This week we turn again to the Renaissance for our introit, to Franco-Flemish composer Orlando di Lasso (or Lassus) (c.1532-1594). Born in Belgium, Lasso spent his early years in Italy before settling in Munich in 1556. There he served as "maestro di cappella" in the Court of Albrecht V, the Duke of Bavaria. (I'm thinking this would make a good title, frankly: Maestro di cappella del Marble has a nice ring to it.) Composers came from all over Europe to study with Orlando di Lasso, including Andrea Gabrieli and possibly also his nephew Giovanni. His phenomenal musical legacy includes 530 motets, 60 masses, and 4 passions – one for each Gospel writer. 

 

The motet we will sing, Jubilate Deo, is polyphonic in style, as opposed to the homophonic style of last week’s introit by Heinrich Schütz. In polyphonic music the voices sing in imitative counterpoint with one another, entering individually rather than together. In this style the music takes precedence over the text, and the joy with which the different voice parts play off of one another is infectious. The overall effect is pure elegance. I find there is something truly cleansing about this music – it's pure, reverent and unencumbered, and it refreshes the soul as we enter into the sacred space of worship.

 

 

Despite its Latin title in the program, the offertory anthem by William Walton (1902-1983) is in English. It was one of the last vocal pieces Walton composed, having been written in 1972 for the English Bach Festival. (The very first choral piece he wrote at the age of fourteen – A Litany (Drop, Drop Slow Tears) – is one that the Sanctuary Choir often sings during our Maundy Thursday Service.) 

 

Walton entered Christ Church, Oxford, as a boy chorister at the age of 10. His passion for music led him to neglect his academic studies, however, and he never actually graduated. His compositional output is vast, including music for two royal coronations – Crown Imperial, for George VI in 1937, and Orb and Scepter, for Elizabeth II in 1953. Through these occasions he inherited the mantle of Edward Elgar as a composer of great ceremonial music. Walton was also a prolific composer of film scores, and he was nominated for an Academy Award in 1944 for his music to Henry V starring Laurence Olivier. In fact, this Sunday's postlude is actually taken from Walton's score to the 1969 film The Battle of Britain. For obvious reasons, in the program I opted to stick with the generic title Introduction and March.

 

Walton’s Jubilate Deo is one of my favorite anthems, and I also chose it for my first Sunday at Marble in 1996. It opens with a frolicking organ solo that leads into a double choir section on the text "O be joyful in the Lord." Suddenly the music comes to a halt and a solo trio serenely intones, "Be ye sure that the Lord is God" echoed by a choir of three angels singing "that the Lord is our God." A wonderfully muscular theme follows, sung strongly by the men: "O go your way into God's gates with thanksgiving." Again the trio interrupts the flow of the music, this time with the text, "Be thankful to the Lord," answered once again by the three angels. In the anthem's final section Walton sets the text, "And God's truth endureth from generation to generation" to music which repeatedly rocks back and forth between two harmonies, thereby portraying both the never-ending cycle of generations and the unchanging nature of God. A return to the opening key of B-flat heralds the closing Gloria Patri sung by the choir, followed by a surprise ending in which Walton, completely without warning, drops us down a half-step to A major on the final note! I almost feel as if this anthem is itself a miniature film score composed to accompany Psalm 100, and as such it brings the well-known scripture to life.

 

Our opening hymn is a metrical paraphrase of Psalm 100 from the Genevan Psalter of 1551, All People That on Earth Do Dwell. The melody is the famous Old Hundredth tune which we sing as the Doxology every Sunday, albeit in a slightly different rhythm. You'll notice in the hymnal it says "Psalm 100" above the title, but "Psalm 134" off to the right. This is because the music, attributed to Louis Bourgeois (c.1510-1560) was originally composed to accompany the metrical version of Psalm 134. There are many who dispute the theory that Bourgeois actually composed this melody, which has become the most famous of all hymn tunes worldwide. There is a theory that many of the tunes in the Genevan Psalter were actually fragments of existing chansons and popular folk songs which were then adapted for ecclesiastical use. 

 

Regardless of the original roots of this great melody, it is a powerful and majestic one. For Sunday's prelude I will be presenting two contrasting settings of Old Hundredth – one by English composer Henry Purcell (1659-1695), and another by contemporary American composer Robert Hebble. Hebble's setting is an exciting Toccata that was composed for the great organ of the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, one of the largest church organs in the world. Sadly, it currently sits largely unused during Cathedral broadcasts, given the recent decision to move exclusively to praise band music for their services.

 

How did the tradition of singing the Doxology to Old Hundredth come about? Thomas Ken (1637-1711) was born just outside London and attended Winchester College, an historic boys' school. Later, following his ordination, he returned to Winchester as chaplain. In 1674 he wrote three hymns to encourage the devotional habits of the boys, and they were told to sing these hymns privately in their rooms. One was to be sung in the morning, one in the evening, and one at midnight if they couldn't fall asleep. They were to follow each hymn by singing "Praise God from whom all blessings flow," the words that we now use as our Doxology. It would be an interesting endeavor for each of us to sing or say this hymn as our first utterance in the morning and our final breath before sleep at night. What a wonderful way to frame each day, following Thomas Ken’s suggestion to his boys 325 years ago.

 

 

Our remaining anthem on Sunday is a new piece to Marble and to the choir: Prayer by René Clausen (b. 1953). Its ethereal beauty and compelling text has me firmly in its emotional grip, and I have it in 'repeat' mode on my iPod. Here is a brief sample sung by the Wartburg Choir under the direction of Lee Nelson. (LISTEN HERE) The Sanctuary Choir and I began rehearsing it last Saturday when we were on an all-day retreat at Bronxville Reformed Church. As part of our worship time we sang Prayer in the church's beautiful cathedral-like stone sanctuary, huddled close together in the chancel among ornately carved choir stalls. It truly was a musically and spiritually transcendent moment. As we sang I could not stop thinking of my dear friend Dwight Rangeler who had suddenly and tragically passed away that very morning. Somehow his spirit seemed to hover over us and within our harmony. How he loved music.

 

Dwight never knew this beautiful anthem, although I know he would have adored it. As we sing it this Sunday I would like to offer it as a prayer of thanksgiving for his life, for the deep privilege I had of knowing him, and for the countless ways in which he embodied this beautiful text by Mother Teresa of Calcutta:

Help me.