I have taken an unplanned break from writing blogs, but someone suggested I should do something on music for Passiontide.  I will avoid the St Matthew and St John Passions, the two giants written by J.S. Bach, and, at the opposite end, Stainer’s Crucifixion, about which a famous conductor (maybe Sir Adrian Boult) when asked his opinion of it by an enthusiastic amateur singer, replied ‘I think it’s a very good idea’.

As every cathedral choir singer knows, as well as the members of the finest chamber choirs, there exists a rich abundance of works from the era of the Renaissance, a supply which has increased significantly in recent years with the rediscovery of works by less familiar composers. As in previous blogs, I have selected some of my favourites and commented, though similar characteristics pervade many of them. There are 10 pieces and you might prefer to make your own selections if you are not inclined to wade through them all.

These are my personal introductions more than detailed analysis, combined with some light historical research for dates and the odd piece of biographical detail. I have not presumed to go into anything too technical – modes, Gregorian plainsong etc. I would need to go back to university for that, but better left to academics! They are part of a world which enriched my earliest musical life, alongside the great Masses of Byrd, Palestrina, Tye etc.

No.1 on the list caused me a ‘Damascene’ moment whilst singing it, I think on Maundy Thursday 1961. I may be a year out, but I don’t think so. I recall that young cathedral choristers enjoy singing the likes of Parry ‘I Was Glad’, and the extended works of S.S. Wesley a lot more than a cappella Renaissance music.  On this one occasion everything suddenly just clicked and from then on and forever, the works of Tallis, Byrd, Palestrina and co. fell into place.

1. TOMÁS LUIS DE VICTORIA 1548-1611: O VOS OMNES.

Not easy to define why this short motet is so powerful, but it is, and my feeling is that the falling scales to the words si est dolor similis capture the aching desolation of the text in an understated way which is a characteristic of Victoria.  The text is from the Tenebrae (literally ‘darkness’) Responsories which became part of the Roman Catholic tradition for the three days from Maundy Thursday leading to Easter.  A Responsory historically had involved a Cantor reciting a text and the choir responding, as in the ‘Responses’ in a choral evensong.  The structure evolved into choir motets on their own, whilst retaining the title ‘Responsory’.  This motet is not from Victoria’s set of Tenebrae, though is similar to his other setting of the same text in his Tenebrae. After the first phrase the words are repeated with a more obvious intensity to the second statement attendite universi populi (‘behold all people’), before the conclusion repeats the si est dolor (‘if there is sorrow’) music of the first half. As with the finest string quartets of later composers, it is remarkable to experience the greatness of Victoria’s writing and how he achieves extraordinary ‘passion’ out of the limited resource of four voice parts.

O all you who pass by the way, behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow. (Lamentations Chapter 1, v. 12)

Spotify and Youtube

https://open.spotify.com/track/0ozqGAp8ztbqj9ImqSbjRy?si=vmIjgmOkSAWc6IXv0qkgaQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX8BUfe8fnQ

YouTube of the other Tenebrae version….also very fine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOMvd80HvqU

2. ORLANDO LASSUS 1532-1594: TRISTIS EST ANIMA MEA

This is another of the Tenebrae Responsories for Maundy Thursday. It is more elaborate than the Victoria setting above, largely because of the five voice parts, the thicker texture providing a more luxurious effect.  At times it is chordal and in a more Palestrina-like sound world, but the overlapping descending scales towards the end give it its own intensity, a feature found in many other works by Renaissance composers. Composers from the 14^th century knew about how to communicate and connect with performers and listeners as much as the great Romantic composers. As with all the works I have selected, this is another gem from a profound composing mind. The first half of the text quotes St Matthew’s gospel, and the second half takes its own literary path.

My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death; tarry here and watch with me (St Matthew 26:38).  Now you shall see the crowd that will encompass me. You shall take flight and I will go to be sacrificed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pcThx87qnoM

3. THOMAS TALLIS c.1505-1585: LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAH

The texts of the Tenebrae included passages from the Old Testament book The Lamentations of Jeremiah, of which O Vos Omnes is a part. Thomas Tallis’s setting of the first five verses of the Book of Lamentations are extraordinarily fine, even by Tallis’s standards. Each of the five sections begins with its own letter from the Hebrew alphabet –Aleph, Beth, Gimel, Daleth, Heth. (The word ‘alphabet’ comes from the first two letters though it has other origins as well as Hebrew.)

Tallis’s Lamentations are in two groups, each with its own introduction. I will comment on the first group, Aleph and Beth. The introduction simply says ‘here begins the lamentation’ etc.  The five-voice texture moves in independent lines (contrapuntally), and is followed by the first letter ‘Aleph’ in a separate section of its own, and leads into the first biblical verse.  This in turn is followed by the second letter, Beth, again in its own section, each of the four lower voices rising and falling in turn to the single word while the top voice holds on to a single held note.  The second verse then follows with some alteration in the texture with two groups in various formations ‘lamenting’ the desolation of Jerusalem, described as the ‘widow’. The lines become more independent again to the words omnes amici eius spreverunt eam, et facti sunt ei inimici (‘all her [Jerusalem’s] friends have dealt treacherously with her, they are become her enemies’).  After this the second biblical verse ends and the master moment is added with the top voice acting as if ‘cantor’, two notes ahead of the block harmony of the four lower voices moving together to the added text Jerusalem, Jerusalem, convertere ad Dominum Deum tuum (‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return unto the Lord your God’). This is a section of arresting effectiveness which concludes the first group of Lamentations. The same text returns at the end of the second group after the fifth section Heth, in more extended and linear style. It is difficult to separate the reflective beauty of these refrains; they both display the best of Tallis.

Here begins the lamentation Jeremiah the prophet.

1. Aleph

How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people! How is she become as a widow! She that was great among the nations and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary!

2. Beth

She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks: among all her lovers she hath none to comfort her: all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they are become her enemies. (Lamentations Chapter 1, vv.1-2)

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return unto the Lord your God.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1Ud64pWX63TPOgTqoZlkIZ?si=K0ANEIvnRTajbo94Qp7v9A

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ul8Hx1Fi-e8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOfcFHtCqgg

4. WILLIAM BYRD 1543-1623: CIVITAS SANCTI TUI

This work is often sung on its own, although it originally formed the second part of the motet Ne irascaris Domine.  Byrd later set this second part only to the English text ‘Bow thine ear, O Lord’.  Again, the central theme is the desolation of Jerusalem, and one of Byrd’s most passionate outpourings. I repeat the word ‘passionate’ intentionally, describing the intense expression of the music as well as the season of the church’s year. All the works I have chosen to some extend have similar characteristics. The seeming simplicity of Byrd’s motet serves to strengthen its power and depth.

The falling scale of the opening words is shared between the five voice parts independently of each other – ‘contrapuntally’.  The music stops before the words Sion deserta facta est, sung in block harmony by the four upper voices, and then an octave lower by the four lower voices, almost as if a group of trombones. As with Tallis’ Lamentations, the change of texture and the chordal writing here are wonderfully striking, and are followed by the pleading cries ‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem’, reverting to counterpoint, rising a fourth or fifth between the first two syllables before falling away in descending scales of three notes.  The final passage desolata est continues in similar vein, and brings to a conclusion one of Byrd’s greatest compositions.

The city of thy sanctuary is become a desert: Sion is become a desert: Jerusalem is desolate.

Version sung by Voces 8 with Ne Irascaris at the beginning

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo8qfyK9c3c

5. GIOVANNI PIERLUIGI DA PALESTRINA c.1525-1594: SUPER FLUMINA BABYLONIS

Though written for the 20^th Sunday after Pentecost, this simple motet is often performed during Passiontide with a text from Psalm 137, and is connected to the book of Jeremiah, similar to the mould of those discussed above.  It is a short motet for four voice parts with falling scales again portraying melancholy and desolation, notable to the texts ‘dum recordaremur tui Sion’ (‘when we remember thee O Sion’), and suspendimus organa nostra (‘we hanged our harps upon the trees’).  (I think the translation of organa to ‘harps’ is a convenience!) Another short masterpiece, full of longing.

By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept when we remembered thee O Sion.  As for our harps, we hanged them upon the trees in the midst thereof. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNBU-W0UmUU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWxanvJ31Ys

6. G.P. DA PALESTRINA: STABAT MATER

This is a setting of the 13^th century text reflecting the thoughts of Mary, mother of Jesus, at the foot of the cross. Each of the twenty 3-line verses is in the form of trochaic tetrameters (I had to look this up too), which means four stressed syllables alternating with four unstressed.

Stabat mater dolorosa

Juxta crucem lacrimosa

Dum pendebat filius.

This is Renaissance a cappella music on an extended scale.  It is set for double four-part choirs and is almost, but not quite entirely, written in chordal harmony, quite unlike the mainly contrapuntal writing of earlier Palestrina and most 16^th century composers. The two choirs alternate throughout the twenty verses, sometimes line by line of the poem, but also in half-lines, and occasionally coming together and overlapping.  Its grandeur and clarity of texture seem to complement the Palladian architecture of the time – clean lines and ‘open air’ music, the antiphonal construction anticipating the later style of the Venetian composers such as Monteverdi. 

The Council of Trent, held over three sessions between 1543 and 1563, and which met to secure the status and practices of the Roman Catholic Church following the Reformation, began a process of curtailing the excesses of religious practices, including those in music. This setting and Palestrina’s Pope Marcellus Mass (Missa Papae Marcelli) illustrate the influence of the Council, which sought to ensure that congregations could hear and understand the texts of the music they heard – something more easily achieved in block harmony when everyone is singing the same words at the same time. Palestrina has achieved a unique and beautifully-crafted work, with a special flourish at the very end from the overlapping falling-scale entries to the final words ‘paradisi gloria’.

Diversion alert: At this point in my first draft I stuck my neck out and said that if the poem Stabat Mater is written in trochaic tretrameters, then Gray’s ‘Elegy written in a Country Churchyard’ is therefore in the form of trochaic pentameters – five stresses alternating.  I was anticipating corrective measures from an academic, and that is what I got.  Gray's Elegy is in Iambic pentameters, as used by Shakespeare, with the unstressed syllable preceding the stressed one. How vividly I remember my very dear old English teacher, with his low, slow gravelly voice, and who rejoiced in the name of Dick Hole (I jest not) reciting this verse with such affection.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea,

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Returning to Stabat Mater, this text has been set to music by a very large number of composers over the centuries, including a twelve-minute setting by Verdi as part of his ‘Four Sacred Pieces’ and, perhaps most remarkably, by Dvorak in a ten-movement 90-minute setting with soloists and full orchestra, perhaps his finest and most moving choral work. Dvorak conducted a performance in the Royal Albert Hall on 13^th March 1884 with the Royal Choral Society, then known as the Royal Albert Hall Choral Society.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EWvz3ivfiI

7. HEINRICH SCHÜTZ 1585-1672: EHRE SEI DIR CHRISTE

This is the final chorus of Schütz’ Matthäus-Passion – a very much drier creation than the great work of J.S. Bach, but extending the scope of some of the settings which preceded it. After all the prolonged unaccompanied recitative, interspersed with short and, for Schütz, restrained choral writing, this at the end projects itself in tormented anguish through chromaticism and suspensions creating discords from the beginning. The text und herrschest mit dem Vater dort in Ewigkeit – ‘and now reigns with the Father in eternity’ is stated three times in declamatory and simpler harmony, but the change then to hilf uns armen Sündern (‘help us poor sinners’), is itself stated passionately three times, the third extending the text zu der Seligkeit (‘to reach salvation’).  The chorus ends with the opening text of the Mass, Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison etc. The Christe eleison breaks tellingly from the central key of G minor into a rousing B flat major, before the closing Kyrie returns to the home key, again subdued.  The chorus is a masterpiece of understated angst and intensity.

Glory to you, Christ, who, for us at the foot of the cross, suffers a bitter death and now reigns with the Father in eternity. Help us poor sinners to reach salvation.  Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.

Spotify versions better than YouTube

https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZqxM5A3KilFiNBeacfgti?si=zOxjSQ2mQZS195LBJC0q2Q

https://open.spotify.com/track/7fzZHEpU5gayduHBID0Mfb?si=uG2Ehb8uSjWJ_2HqRH575A

YouTube - not perfect but not rushed.  Some pitch issues.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxrrUD5WfaA

8. JOHN BLOW 1649-1708: SALVATOR MUNDI

Stepping outside the Renaissance world, I would like to mention John Blow, an organist at Westminster Abbey who stepped down, or was removed, to make way for Henry Purcell.  Blow then became organist and choirmaster at St Paul’s Cathedral, one of the finest Gothic cathedrals in Europe, and later returned to Westminster Abbey following Purcell’s death.  His most notable anthem was Salvator Mundi, set previously by earlier composers including Thomas Tallis, Sheppard and Palestrina. Instrumental accompaniment was becoming the norm in the Protestant church, as with most of the church music of Henry Purcell.

Each of the five voice parts in turn sing the opening words to the same note, gradually creating the harmony.  The suggestion of suffering is created by suspensions creating discords, which linger rather more than in earlier times before finally resolving. (Unresolved discord which preceded atonal music only began to appear at the end of the 19^th century, though some earlier composers certainly explored the boundaries.)  The chromatic writing on words such as ‘qui per crucem’ increases tension and further emphasises Jesus’ suffering.  The music comes to a rest half way through, and the D minor and G minor keys of the first section are then replaced with their major version. A generally less strained, but no less powerful, second half built on combining the two ideas of falling scales – ‘auxiliare nobis’ (‘help us’) and a more urgent ‘te de precamur’ (‘we beseech thee’) leads to impressive, and again more chromatic, final bars. Sounds of Henry Purcell (his pupil) pervade this outstanding work, a rare gem which stands alongside his more illustrious pupil who was only seven years his younger.

Saviour of the world, save us, who by your cross and blood has redeemed us. Help us, we beseech you, our God.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zsx8uTni4U

9. THE REV. DR. SIR FREDERICK ARTHUR GORE OUSELEY 1825-1889: O SAVIOUR OF THE WORLD, BARON SALOP

The 19^th century marked a prolific outpouring of church music in England, though in general (I’m probably inviting a lynching) the quantity is not backed up by quality. Cathedral choirs, and I include myself from my singing days, still enjoy singing the extended works of the likes of S.S. Wesley – almost mini oratorios, and the slightly later Stanford and Parry, but it is significant that the pupils of the latter two, Holst and Vaughan Williams, both broke away from their more limited elders and mentors. The 18^th and 19^th centuries belonged more to our European neighbours in Germany, France, Italy and Russia. Britain returned to the main stage again in the 20^th century.

That said, the 19^th century was not all that bad, and one or two composers did achieve something of a higher level in some pieces. One such example is this Passiontide motet by Sir F.A.G. Ouseley. Baron Ouseley was an ordained priest, and a keen musician of the Anglican church – an occupation regarded in society as beneath the level of an aristocrat.  He became Professor of Music at Oxford, and for his PHD he wrote an oratorio The Martyrdom of St Polycarp, well-known now, of course, and firmly embedded in the international choral repertoire! I seem to remember, but not the notes, singing a turgid Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis by Ouseley.  There was also his short anthem ‘How goodly are the tents’, which I do remember for its beginning. Each voice part sings the word ‘How’ in turn for a whole bar. The sub-organist of St Paul’s Cathedral, Harry Gabb, would hold up his right hand for each of the four entries, as if portraying a greeting from Tonto in ‘The Lone Ranger’.  You can look up the music on CPDL to see what I mean!

But! O Saviour of the World is a rather more impressive short anthem for double four-part choir, with something of Brahms/Liszt-like about it. The harmony is thick without having the sentimental sludge of much of Victorian church music, and one might even detect a tinge of Purcell in the harmony … I would not drive that point too vigorously. The two choirs alternate and also combine, rather as in Palestrina’s Stabat Mater, though this is a very different world.  Similar techniques to earlier times are used – suspensions creating clashes emphasising the Passiontide text, falling scales and occasional chromaticism.  The text is the same as Salvator Mundi, but in English.  I rate this work amongst the highest of Victorian output, and its conciseness is probably a virtue. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q120BV6QabY

10. JOHN TAVERNER c.1490-1545: DUM TRANSISSET SABBATUM

My final choice takes us back to early Renaissance, and forward to Easter Day.  Some English composers, especially from the first half of the 16^th century produced choral music of extraordinary scope and greatness, complementing the great Normal and Gothic architecture in which they were sung.  Amongst them were John Sheppard, Christoper Tye and John Taverner.  Dum Transisset Sabbatum is an outstanding work, and wonderful to sing. It is written in three sections, with plainsong separating each. Fortunately, there are repeats which mean that one gets two cracks at singing the middle section and three at the third. It is written for five-part choir, with the fourth voice down singing the cantus firmus’ – a plainsong melodic thread which runs through the whole piece, as in many early compositions, and is the foundation on which the rest is built. The soaring phrases keep on coming in waves. One surfs them vocally and bathes in the melodic and harmonic richness of the writing. What a deep joy it was to sing this glorious piece on Easter Sunday morning in King’s College Chapel.

The three sections of whole composition are first sung through. There follows a plainsong interlude, followed by a repeat of second and third sections. Then another shorter plainsong passage, and finishing with the second repeat of last section. One might be tempted to sing it through once and not bother with the plainsong and repeats, but that means leaving the party early, and missing the extended experience, the long melismatic phrases and the many climbs to the highest note.

And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James and Salome, had brought sweet spices, // that they might come and anoint Jesus.// Alleluia.

Plainsong I: And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun.

Plainsong II: Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUBF7kNVlbY

I have had to leave out more that I have included, but I hope you enjoy listening to these masterpieces as the pandemic drags on.  I look forward so much also to seeing everyone and performing music together again.

Richard

March 10^th 2021