Author: Arlene Oost-Zinner

Russell Roan of Richardson, Texas, offers his review of the 20th Annual Renaissance Polyphony Weekend held recently at the University of Dallas:

To me, it was very edifying to be deep inside the music (and text) of these works. There is a basic level of appreciation of this kind of work, in which simply listening to the beauty of the setting can move the listener, who may not have any idea as to the text or intended purpose of the composition. The next level, I think, is if one has some basic familiarity with the text or at least the function of the text. So, the listener may know that he is hearing a Sanctus, for example, and know the text from the English translation of the mass parts. So knowing the general meaning and purpose of the text and hearing musical motifs that suggest certain emotions or moods may deepen the effect of the composition if the text and effect of the music are in harmony.

In this case, it was a rare opportunity to carry this level of appreciation to yet a deeper level, in spending long hours in rehearsing the music and learning the subtleties that might not have been discernible on a single hearing, even if there were basic familiarity with the text. It is especially true for someone who has some working knowledge of Latin, however limited. I was struck by the number of times I encountered a phrase of music that perfectly invoked the Latin text that was being sung at that moment. It was my unworthy privilege to be able to take the time to allow the music and text to swirl around together in my thoughts.

While the Monteverdi mass was quite beautiful and had some profound moments – among the most moving to me was the profound drop to whispered pianissimo at the words et homo factus est (and became man) in the Credo; followed immediately by music that suggested weeping in lamentation in the next line crucifixus etiam pro nobis (and also was crucified for us).

But for me, my favorite work that we did was the motet by Jacobus Gallus: Duo Seraphim Clamabant. The text is derived from Isaiah 6:2-3.

Duo seraphim clamabant, alter ad alterum, sanctus sanctus sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth, plena est omnis terra gloria eius.

(Two seraphim shouted, one to the other, Holy Holy Holy (is the) Lord God of Hosts, all the earth is full of His glory.)

This is the textual foundation for the Sanctus in the liturgy – modified to pleni sunt caeli et terra gloria tua.

A more literal take on clamabant would be “were shouting” – imperfect tense – incomplete, ongoing, eternal – outside the bounds of time, just as our liturgy is outside the bounds of time.

(Oddly, the Vulgate uses the Latin word for army/host exercitus in Isaiah 6:3, whereas in Romans 9:29 and James 5:4 the Hebrew sabaoth is used.)

Of particular interest to me was the phrase alter ad alterum – one to the other. Both seraphim are shouting (clamabant not clamabat) – each to the other. But alter is an interesting Latin word to use here. It is only used with things that come in pairs – hands, eyes, ears, twins. The two seraphim are separate beings yet eternally bound to one another in some mysterious way.

Recall also that, in Catholic theology, the priest at the altar servers as alter Christus, usually translated as “second Christ”, though I think use of alter connotes something stronger in Latin, which is lost in the English translation.

For this work, Gallus divides the choir into two independent choirs, each the musical embodiment of a seraph – Duo Seraphim, Duo Chori.

At first, the two choirs answer each other, almost in canon. But as the piece progresses the calls and responses start to overlap until both choirs are singing continuously, combining one with the other until finally dissolving into a single sound/entity (alter ad alterum!) as the “seraphim” get carried away shouting the glory of God.

There were some interesting moments musically – from the isolated point of view of someone singing the Choir II bass part. Initially on “clamabant” there are octave jumps syllable to syllable – cla (up octave) ma – bant (down octave) cla (up octave) ma (down octave) bant! These octave jumps seemed well suited to “shout” and to me suggested blowing trumpets.

After alter ad alterum, the work moves on to the shout itself, with Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus. Imagine the sound of European emergency or police vehicles; that familiar two-toned screech is what is written here for the basses to sing: a perfect fourth, which somehow has the ability to cut through cacophony and is easily heard; no doubt the reason it is used for both purposes. Sanc (down fourth) tus (up fourth) Sanc (down fourth) tus …. In the bass part, these intervals (octaves, fourths) are used extensively throughout the course of the work.

Again this was just the bass part; some other participant will have to extol the greatness of the soprano, alto, and tenor scores!

When the piece resolves at the very end to an A-major chord, Gallus recalls alter ad alterum (conceptually, not textually) – separate entities yet bound together as a pair. Choir I has the A (ST) and E (AB) of the chord, while Choir II has the A (TB) and C# (SA). Without the other “seraph” the chord is incomplete!

If you are a singer, I encourage you to participate in next year’s workshop, or find a choir doing these extraordinary works or other sacred music. This is a rich but sadly neglected treasury from which one may draw profound inspiration.

Available for download shortly at Chabanel Psalms.

Here’s my setting of the Responsorial Psalm antiphon for the 9th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A. Download the entire setting and others by Jeffrey Ostrowski, Richard Rice, et al. over at Chabanel Psalms.

I posted the preliminary schedule just minutes ago.

The Colloquium will begin with a reception at 5:00pm on Monday, June 13, and wrap up with a brunch on Sunday, June 19. That should be over by around 1:00-1:30pm, for those of you who have been wanting to get your flight reservations locked in.

Aside from the list of distinguished and usual suspects, this year’s faculty includes Dr. Ann Labounsky of Duquesne University; internationally known chant expert Dr. Edward Schaefer; Dr. Paul Weber of Franciscan University; Jeffrey Morse of St. Stephen’s in Sacramento, California; organist and Jordan Prize winner Jonathan Ryan; and Monsignor Andrew Wadsworth, Executive Director of the International Committee on English in the Liturgy (ICEL).

This week’s Responsorial Psalm poses a real dilemma. How do you make something worthy of the Mass out of seven syllables? Your answer might be that it is not possible, especially in light of the function of the Gregorian Gradual, its predecessor and still the ideal, whose intent is to lift the ear and mind to higher things in contemplation of the text.

Since most choirs still won’t be singing the Gradual this weekend, something had to be done with the short text given us: Rest in God alone, my soul. One way to treat it might be to lengthen some of the more important syllables – God, -lone, or soul; give them a melismatic treatment, in other words.

But I’ve opted to lengthen the words God and soul by just a couple of pulses, and keep the rhythm of the sung text in alignment with its spoken rhythm. There has to be a wedding of form and function to make it successful given the expectation that the antiphon is to be sung by the congregation. People will be able to remember this stab at a melody after one or two repetitions, kind of like their being able to memorize a seven digit phone number. Mode II seemed to work well here, and so did moving on through the word alone on one pulse per syllable. Singers should be careful to sing the “n” of alone and the “m” of my clearly but without even the slightest pause between the two words.

Below is a quick peek at the verses. You can download the whole setting at Chabanel Psalms. Since I’ve started posting these on the Cafe, I’ve gotten lots of helpful and interesting correspondence concerning Psalm setting and Psalm singing. Next week I’ll discuss options for setting the verses.

You can find it at Chabanel Psalms, too.

Here is my Responsorial Psalm setting for the sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, year A. It’s a pretty simple and straight forward Mode V.

It is really important that the congregation be able to sing along right away – the text here just kind of traces up and down the scale with a mind to the rhythm of the words.

It can’t always be done, and shouldn’t be done for its own sake, but there is usually a place or two or three in English were you can do a playful or declamatory rhythm of three. This helps prevent the music from becoming too tied to this world – keeps the text hovering somewhere above us, somewhere that beckons our upward attention.

Can you find a rhythm of three here? If you are not Solesmes trained, all I mean is that there is a system for counting the chant by twos and threes. The method and the counting system are just a way of organizing the music so it continues to move forward in a pleasing way. It’s quite an effective system, but certainly not the end all of chant scholarship. I’ll talk more about that another time and how that impacts what I do from week to week.

I settled upon Mode V because I looked ahead at the verses. They seemed to fit quite well with the prescribed final cadences. There is one pesky spot – look at the mediant cadence in verse two. “Diligently kept” was what I had to deal with. Keeping in mind that the accent according to the mode V mediant cadence is on the penultimate note, I had a few choices. I could look at the word accent and line it up: diligently kept. Not good. It doesn’t sound much like English when you try to sing it. I could have lined up the musical accent with the one of the words that come before “diligently,” but that would have been ridiculous – too many syllables on the last note. So I went with the musical accent over the unsuspecting “ly.” Try it out. I think it works.

Why don’t I just make it easy on myself and using a set of Psalm tones that are specially tailored for English? The Meinrad tones, for example. I mentioned these a couple of weeks ago. For now I don’t because I can usually find something that works. It might take me a little longer, and I might have to abandon something and start anew, but I don’t mind. I enjoy the challenge.

Mostly I appreciate the sound and sense of the Gregorian tones, be they the Gloria Patri tones or the Office tones. I appreciate their tie to history. And during a Mass, especially if we are doing Gregorian Propers (save the Responsorial Psalm), using these connects us audibly to what is going on musically otherwise. They seem to me to be the best fit.