Duruflé Cum Jubilo

Another day has come, so it's back to M. Duruflé! Duruflé is, of course, best known for his choral works - particularly the popular Requiem and the motet Ubi caritas. 

The Requiem, Op.9 was modelled on Fauré's lovely Requiem and shares its intimate spirit, though it's more dramatic (at times) than the Fauré ever was. As in the organ works that preceded it, the piece demonstrates its composer's mastery of the art of making plainchant magical by couching it in a gentle impressionism. The work weaves the traditional Gregorian chants for the requiem into all its movements. The Introit is an especially bewitching example, with its flowing accompaniment (either by organ or orchestra, depending on the version you are hearing) and its melodic mixing of men's voices chanting and women's voices answering with lovely harmonies. The women sing the chant at "Te decet", accompanied by wafting chords, before the voices join together for an enhanced reprise. There's a magical harmonic movement on "luceat" to listen out for. Gentle polyphony enters with the peacefully radiant Kyrie. The Offertory: Domine Jesu Christe begins with the organ/orchestra's tritone-rich depiction of the 'deep pit' and the presentation of the movement's main plainchant melody, which the women take up. The harmonies, again, are gorgeous and the atmosphere gentle. A full choral outburst at "Libera eas" is complemented by a declamatory flourish from the organ/orchestra and, showing the composer's range again, proves that a Janacek-like fieriness (as in the great Glagolitic Mass) is also possible from Maurice Duruflé. Characteristically, however, the movement returns to gentle beauty (plainchant, women's voices) soon after. The baritone solo at "Hostias" is similarly intimate and may make you think of the sweeter side of Messiaen. Women's voices return at the close. The Sanctus weaves another accompaniment of gentle fluidity beneath its beguiling invocations for softly glowing women's voices. The "Hosanna" is a full blaze of confident choral majesty which, of course, ends quietly. The Pie Jesu is a plangent soprano solo, very 'innig' in character - as Schumann might have put it. It traces an emotionally expressive arch that eventually dies away movingly to some very beautiful harmonies. The Agnus Dei returns us to the spirit of the Introit and achieves a Fauréan purity of expression that is enrapturing. The melodic and harmonic beauty to be found in this section makes it particularly special. The Lux aeterna opens with another lovely plainchant-like tune from the organ/orchestra which is then shown to be derived from the actual plainchant that follows from the sopranos, warmly supported by wordless chorus - which is again gorgeous. The Libera me supplies darker, chromatic harmonies for the opening prayer for deliverance and its chant melodies. Duruflé delivers a dramatic surge at "judicare saeculum per ignam" which packs quite a punch. At "Tremens factus sum" an urgent baritone solo is introduced and the "Dies illa" is set in a declamatory style whilst also cleaving ingeniously to plainchant. The movement's closing section, however, restores intimacy and light. As with the Fauré, the final In Paradisum is tender, intimate and touching. It's as bewitching as the Introit, featuring a gorgeous opening melody, incense-bearing harmonies and lovely textures. The organ/orchestra supplies a second lovely tune as a counter-melody to the mixed choir's closing section and the work ends on an unresolved chord that evokes eternal bliss. 

Ubi caritas is one of the Quatre motets sur des thèmes grégoriens op.10 for a capella chorus. As you might guess from the title, this is another work based on Gregorian plainchant. By being unaccompanied, these short motets show the composer at his most restrained but are masterly and very attractive. The particular popularity of Uri caritas is not hard to explain. It's one of the gems of choral music, casting a sweet spell with its lovely melody, its tranquil mood and harmonies that mix the modal with the modern in that tasty way which French composers (also including Poulenc) pioneered but which now seems to have become the lingua franca of much contemporary church music in Europe and the U.S. What of its three companions? Well, Tota pulcra est is a lively number with a winning tune set against spry counter-melodies and bright climaxes with juicy clashing seconds. Tu es Petrus is very short but vibrant and surrounds the chant theme in imitative counterpoint. Finally, the beautiful Tantum ergo strikes an quiet note and seems to evoke the polyphony of the age of Palestrina.

Far less well known than either the Requiem or the Four Motets is the Messe Cum Jubilo op.11 which was composed as a celebratory counterpart to the Requiem - not that you would necessary guess that given the music's general sobriety. Its scoring is for male chorus (baritones!) with either organ or orchestral accompaniment (again depending on the version you are listening to). Why is it less often performed? Well, mainly because it fails to achieve the memorability of the Requiem. Still, there's plenty going for it. The opening Kyrie has much that we want from a Duruflé work, with its restrained yet always engaging mood, fluid accompaniment and flexible plainchant-inspired melodies. The Gloria shows that dramatic side of Duruflé's art again, though it remains generally gentle, and brings the qualities of the baritone voice to the fore. The Sanctus is surprisingly dark and inward-sounding, with its funereal tread and quietly dissonant accompaniment. The Benedictus for the solo baritone has a Messiaen-like quality in its harmonies (due to Duruflé's use of Messiaen's beloved octatonic scale) and floats like exquisite incense. The wonderful introductory bars of the Agnus Dei are the nearest the composer got to sounding like Jehan Alain. The Messe Cum Jubilo is never going to rival the Requiem in popularity (and don't deserve to) but it merits much more exposure than it currently receives.

There's just one more choral work by Duruflé to consider, Notre Père op.14. This is a sweet and simple piece for unison chorus and organ, setting the Lord's Prayer. Though its idiom doesn't seem quite so individual, its sheer loveliness more than makes up for that! With a lot of Classic FM exposure, it could become quite a favourite.

OK, that's the organ works and choral works. Only the chamber and orchestral works to go - and there aren't many of them! They will do for another another day though.

Duruflé's organ works (you'll be pleased to know)

Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986) is one of those composers who left us a small but perfectly-formed body of work. His music is a private passion of mine, which I'm now going to make public - starting with the organ works.

Duruflé was soaked in the French organ tradition. He was the assistant of Charles Tournemire, the organ-composer who succeeded another great organ-composer, César Franck, as the organist at St. Clothilde, Paris. Another of the great organ-composers, Louis Vierne, became his mentor. Their influence on his own work is audible, as is that of his composition teacher, Paul Dukas - in whose class also sat one Olivier Messiaen. Duruflé also adored the music of Debussy and Ravel and their influence is strongly reflected in other aspects of his work. All these composers share a peculiarly French-sounding ear for harmony - sensually-appealing harmonies that, when combined with the spirit of plainchant, float mystically like incense over candlelight. Duruflé was a master of such harmonies. He took their discoveries, especially the rich, impressionist harmonies of Debussy and Ravel (including the whole tone scale and the octatonic scale - that favourite of Messiaen's), and fused them with the old church modes of his beloved plainchant. The richness that results can be heard from his earliest works - a richness made all the more potent by a certain (very French) restraint which which it is usually wielded.

Like Dukas, Duruflé was fond of using Classical forms. His first organ piece is the captivating Scherzo, Op.2. This uses rondo form, but into its perfectly-balanced structure Duruflé pours a heady brew of tunes and harmonies which he surrounds in lively figuration that flickers like myriad tiny flames. 

His next organ work, the Prélude, Adagio et Choral Varié, op. 4, is based on the old plainchant melody Veni Creator. The Prélude  has the feel of an improvisation and its quiet, floating, flickering atmosphere is quite magical. The Adagio carries us into darker shades of feeling (and more chromatic kinds of harmony) as it meditates on the ancient melody and reaches a unexpectedly exciting, powerful and Romantic climax - thus showing the range of Duruflé. Out of this (beautiful) slough of despond, the Choral Varié (a theme followed four variations) emerge in radiant confidence like the coming of the Creator Spirit. 

The opening Prelude of the superb Suite, Op.5 begins with something of the inward-looking, oppressed spirit of Dukas's great and ridiculously neglected Piano Sonata. Its gloomy but deeply beautiful main melody suggests again the inspiration of plainchant. The movement is a classic journey from darkness to light and a magnificent piece of music, conjuring up a louring sense of the ominous before dispelling it with a blaze of C major, brighter registers, perfumed harmonies and warm recitative-like melodic writing. The central movement of the Suite, Sicilienne, follows in a fine tradition of French siciliennes and shares the soft-spoken elegance of Fauré's enchanting example, though the influence of Ravel is the one that's easiest to hear. This lovely movement takes the classic form of a rondo with two contrasting episodes. The concluding Toccata follows in another fine French tradition (cf Widor!). It's an improvisatory-sounding maelstrom requiring extreme virtuosity from the performer. It strikes an heroic note that might not seem typical of this composer, but (Duruflé's own doubts about this movement not withstanding) its harmonic flavours are just what we Duruflé-enthusiasts relish. 

The elegaic Prélude et Fugue sur le nom d'Alain, Op.7 is another masterpiece. Playing around with the name of the recently slain composer, Jehan Alain (subject of this blog's first post - and another of the great French organ-composers), Duruflé creates a set of notes (ADAAF) which he uses to fashion the magical scherzo which comprises his Prélude. Interrupting its flickering yet progress appears a phrase from Alain's own masterpiece for organ Litanies. The Fugue is a work of contrapuntal genius powered by strong rhythms. At its luminous climax the music of the Prélude returns and joins with the fugue themes to bring the work to a mighty close.

As well as these four major pieces, there are a smattering of other organ pieces to enjoy. There's the Fugue sur le Thème du Carillon des Heures, op. 12 which makes a fugue from the eight notes of the chimes of Soissons Cathedral and shows Duruflé in Bachian mood. There's also the Prélude sur l'Introit de l'Epiphanie, Op.13, another plainchant-inspired miniature (Ecce advenit dominator Dominus), full of warmth and beguiling harmonies. There's also a lovely late Méditation which only became known in 2002. 

There's more to Duruflé than organ works, of course. There are choral works - including his famous Requiem and Ubi caritas - plus a chamber work and a piece for orchestra. These, however, will do for another day.