Program notes, texts, and translations

Franz Biebl was one of the most respected figures in German choral music in the later part of the 20th century. Drafted in 1943, and captured by the Americans in Italy in 1944, he was interned at Fort Custer, Michigan, as a prisoner of war. After the war, he returned to Austria, then later to Germany where he worked in church music and choir schools, and later for the Bavarian Radio Broadcasting Company (Bayerischen Rundfunk) as their first head of choral music programming. In that capacity, along with his continuing composing and directing, he had a large influence on choral music in Germany. 

Biebl is chiefly known in America through his Ave Maria, written in 1964, but made hugely popular by the Chanticleer recording 30 years later. It exhibits Biebl's characteristic tenderness, clarity, and simplicity of form. The Ave Maria was originally written for a Munich firemen’s choir to perform at a choral festival, at the request of a fireman who sang in Biebl’s church choir at Furstenfeldsbruch Kirche. 

Ave Maria

Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae

et concepit de Spiritu sancto.

Refrain:

Ave Maria, gratia plena,

Dominus tecum.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus,

et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.

Maria dixit: Ecce ancilla Domini.

Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.

      Refrain

Et Verbum caro factum est

et habitavit in nobis.

     Refrain

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, 

ora pro nobis peccatoribus,

nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen.

The angel of God visited Maria

and she conceived of the Holy Spirit.

Hail Mary, full of grace,

the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Maria said: See the servant of the Lord.

May it happen to me according to your word.

And the Word became flesh

and lived among us.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners, 

now, and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

Caroline Shaw is a New York-based musician—vocalist, violinist, composer, and producer—who performs in solo and collaborative projects. She was the youngest recipient of the Pulitzer Prize for Music in 2013 for Partita for 8 Voices, written for the Grammy-winning Roomful of Teeth, of which she is a member. Recent commissions include new works for Renée Fleming, Dawn Upshaw with Sō Percussion and Gil Kalish, the Orchestra of St. Luke’s with John Lithgow, and many others. Recent premieres include the Seattle Symphony, Anne Sofie von Otter with Philharmonia Baroque, the LA Philharmonic, Yo-Yo Ma, and Juilliard 415. Caroline has studied at Rice, Yale, and Princeton, currently teaches at NYU, and is a Creative Associate at the Juilliard School. Caroline loves the color yellow, otters, Beethoven opus 74, Mozart opera, Kinhaven, the smell of rosemary, and the sound of a janky mandolin.

Its motion keeps was commissioned by the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, and is inspired by Benjamin Britten. The composer writes:
“Britten's attraction to his native English folk songs and hymns comes through in so much of his music, from his choral and opera works to his chamber music and vocal arrangements. Taking a step in that direction, and then sideways and back and around, Its Motion Keeps is based on the words from the first verse of the American shape note hymn Kingwood, found in The Southern Harmony (1835) and other early 19th century hymn books (very likely it is a text that immigrated from England). It begins with a palindromic pizzicato line that gestures to the continuo lines of Henry Purcell, to whom Britten wrote several homages. The choir echoes this contour at first and soon splits into swift canonic figures like those found in ‘This Little Babe’ from Britten's Ceremony of Carols, eventually expanding into the ‘swirling spheres’ above string arpeggiations in a texture that recalls the vivace movement of his second string quartet (one of his homages to Purcell). The ecstatic double choir section evokes the antiphonal sound of the early English choral tradition, with harmonies overlapping overhead in the reverberant stone cathedrals, creating brief dissonances while one sound decays as the next begins. The last line, ‘Time, like the tide, its motion keeps; Still I must launch through endless deeps,’ is just one of those perfect, beautiful lyrics—resilient and bittersweet.”

Its motion keeps
My days, my weeks, my months, my years,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres,
Time, like the tide, its motion keeps;
Still I must launch through endless deeps.

Benjamin Britten, the most widely recognized and respected British composer of the 20th century, composed in every major idiom. One of his great gifts was an exceptional talent in writing for the voice, and an ability to set lyrics with such organic fluency that music and text seem perfectly partnered. For all his international success, Britten was primarily a composer who responded to the needs of his own time and place. He established the Aldeburgh Festival with Peter Pears in 1948 to provide performances for the community in which he lived. Later in life he remarked, "I certainly write music for human beings—directly and deliberately. I do not do it for posterity—in any case, the outlook for that is somewhat uncertain. I want my music to be of use to people." 

The Hymn to St. Cecilia is one of his most loved and performed choral works. British-American poet W. H. Auden, Britten's friend and collaborator, wrote the text especially for Britten. St. Cecilia, a Roman martyr of the early Christian church, is the patron saint of music, and St. Cecilia’s Day—November 22—is Britten’s birthday. Auden’s poetry is highly symbolic, referring to Cecilia with musical allusions such as "this holy lady with reverent cadence and subtle psalm," and to her martyrdom by invoking her as an "innocent virgin," a "translated daughter" and a "black swan" approaching death. The refrain "Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions to all musicians..." occurs three times, providing a unifying structure for the three different sections of the piece. Britten gives it further cohesion by using the melody of the refrain as the melody for the opening of the piece, "In a garden shady...” This melody provides a harmonic structure that alternates between C major and E major—the mixture of these two harmonies is heard in the opening bars and throughout the Hymn. The text of the second part of the Hymn is a personification of music: "I cannot grow; I have no shadow to run away from, I only play...” which Britten sets in a carefree, child-like 6/8 meter. The text and music of the third section are more complex than the preceding sections.  It opens with an invocation to St. Cecilia, personified as music ("O ear...") and a reference to the music of the spheres ("O calm of spaces unafraid of weight..."), followed by a prayer for music to restore our lost innocence ("restore our fallen day; O re-arrange"). St. Cecilia answers in the voice of a solo soprano, calling for her "dear white children," who are intelligent but immature ("so small beside their large confusing words"), to "weep away the stain" of lost innocence. There follows a stanza in which solo voices make reference to the sounds of the violin, drum, flute, and trumpet, while the text laments that humanity has been brought to "the shores of death," from which the saving power of music and love can redeem. The piece ends with a return to the unifying refrain, once more invoking Cecilia to "startle composing mortals with immortal fire."

Hymn to St. Cecilia
I.
In a garden shady this holy lady
With reverent cadence and subtle psalm,
Like a black swan as death came on
Poured forth her song in perfect calm:
And by ocean's margin this innocent virgin
Constructed an organ to enlarge her prayer,
And notes tremendous from her great engine
Thundered out on the Roman air.
Blonde Aphrodite rose up excited,
Moved to delight by the melody,
White as an orchid she rode quite naked
In an oyster shell on top of the sea;
At sounds so entrancing the angels dancing
Came out of their trance into time again,
And around the wicked in Hell's abysses
The huge flame flickered and eased their pain.
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
To all musicians, appear and inspire:
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire.

II.
I cannot grow;
I have no shadow
To run away from,
I only play.
I cannot err;
There is no creature
Whom I belong to,
Whom I could wrong.
I am defeat
When it knows it
Can now do nothing
By suffering.
All you lived through,
Dancing because you
No longer need it
For any deed.
I shall never be Different. Love me.
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
To all musicians, appear and inspire:
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire.

III.
O ear whose creatures cannot wish to fall,
O calm of spaces unafraid of weight,
Where Sorrow is herself, forgetting all
The gaucheness of her adolescent state,
Where Hope within the altogether strange
From every outworn image is released,
And Dread born whole and normal like a beast
Into a world of truths that never change:
Restore our fallen day; O re-arrange.
O dear white children casual as birds,
Playing among the ruined languages,
So small beside their large confusing words,
So gay against the greater silences
Of dreadful things you did: O hang the head,
Impetuous child with the tremendous brain,
O weep, child, weep, O weep away the stain,
Lost innocence who wished your lover dead,
Weep for the lives your wishes never led.
O cry created as the bow of sin
Is drawn across our trembling violin.
O weep, child, weep, O weep away the stain.
O law drummed out by hearts against the still
Long winter of our intellectual will.
That what has been may never be again.
O flute that throbs with the thanksgiving breath
Of convalescents on the shores of death.
O bless the freedom that you never chose.
O trumpets that unguarded children blow
About the fortress of their inner foe.
O wear your tribulation like a rose.
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
To all musicians, appear and inspire:
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire.

Herbert Howells is remembered primarily for his Anglican church music—motets, anthems, canticles, organ works, and three major choral works with orchestra. In 1935, Howells’ only son Michael died of spinal meningitis, and Howells struggled to come to terms with this great personal tragedy during the remainder of his life. Many of his choral works from 1935 and later deal with the themes of death and loss, chief among them the hauntingly beautiful Requiem. Howells began sketches for the Requiem in 1932, and completed it in 1936 after Michael’s death. (Howells noted that Michael had made his mark on the score—he added a note three years before his death.) For personal reasons, the score was not published until 1980—his friends reported that until the last two years of his life the Requiem was too painful for Howells to hear. Much of the music of the Requiem was incorporated into his Hymnus Paradisi for chorus and orchestra, which was completed in 1938 and was also withheld for personal reasons (finally performed in 1950 at the urging of Ralph Vaughan Williams.)
Joan Anne Littlejohn (b. 1937) was a composer and musicologist. She reassembled Howells' Requiem in 1960, facilitating its performance and broadcast, and collated his sketches after his death. Littlejohn worked closely with Howells' music, answering queries about his work at the request of his daughter, Ursula Pelissier.

 I—Salvator mundi
O Savior of the world,
Who by thy Cross
and thy precious Blood
hast redeemed us;
Save us and help us,
we humbly beseech thee, O Lord.

II—Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd;
therefore can I lack nothing.
He shall feed me in a green pasture,
and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort.
He shall convert my soul and bring me forth
in the paths of righteousness, for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk in the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;
thy rod and thy staff comfort me.
Thou shalt prepare a table for me
against them that trouble me.
Thou hast anointed my head with oil
and my cup shall be full.
But thy loving kindness and mercy
shall follow me all the days of my life;
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

III—Requiem aeternam 1
Requiem aeternam dona eis.
Et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.

Eternal rest grant unto them.
And may perpetual light shine upon them.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.

IV—Psalm 121
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh even from the Lord,
who hath made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved,
and he that keepeth thee will not sleep.
Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord himself is thy keeper;
he is thy defense upon thy right hand;
So that the sun shall not burn thee by day,
neither the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil:
yea, it is even he that shall keep thy soul.
The Lord shall preserve thy going out, and thy coming in,
from this time forth and for evermore.
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
from whence cometh my help.

V—Requiem aeternam 2
Requiem aeternam dona eis.
Et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.

Eternal rest grant unto them.
And may perpetual light shine upon them.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.

VI—I Heard a Voice from Heaven
I heard a voice from heaven,
saying unto me, Write:
From henceforth blessed are the dead
which die in the Lord:
Even so saith the Spirit,
For they rest from their labors.

Roxanna Panufnik (b. 1968) is a British composer of Polish descent. She is the daughter of the Polish composer and conductor Sir Andrzej Panufnik. She has written a wide range of pieces including opera, ballet, music theatre, choral works, chamber compositions, and music for film and television. Her works are regularly performed all over the world. She is especially interested in building musical bridges between faiths and her first project in this field was the violin concerto Abraham, incorporating Christian, Islamic, and Jewish chant to create a musical analogy for the fact that these three faiths believe in the same one God. The BBC Last Night of the Proms in 2018 commissioned and premiered Songs of Darkness, Dreams of Light which brought together Jewish text, modes, Maronite Syriac chant, and Sufi rhythm and structure. In 2023, Panufnik was one of twelve composers asked to write a new piece for the coronation of Charles III and Camilla. 

All shall be well combines a traditional Polish chant (Bogurodzica) with the writings of the 14th-century female English mystic, Julian of Norwich: “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

The composer writes:

“I’ve been longing for an opportunity to work with Bogurodzica, a 14th-century plainsong hymn which Polish knights sang as they went into battle. So when The Exultate Singers commissioned a piece for their concert celebrating the 20th anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down, this seemed the perfect chance. I have also had my eye on Julian of Norwich’s (also 14th-century) Divine Revelations— especially the profoundly comforting works spoken to her by God in chapter 32: ‘All things shall be well.’ When I looked closely at these two texts together, I noticed that they seemed to form a conversation. The knights’ pleas for safety in victory and paradise (Heaven) after life, are answered by God’s/Julian’s comforting assurance ‘…that all manner of thing shall be well. Have faith, and have trust, and at the last day you shall see it all transformed into great joy.’ I have tried to represent this conversation with two choirs in stereo, over a solo cello—the latter often taking the main melodies and sometimes contributing gusto to the lower-pitched bass lines. From the last four lines of Bogurodzica all Polish and Middle English words change into modern English as the conversation becomes more ardent and cohesive, concluding in ‘Paradise’ and ‘great joy.’”

All shall be well

Bogurodzica, verse 1:

Bogurodzica, Dziewica, 

Bogiem slawiena Maryja, 

Twego syna, Gospodzina, 

Matko zwolena, Maryja. 

Zyszczy nam, spusci nam, 

Kyrie eleison. 

Mother of God, oh Virgin,

Glorified Mary by God.

Your son, our Lord,

Chosen Mother, Mary.

Conquer for us, bestow upon us,

Lord have mercy.

Julian of Norwich (in middle English):

Al thing shal be wele.

…al manner of thing shal be wele.

Take now hede faithfully and trosting,

And at the last end thu shalt verily 

sen it in fulhede of joye.

Julian of Norwich (in modern English):

All things shall be well 

. . . all manner of thing shall be well. 

Have faith, and have trust, 

and at the last day you shall 

see it all transformed into great joy.

Bogurodzica (Verse 2):

Twego dziela Krzciciela, Bozycze, 

Uslysz glosy, napeln mysli czlowiecze. 

Slysz modlitw􀀦, jaz nosimy, 

a dac raczy, jegoz prosimy: 

a na swiecie zbozny pobyt, 

po zywocie rajski przebyt 

For the sake of your Baptist, God’s son,

Hear our voices, fulfill humanity’s intentions,

Hear the prayer we offer

And grant us what we ask of him:

A pious stay on earth

And after life, Paradise.

Kyrie eleison. 

Lord have mercy.

Karen P. Thomas (bio linked here) was commissioned by former Seattle Pro Musica singer and board member Laura Patton Ballard and her husband, Jim Ballard. The World is Charged receives its world premiere with this concert. 

The poem God’s Grandeur was written by the English Jesuit priest and poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. In God's Grandeur Hopkins conveys his reverence for the magnificence of God and nature, and his despair about the way that humanity has seemed to lose sight of the close connection between the two. The poet describes a natural world through which God's presence runs like an electrical current, becoming momentarily visible in flame-like flashes that resemble the sparkling of metal foil when “shook” in the light. Hopkins also describes God's presence as being like a rich oil, whose true greatness is only revealed when crushed to its essence. Hopkins wrote God’s Grandeur in 1877, during the Second Industrial Revolution, a period of rapid technological advancement, including the expansion of factories, railroads, and electrical power. While the Second Industrial Revolution improved standards of living, it also had a brutal impact on nature: clear-cutting and mining decimated the landscape; and pollution from factories and trains darkened the air and water. The poet’s use of the words "seared," "bleared," and "smeared" in the first section of the poem conveys Hopkins's sadness at how all has been corrupted by humanity's relentless "trade" and "toil." 

The poem then takes a turn toward hope—nature never loses its power, and deep down, life always continues to exist. The source of regeneration is the grace of God who guards the broken world much like a mother bird "broods" over an egg; containing the assurance that nature will endure humanity's plundering and be reborn. 

God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.