St. Nicholas Visits St. John's Chapel

Ad te levavi

Music for the Feast of the Presentation

Deo gratias!

We're so grateful for our altar boys at St. John's Cemetery Chapel who so earnestly and devoutly assist Father at our Sunday morning Missa Cantata.

 It's one of the highlights of my Sunday morning to see them after Mass rushing out of the sacristy to play football in the sun among the old tombstones. I can't help but think that the dear departed welcome their laughter and youthful high spirits as well.

Franciscus pauper et humilis

The Alleluia verse for today's celebration of the feast of St. Francis.

Mother Francis Mary in her book, A Right to be Merry, describes singing the Transitus from which these words are taken.

St. Michaelmas Alleluia

The Alleluia for the Feast of St.Michael yesterday presented some challenges, the first being that there seemed to be no recordings of it available. I was happy to discover through someone on the Musica Sacra forum an awesome resource: www.gregorianbooks.com which offers many recordings of  hard-to-find propers so that was a happy benefit of my search.

The Alleluia is of particular note.

I found this section the most challenging with its two climacus of different lengths.

Credo VI

Looking through the various Credo's in the Kyriale, I was fascinated by this oft-recurring figure in Credo VI. It is repeated 21 times as the conclusion of every phrase.

The Amen:

St. John's Cemetery Chapel on a summer Sunday.

A Splendid French Mass Setting

Henri Dumont (1610-1674)

The Messe Royale  has long been a favorite of the French. The famous church of Saint-Eugene-Saint-Cecile at Paris, where the EF Latin Mass has been celebrated for the last 25 years, frequently sings this beautiful chant mass, composed in the 16th c. by Henri du Mont.

Wikipedia tells us that from 1652 Henri Du Mont was harpsichordist at the court of the Duke of Anjou (Philippe I, Duke of Orléans, a brother of Louis XIV), and in 1660 he obtained that post to the young queen Marie-Thérése. In 1663 he became "maitre" of the Chapelle Royale in Versailles, in 1672 he became "Sous-maître de la musique du Roy" (with Pierre Robert) and in 1673 became Master of the Queen's Music.

The notation may be found here, but I've had no luck in finding the organ accompaniment online. Will keep trying since I would love to introduce this mass setting to our schola and congregation. Of course, it's always possible to sing it acapella but we've found that using the accompaniment is a helpful aid in encouraging the people to sing along with the schola.

These recordings are from Saint-Eugene-Saint-Cecile:

Ice ring around the sun

We were amazed by the strange ring around the sun around 1:30 pm today. A scientifically-minded friend explained that it is a phenomenon caused by the very cold air temperatures high in the stratosphere.

Go figure.

Examining the First Alleluia for the Fifth Sunday After Easter

 

 

In this week's Alleluia, there are several fine examples of the pressus, the Gregorian chant neum which is formed by the conjunction of two neums over one syllable. When the last note of one neum and the first note of another neum are the same note, they form one long note.

 

 

pressus

In this example, the pressus is formed by the last note of a clivus and the first note of the next clivus.

 

(Actually two of the circled examples in the first example are probably bistropha since they are two individual puncta and not two neums fused together.)

 

Sometimes it's difficult to tell what is going on in a melisma, such as this group of neums taken from the end of the Alleluia above. As far as I can tell, the neum in aqua is a podatus, the purple is a clivus, the yellow appears to be a punctum, the green is a climacus, the blue a bistropha and the red a dotted punctum:

 

 

 

 

 

The pressus is an element which provides strength and solidity to the melody line.

 

How to sing the pressus? Dr. Theodore Marier explains in his book, A Gregorian Chant Master Class, that the pressus should not be stressed but "sung firmly, without a diminuendo, for the duration of two pulses."  He quotes Dom Gajard in The Solesmes Method:

 

By their natural weight the pressus play a particularly important part in the architectural structure of the melody. Dom Mocquereau compared them to solid pillars on which the whole musical structure rests, but he assured me he was referring to their rhythmical importance and not necessarily to their dynamic strength. 

We can't end our discussion of the First Alleluia without mentioning the high point of the verse which is the melisma over redemit where the melody ascends and weaves itself around the first and second lines of the staff:

 

 Dom Johner in his Chants of the Vatican Gradual offers this interpretation:

As a city set on a hill cannot remain hid, so this redemit attracts the attention by its notation and still more by its rendition . . . We have been redeemed through the blood of Christ. Joyful remembrance of this fact urges us to express our thanks again and again. Here it is done in a simple yet affectionate manner by the pressus over sanguine.

So our pressus appears once more in this piece over the word sanguine, (circled in pink above) demonstrating that in this proper the pressus is indeed a critical structural element.

Justine Ward's Childhood Home

Justine (nee Bayard Cutting) Ward, whose life's work was the development and promulgation of a method of teaching Gregorian chant to children, lived for much of her childhood and young adult life in Westbrook, her family's mansion and nearly 700-acre estate on the South Shore of Long Island.

On a recent Sunday afternoon, we visited Westbrook, now the Bayard Cutting Arboretum, which was donated to the Long Island State Park Commission in 1936.



Walking along the Connetquot River near the Carriage House.

 

Admiring the view along the Connetquot.



The picturesque Carriage House where concerts and other programs are frequently held.

Approaching the family mansion from the west side.

 

In the west garden.

 

View of the back veranda of the mansion from under the canopy of the enormous Weeping Beech (Fagus sylvatica 'Pendula') on the Great Lawn.

Remembering Msgr. Murphy

Photo from The Brooklyn Tablet

August 11, 1929 - April 23, 2012
 

Tu es sacerdos in aeternum secundum ordinem Melchisedech.

 

Rev. Msgr. Walter Murphy was ordained to the priesthood on May 31, 1958, and was named Prelate of Honor to His Holiness in June of 1984. He served as a combat officer in the U.S. Marine Corps during the Korean War. After ordination, he was a member of the faculty at Cathedral Preparatory Seminary and College, Douglaston. He served as pastor at Sacred Heart Church in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, for 30 years and as National Chaplain, First Marine Division Association.

He celebrated the Sunday Latin Mass at St. John's Chapel Cemetery for several years and was beloved by all for his kindness, good cheer and faithfulness. Fr. Wilson celebrated a memorial Requiem Mass for him at the chapel last May a few weeks after his death and the congregation walked to his grave site in the cemetery after Mass to say some prayers.

Several of us attended his funeral at Immaculate Conception Seminary in Douglaston and were fortunate to sit at the reception afterward with some Marine veterans who recounted a number of touching accounts of this indomitable and extraordinarily selfless man.

I think the most moving tribute to Msgr. Murphy comes from V.K., who sent the photos of his vestment featured in the last post:

These vestments, to me, always carry a special memory of Monsignor Walter Murphy too, as he liked wearing them. Monsignor Murphy was, to me, a great example of what a gentleman is, someone strong and tough enough to have been a marine, a veteran of the Korean war, but also such a gentle soul, the reliable and beloved confessor of children. A proof that real strong men are not afraid of being gentle.

Taking a closer look

A friend from St. John's sent me these fascinating close-up photos of the vestment which Father wore this past Sunday on the occasion of a First Holy Communion.

 

From what I understand, this exquisite vintage handmade vestment belonged to Msgr. Walter Murphy, of happy and beloved memory, who often celebrated Mass for us at St. John's Chapel.

 

The first anniversary of Msgr. Murphy's death is this Tuesday, April 23.

 

Requiescat in pace.

 

It was necessary that Christ suffer

 It was necessary that Christ suffer, and rise from the dead, and so enter into His glory. (Luke 24:46)

 

This Sunday's Second Alleluia is taken from St. Luke's Gospel, an embellishment of the parting words of Jesus before He ascends into Heaven. Just as this explanation must have alternately mystified and cheered the disciples, so this Alleluia exemplifies the difficult passage from suffering into glory.

 

In the image above, the ictus marks are in blue, marking the notes which receive rhythmic emphasis. I marked the thematic climax with a red asterisk over the word gloriam, which seems to me to be the culmination of the verse, although the words oportebat (it was necessary) pati (to suffer) and ita (so) are also strong points in the melody.

 

There are a number of repeated motifs in this unusual Alleluia which are accomplished through the use of the porrectus and climacus. The idea of suffering is said to be represented in the first half of the jubilus of the Alleluia while the second half of the jubilus demonstrates Christ's coming into glory after His passion. 

 

The porrectus is found five times in the first line of the Alleluia below:

The five consecutive porrectus in this line suggest a sense of struggle, of oppression, since the melody can not soar and must remain locked in place since the melody descends one note and returns to the original position:

 

porrectus

However, in the second half of the jubilus, we see dramatic leaps and cascades, symbolizing joy. The cascade effect is largely effected by the artful use of the climacus, a series of three or more descending notes, four of which are circled here:

 

The climacus is usually found in groups of three, and for some reason I often rush these, I think because it reminds me of a triplet, which in classical music is sometimes found in place of a quarter note. The notes in a triplet are a bit faster than eighth notes but slower than sixteenth notes. I usually circle these so I remember to give each note equal value. In the case above, each climacus begins with a stressed note, so the next two diamond-shaped notes are sung more lightly.

 

climacus

While searching for a picture of the climacus, I discovered that there was a 7th c. Greek monk named St. John Climacus, or St. John the Ladder, based on the fact that he wrote a book called The Ladder of Divine Ascent which quickly became one of the most widely read and beloved treatises on Byzantine spirituality.

 

Perhaps this picture of St. John Climacus leading a group of saints up the ladder to heaven will help you, as it does me, to remember the name of this Gregorian chant neum.

 

First Holy Communion at St. John's Chapel

 

 

 

 

Analyzing this Sunday's Alleluia

The apostles knew the Lord Jesus in the breaking of bread.

Among the weekly propers there is usually one of them which requires more work than the others. This week, the First Alleluia gets the prize, which is surprising given the fact that the melody is quite familiar since it is found on several occasions during the liturgical year, so we have in fact sung this Alleluia a number of times.

The score may not have changed, but a year of singing the Sunday propers has slowly changed my understanding of Gregorian chant. Where before I saw a fairly simple melodic line, now I see almost endless peaks and valleys, some small and some large, and a demanding series of crescendos and decrescendos. I also search for the dramatic climax of the piece and automatically identify the cadences---the resolution or ending point of each phrase, marked by a falling inflection of the voice, as at the end of a sentence.

I have a rudimentary system of marking the features of each proper: First, and most importantly, the ictus marks (small vertical lines) are placed on the notes which receive rhythmic emphasis, usually on notes of length or the first note of a neum, though there are exceptions. Next, groups of notes that belong together which are not immediately obvious are circled. Then after I listen to the chant on the Schola Bellarmina CD several times, the cadences are marked. Finally, the thematic climax, the strongest point of the melody (usually the most important word in the verse towards which the melody is building and from which it gradually subsides), is highlighted with a large asterisk.

In this piece, the phrase Dominum Jesum appears to be the high point of the verse, which of course makes perfect sense from a literal and musical perspective.

It's almost as if you can hear the apostles exclaiming in wonder to one another, Dominus est! (It is the Lord!) (which, incidentally, is the name of Bishop Athanasius Schneider's seminal book on the Eucharist).

Good Shepherd Sunday

The propers and readings for this coming Sunday concern Christ as the Pastor Bonus. As Dom Johner writes in his masterful exposition, Chants of the Vatican Gradual:

Today is the Sunday of the "Good Shepherd." Everything breathes of His goodness, His love, His understanding pity. He knows His own. He acknowledges every indication of good will. He recognizes our weaknesses and knows how to have compassion on us. All the earth must in very deed praise His merciful love, for He has given His life for everyone.

Christ is the shepherd and bishop of our souls; today's Epistle applies these terms to Him. He keeps a faithful watch over His sheep, never resting, never slumbering. Hence it is but fitting that my first waking thought be directed to Him at the first streak of dawn (de luce vigilo).

Byrd's Haec Dies a 3

The incomparable William Byrd wrote two versions of this motet based on the Gradual for Easter Sunday. The first, for six voices, was written in 1591 and the second, for three, in 1605.

I was happy to discover this fine edition of Haec Dies for three voices on ChoralWiki, skillfully arranged by the Rev. Anthony Cekada. Thankfully, it's in clear, easy-to-read modern notation with standard treble and bass clef, along with helpful dynamic markings and a metronome marking, features which are not always available on some purist editions of Renaissance music.

Another valuable feature is the addition of a keyboard reduction of all parts which could also be used as an accompaniment if so desired. We will sing this acapella, but I like to play reductions of new polyphonic pieces during the week on the piano so the singing members of my family can assimilate them without too much effort.

Our altitude-loving sopranos were happy to learn that the editor raised the final series of Alleluias an octave higher than the original. The original ending is perhaps a bit prosaic, so I'd have to agree that the string of high F's in Fr. Cekada's edition adds a welcome and appropriate sparkle to the conclusion of the piece.

(An mp3 recording by Amici Cantores may be purchased here for $0.89.)

As newborn babes . . .

This Sunday's Introit is provocative:
                                                                                

Quasimodo geniti infants, rationabiles, sine dolo, lac concupiscite, Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

As newborn infants, thoughtful,  without guile, desire milk. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

While it is not difficult to think of newborn babies as innocent and without guile (sine dolo), it is not as common to characterize them as "thoughtful" (rationabiles) but that is indeed the most accurate way to describe the little folks, and their habit of intellectual activity  seems to be what the psalmist is asking us to emulate.

Newborn infants are totally helpless, and their every need must be carefully attended to by a competent and mature person. However, despite their fragility and apparent passivity, they are immersed in a most urgent and prodigious task: learning as much as they can about the environment around them.

Maria Montessori, in her groundbreaking book The Absorbent Mind, describes "the great work of a child" which is to observe, analyze, record and imitate the complex activities of the human beings with whom they are in contact:

There is, so to speak, in every child a painstaking teacher, so skillful that he obtains identical results in all children in all parts of the world. The only language men ever speak perfectly is the one they learn in babyhood, when no one can teach them anything! Not only this, but if at a later age the child has to learn another language, no expert help will enable him to speak it with the same perfection as he does his first.

So there must be a special psychic force at work, helping the little child to develop. And this not only for language; for at two he can recognize all the persons and things around him. If we consider this, it becomes ever clearer that the child does an impressive work of inner formation. All that we ourselves are has been made by the child, by the child we were in the first two years of our lives.