March 21-22, 2009
Program Notes by Sanford Dole
To my ear French music from the last quarter of the 19th century through the middle of the 20th century has as unmistakable a Gallic flavor as the Impressionist paintings from that time and place. After deciding to program Maurice Duruflé’s ethereal Requiem, I began recalling other favorite works by French composers and easily built an entire program around the nationality and period.
The Requiem and other works accompanied by organ or piano also afford an opportunity to feature our good friend and long-time principal accompanist, T. Paul Rosas. I knew he would shine in this repertoire, and I was excited by the chance to hear some of my other favorite French composers known for their organ works. Each half of tonight’s program will begin with an organ solo to set the mood.
Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992), a towering genius of 20th century music, was known for his large-scale symphonic works and his prowess as an organist. Always rooted in a deep spirituality, his music can evoke ecstasy and a calm centeredness at the same time. L’Ascension is one of the pieces that display this interesting duality, and Messiaen wrote a version for organ at the same time as the orchestral version. The work consists of four meditations on short prayers proper to the Catholic Mass on Ascension Day, and the second movement works beautifully as a keyboard solo and as a prelude to the more gentle style of the Duruflé. The movement, whose title translates to “Serene alleluias of a soul longing for heaven,” is inspired by the Scriptural text “We beseech you, O God. Grant that our souls may dwell in heaven.”
The Messiaen and the Duruflé Mass for the Dead that follows are most fitting for these performances, which we dedicate to the memory of a staunch supporter of BCG who died on February 7. In addition to his generous monetary gifts, Frank Hughes, the husband of soprano Márya Maddox, often ushered at our concerts, donated printing for musical scores, and helped out in other ways. We mourn his passing and through this music send our prayers to his family and friends.
Maurice Duruflé (1902–1986) had long been fascinated with using Gregorian chant melodies as the thematic material for his compositions and was already at work on a chant-based organ suite when in 1947 he received a commission from the French publisher Durand to compose a Requiem. He incorporated many of the sketches for the organ suite into his Requiem, which is based almost entirely on the Gregorian Mass for the Dead. Duruflé’s straightforward polyphony and his ability to maintain the natural flow of chant while surrounding it with modal harmonies make his style very appealing to modern sensibilities. Perfectionism limited his œuvre to just a handful of works, but the Requiem does not sound labored at all. In fact, what makes this one of the most serene Requiems ever composed is its seeming ease, combined with Duruflé’s decision to leave out the apocalyptic Dies irae text, which tends to be bombastic, and add a sublime In paradisum as the finale.
The second half of the program again begins with an organ solo. Jehan Alain (1911–1940) was born into a musical family. His father was an enthusiastic organist and organ builder, and his sister was the famous organist Marie-Claire Alain. A talented organist himself, Jehan began playing in churches at age eleven. His compositional career lasted only the 10 years between his studies at the Paris Conservatory and the outbreak of World War II in 1939, when he volunteered as a dispatch motorcyclist in the French army. He died a hero’s death a year later. Hearing the approach of German troops around a corner, he abandoned his motorcycle and killed sixteen single-handed before being killed himself. Litanies, his most famous work, is in the repertoire of many organists and is often heard as an uplifting postlude in churches worldwide. It was originally written as a humorous piece, but when his sister Odile died just weeks after completion of the first version, Alain revised and renamed the work and dedicated it to her.
Another tragically short career is that of Lili Boulanger (1893–1918), younger sister of Nadia Boulanger, the famous teacher of several generations of great American composers. At age two when she contracted the bronchial pneumonia that would eventually cut her life short, it was already apparent that Lili was a musical prodigy, and her parents, both musicians themselves, encouraged her musical education. By age 5, she would accompany the 10-year-old Nadia to classes at the Paris Conservatory and shortly thereafter began her own studies, music theory and organ at first and then piano, violin, cello, and harp. She composed prolifically right up until her death. Hymne au Soleil is the first of a series of works for chorus and orchestra written in preparation for the Prix de Rome of 1912. Illness forced her to withdraw from the rigorous competition that year, but the following year, at age 19, in a landslide vote, Boulanger did become the first woman to win first prize. We sing her adaptation of Hymne au Soleil for piano. The text is drawn from a scene in Casimir Delavigne’s play, The Pariah, in which Hindus venerate their sun god. The dramatic word-painting of the sunrise and powerful Debussy-like chords in parallel motion are somewhat atypical of Boulanger’s usually more subtle style.
Cantique de Jean Racine, the first significant composition of a 19-year-old Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924), won first prize when he graduated from the École Niedermeyer, a school founded to better the music in French churches. The text is 17th-century French dramatist Jean Racine’s translation of a medieval Latin hymn. Fauré’s romantic harmonies and gorgeous melodic lines spun out over a harp-like accompaniment have made this a favorite of choral enthusiasts ever since it was first performed in 1866. Years later, in 1883, when he was a teacher at École Niedermeyer, Fauré wrote Madrigal on a poem by Armand Silvestre as a wedding present for his student and lifelong friend, the composer André Messager. This work again displays Fauré’s prowess at effectively setting lilting melodies over a simple piano accompaniment.
Like Debussy and Fauré, Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921) is primarily noted for his non-choral music, but his œuvre does include some choral gems. Composed in 1882 at the height of his career, Deux chœurs is a pair of songs setting anonymous poems in contrasting styles. “Calmes des nuits” evokes the poetry of stillness, and the exuberant “Les fleurs et les arbres” glorifies both art and nature. Saint-Saëns, like several others on our program, was a prodigy and famous in his day, not just as a composer, but also as an organist.
We conclude the program with Trois chansons de Charles d’Orléans by Claude Debussy (1862–1918), one of my favorite works in the secular, a-cappella literature. Not easy to learn, these songs are nonetheless very well crafted and extremely gratifying to perform. Sadly for choruses everywhere, this is the only purely choral music Debussy ever composed. Samir Savant of Pegasus Music deftly sums up its content.
The works connect the styles of the past with the harmonic techniques of the time; the texts are by Charles d’Orléans, prince and poet, who was imprisoned in England after the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. The works are not thematically related. “Dieu! qu’il la fait” is a shimmering love song; in “Quant j’ai ouy” a languorous melody for soloist meanders above quick percussive-like vocal accompaniment; and the energetic “Yver” scolds winter for its cruelty.
Thank you for attending this concert. Please tell your friends about us, and invite them to join us for our next program, A World of Song. This selection of folksongs and indigenous music from every corner of the globe is sure to delight you.
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