Showing posts with label Schütz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schütz. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Let your ears be attentive



De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine;
Domine, exaudi vocem meam. Fiant aures tuæ intendentes
In vocem deprecationis meæ.
Si iniquitates observaveris, Domine, Domine, quis sustinebit?
Quia apud te propitiatio est; et propter legem tuam sustinui te, Domine.
Sustinuit anima mea in verbo ejus:
Speravit anima mea in Domino.
A custodia matutina usque ad noctem, speret Israël in Domino.
Quia apud Dominum misericordia, et copiosa apud eum redemptio.
Et ipse redimet Israël ex omnibus iniquitatibus ejus.

From the depths, I have cried out to you, O Lord;
Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplication.
If you, Lord, were to mark iniquities, who, O Lord, shall stand?
For with you is forgiveness; and because of your law, I stood by you, Lord.
My soul has stood by his word.
My soul has hoped in the Lord.
From the morning watch, even until night, let Israel hope in the Lord.
For with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption. 
And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

The penitential words of Psalm 130 have struck a chord with many composers over the centuries. Over the coming days I will introduce you to some of the finest settings. This post will introduce some of the best Renaissance settings...

...beginning with two absolute beauties from Josquin des Prez


Josquin set the psalm twice. The De Profundis a 4 (above) is set on the medieval modal scale beginning on E known as the Phrygian, which can be played on the piano using only the white notes (E F G A B C D E). The unusual feature of this is that, unlike with our modern major and minor keys, there is a semitone at the start of the scale (a 'flattened second'). This gives it a more mysterious quality. No other mode (except for the unused Locrian mode beginning on B) has such an opening interval. The scale is also much closer to our modern E minor than it is to our modern E major, so it sounds like a darker version of E minor. The piece falls into two main sections, breaking between  "Domino" and "A custodia matutina. Otherwise, as so much of the music of Josquin's phase of the Renaissance does, the piece generally flows seamlessly without breaks at cadences, one phrase flowing into the next. Texturally, the piece moves between having all four voices sounding together or having them pair off (the higher ones tending to stick together, and likewise the lower ones). 

Josquin's De Profundis a 5 is, I think, even more beautiful. Three of the five voices - the Superius (soprano), Primus Contratenor (first alto) and Tenor (tenor!) - are joined in canon. The Superius leads, the Tenor follows at the unison two bars later, and the Primus Contratenor joins in a fourth below. Can you hear this? Yes, but you will have to concentrate! The serenity of this setting makes it very special.




Moving on a century, the De Profundis by the Spanish-born master of Portuguese late Renaissance polyphony Estêvão Lopes Morago begins with the same melodic phrase which opened Josquin's first setting. However, as you will soon hear, his music conveys a much greater sense of anguish than Josquin's because of the composer's remarkable use of dissonance. There is a major-tinted tonal brightening at "exaudi vocem meam", reflecting the hope contained in the words.

Another masterpiece of Renaissance polyphony, written roughly half way between Josquin and Morago and worthy to stand alongside the two pieces by Josquin, is the beautiful De Profundis of Orlande de Lassus, one of his Penitential Psalms. (Go to 38.53 on the link). Unlike the Josquin pieces, Lassus's setting is easier to follow as he breaks up the seamless flow found in the older composer's polyphony and replaces it with music that takes each phrase of the text and treats it almost as a separate entity, with a clear cadence at the end of each sentence. The music regularly seems to pause for reflection. There is also less of the pervasive imitative writing found in the Josquin (though there are canons buried in the texture), with a greater sense of variety as regards style. 




Instruments began playing an increasing roll in late Renaissance choral music, readying themselves for the Baroque. Leading the way in this regard was Andrea Gabrieli (Giovanni's uncle). Gabrieli's 6-part De Profundis (above) was almost certainly meant for a mix of voices and instruments, all the better to ring out across the wide spaces of St. Mark's Cathedral, Venice. Please listen out for the upward leap of an octave in four of the six voices near the very beginning of the piece, painting the word "clamavi".

Gabrieli's Dutch contemporary, our old friend Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck, wrote a particularly lovely 5-part setting of De Profundis, without instruments. The textures, however, are richly sonorous. The piece includes imitative and homophonic passages and is as sensitive to the meaning of the text as Lassus's. Its effect is direct.

As Sweelinck was seemingly a Protestant (probably a Calvinist), this might be the time to introduce Martin Luther's paraphrase of Psalm 130, Aus der Tiefe ruf ich, Herr, zu dir. There is an exceptionally fine setting of his words by the great Heinrich SchützHis Aus der Tiefe, SWV25 comes from that early period of his music when the influence of his teacher, Giovanni Gabrieli, was making itself manifest. (You can follow the text here). Even more clearly than with Lassus, here each phrase of the setting is marked out as an individual event, making its sense ring directly in the ears and the imagination of each listener. As an example of word-painting, listen out for the way the word harre ("wait") is set at "Ich harre des Herren". As ever, Schütz's choral textures regularly change colour and the predominantly chordal music also admits touches of polyphony. It is a fabulous piece.

With Schütz we have entered the world of the Baroque. The Baroque Age saw a great surge in settings of the psalm...about which more in the not too distant future. 

Sunday, 8 January 2012

Beyond the Canon



Johann Pachelbel (1653-1709) has long been seen as a one-hit wonder, with his Canon becoming one of the best-known works of Baroque music. Things appear to be changing with recordings of his other works growing apace, including his choral pieces. 

One such work particularly caught my attention a couple of years ago and could easily see Pachelbel becoming, at the very least, a two-hit wonder. It's his enjoyable setting of Psalm 100, Jauchzet dem Herrn (Make a joyful noise unto the Lord). The scoring is for double chorus (two each of soprano, alto, tenor and bass) and organ. The two choruses are sometimes used antiphonally to achieve the effect of splendour, as composers had been doing since the days of the Gabrielis, a century earlier. The very opening bars show Pachelbel sitting on the pivot, so to speak, between the age of the greatest master of the German early Baroque, Heinrich Schütz, and the greatest master of the German late Baroque, J.S. Bach - albeit, in the work as a whole, dangling his legs more often on Bach's side of the pivot!

At the very start, the altos, tenors and basses of Choir I sing the word 'Jauchzet' in a strictly rhythmic and syllabic pattern (four quavers followed by two crochets), which is very catchy, whilst the sopranos sing a joyful melisma on the first syllable of their second 'jauchzet'. The second choir joins them all in the second bar, adding a greater weight to this delightful expression of joy. When I first heard this I thought it sounded like Bach, and had to rack my poor brains to try and remember which particular piece I had in mind. It's his glorious motet Der Geist hilft unser Schwachheit, BWV226 (The Spirit helps us in our weakness), also for double chorus, specifically its opening bars. Back to the Pachelbel and if the first two bars look forward to Bach then the third and fourth bars, which end with the words "alle Welt" (all the earth), look back to the age of Schütz, with its antiphonal exchanges of short homophonic phrases. Schütz made his own setting of Jauchzet dem Herrn, and you can hear something of its soundworld (what can be called, using a broad brush-stroke, 'Monteverdi madrigals and polychoral Gabrieli meet a German sensibility') in Pachelbel's setting of the words "Erkennet, daß der Herre Gott ist" (Recognize that the Lord is God), 2.05 into the link provided. 


The German mid-Baroque is a fascinating period of music, full of little known but highly talented composers whose style is only a hybrid when heard through ears that are far more familiar with the distinctive styles of a great composer of one age, and quite familiar with the no-less-distinctive style of a great composer of another age (though many listeners might think of Monteverdi and Gabrieli without thinking of their great German contemporary, Schütz). Bach was taught by his brother, a pupil of Pachelbel (a close family friend of the older generations of Bachs), so something of Pachelbel's music certainly must have filtered through to Johann Sebastian. Wonder if he knew Jauchzet dem Herrn?

Incidentally, and going back to Mendelssohn, our Felix also made settings, a century and a half after Pachelbel and two centuries after Schütz, of the same psalm. There's his a cappella Wo028 setting, a simple piece, and the richer, more polyphonic setting that forms the central motet of his Op.69. Both project the spirit of old German chorales in some of their melodies and textures. They are not Mendelssohn's most distinguished choral pieces, but they are quite attractive and characteristic.

As I've linked to a lot of Jauchzet dem Herrns, it would perhaps be no bad thing for me to provide the text of the psalm:


Jauchzet dem Herrn
alle Welt.
Dienet dem Herrn mit Freuden.
Kommt vor sein Angesicht mit Frohlocken.
Erkennet, dass der Herre Gott ist.
Er hat uns gemacht, und nicht wir selbst,
zu seinem Volk
und zu Schafen seiner Weide.
Gehet zu seinen Toren ein mit Danken,
zu seinen Vorhöfen mit Loben.
Danket ihm, lobet seinen Namen,
denn der Herr ist freundlich
und seine Gnade währet ewig
und seine Wahrheit für und für.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord,
all the earth;
serve the Lord with joy.
Come before his visage with rejoicing.
Recognize that the Lord is God:
he made us—and not we ourselves—
to be his people
and to be sheep for his pasture.
Enter through his gates with thanks,
into his courts with praise.
Give him thanks and praise his name,
for the Lord is kind,
and his mercy endures forever,
and his truth for all time.


Rejoice!

Friday, 23 December 2011

Lift up your heads...


Jessica Duchen recently put in a plea for something other than Handel's Messiah at this time of year:

But just every so often, wouldn't you like to hear something else instead, or even as well? Leave aside obvious substitutes like Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols and much nice music by John Rutter; as for The Nutcracker or The Four Seasons – Tchaikovsky and Vivaldi are great, but enough’s enough.

(Amusingly, BBC Radio 3 is broadcasting Messiah tonight and broadcast Bach's Christmas Oratorio last night.)


I can't say that I mind one bit that Messiah, the Christmas Oratorio and the rest keep coming around almost with the regularity of Merry Xmas Everybody, Fairytale of New York or Lonely this Christmas, but I'm all for adding to the list of seasonal favourites. Jessica offered an intriguing list of substitutes that have been "shouldered aside by wall-to-wall Hallelujah Choruses" and inspired me to add a few suggestions of my own:  

Elizabethan composer William Byrd's Christmas motet is one of his loveliest pieces. There are many magical moments, including the lovely harmonic modulations during the fourths-based sequences at "et animalia", the attractive overlapping phrases at "Beata virgo" and the enchanting rising-scale figures at the setting of "Ave Maria". Byrd repeats the "Beats virgo" section at the end. 

From 17th Century Germany, Heinrich Schutz's style can be described (with the broadest of brush strokes) as half way between Monteverdi and Bach and his telling of the Christmas story is very special. Between its introductory and closing choruses come eight set piece 'interludes', connected by recitative from the tenor narrator. The Angel (sung by a soprano) has three movements accompanied by a pair of violas, the High Priests are accompanied by dark-sounding sackbutts  and the Shepherds are accompanied by recorders and a dulcian (an instrument that sounds like a bassoon), the latter also accompanying the Wise Men, along with violins, where its tread surely suggests camels! Herod (a bass) is accompanied by cornets. Particularly beautiful is the seventh interlude, 'Stehe auf Joseph' (for the Angel).

The 'pastoral symphonies' of Bach and Handel were just one of what seem like a multitude of such pieces, cropping up all over the later Baroque. I was going to choose Corelli's Christmas Concerto but, as that gem gets many airings, I thought I'd go for Torelli's less played Christmas Concerto instead. Lots of gorgeous string writing, lovely harmonic suspensions in the opening sections, pastoral drones beneath dancing tunes, arioso-like solo violin writing in the central slow section, plus echo effects in the finale - all good fun. Oh, what the heck, here's a link to the delicious Corelli concerto too!


Peter Cornelius, friend of Wagner and Liszt, wrote these six songs (most of which are scattered across YouTube) in 1856 and they have a charming homely quality that suits the season to a tee, with warm tunes and pleasing harmonies. I hear very little Wagner or Liszt in these songs but quite a bit of Schumann. One of the songs (which are for voice and piano), The Three Kings, became his best known piece when recast as a choral miniature. Especially winning are Die Hirten (the Shepherds) and Christkind.

A score drawn from a Gogol-based opera by a master of orchestral fantasy, this suite begins with an enchanting vision of Christmas Night, with sparkling snow and magical starlight. 

...about which I will have more to say in the future!

Fear not, said he, for this is a purely tonal arrangement of  the old German carol "Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen" for chamber ensemble that will warm the cockles of your heart like mulled wine. A second carol makes an appearance later in the piece but you'll have to listen to find out which one! The opening will (hopefully) immediately capture your heart and, though Schoenberg cannot resist the lure of intricate counterpoint later, his traditionalist impulses are lovingly revealed in this little unexpected gem.


It may be a work of youthful ingenuity (weaving a set of variations on the first four notes of the piece - a rising second followed by rising third followed by a falling third), but it easy-to-listen-to and a delight. There's the spiky rhythms of 'Herod', the rapturous ever-expanding melismas on the word 'Jesu' of the beautiful third variation and a hypnotic setting of 'In the Bleak Mid-Winter' that isn't to the famous tune by Holst!

Jessica Duchen chose the glorious Vingt Regards (for piano) for her wish-list. As I always loved this set of nine pieces for organ - and it's Messiaen's other big Christmas classic! - I would choose to add this to her list. Beginning with the glowing serenity of the opening vision of the Virgin and Child, contrasted with the joy of Mary at its heart, and the piping shepherds who then burst out dancing with delight, this is a work well worth a yearly airing (or two). 

As well as his familiar Fantasia on Christmas Carols, RVW wrote this unfamiliar large-scale Christmas cantata. It's not always very subtle (especially the 'March of the Three Kings') but it certainly is enjoyable. Much of its music is the composer at his most unbuttoned, banging out catchy tunes with thumping rhythms and primary-colours orchestration. There's plenty of jubilation, beginning with the Prologue with its hearty cries of 'Nowell!', as well as passages of grandeur, but there are also serene sections, such as the lovely unaccompanied (and very Anglican-sounding) 'The blessed Son of God' and the beautiful pastoral setting for baritone of Thomas Hardy's great poem The Oxen. 


Merry Christmas to you all!!