High.
Benedictus
Blessed
is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna
in the highest.
Agnus
Dei
O
Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world,
have
mercy upon us.
O
Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world,
grant
us thy peace.
De
profundis
John Muehleisen
Seattle
composer John Muehleisen (b. 1955) composed De Profundis in 1995 on
commission for Opus 7. It is a setting of fifteen short sections of the
Psalms, the first of which, “Out of the depths,” gives the work its
title. These texts are also known as the “Songs of Ascents,” and
perhaps have their origin as devotional songs in praise of Yahweh for
delivering the Hebrews from foreign bondage and for the rebuilding of the
temple in Jerusalem.
Muehleisen
is a conservative composer only in that he is a great melodist, and builds
his vaulting structures through complex and pervasive thematic
transformation. If you can remember the
profile
of the first melodic fragment, spread over the whole chorus beginning with
the lowest voice (hence “out of the depths”), you will hear one of its
most memorable repetitions at the text “When the Lord brought back the
captives of Zion” and its final apotheosis at “Pray for the peace of
Jerusalem.” Muehleisen has created an intensely dramatic framework for
this passionate text. You are stunned by dissonance where it is needed,
you feel the validity of the jagged vocal lines as they enhance the
pleading of the words. But his postmodern sense of tonality, however
battered (and not without discrete references to Ives) always maintains a
strong sense of direction and unity of
expression.
Out
of the depths I cry to you, O Lord;
Lord,
hear my voice!
Let
your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.
Psalm
130: 1,2
All
too long have I dwelt with those who hate peace.
Psalm
120: 6
By
the Rivers of Babylon, there we sat down;
Yea,
we wept when we remember Zion.
How
could we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?
Psalm
137: 1, 4
O
Lord, deliver me!
In
my distress I called to the Lord,
and
he answered me.
Psalm
120: 2a, 1
When
the Lord brought back the captives to Zion,
we were like men who dreamed.
Our
mouths were filled with laughter
and our tongues with songs of joy.
Then
it was said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for
them.”
The
Lord has done great things for us;
and we are filled with joy.
Psalm
126: 1-3a
I
rejoiced because they said to me,
“Let us go up to the house of the Lord.”
And
now we have set foot
within your gates, O Jerusalem–
Psalm
122: 1-2
Pray
for the peace of Jerusalem!
May those who love you prosper!
May
peace be within your walls,
prosperity in your palaces.
I
will say, “Peace be with you!”
Psalm
122: 6-7, 8b
“Long
since in Egypt’s plenteous land” from Judith
C.
Hubert H. Parry
C.
Hubert H. Parry (1848-1918) has been called “the most powerful influence
in English musical life at the turn of the 20th century.” In his own
time, he was the acknowledged master of the festival oratorio and
influential in vitalizing such institutions as the Three Choirs Festival.
Since Parry was born and bred in the English Cathedral tradition, the
hymnic quality of this section from the oratorio Judith (1888) should not
surprise us. In the first act of the oratorio, there is a scene entitled
“The Children,” during which this ballad is a solo sung to the
children of the King. Its serene contours remind us of the halcyon quality
of life in certain levels of Victorian English society before the Great
War shattered many of its illusions.
Long
since in Egypt’s plenteous land,
He
pardoned them though they did wrong,
Our
fathers were oppressed;
And
brought them on their way.
but
God, whose chosen folk they were,
At
last to this good land they came,
Smote
those who long enslaved them there,
With
fruitful plenty blest;
And
all their woes redressed.
Here
glorious men won endless fame,
The
Red Sea stayed them not at all,
Here
God made holy Zion’s name,
Nor
depths of liquid green;
And
here He gave them rest.
On
either hand a mighty wall
O
may we never forget what He hath done,
Of
waters clear rose high at His call,
Nor
prove unmindful of his love,
And
they passed through between.
That,
like the constant sun,
In
deserts wild they wandered long,
On
Israel hath shone,
They
sinned, and went astray;
And
sent down blessings from above.
But
yet His arm to help was strong,
Drop,
drop slow tears
Orlando Gibbons
Orlando
Gibbons, (1583-1625) hailed by his English contemporaries as “one of the
rarest musicians and organists of his time,” stood at the parting of the
ways between the Elizabethan and Stuart regimes. Best known for his
madrigal “The Silver Swan” and his anthems in English for the Anglican
services, he also contributed sixteen hymn tunes printed in Wither’s
“Hymnes and songs of the church,” which included this poignant setting
of the text “Drop, drop slow tears.”
Drop,
drop slow tears,
To
cry for vengeance
And
bathe those beauteous feet
Sin
doth never cease.
Which
brought from Heaven
In
your deep floods
The
news and Prince of Peace:
Drown
all my faults and fears;
Cease
not, wet eyes,
Nor let His eye
His
mercy to entreat; See sin, but
through my tears.
Phineas
Fletcher (1580-1650)
Crux
fidelis
Domenico Bartolucci
For
more than fifty years, Monsignor Domenico Bartolucci (b. 1918) was
director of the Sistine Chapel Choir, and often supplied this
distinguished ensemble with appropriate music. The motet “Crux fidelis”
glorifies the cross, that instrument of death, as the vehicle of
redemption. The somber sonorities of the male chorus match the sobriety of
the text and provide a magnificent accompaniment for the ethereal soaring
soprano solo. The contrasting sections of flowing, chant-like textures for
the upper voices are balanced by the austere homophony of the lower
voices, and their combination in the final section is a profound
realization of the text.
Crux
fidelis inter omnes arbor una nobilis,
Faithful
Cross, singular tree, most noble among all, no
Nulla
silva talem profert fronde, flore, germine:
forest
has produced your like in branch, in bud, in seed: Such
Dulce
lignum dulces clavos, dulce pondus sustinet.
lovely wood to hold such nails and bear such a lovely weight.
Pange
lingua gloriosi lauream certaminis,
O
my tongue, weave a laurel
crown for the glorious struggle
Et
super crucis trophaeo dic triumphum nobilem:
By
telling of the noble triumph on that victory Cross where
Qualiter
Redemptor orbis immolatus vincerit.
Our
globe’s Redeemer vanquished death as he was sacrificed.
Sempiterna
sit Beatae Trinitati gloria:
Neverending
glory be to the Most Blessed Trinity:
Aequa
Patri Filioque, par decus Paraclito.
To
the Father, Son, and Spirit Advocate all equally. Let
Unius
Trinique nomen laudet universitas.
the
universe sing praises to the name of the One and Three.
Antiphon
& Hymn from the Veneration of the Cross, Good Friday
Trans.
by Tom Stratman, Seattle, © 1998. Used with permission.
“Fac
me tecum” from Stabat Mater
Karol Szymanowski
Karol
Szymanowski (1882-1937) considered himself a Polish composer, although he
was born in a highly sophisticated émigré enclave in the Ukraine, and
only came to Polish residence after years in the important musical centers
of Europe. His music defies classification, testifying to his early
loyalty
to Scriabin and an intense admiration for Ravel and Stravinsky in his
maturity. Szymanowski’s Stabat mater, set to Polish words, was written
in 1925-26 during a period when he was immersing himself in Polish folk
culture and searching for his national as well as musical roots. He
greatly simplified his style for this work, deliberately introducing
archaic formulas and moderating his usual brilliant palette of orchestral
color. This section, “Fac me tecum,” is written for unaccompanied
chorus and soprano soloist and recalls the pure style of Palestrina,
though it still uses modern harmonic idioms.
Fac
me tecum pie flere,
Make
me lovingly weep with you,
Crucifixo
condolere,
To
suffer with the Crucified
Donec
ego vixero.
So
long as I shall live.
Juxta
crucem tecum stare,
To
stand with you beside the cross,
Et
me tibi sociare
And
to join with you in deep lament:
In
planctu desidero.
This
I long for and desire.
from
the feast of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary
“Never
weather-beaten saile” from Songs of Farewell
Parry
Parry’s
Songs of Farewell which date from the last years of his life, are, with
some of his fine church anthems, his most enduring musical legacy. None of
his earlier music exceeds these motets in beauty of choral writing or of
musical ideas. The texts look to the past glories of English poetry, and
the music mirrors the yearning for certainty found in English poets John
Donne and Henry Vaughan. “Never weather-beaten saile” borrows its text
from Thomas Campion’s famous lute song of the same name.
Never
weather-beaten Saile more willing bent to shore,
Never
tyred Pilgrim’s limbs affected slumber more;
Than
my wearied spright now longs to flye out of my troubled brest:
O
come quickly sweetest Lord, and take my soule to rest.
Ever
blooming are the joyes of Heav’ns high paradice,
Cold
age deafes not there our eares, nor vapour dims our eyes;
Glory
there the Sun outshines, whose beames the blessed onely see:
O
come quickly glorious Lord, and raise my spright to thee.
Thomas
Campion (1567-1620)
67th
Psalm
Charles Ives
Ives
must have said to himself, “I will write a piece in two keys at the same
time. Let the sounds fall where they will.” (And in the middle a
mischievous little stab at the banality of so called “religious”
music!) Stubborn individuality and Yankee determination were yoked with a
remarkable visionary creative sense, making him unique in music history.
The harmonies no longer shock us, but the enormous certainty of expression
and energy still amazes us.
God
be merciful unto us, and bless us;
and cause his face to shine upon us; Selah.
That
thy way may be known upon earth,
thy saving health among all nations.
Let
the people praise thee, O God;
let all the people praise thee.
O
let the nations be glad and sing for joy:
for thou shalt judge the people righteously,
and govern the nations upon the earth. Selah.
Let
the people praise thee, O God;
let all the people praise thee.
Then
shall the earth yield her increase;
and God, even our own God, shall bless us.
God
shall bless us;
and all the ends of the earth shall fear him.
Psalm
67
Veni,
creator spiritus
Adam Rener
The
profound influence of Gregorian plainsong on the form and content of
16th-century polyphony is evident in this short motet by the Burgundian
composer Adam Rener (1485-1520), whose productive years were spent in the
courts of German nobility in Weimar and Wittenberg. He succeeded the
better-known Heinrich Isaac as organist and composer in Altenburg where he
remained until his death from wounds received in an altercation with a
court painter.
Veni
creator spiritus, Come,
Creator Spirit,
Mentes
tuorum visita: Visit
the souls of your devoted;
Imple
superna gratia, With
your divine grace fill
Quæ
tu creasti pectora. The hearts
which you have created.
Qui
Paraclitus diceris, You
are called Comforter,
Donum
Dei Altissimi,
Gift of the highest God,
Fons
vivus, ignis, caritas, Fount
of life, fire, love,
Et
spiritalis unctio. And
spiritual unction.
10th-c.
hymn for Pentecost
And
I saw a new heaven
Edgar Bainton
The
Anglican Cathedral composers, here represented by Edgar Bainton and
Charles Stanford, and to a limited extent by Gerald Finzi, were firmly and
fairly criticized by Ralph Vaughan-Williams and Benjamin Britten for their
staunch adherence to 19th-century German musical values. That they have
persisted, one can say triumphed, carrying their convictions and influence
well into mid 20th-century, has to do with the valuation of excellent
workmanship over fashion. For this music sings extraordinarily well and
performs its ordained function with grace, elegance, and sincerity. It is
impossible to listen to these anthems without imagining them in the
soaring acoustics of Durham or St. George’s Windsor, where many of these
composers were trained and lived out their fruitful, if cloistered, lives.
Bainton
(1880-1956) was one of that group of talented English artists whose life
was interrupted in mid-career by the First World War, during which he
spent some years in a German prison camp. His stirring vision of the New
Jerusalem, itself a remnant of Victorian optimistic belief, is
tinted
with a somewhat wistful nostalgia, and looks to the past, both musically
and spiritually.
And
I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first
earth were passed away; and there
was no more sea.
And
I, John, saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of
heaven, prepared as a bride adorned
for her husband.
Revelations
21: 1-4
Coelos
ascendit hodie
Charles Villiers Stanford
Sir
Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924), a contemporary of Parry and Edward
Elgar, was an energizing force in church music at the turn of the century.
His influence persists to the present day, where his Services are a basic
constituent of the cathedral repertoire. Coelos ascendit hodie for double
choir is from a set of three motets for unaccompanied chorus written in
1905, and gives evidence of the composer’s superb mastery of the choral
idiom and the triumphant ebullience of his style.
Cœlos
ascendit hodie,
Today
Jesus Christ, the King of Glory,
Jesus
Christus Rex gloriæ, Alleluia!
has
ascended into the heavens, Alleluia!
Sedet
ad Patris dexteram,
He
sits at the Father’s right hand,
Gubernat
coelum et terram, Alleluia!
ruling
heaven and earth, Alleluia!
Jam
finem habent omnia,
Now
are David’s songs fulfilled,
Patris
Davidis carmina. Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Jam
Dominus cum Domino,
Now
is the Lord with his Lord,
Sedet
in Dei solio, Alleluia!
He
sits upon the royal throne of God, Alleluia!
In
hoc triumpho maximo. Alleluia.
In
this his greatest triumph, Alleluia!
Benedicamus
Domino, Let us bless the Lord:
Laudatur
Sancta Trinitas,
let
the Holy Trinity be praised,
Deo
dicamus gratias. Alleluia.
let
us give thanks to the Lord, Alleluia! Amen.
God
is gone up
Gerald Finzi
Gerald
Finzi (1901-1956) is best known for his solo songs, but the same
sensitivity to words, rhymes, and poetic nuance characterizes his choral
part songs and his several English anthems. God is gone up, an anthem with
organ accompaniment, is a vibrant setting of Edward Taylor’s somewhat
extravagant religious imagery. Organ and choir combine to underline the
intensity of passages such as “heartcramping notes of melody” or
“heaven’s sparkling courtiers fly in flakes of glory.” There is
glorious trumpeting from both when the text requires. And we are suitably
“enravished” at the
marvelous
harmonies which embellish that word.
God
is gone up with a triumphant shout:
Methinks
I see
The
Lord with sounding Trumpets’ melodies:
Heaven’s
sparkling courtiers fly,
Sing
Praises out,
In
flakes of Glory down him to attend,
Unto
our King, sing praise seraphicwise!
And
hear Heartcramping notes of Melody
Lift
up your Heads,
Surround
his Chariot as it did ascend;
Ye
lasting Doors, they sing,
Missing
their Music, making ev’ry string
And
let the King of Glory enter in.
More
to enravish as they this tune sing.
from
Sacramental Meditations by Edward Taylor (1642-1729)
Hark,
I hear the harps eternal
Alice Parker
Alice
Parker (b. 1925) has made a cherished gift to choral music with her
arrangements of spirituals, both black and white. Her spirited setting of
Hark, I hear the harps eternal combines the
driving
force of the American heritage of shape-note singing, with brilliant
choral expertise, the fruitful result of her long association with Robert
Shaw and his talented singers.
Hark,
I hear the harps eternal
Fading
as the light of day,
Ringing
on the farther shore,
Passes
swiftly o’er those waters
As
I near those swollen waters,
To
the city far away.
With
their deep and solemn roar.
Souls
have crossed before me, saintly,
Hallelujah,
praise the Lamb,
To
that land of perfect rest;
Hallelujah,
Glory to the Great I AM.
And
I hear them singing faintly
And
my soul though stained with sorrow,
In
the mansions of the blest.
Notes:
Dr. Robert Scandrett
