Genesis

Much of Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poetry is poignant and succinct, born out of first-hand experience of adversity. Many of his poems describe human emotion, and the lyrics often use contrasting language of hope and sadness. This setting of his three-verse poem, A Prayer, is like a reflective evening hymn in its use of a consistent, rhythmically simple melody, which has variations on the second and third verses. The style of writing requires a range of choral vocal colours — ranging from pure, straight tones to intentionally strong vibrato; from the sounds reminiscent of the middle-age organum style to passages requiring a contemporary vocal approach.

The opening introductory phrase sets the mood for prayer, with a quasi-monastic humming phrase built on parallel chords. The sense of weariness, and intense yearning for relief, is painted by the melancholic chromatically falling melodic line and harmonies, which contrast with the more comforting spacious harmonies. The sombre second verse is followed by a moment of hope in the third, where the setting takes a new direction, momentarily departing from the original key. The rippling effect of healing waters is reflected in the rising and falling bass and alto lines. The emotional intensity and the free, improvised character of Spirituals, Gospel, and Blues conveys the depth of pain in the second part of the third verse on the word ‘aching’, before returning to the solemn plea. The closing Amen carries the bitter-sweet mood of the setting.

The Trois Chansons by Claude Debussy are from a 1908 collection, relatively late in the composer’s lifetime although two of the three vignettes were actually written ten years earlier.  The only a cappella choral works he wrote, barring some unfinished pieces, they set three texts by medieval poet and prince, Charles d’Orléans, who was imprisoned in England after the Battle of Agincourt in 1415.

“Dieu! qu’il la fait bon regarder” is a seemingly simple but beautiful love song admiring the grace, virtues, and beauty embodied by the lady in question. Its homophonic opening uses harmonies rooted in medieval music, but the piece quickly develops into richer, more Romantic tonalities with some gentle interplay between the voices.

One of my formative musical experiences as an undergraduate was singing in Stanford  University’s Chamber Chorale under the leadership of Dr. Stephen M. Sano. In the ensuing years, I have had the privilege of composing choral music for the weddings of no fewer than six alumni of the ensemble. Among them was the 2017 wedding of Chorale alum Julian Kusnadi to music educator Emily Ryan, an event that brought together over thirty professional singers from across the San Francisco Bay Area. Richly scored for eight independent voice parts, “Unending Love” draws on the poetry of the Bengali polymath Rabindranath Tagore, the first person of color to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Tagore’s work ranged widely across the realms of poetry, fiction, drama, visual art, and musical composition. I give Tagore’s lyrical poetry an equally effusive musical setting, drawing on lush added-tone sonorities and overlapping waves of imitative counterpoint.

Raised in the West Highlands of Scotland, Lisa Robertson studied music at Royal Holloway, University of London and violin at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Her compositions draw inspiration from folk music and the sights and sounds of nature, connecting with traditions and environments made fragile all too often by mankind’s indifference or neglect. The fine balance of constancy and change runs through “…a link in a chain…,” Robertson’s graceful setting of Newman’s words. Her music flows without interruption, save for silent bars after the score’s introductory solos and a few barely perceptible moments for the choir to catch its breath; its textures, however, ebb and flow, moving from words to wordlessness, light to shade, like a familiar landscape transformed by passing clouds

The Prayers of Kierkegaard have been set in a quasi chant-like style to reflect the most natural flow and meaning of this powerful text... The open fifth drone with a melody line on a single pitch symbolizes a faith in one that is constant and forever unchanging. Not until the word ‘moved’ does the melody line actually change and still does not venture far from the sustaining pedal pitches. The second prayer is a more poignant text that has been set with increasing dissonance to reflect the suffering of Christ. It ends with a cadence on a tritone to symbolize the sinful nature of man. The third prayer makes frequent use of inverted triads moving in parallel fashion to symbolize the active and ‘longing’ nature of the text. Suspensions and well-placed dissonances are also used to enhance the meaning of selected words.

Spiritus Mundi was composed for Suzi Digby to premiere with The Golden Bridge Consort as a companion piece—a modern “reflection”—of Orlando de Lassus’s motet Timor et tremor.

In searching for a contemporary text that could pair with Timor et tremor, I was struck by Amy Fleury’s Spiritus Mundi. Fleury’s poem is secular but still spiritual, reflecting gratitude for the fruits of the earth in a language both pastoral and almost biblical. “All flesh is grass” evokes Peter1:24, and at least to my ear, the final sentence of Spiritus Mundi (“In sympathy, we shall shiver and bend...”) parallels the opening line of Timor et tremor (“Fear and trembling came over me...”). “Hear, O God, my prayer” is echoed in Fleury’s pleas to “listen” and “hear” what the land is saying. Both pieces explore the idea of trust in something greater than oneself, whether that trust is in God or the natural world that surrounds us.

Though Timor et tremor is predominantly made up of triads in root position, they are masterfully constructed in a way that still sounds striking, even surprising, to a modern listener. I wanted to capture that same blend of the familiar and the unexpected in Spiritus Mundi, which employs the same richly-voiced triads. Most notably, the opening and conclusion of Spiritus Mundi reflect the chord progressions from the beginning and ending of Timor et tremor.