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.