Choral Music Magazine
APRIL ISSUE
As this issue of Choral Music Magazine posts to the internet, Christianity is entering the climax of the liturgical year: the period of Holy Week and Easter. A large repertoire of music in many different styles has been inspired by the events told during these epic three days, all designed to capture, in a way beyond words, the powerfully contrasted emotions of this profound time. The core events of this most holy season are the Sacred Triduum: the Three Holy Days – Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday – days that form the core of the Christian faith, as the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ are observed throughout the world. However, these days do not coincide directly with regular days in the secular calendar. Rather, they are calculated in the same way that the Jewish people calculated Shabbat at that time, and still do: from dusk the previous evening to dusk of the day itself. Thus the Sacred Triduum begin at dusk on Wednesday evening with the service of Tenebrae and end the evening of Holy Saturday with the Great Vigil of Easter. These are not a series of separate services, but rather one vast, unfolding liturgy that resumes the following day where it previously left off. In commenting about the music written for these days, it is impossible to ignore the liturgy that accompanies its singing, for these two elements are as inextricably linked to one another. It is the liturgy that gives a context to the music, and the music that enhances the liturgy.
It should first be observed that it is possible to celebrate the Triduum in their entirety through the timeless medium of Gregorian chant. The ancient beauty of a cappella plainsong can take one from the opening of the first day, with the ancient service of Tenebrae, meaning shadows (a service where light plays a powerful role) to the expectancy and excitement of the Great Vigil of Easter, as Alleluia – that ancient Hebrew shout of praise – is gloriously restored to the liturgy, having been suppressed during the season of Lent. There are many memorable highlights from the Gregorian repertoire for the Triduum. The Lamentations of Jeremiah are chanted at Tenebrae, which include the singing of the Hebrew letters “Aleph,” “Beth,” and “Ghimel,” functioning like verse numbers throughout this desolate text. On Maundy (or Holy) Thursday the well-known Mode VI melody Ubi caritas (made familiar to many of us by the exquisite setting of Maurice Duruflé) is sung during the moving ceremony of the Washing of the Feet, where Christ’s role as servant to his disciples at the Last Supper is reenacted. Later during the same mass, Thomas Aquinas’ great hymn Pange lingua gloriosi is chanted during the Solemn Procession, as the Blessed Sacrament is taken to the Altar of Repose, sung to the austere Mode III melody. As this procession concludes, the church is solemnly stripped of all ornaments and darkness encroaches in anticipation of Good Friday. When it arrives, this most austere day of the whole liturgical year is marked by singing the Passion of St. John, at the Solemn Liturgy and Mass of the Pre-sanctified, chanted to a special tone, designed to highlight the differences between the characters in the story. The Evangelist (Chronista) narrates the story and sings in a medium tempo and range (media vox). Christ (Christus) sings slowly in a low register (bassa vox), giving an appropriate depth and meaning to the words of Jesus. The words of Judas, Pilate (Synagoga) and the Crowd (Turba) are sung faster and in a high register (alta vox), adding an element of drama to the narration. These chants represent a stage in which music was shaped exclusively and in every detail by the requirements of textual pronunciation. Willi Apel, writing in his definitive treatise Gregorian Chant, describes them thus: “They are the purest embodiment of that principal which, more than 1000 years later, when the recitative was reborn, [Claudio] Monteverdi expressed in the famous words: ‘L’orazione sia padrona dell’ armonica e non serva’ [The word should be the mistress of the music, not the servant].”
The passion story literally comes to life when chanted in this way, forming a powerful connection over the centuries with our Christian forbears. Two further high-points of Gregorian chant repertoire occur during the Great Vigil of Easter. As this liturgy begins, one of the most elaborate and exquisite chants of the whole repertoire, the Exsultet, is declaimed by the Deacon in front of the newly-lighted Paschal candle. Later in the mass, what has become known as the Great Alleluia is sung – a Mode VIII melody that marks the glorious restoration of this ancient shout of praise to the liturgy after having been suppressed for the season of Lent. This chant is sung three times, each at a higher pitch, ushering in the intoning of the Easter Gospel, which tells of Mary Magdalene finding the tomb empty.
If we turn to the polyphonic repertoire, we find music by all the giants of the Renaissance period represented. The mass on Maundy Thursday is unique in the liturgical year – a celebration of the institution of the Eucharist that is tinged with foreboding of what will come next. This is wonderfully reflected in the setting of the introit of the day, Nos autem gloriari by the Portuguese composer Manuel Cardoso. Set for five voices, it is at once both celebratory and poignant, as chromatic alterations beautifully capture the mixed emotions of this unique day. Mass begins in a blaze of glory, as the Gloria in excelsis is sung, and ends in the darkness and despair of the garden of Gethsemane, the whole church having been stripped of its ornaments and hangings. This literal deconstruction of the interior of the church is accompanied by the solemn chanting of Psalm 22 to the traditional Gregorian psalm tone, a combination that is particularly powerful. The tract for this mass, Venite, comedite, has been superbly set by William Byrd. It is a piece that works extremely well liturgically, covering the gospel procession exactly, and is a setting that rightly celebrates the institution of the last supper: “Come, eat my bread, and drink the wine which I have mingled for you.” No tinges of sadness or tragic foreboding here! While not an appointed text for this mass, Byrd’s exquisite setting of Ave verum Corpus has become intimately associated with Maundy Thursday, and rightly so. Byrd’s music conjures up for us the depth of Christ’s sacrifice and subsequent gift to humanity as few pieces can, capturing perfectly the mood of this moment. For the ordinary of the mass, the setting by Josquin Des Pres, Missa Pange lingua is an excellent choice. The austere Mode III melody of Aquinas’ hymn, heard during the Solemn Procession that follows, is used as a cantus firmus throughout the work.
On Good Friday, the Solemn Liturgy and Mass of the Pre-sanctified is unique amongst all the liturgies of the church year. Because it is not permitted to celebrate the Eucharist on Good Friday, there are no movements of the Ordinary of the mass at all. The solemn singing of the Passion narrative from St. John’s Gospel has already been mentioned. Many composers of the Renaissance chose to set the verses for the crowd (Turba) polyphonically. The best-known of these is by the Spanish master Tomàs Luis de Victoria, written for four voices. Orlandus Lassus also set them (in four parts) as did Byrd (for three voices). The juxtaposition of chant and polyphony can be extremely effective during this lengthy gospel. One of the central actions of the Good Friday liturgy is the Veneration of the Cross, where the faithful come forward to kiss the Cross, the sign of our redemption. While this profoundly intimate moment is taking place, the appointed text Improperia, commonly known in English as the Reproaches, are sung. There can be absolutely no doubt that the setting to use here is Popule meus, quid feci tibi by Victoria. What is most powerful about his setting is that it is written in Mode VI, giving a calmness and serenity to this powerful text that is just breathtaking. Interpolated into Victoria’s setting are the original Gregorian verses, which always rise to a haunting B-flat in their final phrase. The combination of the effect of the chant and Victoria’s polyphony is indescribable, and a true marriage of liturgy and music. Later in the service, as the Blessed Sacrament is brought back from the Altar of Repose, the antiphon Adoramus te, Christe is sung. What makes this moment so poignant is that this text addresses Christ directly in the vocative form: “We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.” At that very moment, Christ himself, present in the Blessed Sacrament, is being solemnly carried back to the altar. Here again we sense depth of the intimate connection between liturgy and music. Many composers have been inspired by the power of this text, two of the finest settings being by Lassus (four voices) and Giovanni Maria Nanino (five voices, with the addition of a second soprano). If the procession is long, another appointed antiphon, Salvator mundi, can be added, sung, of course, to the exquisite setting by Thomas Tallis.
So on to the Feast of Feasts, as the orthodox tradition so aptly describes the Great Vigil and First Mass of Easter. It begins where Good Friday left off – in profound darkness. But not for long! The new fire is kindled, the Paschal Candle lit, and Christ the light of the world dispels the darkness of death once more. During the procession to the front for the Renewal of Baptismal Vows, the appointed text is Sicut cervus. Palestrina’s sublime setting works particularly well here, capturing perfectly the quiet expectancy of this part of the vigil. In most situations the first part alone will suffice, but in larger buildings it will also be possible to sing the less-familiar but equally fine secunda pars: Sitivit anima mea. The Easter gospel text mentioned earlier inspired what is undoubtedly one of the most ecstatic works in the whole polyphonic repertoire – John Taverner’s exquisite setting of Dum transisset sabbatum. Written for five voices, with the addition of a baritone part, this work truly captures the mystery and ecstasy of the resurrection. The plainsong melody appears in the baritone as a cantus firmus, and both the verse and Gloria Patri feature this melody alone. For the remaining sections, Taverner weaves a glorious tapestry of counterpoint around the chant, reaching a climax at the setting of the word “Alleluia.” Another work that can complement this liturgy well, although not strictly a text for the Great Vigil, is Byrd’s great six-voice setting of Haec Dies. However, liturgical purists should program it in its traditional place as the gradual antiphon on Easter morning! Interestingly, there is no text appointed for the communion at this mass. A piece which works really well is Francisco Guerrero’s motet Maria Magdalene. Set for six voices, with the addition of second soprano and baritone voices, this glorious work is suffused with the excitement of the resurrection, particularly at the phrase “surrexit, non est hic” [he is risen, he is not here]. In parishes where the choir sings a setting of the ordinary, Alonso Lobo’s parody mass on this motet, Missa Maria Magdalene is a perfect choice.
And so, as First Mass of Easter draws to a glorious close, the final shout of Ite missa est [Go, the mass is ended] takes on a life of its own, as the now-obligatory double Alleluias are added. And go we do indeed, for not only is the mass ended, but also this epic journey through the Sacred Triduum – Three Days after which life will never be quite the same again.
Paul M. Ellison is Director of Music at Church of the Advent of Christ the King in San Francisco where he directs their professional choir, Schola Adventus. He also lectures in music history at San Francisco State University.
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