Daniel
03-14-2008, 12:24 AM
I've sung a lot of church music during my life, but the Duruflé Requiem is one of those pieces that haunts me to this day- and moves me to tears. It happened to be on the classical radio this evening- and hearing it took me back to places and people that I haven't thought of for a while. That's the gift of music: it can help us remember who and what we are.
And in that sense, that's what I've always liked- and loved- about church. The music. It has always taken me places that the spoken word alone cannot go.
If you haven't heard this work, you are missing something. There is something amazing in how the composer makes use of Gregorian Chant: it is transfixing and takes one towards liminal numinosity.
And those of you who know Fauré's Requiem, will know that - while both composers are French- the two works are quite different. One might say that the Duruflé Requiem appeals to the subconscious mind, while the Fauré Requiem is more classical, more transparent, and ascends straight up towards the heavens. Both are sensuous works. And both are wonderful to sing.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Requiem_(Duruflé)
The Requiem, op. 9, by Maurice Duruflé was commissioned in 1947 by the French music publisher Durand and is written in memory of the composer's father. The work is for mixed choir with mezzo-soprano and baritone soloists. It exists in three orchestrations: one for organ alone, one for organ with string orchestra, and one for organ and full orchestra.
At the time the commission arrived, Duruflé was working on an organ suite using themes from Gregorian chants. Duruflé incorporated his sketches for that work into the Requiem, which uses many themes from the Gregorian "Mass for the Dead." Nearly all the thematic material in the work comes from chant.
The work is set in nine movements. Interestingly, the Dies irae text, perhaps the most famous portion of the Requiem mass, is not set as a movement by itself as usual. Overall, however, Duruflé chose the calmer and more meditative texts from the requiem.
In the full score, the fifth movement, "Pie Jesu," has the only solo for the mezzo-soprano; in addition, even in the "organ-only" version of the Requiem, there is an obbligato cello solo. The baritone soloist has parts in the third movement, "Domine Jesu Christe," and the penultimate movement, "Libera me."
Duruflé left indications in the score that, for the baritone soloist at least, it was preferable to have the choir sing the solos instead. This has resulted in various forces being used in different recordings, some with both soloists, some with only the mezzo-soprano, and some (such as Robert Shaw's Telarc recording) using no soloists at all.
I've sung the baritone solo's of the Duruflé as well as the Fauré, and the Duruflé's solos, while short, are full of passion. Once, I had to do it while in the midst of the flu- and another singer couldn't be found, so, fool that I was at the time, I went on. That took some doing- hearing one's voice on the edge the whole time- not sure if it was going to collapse or not. Somehow, I got through it.
The Fauré? That is etched in my mind for another reason: I had my debut as a soloist singing it with the Westminster Choir in Spoleto Italy- the same day that my grandfather died- though I didn't know it at the time- though I knew the whole day that something was wrong. And I thought is was about the affair I was having with a wonderful man, who is alas, no longer on the planet. (Richard- if you are listening- your warmth, heart and passion, is remembered and treasured.)
Here is one of the movements of the Duruflé.
N6ySRRqe1ks
And in that sense, that's what I've always liked- and loved- about church. The music. It has always taken me places that the spoken word alone cannot go.
If you haven't heard this work, you are missing something. There is something amazing in how the composer makes use of Gregorian Chant: it is transfixing and takes one towards liminal numinosity.
And those of you who know Fauré's Requiem, will know that - while both composers are French- the two works are quite different. One might say that the Duruflé Requiem appeals to the subconscious mind, while the Fauré Requiem is more classical, more transparent, and ascends straight up towards the heavens. Both are sensuous works. And both are wonderful to sing.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Requiem_(Duruflé)
The Requiem, op. 9, by Maurice Duruflé was commissioned in 1947 by the French music publisher Durand and is written in memory of the composer's father. The work is for mixed choir with mezzo-soprano and baritone soloists. It exists in three orchestrations: one for organ alone, one for organ with string orchestra, and one for organ and full orchestra.
At the time the commission arrived, Duruflé was working on an organ suite using themes from Gregorian chants. Duruflé incorporated his sketches for that work into the Requiem, which uses many themes from the Gregorian "Mass for the Dead." Nearly all the thematic material in the work comes from chant.
The work is set in nine movements. Interestingly, the Dies irae text, perhaps the most famous portion of the Requiem mass, is not set as a movement by itself as usual. Overall, however, Duruflé chose the calmer and more meditative texts from the requiem.
In the full score, the fifth movement, "Pie Jesu," has the only solo for the mezzo-soprano; in addition, even in the "organ-only" version of the Requiem, there is an obbligato cello solo. The baritone soloist has parts in the third movement, "Domine Jesu Christe," and the penultimate movement, "Libera me."
Duruflé left indications in the score that, for the baritone soloist at least, it was preferable to have the choir sing the solos instead. This has resulted in various forces being used in different recordings, some with both soloists, some with only the mezzo-soprano, and some (such as Robert Shaw's Telarc recording) using no soloists at all.
I've sung the baritone solo's of the Duruflé as well as the Fauré, and the Duruflé's solos, while short, are full of passion. Once, I had to do it while in the midst of the flu- and another singer couldn't be found, so, fool that I was at the time, I went on. That took some doing- hearing one's voice on the edge the whole time- not sure if it was going to collapse or not. Somehow, I got through it.
The Fauré? That is etched in my mind for another reason: I had my debut as a soloist singing it with the Westminster Choir in Spoleto Italy- the same day that my grandfather died- though I didn't know it at the time- though I knew the whole day that something was wrong. And I thought is was about the affair I was having with a wonderful man, who is alas, no longer on the planet. (Richard- if you are listening- your warmth, heart and passion, is remembered and treasured.)
Here is one of the movements of the Duruflé.
N6ySRRqe1ks