Program Notes
Introduction
A metaphor from one of the fifteen songs of this concert is strong
enough to apply to all of them, and to all of us here in this beautiful
sanctuary: musicians, singers and audience – “The Holy Spirit is our
harpist.”
These words of the German mystic, Mechtild of Magdeburg, show she
recognized that human music flows from God’s love. God touches us,
and like the strings of a harp, we respond. And while musicians “make”
music, it reverberates in us, the audience. We are all worshippers
here, participating in a service, in a human response of gratitude and
wonder to a power that is greater than we are. And we can’t forget that
before, during, and after this concert, the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual
Adoration and their Associates are carrying on their ministry of prayer,
24/7, in the chapel located behind the high altar.
As St. Francis reminded us in his most famous prayer, which we will hear
in a contemporary (2011!) setting in the second half of this concert, we
can all be “instruments of God’s peace.”
“Adinu” arranged by Shireen Abu-Khader and André de Quadros
(refrain/solo) I follow the religion of love,
Wherever love is found,
For love is my religion and my faith.
(solo) Holy, holy, holy,
You are the Lord God;
Heaven and earth are full of Your great glory. (Isaiah 6:3)
(solo) Almighty God of great dignity,
Our Creator, I ask you to be merciful to all.
I come to You, the revealer of all obstacles
Hoping for Your approval, as I have none but You.
The author of the opening section of this choral song was a Sufi mystic
and scholar named Muhammad Ibn ‘Arabi. He was born in Spain in
1165; he died in Damascus in 1240. It’s not too far-fetched to imagine
him crossing paths with Francis of Assisi, Italy! St. Francis lived from
1182 to 1226. (And it is a fact that Francis traveled to Egypt in order to
have an audience with the Sultan – during a truce in a battle of the Fifth
Crusade in 1219.)
“Adinu” is in the spirit of St. Francis – the spirit of peaceful ecumenism
which searches for and celebrates what religions have in common, not
what separates them. The work takes its name from the first section.
Here, in words which sound like they were written by “Flower Children”
in San Francisco in the 1960s, we have a declaration that is both human
and holy. Its melody derives from an ancient Sufi tune.
The words of the second section will be immediately recognized. We’ve
sung them and/or heard them countless times. The verse from Isaiah 6:3
is the “Sanctus” of the Latin liturgy, as well as the source of the “Holy,
Holy, Holy” of other liturgies and hymns. The melody for this section
is from a Maronite Christian hymn. If it “sounds” Arabian that’s only
natural, for the language of the Maronites is not Greek or Latin but a
Syrian dialect of Arabic.
The third section – the one that begins, “Almighty God, of great dignity,”
is an example of the many prayers from the Muslim tradition of praying
to God five times a day.
We owe “Adinu” to the collaboration of two American-educated Muslim
musicians: Shireen Abu-Khader and André de Quadros. Their hope
for this piece is that it might be “a powerful symbol of inter-religious
harmony,” a harmony that is greatly needed in our fragmented world, as
the recent terrorist attack in Paris tragically reminded us.
“Magnificat” by William Walton
My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden.
For behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath magnified me, and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him throughout all generations.
He hath showed strength with his arm;
He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat,
and hath exalted the humble and meek.
He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He rememb’ring his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel,
as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost;
as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
– Luke 1:46-55
The singers already know this, but if you listen closely to the second
clause of the fourth sentence, “and holy is his name,” you will hear the
word “holy” sung three times. This musical way of emphasizing the
Trinity gives us a Ter Sanctus just as in the preceding work, “Adinu.”
William Walton (who became Sir William in 1951, at the age of 49)
wrote this “Magnificat” in 1974 for the 900th anniversary of the
Chichester Cathedral. He was approaching the end of his long musical
life, a life which he began as a choir boy in an Oxford University boys’
choir at the age of 10. After six years with this choir, which was also a
school, he entered the University at the very young age of 16.
Walton is by nature and education squarely in the English tradition. He
became something like the “Musician Laureate” of England, writing
coronation anthems for King George VI in 1937 and for Queen Elizabeth
in 1952. He composed scores for the Laurence Olivier movies of
Shakespeare’s Henry V, Hamlet, and As You Like It. His one full-length
opera is based on Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida. He may not be a
household word in America (except in the houses of choir conductors
like Paul Rusterholz and Patrick O’Shea, and no doubt of others present
here), but his works are important enough to have all been recorded in
our day. There is a website devoted to him which contains a listing of
current performances of his works.
So, sit back and enjoy the “Englishness” of this setting of the Song of
Mary. The text is that of the time-honored Book of Common Prayer,
whose stately language predates Shakespeare by two generations.
Remember that the concluding doxology, the “Glory Be” part, is not
found in Luke chapter one. But it is an ancient part of the “Singing
Tradition” of Biblical texts, a tradition which began in the monasteries
of Latin Europe and which continues in our day in countless modern
languages.
“Nocte Fletuum Angelis” by Patrick O’Shea
Nocte fletuum angelis. Mundi frangitur. Vocis voces in caelis Clamant lucem extinguitur.
Night of weeping angels.
The world is shattered.
Voices resound in the heavens,
Crying out that the light is extinguished.
And then there are times when God touches us with tragedy, and the
artistic impulse in us seeks to respond … somehow … some way.
When the news of the tragic killing of twenty school children and six
adults at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut
became all too terribly known on the night of December 12, 2012,
Patrick M. O’Shea responded by writing a poem in Latin and then by
setting it to music. In the published sheet music, Professor O’Shea
dedicates his work to the twenty-six victims, using a Latin phrase from
the Requiem Mass for the dead: In paradisum deducant angeli – “May
the angels lead you into Paradise.”
This touching piece places Professor O’Shea in a tradition which
stretches back to the ancient Latin mass. And then, look, he is creatively
responding to an unspeakable current event. The use of Latin helps, I
think, to mitigate the horror of the tragedy which could so easily render
one speechless. The Latin also reminds us of our human need of ritual
when dealing with death.
So read the poem, noting its structure and rhymes. And then hear, “in
your mind’s ear,” the consoling words from the Requiem Mass which
immediately follow “May the angels lead you into Paradise”: May the
martyrs come to welcome you and take you to the holy city, the new and
eternal Jerusalem. May choirs of angels welcome you and lead you to
the bosom of Abraham, and where Lazarus is poor no longer may you
find eternal rest.
Patrick M. O’Shea is a tenured professor at St. Mary’s University
in Winona where he teaches Music History, Vocal Literature, Vocal
Pedagogy and Conducting and gives voice lessons, conducts the
University Concert Choir and Chamber Singers – and somehow finds
time to come to La Crosse on Tuesday evenings (and concert weekends)
to sing with, and sometimes assistant-conduct, the Chamber Chorale.
You can learn more about this versatile Irish-American and about the
other ways God has touched him with music at www.poshea.com.
“Pietà” by Reed Criddle
La Pietà vaticana, to give the full name of Michelangelo’s iconic
sculpture of the lifeless body of Jesus being cradled in Mary’s lap, is a
supreme example of art transforming tragedy into beauty. For in that
sculpture in St. Peter’s basilica in Rome, Mary is a beautiful woman. She
is weeping, yet tears are almost impossible to capture in marble.
Professor Criddle’s own program note expresses his approach to the
deep pathos of the scene in this way: “Although the portrayal of Mary
with her son is outwardly peaceful, one also senses a great interior
anguish. I have tried to express this by the violin and the wordless
chorus. The music is at times serene, at times outraged, with the
mood of the chorus both echoing and pacifying Mary’s grief.” To
repeat for emphasis: this is a choral “song without words.” Professor
Criddle further explains its mood by writing, “Musically, the choice of
the Middle Eastern mode reflects Mary’s heritage and captures the
simultaneously sweet and bitter emotions of the Mother of Christ.”
Writing about himself, Professor Criddle states that he is “committed
to choral arts in the community.” He directs the Wasatch Chorale, Utah
County’s premier civic chorus, while maintaining a full schedule of choir
conducting and teaching at Utah’s largest public university, Utah Valley
in the city of Oren.
“I heard a voice from heaven,” the 6th and last section of Herbert
Howells’ Requiem
I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me,
“Write, from henceforth blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.
Even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours.”
– Revelation 14:13
Touched by the deeply personal loss of his only son to polio at the age
of nine, Herbert Howells responded by completing a choral Requiem in
six parts. The verse from Revelation 14:13, and from the Service of the
Burial of the Dead in the Book of Common Prayer, forms the conclusion
of this English Requiem. It is a poignant biographical fact that the
composer waited forty-five years, from 1935 to 1980, to make this work
public. In an autobiographical note, he referred to it as “a personal,
almost secret document.” At the same time, Howells’ biographers point
out that “much of his subsequent music shows the influence of this
loss.”
Herbert Howells was one of the grand old men of British music. His life
and career spanned from 1892 to 1983. While never knighted like Sir
William Walton, he was appointed a “Commander of the Most Excellent
Order of the British Empire” (CBE) by the very young Queen Elizabeth
in 1953. Ten years later, for the official memorial service for President
Kennedy in London, Howells wrote what has been called “a masterpiece
of Twentieth Century choral music.” It has the evocative title of “Take
Him, Earth, for Cherishing.”
“Have Ye Not Known” and “Ye Shall Have a Song,” two excerpts from
Randall Thompson’s The Peaceable Kingdom
Have Ye Not Known?
Have ye not known? Have ye not heard?
Hath it not been told you from the beginning?
Have ye not understood from the foundations of the earth?
– Isaiah 40:21
Ye Shall Have a Song
Ye shall have a song, as in the night when a holy solemnity is kept;
Ye shall have a song and gladness of heart,
as when one goeth with a pipe
to come into the mountain of the Lord.
– Isaiah 30:29
It’s a young America story; it’s an Old Testament prophetic vision; it’s a
universal hope of all time. That’s what “The Peaceable Kingdom” is.
The early American artist Edward Hicks (1780-1849), who was a Quaker,
was inspired by William Penn’s historic treaty with the Lenni Lenape
Indians, signed on the banks of the Delaware River in 1683. He was
inspired by the prophecy in Isaiah 11:6 of “the wolf dwelling with the
lamb, the leopard lying down with the kid, the calf and the young lion
resting together, and a little child shall lead them.” And he was inspired
to combine the Bible with Pennsylvania history in over one hundred
paintings of “The Peaceable Kingdom.” I think most of us know this
iconic image – reproduced in whole or in part in many forms, including
Christmas cards – with the tender, big-eyed wild and domestic animals
all grazing together in the foreground, while in the background William
Penn and his men are signing the peace treaty with the Indians, as the
gentle Delaware flows on.
In 1935, the young American composer Randall Thompson was
commissioned to write a work for the combined college choirs of the
all male Harvard and the all female Radcliffe. Thompson hit upon the
subject for this piece when he visited the Worcester, Massachusetts Art
Museum and became enchanted with its newly acquired painting of “The
Peaceable Kingdom.” After reading all sixty-six chapters of Isaiah and
carefully choosing which ones he would set to music, Thompson finished
his eight-part work for its premier in Boston in the spring of 1936.
The two excerpts sung by the Chamber Chorale are the final, climatic
sections. One can sense Thompson’s artistic pleasure here, especially in
the concluding verse, with its musical promise: “Ye shall have a song.”
“All Strings Touched in Love” by Stephen Paulus
Effortlessly, effortlessly,
Love flows from God into man,
Like a bird
Who rivers the air
Without moving her wings.
Thus we move in His world,
One in body and soul.
Though outwardly separate in form
As the Source strikes the note,
Humanity sings—
The Holy Spirit is our harpist,
And all strings
Which are touched in Love
Must sound!
– Mechtild of Magdeburg (1207?-1297?)
Stephen Paulus was a graduate school friend and a life-long colleague
of Conductor Paul Rusterholz. He wrote over 150 choral works – so
which one should be sung to honor the memory of this composer who
died in October 2014 at the relatively young age of 65? In its November
concerts, the Chamber Chorale sang Stephen Paulus’ well-known
“Pilgrim’s Hymn,” a work which was sung at the funerals of Presidents
Reagan and Ford. For this concert, we have the evocative “All Strings
Touched in Love.”
For a composer to set these particular words to music is both an
expected thing and a kind of mystery. The words seem to naturally call
out to be set to music. But how did Paulus discover them out of the
several hundred pages of the English edition of the writings of a German
Medieval mystic? (Compare Randall Thompson reading all sixty-six
chapters of Isaiah!)
Mechtild of Magdeburg (ca. 1207 to ca. 1297) was a member of the
lay religious order called the Beguines. She was sort of like what
an “Associate” of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration is.
Encouraged by her Father Confessor, she wrote down her mystical
visions in seven “books,” or chapters, of a work known as The Flowing
Light of the Godhead. This became a popular devotional book in its day.
Some scholars say it may have influenced Dante’s Divine Comedy.
As can be said of all the texts sung in this concert, be sure to read the
words. They are an example of how a woman theologian from over 700
years ago can continue to inspire us, like the life and words of St. Francis
can. (For an example of which, we have the next piece!)
“Preghiera Semplice” by A. Eric Heukeshoven
O Signore, fa’ de me uno strumento
della tua Pace. O Signore, dove è odio, fa’ ch’io porti l’Amore.
Dove è offesa, ch’io porti il Perdono. Dove è discordia, ch’io porti l’Unione.
Dove è dubbio, ch’io porti la Fede.
O Signore, dove è errore, ch’io porti la Verità.
Dove è disperazione, ch’io porti la Speranza. O Lord, make me an instrument
of your peace:
Where there is hatred,
let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is discord,
let me sow union.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is error,
let me bring truth.
Where there is despair,
hope.
Dove è tristezza, ch’io porti Gioia! Where there is sadness, joy.
Dove è sono le tenebre, Where there is darkness,
ch’io porti Luce. let me bring light.
O Maestro, fa ch’io non tanto: Esserre consolato, Quanto consolare. Esserre compreso, Quanto comprendere.
Esserre amato, quanto amare.
Poiché si è:
Dando, che si riceve; Perdonando, che si è perdonato.
O Signore, Morendo, che si risuscita a Vita Eterna. O Divine Master,
I do not so much seek:
To be consoled,
as to console.
To be understood,
as to understand.
To be loved, as to love.
Thus it is:
In giving that we receive;
In pardoning that we are pardoned;
O Lord,
in dying that we are born to
eternal life.
Even before his “Hymn to All Creation,” the best known work of
St. Francis is the famous prayer attributed to him which begins, “Lord,
make me an instrument of thy peace.” Here we have the Franciscan
spirit expressed in a pungent and memorable way. In the face of the
long list of negative things in the world, it reminds us to choose the
positive; to choose love, pardon, unity, faith, truth, hope, joy, and light.
In the “Me Generation” of both 13th century Florence and 21st century
La Crosse, choose the active side of consolation, of understanding, of
love.
The prayer concludes with what is actually a mini-sermon, spoken to
us humans and not to God. For God doesn’t need to be told that “It is
in giving that we receive, and in pardoning that we are pardoned.” But
note how Eric Heukeshoven interrupts the sermon by adding an “O
Lord” (O Signore) for the final statement about our last enemy and our
divine hope: “For it is in dying that we are raised to eternal life.”
Praise be (Laudato sia) to local musicians Eric Heukeshoven and Patrick
O’Shea for this work. It was commissioned for the Saint Mary’s
University Chamber Singers’ tour to Italy in 2011 – led, of course, by
Patrick, their conductor. Extra special praise (Laudato sia moltissime!),
to Eric for composing music to go with the original Italian – a sister
language which is “clear, lovely, precious and clean.”
“i thank You God” by Lloyd Pfautsch
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
And a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(I who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears are awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
– e.e. cummings (1894-1962)
At an impressionable age, e.e. cummings was introduced to the sonnets
of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882). And, as he said in one of his
wonderful “nonlectures” at Harvard in 1952, “That is the reason – or
more likely the unreason – why I’ve been writing sonnets ever since.”
Here then is a sonnet: fourteen well-crafted and accessible lines by a
poet whose words (and syntax) are usually all over the place, and whose
poems most often do not rhyme. This poem is a prayer to God. And note
how, for once, cummings uses upper-case letters for words that signify
the Deity!
Again, read the poem both before and during Lloyd Pfautsch’s setting
of it. You can even be a little critical of it, for the word “trees” does not
really rhyme with “yes.” And “no” doesn’t rhyme with “you,” nor does
“and” with “opened.” But don’t let criticism (or program notes!) get in
the way of enjoying it!
Rev. Dr. Lloyd Pfautsch (1921-2003) was a much beloved Professor of
Music at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. He was the composer
of over 300 works, almost all of which were for choirs. A great deal
could be said of his compositions and his character. But one story will
have to suffice: In his middle age, Prof. Pfautsch grew bald (as did e.e.
cummings, who once described himself as “the bad, bald poet”). When
a student discovered an old promo photo and cheerfully brought it to
class, the professor exclaimed, “Ah, there’s Hair Pfautsch!”
“I Saw a Stranger Yestere’en,” an old Gaelic poem, translated by
Kenneth Macleod, music by Jacob Avshalomov
I saw a stranger yestere’en.
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the list’ning place;
and in the sacred name of the Triune
He blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones.
And the lark said in her song,
often goes the Christ in the stranger’s guise.
“As the source strikes the note…” The Biblical source for this ancient
Gaelic poem from the northernmost part of Scotland is the oft-quoted
verse from the Epistle to the Hebrews: “Do not forget to show
hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels
unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2)
In the Gaelic version, the stranger signifies more than angels: the
stranger can be Christ himself. But the poem stretches the truth, and
so stretches theology, by imagining that this “lesson” is delivered in the
song of the female lark. This is a wonderful example of the mixing of
folklore – all those talking birds from all so many cultures – and practical
theology: the religious duty of hospitality.
Jacob Avshalomov was a composer and orchestra conductor in Portland,
Oregon for most of his career, a career which began with his birth in
China to a Russian musician father and an American mother. Among
his works is a symphony, “The Oregon,” commissioned for the state’s
centennial in 1959.
“Hush! Somebody’s Callin’ My Name,” Traditional Spiritual arranged by
Brazeal W. Dennard
Refrain: Hush, Hush, Somebody’s callin’ my name.
Oh my Lord, what shall I do?
I’m so glad that trouble don’t last always. (Refrain)
I’m so glad I got my ’ligion in time.
Hallelujah, Lord! (Refrain)
Soon one mornin’ death come creepin’ in my room. (Refrain)
“Soon Ah Will Be Done,” Traditional Spiritual arranged by William L.
Dawson
Refrain: Soon ah will be don’ a-with de troubles ob de worl’,
Goin’ home t’live with God.
I wan’ t’meet my mother, I’m goin t’live with God. (Refrain)
No more weepin an’ a wailin’. (Refrain)
I wan’ t’ meet my Jesus. I’m goin’ t’ live with God!
In de mornin’ Lord! I’m goin’ t’ live with God!
“Walk Together, Children,” Traditional Spiritual arranged by Moses Hogan
There’s a great camp meetin’.
Lawd, a great camp meetin’ in the promised lan’.
Oh, walk together, children, don’t you get weary,
Walk on, my children, don’t you get-a weary,
Just-a walk together, children, don’t you get weary,
There’s a great camp meetin’ in the promised lan’.
Gonna walk/sing/shout an’ never tire …
There’s a great camp meetin’ in the promised lan’.
On the wall in the breakfast nook of my trumpet-playing/music teacher/
band-director brother-in-law, Dr. Stephen Billington, is a photo of Louis
Armstrong. The caption under it reads, “All music is folk music. I ain’t
never heard no horse sing a song.”
Spirituals are folk music par excellence: personal, local – almost
private – tunes elevated to public performance. And what’s another
great thing about spirituals? Answer: they don’t need no program notes!
Program Notes by: Rev. Donald H. Fox who is the pastor of Lower
Coon Valley Lutheran Church in rural Stoddard and a chaplain at Mayo
Clinic Health System – Franciscan Healthcare in La Crosse and who is
still waiting to be discovered for his sui generis writings, the latest of
which is a one act, two scene educational musical comedy entitled “The
Gravediggers’ Guide to Shakespeare: a Prelude to a ‘Happy’ Hamlet.”
Upcoming Events
I HEAR A HARP!
Saturday, April 11, 2015 • 7:30 pm
Sunday, April 12, 2015 • 3:00 pm Featuring dancers from Ballet La Crosse First Congregational Church, UCC
2503 Main Street
La Crosse, Wisconsin
Sponsored by the Dr. David L. and Sacia B. Morris Family Foundation
THE MAY FEASTE: OVER THE RAINBOW
MUSIC FROM THE LAND OF OZ
Friday, May 15, 2015, 5:30 pm in Valhalla Hall, Cartwright, UW-La Crosse
Sponsored by Ann Brice and Bill Haviland in celebration of their 7th wedding anniversary
The May Feaste is a special event fundraising dinner. Advance reservations are required.
www.chamberchorale.org 608.780.6107 [email protected]