PSALMS OF DAVID
Mar 9-11, 2012
Program Notes by Sanford Dole
Program Notes by Sanford Dole
Tonight’s program is a sequel of sorts to the “Festival of Masses” concert we presented last June. During that show we sang three different Mass settings, each from a different era and locale. To follow up on the idea of a text-centered exploration of sacred choral music through time and from around the world, tonight we have selected the Book of Psalms. Reciting one or more of the 150 psalms that survive in the Old Testament of the Bible as we know it today is a part of virtually every Jewish and Christian service. Throughout recorded music history, these texts, many of which are ascribed to King David and intended to be sung, have been set by many composers in the musical style of their day. We will sample a few settings from the wide variety of examples in this genre. I have intentionally juxtaposed anthems from various eras and locations, creating a musical crazy quilt. My aim is to highlight the beauty of each style by contrasting the compositional approach as we move from set to set.
We’ll begin with one of the greatest flowerings of sacred choral music, England in the 16th and 17th centuries. Of course, an entire program of psalm settings by English composers could be very satisfying. But for this survey I have chosen to feature just three of my favorites. As a boy, Henry Purcell was a chorister in the Chapel Royal. After his voice broke at an unusually early age, he went to work at Westminster Abbey tuning the organ and copying music, eventually becoming the organist. This was during the reign of Charles II, for whom he wrote “welcome songs” and participated in the Chapel Royal as organist and singer. His court appointments were renewed after the ascension of James II. It was for the coronation of the new king, in 1685, that he composed I was glad.
One hundred years earlier William Byrd was also employed in the Chapel Royal, during the reign of Elizabeth I. Although a Roman Catholic himself, he was able to keep this fact hidden as he worked in the Anglican Church, even securing the exclusive rights, along with Thomas Tallis, to publish music. Although he wrote many Latin motets for the Catholic liturgy, he may be best known for his part-songs in English, both sacred and secular.
Orlando Gibbons got his start in the choir of Kings College, Cambridge. After moving to London he, too, became a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal in the Court of James I and later became the organist of Westminster Abbey. The eight-part anthem O clap your hands is an example of his penchant for treating traditional texts with great expressivity on a grand scale.
On my trip to Europe last Fall I made a point of visiting Scandinavia. It was my first time in this part of the world, and I enjoyed touring the beautiful cities of Copenhagen and Stockholm. My goal, however, was to listen to choirs in this region, which has a rich choral tradition. In fact, a lot of incredibly beautiful choral music is being created by composers in the Scandinavian countries, as well as in Estonia. I was blessed to hear two spectacular choral concerts during my visit to Stockholm. One was by a visiting chamber choir from the city of Lunds in southern Sweden. It featured the music of one of Sweden’s leading composers, the 69-year-old Sven-David Sandström, who was present to hear the performance. It was at that show that I was introduced to this setting of Psalm 139. Although Sandström has written plenty of orchestral music, including several well-received concertos, he has had particular success with his choral music. One of his breakthroughs was High Mass, premiered in 1994, which is modeled after J. S. Bach’s Mass in b minor. That led to an affinity for the music of the old masters, especially Bach. Since then he has composed a Christmas Oratorio, a Magnificat, a Messiah (using the exact same text as Handel’s original), and settings of the same six motets so famously penned by Bach (Singet dem Herrn, Lobet den Herrn, etc.). Starting in 2008, he undertook the task of composing an entire cycle of 65 cantatas covering every Sunday and feast day in the church calendar.
Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck lived his entire life in Amsterdam, working in one job from the age of 15 until his death 44 years later, as organist at Oude Kerk. The relatively light duties allowed him time both to teach—his students became well-known organists throughout Germany—and to compose. In the course of his career Sweelinck set music to the liturgies of Roman Catholicism, Calvinism, and Lutheranism and is considered the most important composer of the musically rich “golden era” of the Netherlands. His organ works are deemed the pinnacle of contrapuntal complexity prior to the refinements of Bach. His greatest legacy, however, may be the publication of an entire Psalter (settings of all 150 psalms), appearing in four large volumes between 1604 and 1621.
Dubbed a member of Les Six before he had even undertaken formal studies in composition, Francis Poulencbecame one of France’s leading composers of the mid-20th century. In 1935, after the death of a dear friend in a car accident, he returned to the Roman Catholic faith of his youth. From then on he produced a stream of sacred choral works both with orchestra (Gloria and Stabat Mater) and a capella (Mass in G) and several collections of motets. One of these, “Quatre motets pour un temps de pénitence,” starts with Timor et tremor. This Lenten motet, which combines various psalm verses, is an exquisite example of Poulenc’s style—almost entirely homophonic in short phrases, employing rich harmonies to great effect.
A child prodigy, Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy not only composed from an early age but went on to perform as a conductor and pianist. He was only 20 went he conducted the now-famous performance of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion that ushered in the modern appreciation of Bach’s music. The following year he was offered the chair of music at the University of Berlin, which he refused. Instead he traveled extensively, accepting invitations to participate in performances of his music throughout Europe. He finally settled in Leipzig in 1835, becoming the director of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. He also made frequent trips to Berlin, where he assisted the king with special musical events. In 1843 he was entrusted with the cathedral choir in Berlin, and it was for this group that he wrote several psalm settings in the a cappella style of the early Italian masters.
J. S. Bach’s Lobet den Herrn is unique among his six motets—it has only one movement and does not include a chorale. It was the last to be published and it is not known for which occasion it was written. For all of these reasons there is speculation that it was the first to be composed. Nonetheless it displays his mastery of counterpoint in the fugal sections. The work is quite spirited throughout and concludes with an exuberant Alleluia.
The Divine Liturgy of the Russian Orthodox Church includes the singing of many psalms during the course of the service. With so many Russian psalm settings to choose from, one could make an entire concert from them. But tonight we’ll offer just two, by wonderful composers who may be less familiar to Western audiences not steeped in the Orthodox tradition.
Although born in the Ukraine, Dmitry Bortniansky spent most of his life in the service of the Russian Imperial Court Chapel. After studying in Venice, he returned to write operas in French and Italian as well as symphonies, chamber music, and art songs. Like many of his Western-trained colleagues, he brought techniques and stylistic features of the Italian concerto to the sacred music he composed for the Russian court, which by tradition is without instrumental accompaniment. He is credited with bringing the choral concerto—the musical centerpiece of the Russian Orthodox service—to its highest form.
Another of my favorite Russian composers, from a much later period, is Pavel Chesnokov. He is the most prolific composer associated with the Moscow Synodal School of the early 20th century, having written over 500 choral works. These include three complete settings of the Divine Liturgy and two complete settings of the All-Night Vigil. Blogoslovi, dushe moya, Ghospoda (Bless the Lord, O my soul) is the opening psalm in the vespers portion of the All-Night Vigil. The melody used by Chesnokov is the Russian “Greek” chant most often employed for this psalm. The chant runs throughout in the soprano part as a cantus firmus, with Chesnokov’s beautiful harmonies supplied by the other voices.
Next we’ll sing works by three contemporary Americans. Bobby McFerrin is perhaps best known for the hit pop song Don’t Worry, Be Happy. But the talents of this iconoclastic musician stretch into the worlds of jazz, gospel, classical, and more. In 1990 he released the album Medicine Music, on which most of the songs feature his voice overdubbing all the parts. The final track is his take on the 23rd Psalm. As a tribute to his mother, McFerrin recasts the familiar text with feminine images. The musical form is Anglican chant, a way to present psalmody employing a repeated progression of 10 chords. The published version faithfully recreates the exact rhythms of McFerrin’s performance on the album.
Bay Area resident Frank La Rocca is chair of the Music Department at Cal State East Bay, as well as Artistic Director of Composers, Inc. The recipient of many awards and commissions, La Rocca received his undergraduate degree at Yale and advanced degrees at UC Berkeley, graduating with a PhD in Music in 1981. Expectavi Dominum, setting several verses from Psalm 40, was composed in honor of Dr. David Stein upon his retirement as Director of Choral Activities at Cal State East Bay in 2001.
In addition to my work with Bay Choral Guild, I, Sanford Dole, have long been the Music Director at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco (19 years and counting!). When hired I was specifically asked to create new liturgical music, and over the years I’ve composed several congregational pieces as well anthems for the choir. Bless us, Lord, with Your Peace was inspired by another setting of Psalm 67 that I was removing from the choir folders one day in 2006. But for the text I decided to use Stephen Mitchell’s modern adaptation from the Hebrew, which gives a contemporary spin to the ancient song.
Finally, we’ll sew up our musical quilt with a return to the Renaissance era in Italy. Salamone Rossi was born into a Jewish family in Mantua. The late 16th century was an interesting time, as many Jewish communities began to abandon their centuries-old state of isolation and started intermingling with their Christian neighbors. Rossi grew up in this era of synthesis between his ancestral Hebraic culture and that of the secular environment. In this milieu he spent most of his adulthood working as a singer, violinist, and composer at the court of Mantua. Although he wrote instrumental music popular with the court, affording him special dispensation from wearing the yellow “badge of shame” that all Jews were required to wear, he was never totally assimilated into the Christian community. What makes him unique as a composer is that rather than compose Latin motets for the church, he wrote Hebrew motets for the synagogue. As there was no precedent for polyphonic settings of the synagogue liturgy, Rossi was free to borrow from a variety of styles. Although Rossi did not attempt to employ any of the musical characteristics of the ancient Jewish chants, he did feel bound to certain traditions, such as the rabbinic prohibition against instrumental music in the synagogue. Therefore, his collection of 33 psalm settings, published in 1623, is entirely for unaccompanied chorus.
We’ll conclude our program with one of my favorite motets by the great organist at St. Mark’s in Venice, Giovanni Gabrieli. He is most famous for his frequent use of cori spezzati (divided choirs) in the grand motets he composed for the major Venetian state festivals. This was made possible by the unique layout of the Basilica on the Grand Canal—two choir lofts facing each other—and acoustics that allowed for clarity of all the parts even at a distance. While Jubilate Deo is for one choir in eight parts, one can easily imagine the effect of multiple choirs in that space as the texture often divides, with half of the group echoing or mirroring the other half.
We’ll begin with one of the greatest flowerings of sacred choral music, England in the 16th and 17th centuries. Of course, an entire program of psalm settings by English composers could be very satisfying. But for this survey I have chosen to feature just three of my favorites. As a boy, Henry Purcell was a chorister in the Chapel Royal. After his voice broke at an unusually early age, he went to work at Westminster Abbey tuning the organ and copying music, eventually becoming the organist. This was during the reign of Charles II, for whom he wrote “welcome songs” and participated in the Chapel Royal as organist and singer. His court appointments were renewed after the ascension of James II. It was for the coronation of the new king, in 1685, that he composed I was glad.
One hundred years earlier William Byrd was also employed in the Chapel Royal, during the reign of Elizabeth I. Although a Roman Catholic himself, he was able to keep this fact hidden as he worked in the Anglican Church, even securing the exclusive rights, along with Thomas Tallis, to publish music. Although he wrote many Latin motets for the Catholic liturgy, he may be best known for his part-songs in English, both sacred and secular.
Orlando Gibbons got his start in the choir of Kings College, Cambridge. After moving to London he, too, became a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal in the Court of James I and later became the organist of Westminster Abbey. The eight-part anthem O clap your hands is an example of his penchant for treating traditional texts with great expressivity on a grand scale.
On my trip to Europe last Fall I made a point of visiting Scandinavia. It was my first time in this part of the world, and I enjoyed touring the beautiful cities of Copenhagen and Stockholm. My goal, however, was to listen to choirs in this region, which has a rich choral tradition. In fact, a lot of incredibly beautiful choral music is being created by composers in the Scandinavian countries, as well as in Estonia. I was blessed to hear two spectacular choral concerts during my visit to Stockholm. One was by a visiting chamber choir from the city of Lunds in southern Sweden. It featured the music of one of Sweden’s leading composers, the 69-year-old Sven-David Sandström, who was present to hear the performance. It was at that show that I was introduced to this setting of Psalm 139. Although Sandström has written plenty of orchestral music, including several well-received concertos, he has had particular success with his choral music. One of his breakthroughs was High Mass, premiered in 1994, which is modeled after J. S. Bach’s Mass in b minor. That led to an affinity for the music of the old masters, especially Bach. Since then he has composed a Christmas Oratorio, a Magnificat, a Messiah (using the exact same text as Handel’s original), and settings of the same six motets so famously penned by Bach (Singet dem Herrn, Lobet den Herrn, etc.). Starting in 2008, he undertook the task of composing an entire cycle of 65 cantatas covering every Sunday and feast day in the church calendar.
Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck lived his entire life in Amsterdam, working in one job from the age of 15 until his death 44 years later, as organist at Oude Kerk. The relatively light duties allowed him time both to teach—his students became well-known organists throughout Germany—and to compose. In the course of his career Sweelinck set music to the liturgies of Roman Catholicism, Calvinism, and Lutheranism and is considered the most important composer of the musically rich “golden era” of the Netherlands. His organ works are deemed the pinnacle of contrapuntal complexity prior to the refinements of Bach. His greatest legacy, however, may be the publication of an entire Psalter (settings of all 150 psalms), appearing in four large volumes between 1604 and 1621.
Dubbed a member of Les Six before he had even undertaken formal studies in composition, Francis Poulencbecame one of France’s leading composers of the mid-20th century. In 1935, after the death of a dear friend in a car accident, he returned to the Roman Catholic faith of his youth. From then on he produced a stream of sacred choral works both with orchestra (Gloria and Stabat Mater) and a capella (Mass in G) and several collections of motets. One of these, “Quatre motets pour un temps de pénitence,” starts with Timor et tremor. This Lenten motet, which combines various psalm verses, is an exquisite example of Poulenc’s style—almost entirely homophonic in short phrases, employing rich harmonies to great effect.
A child prodigy, Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy not only composed from an early age but went on to perform as a conductor and pianist. He was only 20 went he conducted the now-famous performance of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion that ushered in the modern appreciation of Bach’s music. The following year he was offered the chair of music at the University of Berlin, which he refused. Instead he traveled extensively, accepting invitations to participate in performances of his music throughout Europe. He finally settled in Leipzig in 1835, becoming the director of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. He also made frequent trips to Berlin, where he assisted the king with special musical events. In 1843 he was entrusted with the cathedral choir in Berlin, and it was for this group that he wrote several psalm settings in the a cappella style of the early Italian masters.
J. S. Bach’s Lobet den Herrn is unique among his six motets—it has only one movement and does not include a chorale. It was the last to be published and it is not known for which occasion it was written. For all of these reasons there is speculation that it was the first to be composed. Nonetheless it displays his mastery of counterpoint in the fugal sections. The work is quite spirited throughout and concludes with an exuberant Alleluia.
The Divine Liturgy of the Russian Orthodox Church includes the singing of many psalms during the course of the service. With so many Russian psalm settings to choose from, one could make an entire concert from them. But tonight we’ll offer just two, by wonderful composers who may be less familiar to Western audiences not steeped in the Orthodox tradition.
Although born in the Ukraine, Dmitry Bortniansky spent most of his life in the service of the Russian Imperial Court Chapel. After studying in Venice, he returned to write operas in French and Italian as well as symphonies, chamber music, and art songs. Like many of his Western-trained colleagues, he brought techniques and stylistic features of the Italian concerto to the sacred music he composed for the Russian court, which by tradition is without instrumental accompaniment. He is credited with bringing the choral concerto—the musical centerpiece of the Russian Orthodox service—to its highest form.
Another of my favorite Russian composers, from a much later period, is Pavel Chesnokov. He is the most prolific composer associated with the Moscow Synodal School of the early 20th century, having written over 500 choral works. These include three complete settings of the Divine Liturgy and two complete settings of the All-Night Vigil. Blogoslovi, dushe moya, Ghospoda (Bless the Lord, O my soul) is the opening psalm in the vespers portion of the All-Night Vigil. The melody used by Chesnokov is the Russian “Greek” chant most often employed for this psalm. The chant runs throughout in the soprano part as a cantus firmus, with Chesnokov’s beautiful harmonies supplied by the other voices.
Next we’ll sing works by three contemporary Americans. Bobby McFerrin is perhaps best known for the hit pop song Don’t Worry, Be Happy. But the talents of this iconoclastic musician stretch into the worlds of jazz, gospel, classical, and more. In 1990 he released the album Medicine Music, on which most of the songs feature his voice overdubbing all the parts. The final track is his take on the 23rd Psalm. As a tribute to his mother, McFerrin recasts the familiar text with feminine images. The musical form is Anglican chant, a way to present psalmody employing a repeated progression of 10 chords. The published version faithfully recreates the exact rhythms of McFerrin’s performance on the album.
Bay Area resident Frank La Rocca is chair of the Music Department at Cal State East Bay, as well as Artistic Director of Composers, Inc. The recipient of many awards and commissions, La Rocca received his undergraduate degree at Yale and advanced degrees at UC Berkeley, graduating with a PhD in Music in 1981. Expectavi Dominum, setting several verses from Psalm 40, was composed in honor of Dr. David Stein upon his retirement as Director of Choral Activities at Cal State East Bay in 2001.
In addition to my work with Bay Choral Guild, I, Sanford Dole, have long been the Music Director at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco (19 years and counting!). When hired I was specifically asked to create new liturgical music, and over the years I’ve composed several congregational pieces as well anthems for the choir. Bless us, Lord, with Your Peace was inspired by another setting of Psalm 67 that I was removing from the choir folders one day in 2006. But for the text I decided to use Stephen Mitchell’s modern adaptation from the Hebrew, which gives a contemporary spin to the ancient song.
Finally, we’ll sew up our musical quilt with a return to the Renaissance era in Italy. Salamone Rossi was born into a Jewish family in Mantua. The late 16th century was an interesting time, as many Jewish communities began to abandon their centuries-old state of isolation and started intermingling with their Christian neighbors. Rossi grew up in this era of synthesis between his ancestral Hebraic culture and that of the secular environment. In this milieu he spent most of his adulthood working as a singer, violinist, and composer at the court of Mantua. Although he wrote instrumental music popular with the court, affording him special dispensation from wearing the yellow “badge of shame” that all Jews were required to wear, he was never totally assimilated into the Christian community. What makes him unique as a composer is that rather than compose Latin motets for the church, he wrote Hebrew motets for the synagogue. As there was no precedent for polyphonic settings of the synagogue liturgy, Rossi was free to borrow from a variety of styles. Although Rossi did not attempt to employ any of the musical characteristics of the ancient Jewish chants, he did feel bound to certain traditions, such as the rabbinic prohibition against instrumental music in the synagogue. Therefore, his collection of 33 psalm settings, published in 1623, is entirely for unaccompanied chorus.
We’ll conclude our program with one of my favorite motets by the great organist at St. Mark’s in Venice, Giovanni Gabrieli. He is most famous for his frequent use of cori spezzati (divided choirs) in the grand motets he composed for the major Venetian state festivals. This was made possible by the unique layout of the Basilica on the Grand Canal—two choir lofts facing each other—and acoustics that allowed for clarity of all the parts even at a distance. While Jubilate Deo is for one choir in eight parts, one can easily imagine the effect of multiple choirs in that space as the texture often divides, with half of the group echoing or mirroring the other half.