Gustav Holst (1874-1934) owes his Teutonic name to the Swedish ancestry of his father. Yet he was “velly British,” thanks to his Anglo-Irish mother and his lifelong musical education and compositional career in England. Although he is best known today for his famous symphonic tone-poem The Planets and for his definitive works for wind band, he also had considerable experience as church organist/choir master (including study with Charles Villiers Stanford) and as director of choral societies. Whether listeners know him as the composer of Christmas Day: Choral Fantasy on Old Carols (1910), they are sure to recognize this familiar medley, originally composed for chorus and orchestra but sung tonight in a 1986 arrangement for chorus and organ with optional additional instruments by noted American composer of organ and choral works Dale Wood (1934-2003).
Nearing a century old, Holst’s Christmas fantasy remains fresh even today for its ingenious rhythmic and harmonic transitions, including several that may have served as drafts of memorable sections of The Planets (especially its good-humored “Jupiter” movement) and for its surprisingly effective counterpointing of different carol melodies against each other.
Quelle est cette odeur agreeable (“What is that goodly fragrance?”) is a traditional French carol arranged by world-renowned British choral composer and Director Emeritus of the King’s College Choir of Cambridge, Sir David Willcocks (b. 1919). Sir David’s most famous Cambridge protégé, John Rutter, also appears on tonight’s concert.
“Quelle est cette odeur” will be sung tonight in English translation
(stanzas 1-3 by A. B. Ramsay and stanza 4 by the arranger himself):
Whence is that goodly fragrance flowing, stealing our senses all away?
Never the like did come ablowing, shepherds, in flow’ry fields in May.
Whence is that goodly fragrance flowing, stealing our senses all away?
What is that light so brilliant, breaking here in the night across our eyes?
Never so bright, the daystar waking, started to climb the morning skies!
What is that light so brilliant, breaking here in the night across our eyes?
Bethlehem! there in mangerly lying, find your Redeemer, haste away.
Run ye with eager footsteps hieing! Worship the Saviour born today.
Bethlehem! there in mangerly lying, find your Redeemer, haste away.
Praise to the Lord of all creation. Glory to God, the fount of grace.
May peace abide in ev’ry nation, good-will in men of ev’ry race.
Praise to the Lord of all creation. Glory to God, the fount of grace.
Imagine standing in the year 1587 in the echoing spaciousness of the magnificent cathedral of St. Mark in Venice, Italy. Brass instruments, played by musicians stationed in balconies around the circumference of the cathedral, sound forth majestic chords, supported by the pipe organ. The choir joins, singing the great ancient Nativity hymn O Magnum Mysterium, in a new setting by cathedral organist Giovanni Gabrieli (1557-1612):
O magnum mysterium et admirabile sacramentum
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum jacentum in praesepio.
Beata virgo cujus viscera meruerunt portare Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
(O greatest of mysteries and most wonderful sacrament,
That all creatures could see the newborn Lord lying in the manger.
Blessed Virgin, whose womb was worthy of bearing the Lord Christ.
Alleluia.)
Written for eight-part double chorus, the two sections of the divided choir were often physically separated in the performing space, creating the “surround sound” effect of much of the music composed for St. Mark’s by Gabrieli and his near-contemporaries Andrea Gabrieli (his uncle) and Heinrich Schutz. In Giovanni’s setting of the Magnum Mysterium, the beautifully eerie antiphonal effect only heightens the intensity of worshippers’ contemplation of the Greatest of Mysteries that is the subject of the motet.
The magnificent Gloria by world-renowned composer John Rutter (b. 1945) served as the centerpiece of last year’s inaugural Christmas concert by Griffin Choral Arts. Tonight we present perhaps an even more familiar side of this famous composer’s works: the individual carols through which the world first became aware of his talent both for inventing original texts and for setting carol texts–whether his own or those of others—to captivating tunes. Although published when Rutter was in his mid-twenties, the Shepherd’s Pipe Carol came originally from his teenage years. The appearance of the Shepherd’s Pipe Carol in 1967 coincided interestingly with the popular success of new carols such as the sentimental “Little Drummer Boy,” by which Rutter may have been influenced and with which he may have been in some sense competing. Yet Rutter’s carol—youthful as it is—far surpasses merely commercial works like “The Little Drummer Boy” in its melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic inventiveness.
We are also fortunate tonight to be able to enhance this piping carol with the addition of flute obbligato, imitating the shepherd boy’s own instrumental offering. The text of the carol is by Rutter himself:
Going through the hills on a night all starry on the way to Bethlehem,
Far away I heard a shepherd boy piping on the way to Bethlehem.
Angels in the sky brought this message:
“Dance and sing for joy that Christ the newborn King
Is come to bring peace on earth, and he’s lying
Cradled there at Bethlehem.”
Tell me, shepherd boy piping tunes so merrily on the way to Bethlehem,
Who will hear your tunes on these hills so lonely on the way to Bethlehem?
“Angels in the sky brought this message:
‘Dance and sing for joy that Christ the newborn King
Is come to bring peace on earth, and he’s lying
Cradled there at Bethlehem.’”
“None may hear my pipes on these hills so lonely on the way to Bethlehem;
But a King will hear me play sweet lullabies when I get to Bethlehem.”
Angels in the sky came down from on high,
hovered o’er the manger where the babe was lying
cradled in the arms of his mother Mary,
Sleeping now at Bethlehem.
Where is this new King, shepherd boy piping merrily, is he there at Bethlehem?
I will find him soon by the star shining brightly in the sky o’er Bethlehem.”
Angels in the sky brought this message nigh:
“Dance and sing for joy that Christ the newborn King
is come to bring us peace on earth, and he’s lying
Cradled there at Bethlehem.”
May I come with you, shepherd boy piping merrily, come with you to Bethlehem?
Pay my homage too at the new King’s cradle, is it far to Bethlehem?
Angels in the sky brought this message nigh:
“Dance and sing for joy that Christ the infant King
is born this night in lowly stable yonder,
Born for you at Bethlehem.”
Franz Biebl’s Ave Maria was made immensely popular by the San Francisco-based men’s choral ensemble Chanticleer, and continues to be the group’s most requested piece. The setting combines the traditional Angelus (the annunciation from Archangel Gabriel to Mary that she will bear the Son of God, to which Mary responds in humble obedience) with the Ave Maria itself (often known as the Rosary prayer, petitioning Mary to help intercede with God on behalf of her fellow mortals).
Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae et concepit de Spiritu sancto.
(The angel of the Lord announced to Mary that she was pregnant
through the Holy Spirit.)
Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus
et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.
(Hail and bountiful thanks to you, Mary! The Lord is with you,
blessed among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.)
Maria dixit: Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.
(Mary said: Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me
according to your word.)
Et verbum caro factum est et habitavit in nobis.
(And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.)
Sancta Maria, mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora
mortis nostrae. Amen.
(Hail and bountiful thanks to you, Mary! The Lord is with you,
blessed among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour
of our death. Amen.)
Composed in 1964 and befitting its ancient subject, Biebl’s setting blends two compellingly simple musical styles: Gregorian chant in the solo passages and gently modern harmonies in the chorus sections, which further combine a solo trio in antiphony with the rest of the chorus. The result is a prayer-meditation that sounds much older than it actually is, but which in its compelling simplicity is one of the most ravishing compositions in all choral literature.
Franz Biebl (1906-2001) is known mainly for this piece, but he is known more widely in Germany as one of its most distinguished composers of choral music. As a World War II prisoner in a camp near Battle Creek, Michigan, he was allowed to continue his choral composing and even to arrange concerts of choral and chamber music.
Daniel Pinkham (1923-2006) was quoted in a 1981 Boston Globe interview as observing that “the single event that changed my life was a concert [he heard as a teenager at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts] by the Trapp Family Singers in 1939, right after they escaped from Germany. . . . Here, suddenly, I was hearing clarity, simplicity. It shaped my whole outlook.” These traits are abundantly clear in Pinkham’s now-famous Christmas Cantata (Sinfonia Sacra), commissioned in 1958 by King’s Chapel church in Boston, where Pinkham served as organist for 42 years, and dedicated to the chorus at the New England Conservatory of Music, on whose faculty Pinkham served for 48 years.
Musically, Pinkham’s cantata may be described as neo-medieval, showing the influence of the composer’s interest in the simplicity of medieval plainchant, modal composition, and folk-dance-like rhythmic variations. Pinkham is also paying homage to Renaissance settings of medieval Church hymns by the Venetian Gabrieli family (Giovanni of whom is also represented in tonight’s concert), in the use of vocal contrast, brass choir, and organ. Yet the piece is also modern, showing the influence of Pinkham’s teachers Walter Piston and Aaron Copland (at Harvard) and Samuel Barber and Arthur Honegger (at Tanglewood). Other
influences in the musical style of the Cantata include the twentieth century enthusiasts of “early music” Carl Orff and Maurice Ravel. As an example of Pinkham’s musical wit, we can even hear a quotation from Ravel’s sensuous Bolero, cleverly at the reference in Movement Two to the animals’ watching over the newborn Christ Child lying in the manger. Even for all these notable similarities to his admired models, both medieval and modern, Pinkham’s musical style is clearly also his own, and accessibly so.
The structure of Pinkham’s cantata closely follows the traditional Gregorian chants that were musical dramatizations of crucial scenes in the life of Christ. From the tenth century onward, chants such as the quem quaeritis (“whom are you seeking?”—the angel’s question to the Maries visiting the tomb of the risen Christ) became the basis for actual mini-dramas, in which actors portrayed the characters in the biblical stories. In the case of the Christmas shepherds, the chant was the Quem vidistis pastores—Shepherds, whom did you see?—in which witnesses ask the dramatic question of the shepherds, who then tell of their visit to the Christ Child. Pinkham draws us into these dramatic dialogues by combining the traditional dramatic tropes with musical effects appropriate to those texts.
The first movement is subdivided into a bold, dramatic opening (maestoso), followed by a quick, energetic, dance-like conclusion (allegro molto ritmico):
Quem vidistis, pastores? Dicite. Annuntiate nobis in terris quis apparuit. Natum vidimus, natum et choros angelorum collaudantes
Dominum. Alleluia!
(What did you see, shepherds? Tell us! Proclaim to us what appeared to you here on earth. We saw a newborn Child and a chorus of angels together praising God. Alleluia!)
Movement Two is marked adagio but could as easily have been called misterioso, particularly for the other-worldly writing for female voices and for the organ. The great O Magnum Mysterium (sung earlier on tonight’s concert in a version by Giovanni Gabieli) is the ancient text sung in monasteries at the first light of dawn (Matins) on Christmas Day.
O magnum mysterium et admirabile sacramentum
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum jacentum in praesepio.
Beata virgo cujus viscera meruerunt portare Dominum Christum.
(O greatest of mysteries and most wonderful sacrament,
That all creatures could see the newborn Lord lying in the manger.
Blessed Virgin, whose womb was worthy of bearing the Lord Christ.)
Movement Three—the Gloria in Excelsis Deo—is probably the most recognizable section in the cantata, bursting with hearty joy reminiscent of a medieval estampie (a foot-stomping dance style). Its text combines parts of the High Mass (the “Glory to God” from the Christmas Gospel of Luke) with Psalm 100. This movement is so infectious that listeners can’t resist joining the Angels in singing the Christmas news:
Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis.
Jubilate Deo omnis terra, servite Dominum in laetitia.
Introite in conspectus ejus, in exultatione.
Scitote quoniam Dominus ipse est Deus, ipse fecit nos, et non ipsi nos.
Alleluia!
(Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to all humankind
of good will. Praise the Lord, all the earth, serve the Lord with
thanksgiving. Come into His presence rejoicing. Know that the Lord, He
is God: it is He who has made us and not we ourselves. Alleluia!)
The origins of the famous carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas” are debated. Were the words based on an ancient Twelfth Night memory-test-and forfeit-penalty game? Or are the words a secret code used during the 16th century Protestant political suppressions to help young Roman Catholics remember their catechism (the partridge in a pear tree representing Christ on the Cross; two turtle doves representing the Old and New Testaments; etc.)? Or do the words merely represent joyful “secular” yuletide inventiveness?
In a sense, both playful mystery and joy are reflected in this holiday musical romp by contemporary American composer Craig Courtney, “A Musicological Journey through the Twelve Days of Christmas.” Written for the Columbus (Ohio) Symphony Chorus 1990 Holiday Pops Concert, this clever musical parody surveys the history of European and American music by setting each “number” verse in a different historical style, beginning with 6th century Gregorian chant and ending with a turn-of-the-20th-century surprise. In succession in between, you may be able to “name that composer” yourself. (A few hints–though you may not even need them—are the ever-popular “Anonymous” from late-medieval France and Strauss and Saint-Saens from the 19th century. Many of the objects named are also humorous clues.)
Craig Courtney began playing piano at age three and cello at seven. After earning bachelor’s and master’s degrees in piano performance at the University of Cincinnati, he studied and performed widely in Italy and Austria. He became a protégé, and later colleague, of well-known American choral composer John Ness Beck. Although perhaps best known for his widely-performed setting of the secular “Twelve Days of Christmas,” Courtney has also published extensively in the sacred realm.
The rollicking “Go Where I Send Thee” was arranged in 1995 by Paul Caldwell and Sean Ivory. Caldwell is Artistic Director for the Youth Choral Theater of Chicago. Ivory is the conductor both of the Grand Rapids Symphony Youth Chorus and of the Campus Choir at Calvin College, in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
The arrangers provide helpful explanation in a note at the end of their piece:
Go Where I Send Thee is a gospel arrangement of a spiritual from the African-American folk tradition which we first became familiar with through the work of Cynthia Wilson Felder in Texas. From the many variants of the text we have developed an extended version which allowed us to maximize the use of Gospel-style modulation and to give our singers significant one-line reminders of some of the biblical stories which the African-American musical tradition is based.
Some of the scriptural references are quite evident; others are somewhat cloaked. Eleven refers to the opinion that Judas Iscariot might not fare so well on judgment day. Nine is the number which traditionally represents the nine choirs of angels. Eight recalls the number of people instructed to board Noah’s ark: the shipbuilder, his wife, his three sons, and their wives. Five refers to the loaves of bread that ultimately fed five thousand people. The four Gospel writers are Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. And the three Hebrew children (Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego) were thrown into a fiery furnace by King Nebuchadnezzar.
Norwegian composer Egil Hovland (b. 1924) is one of his country’s most prolific and versatile composers of both secular and church music. In 1983 he was made a Knight of the Royal Order of Saint Olav.
The Scriptural source of his lovely “Stay With Us” (1999) is Luke 24:29—“Stay with us, Lord Jesus. It soon is evening, and night is falling.” These words are spoken near the end of Luke’s gospel by the Emmaus disciples, who invite the risen Christ to take the evening meal with them but recognize him only after he has broken the bread—and immediately disappeared from their sight.
This inspiration to the disciples’ faith is the text of the anthem, based upon one of the most ancient of Christian hymns, the Phos hilaron, written in Koine (New Testament) Greek as early as the 3rd century. This Trinitarian hymn focuses upon Christ as the light of the world, overcoming all darkness. This first Christian “candlelight service” hymn originated in the practice of ceremonial candle lighting at the beginning of evening worship. Even today, many Christian denominations celebrate the service of Evening Prayer (Vespers) with this hymn to Christ as the Light of the world.
Stay with us, Lord, stay with us.
Stay with us, it soon is evening, and night is falling.
Jesus Christ, the world’s true light!
Shine so the darkness cannot overcome it!
Let your light pierce the darkness and fill your church with its glory.
Hovland musically reinforces the Trinitarian nature of this famous early hymn by quietly energetic use of triplet patterns in the middle section of the anthem, sung by the women’s voices, as well as through rare but effective use of triple meter for the important words “stay with us” (a phrase whose three syllables is itself a “Trinitarian” formulation), and “evening.”
It is our hope that this eloquent longing for holy presence near the close of tonight’s concert will stay with us all throughout this holy season, and beyond.
—Program notes and translations by Bill Pasch