Music for The Ascension of our Lord

The music of Olivier Messiaen imparts a highly personal and aesthetically striking depiction of the Mysteries of Christ, evoking the religious writings of Aquinas, Guardini, and Balthasaar, the musical aesthetic of Debussy (whom he revered), and his own experiences rooted in mysticism and synesthesia. At 6:15, I will speak about the context in which he penned L’Ascension (1934), although one need not verse oneself in technicalities and background to appreciate the music played during today’s Mass. Truly, Messiaen offers an encounter with the Sacred, one which is best approached in a meditative mindset, with open ear and heart, surrounded by and grounded in the physical world, which he viewed as inseparable from the divine.

The communion motet today is written by Raffaella Aleotti (c. 1570-after 1646), an Augustinian nun, composer, and organist in Ferrara. At her convent, San Vito, the nuns were responsible for providing music for the Divine Office and Mass; as a result, they learned instruments and professional duties normaly reserved for men. Aleotti composed a collection of motets, later published in Venice in 1593. The convent often welcomed aristocratic guests from the Este, one of whom leaves the following account of witnessing a performance by Aleotti’s cappella di musica:

You would see [the nuns] enter… the place where a long table has been prepared, upon which, at one end, is found a large harpsichord; you would see them enter one by one, quietly, each carrying her own instrument, whether stringed or wind. Without making even the slightest sound, each proceeds to her assigned place… Finally, the Maestra of the Concerto [Aleotti] seats herself at the other end of the table. When she has looked around and is certain that all the other Sisters are ready, with a long, slender, and well-polished baton, she silently gives them a sign to begin… And you would certainly hear such harmony that it would seem to you either that you had been carried off to Helicon; or that Helicon, together with all the chorus of the Muses singing and playing, had been transported there.

Abraham Ross

Music for Sixth Sunday of Easter

When singing Renaissance polyphony, the question of vocal range often poses questions for our ensemble. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, European music was often sung by mature lower voices only (with exceptions), among which lie three vocal types: lowest, low but ranging up to our modern tenors’ register, and “counter-tenor” or the range roughly one octave above full voice accomplished by singing in falsetto. When we confront the source for a-four part mass, for example, we often find it written for three lower and one upper voice, rather than our modern mixed-voice formation of two upper and two lower parts.

The good news is that these pices were sung at the pitch of whatever instrument accompanied them, or when sung a capella, the diapason was likely set by whoever was leading the group. Since the English choirs of the Victorian era, it has become common practice to transpose our editions of Tallis and Byrd to key signatures they would not recognize, seeking to suit the range of the group at hand.

As a result, we often hear Tallis’s famous motet If ye love me sung in F major by a mixed chorus, as one finds in the Novello editions of old. Today, the tenors and basses of our choir sing Solemn Mass, and I thought it would be interesting to sing this four-part motet at the pitch originally notated. While this is a fourth lower than you’re accustomed to hearing it, it may be closer to the register in which it was sung in Tallis’s time. Regardless of spurious “authenticity,” I find that this diapason produces even richer, darker, consonances, providing a slightly different perspective on the motet, and on the words of Christ from today’s Gospel.

Abraham Ross

Solemn Mass takes place at St. James’ Anglican Church, Vancouver at 10:30 am every Sunday.