Category: Sacred Choral

In honor of updating the site recently and relocating this blog, I’m going to offer up something free and fun, namely a movement from the Seven Last Words.  The link goes to Soundcloud, something I have been finally getting around to using.  The movement pdf included for your veiwing pleasure is the third movement, the height of the first half of the work.  Perhaps, one of these days, I will discuss the highest point in what I consider my early composition career.  The Seven Last Words contained everything I had at the time and this movement is as much a surprise to me then as it is today.  Soundcloud movement below!

I had the privilege to be a part of the First Readings Project in Minneapolis, MN.  For the 2014-2015 Season, they were looking for women’s chorus works in particular.  On my colleague’s encouragement, Zvonimir Nagy, I wrote a new piece for this particular event (though there is another choir interested).  I had never written for women’s chorus before and it was quite fun to work with that particular scoring.

 

The text to Ave Maris Stella has always fascinated me.  The early Christian church used many nautical images and this text is no exception; Mary is the star that leads.  There is a “star” in the piece, but it’s not so much thematic as aesthetic.  To keep the piece in the time limit, I had to choose my verses, leaving several of the middle verses out.  I think the text still makes sense in the order in the piece.  Here is the text:

 

Hail, star of the sea,

Nurturing Mother of God,

And ever Virgin

Happy gate of Heaven.

 

Receiving that “Ave”

From the mouth of Gabriel,

Establish us in peace,

Transforming the name of “Eva”

 

Bestow a pure life,

Prepare a safe way:

That seeing Jesus,

We may ever rejoice.

 

Praise be to God the Father,

To the Most High Christ (be) glory,

To the Holy Spirit

Be honor, to the Three equally. Amen.

 

*There’s an error in the video: it should say Minneapolis, MN, not Minnesota, MN.

 

Whenever a composer discusses their own work, it can be quite treacherous. I only say that because I have had some really bad (and I really mean stupid) experiences with composers talking about themselves. Can I really be objective? Of course not. So, I’ll be honest. And this is how the story goes:

I wanted to introduce my Monastery choir to Maurice Duruflé’s works, particularly his Ubi Caritas. With that in mind, I made a rather feeble attempt to arrange it for my choir. Since that didn’t work, why not imitate Duruflé? Why not do my best impression? That turned into what was the first verse of the Ubi Caritas which is very doable by most choirs.

But then, asked by others, what about the other verses? Is there a way to create a version of the Ubi Caritas that includes all verses and is still singable? In my compositional process, I decided that it would be much more important that the text be strictly understood. That meant, if there is to be any drama in the work, it must not come necessarily from the text, but the build up of tension through modulation. I love the idea of using other aspects of music to create the anticipation of something to come, until the very end, when the Amen coda is strongly modal.

I try to give small insights into my own compositional process and this piece is interesting for me in that I went back and changed it. The choir that sang was a make-shift group that did really well with the short amount of practice. THAT FACT is a sign of how truly accessible the piece is for average choral groups when a professional group can nearly sight sing it.

The Seven Last Words was originally written for my Masters of Music, Sacred Music, Degree Recital (whew! that’s a lot to say).  I chose to present the piece in a series of meditations on the Passion and the service was on the afternoon of Palm Sunday.  It went something like this, There would be a reading, then a repertoire piece, followed by a meditation from one of the Passionist priests.  The last part of the service was the Seven Last Words with the Monastery Choir, instruments, and me conducting.  I have always felt that the piece, though an oratorio, works best as a meditation.  The ending, for example, is a sigh, not a dramatic gesture.

The revisions that I have started doing are happening to again, make the piece more broadly available.  The revision is going to encompass four areas: a new organ accompaniment, a new version with no solos and the choir singing all the words, and SAB and STB versions, also with no solos.  The latter revisions are being done out of sheer practicality.  Even my own small choir is better with the STB version right now than the full SATB.  Perhaps the most interesting aspect of revising and even rewriting some of the piece is simply that I’m older and different and it has been a challenge to take myself back to a piece from a different time.  Not all composers seem to struggle with this, but I certainly am!  It will be a pleasure to share the revisions, hopefully next year, when they are done!

Happy Holy Week!  This post and the next will present the oratorio “The Seven Last Words of Christ on the Cross” that I wrote back in 2009.  Of course, there is nothing more appropriate for this week than a setting of this work.  Currently, I am revising the piece, something I don’t do very often.  I suppose it is because the piece is very dear to me and at the time I wrote it, I poured everything I had into this single work.  The most important parameter that I gave myself for the piece was simply that my choir at the Monastery could sing it.  One challenge I continuously face is simply one of accessibility.  And not accessibility in the sense of whether the music is “traditional” or “contemporary,” but accessibility in the sense that a small choir of about ten people can pull it off.  Out of that was born this piece.  I’ll explain the revisions when the second post comes later this week.

On the same day as my last post, my church choir had spent much time learning something that I consider a little more difficult than my average piece.  Originally, Panis Quem Ego was written for the Duquesne organ department choir for one of the chapel Masses that we do.  I didn’t record the original performance, but the piece is a little more tricky than  what my choir is use to.  But they learned it well and sang it well.

There is one mistake (well, there are several, but I’m only going to point out one).  At the end of the piece, the word “vita” is sung.  One of my sopranos accidentally added an “s” to the end of it.  There are a few other blurbs, but I really like this piece and this recoding is pretty solid otherwise.  Someone once pointed out the Duruflé influence; I will ALWAYS take that as a compliment.  In the realm of mistakes one can make on a Sunday, this is not the worst, so I present to you a piece well sung, but not perfect.

On the Friday before Lent begins, the Passionists celebrate a feast particular to their order called the Solemn Commemoration of Passion.  Since they can’t make Good Friday their order feast day, they celebrate it early.  As it is only found in the Passionist community, it is a truly unique celebration.  That being said, I thought it appropriate to share one of the pieces I composed based on the letters of St. Paul of the Cross.  In fact, it was the first piece I wrote at the Monastery!  The words to this choral work are:

O Divine Goodness, engage us in devotion;  answer our time of need; as the Spirit inspires our hearts and minds: O Divine Goodness, hear us as we pray.

Kneel at the Cross, in the sacred silence, let God’s graces rain in abundance.

O Divine Goodness, come to us as incense; that we might be compassion and charity; let the Spirit inspire our hearts and minds: O Divine Goodness, hear as we pray.

In te speravi, the Offertory proper for the 19th Sunday in ordinary time, is a text from Psalm 30:15-16 and is a little piece I wrote the night before it was performed.  I wanted something Renaissance-like, but with a few modern harmonies that I like.  It’s short, sweet, and followed by a fugal improvisation on the piano.  (Someday, the organ will be fixed…)

An editorial note: I originally filmed this, but I didn’t position the camera well and it didn’t look very flattering to John, my cantor, and myself.  So I extracted the audio from the video file.  There is also a change in the EQ between the singing and the piano to make each part sound better.

Lastly, I was mentioning to our presider at the liturgy that I had whipped out the piece the night before.  John followed that with, “the only thing I whip out is ice cream.”  Now I will think of ice cream every time this piece is done.  Hilarious.

It is with great pleasure that the CD, “Music at the Monastery” has been released.  The CD is a compilation of music for the Passion of Jesus Christ, containing mostly compositions by me (this may seem a bit self-serving, but it does help avoid the whole copyright issue).  This particular piece is my setting of the Ubi Caritas, a setting I like to call the “poor-man’s Duruflé.”  When you listen to it, you’ll get the idea and why I like to call it that.

I want to note that I haven’t made any posts recently because the organ at the Monastery is down for the count!  It’s a simple electrical problem, but it’s meant a couple of weeks of improvising on the piano.  Not NEARLY as exciting as what I like to do, but has given me a chance to try out some rather Debussy-esque music.

One of my major projects I plan on undertaking is to write an entire set of Choral Offertory and Communion Propers for the Church Year.  Nothing like the old Renaissance polyphonic settings, but short, moderately easy pieces that include the Latin incepit and the English translation.  And hopefully INTERESTING.  The hard part about a project like this is making all the pieces stand as uniquely as they can.  I will certainly admit that much of what I do can all sound the same after a while, but that is the challenge of the composer!  This piece comes from the Gospel of John, Chapter 6: the Bread of Life discourse.