Abbey of Solesmes Celebrates 1000 Years

Ann Labounsky

Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought and Legacy of Charles Tournemire, edited by Jennifer Donelson and Stephen Schloesser. Church Music Association of America, P.O. Box 4344, Roswell, NM 88202 (musicasacra.com), 2014, $40.00, ISBN 978-0-9916452-0-6, 456 pages.

Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen by Stephen Schloesser. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2014, $40.00, ISBN 978-0-8028-0762-5, 572 pages.

 

These two new books present the results of academic research on Charles Tournemire and on the life and works of Olivier Messiaen. Through the efforts of Jennifer Donelson, the guiding light behind the academic outreach of the Church Music Association of America and the managing editor of Sacred Music (the official publication of the CMAA), there have been two conferences on Tournemire, the first in Miami in 2011 and the second in Pittsburgh in 2012. Mystic Modern is a reproduction of the papers given at the Miami and Pittsburgh conferences. Stephen Schloesser, author of Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen, is a Jesuit priest and professor of history at Loyola University, Chicago, and also the author of Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933. 

Mystic Modern was published in the summer of 2014 in time for the annual CMAA Colloquium in Indianapolis. Schloesser’s Messiaen book was also published in July 2014, coinciding with the American Guild of Organists’ national convention in Boston. Beyond the coincidence in publication dates, what is remarkable about the two books is the relationship between Tournemire and Messiaen. Tournemire influenced Messiaen to a much greater extent than is normally assumed; but Messiaen eclipsed his mentor by gaining greater fame during his lifetime. Book after book has been written about Messiaen, while Tournemire has remained in relative obscurity until fairly recently.

A first glance at both of these books reveals that there is much more to understand about Charles Tournemire and Olivier Messiaen than one can know only through a study of their musical scores. This “much more” element encompasses knowledge of the personal lives of the two men and the personal relationship between them. It also focuses on how history, culture, theology, literature, symbolism, and aesthetics affected them both. Mystic Modern and Visions of Amen are a must read not only for scholars or devotees of Tournemire and Messiaen, but for those interested in liturgy, music, and theology. Fortunately both books can be read in small sections, slowly and with the help of excellent indices. In the case of Visions of Amen, Messiaen’s important duo-piano work from 1943, a link to an audio recording of a live performance is included in the text.

Tournemire was certainly a modern composer who influenced Messiaen, Langlais, and many other 20th-century French composers. The extent of his “modernism” led many to dismiss his music as obtuse, and his mysticism certainly was another reason that many dismissed his music as unapproachable. Stephen Schloesser explains Tournemire’s “modernism” in his 2005 book, Jazz Age Catholicism:

Tournemire imagined the musical devices representing ‘passion’—chromaticism, polytonalism, and the perceived resulting ‘dissonance’—as the most appropriate material carriers of the ‘eternal’ and unchanging Latin forms. Images of dress abounded in ancient chants were imagined to be ‘clothed’ in ‘modern’ musical fashions.¹

The main Tournemire scholarship consists of a doctoral dissertation by Ruth Sisson, a picture book of photos by Ianco Pascal, and the notated catalogue of his works by Joël-Marie Fauquet from 1979.² Stephen Schloesser devotes a large part of Jazz Age Catholicism to the study of Tournemire. Lastly, Marie-Louise Langlais has published on the Internet portions of Tournemire’s Memoires that specifically address music (http://ml-langlais.com/Tournemire). The French journal L’Orgue is in the process of issuing the complete Tournemire Memoires. The editors of Mystic Modern had access to the complete version and quoted extensively from it in their essays, The Composer as Commentator: Music and Text in Tournemire’s Symbolist Method and How does Music Speak of God.

Charles Tournemire (1877–1939) died in the same year that I was born, and perhaps for this coincidence, I felt a special connection to this man. My first exposure to the “mystic modern” Tournemire was during the 1950s, in hearing my first organ teacher Paul Sifler play some of Tournemire’s music on several recitals. I remember the music sounded strange and exotic, like the music of Olivier Messiaen that Sifler played, which I, as a teenager, did not understand. It was later, as a pupil of Jean Langlais in Paris during the early 1960s, that I came to know Tournemire’s music in a different way. Langlais often played Tournemire’s music at Sainte-Clotilde on the organ that Tournemire knew and loved and often played the Eli, Eli, lamma sabacthani from the Sept Paroles of Tournemire. This blind teacher taught me the first movement and the last movement (Consummatum est) at Sainte-Clotilde during late Wednesday evenings in a dimly lit, empty church with the incomparable sounds of the Cavaillé-Coll organ. And he spoke about Tournemire as someone he knew well—little things about how he taught, how his personality was particularly quirky and unpredictable. He encouraged me to meet Tournemire’s second wife, Mme. Alice Tournemire, in her apartment—the apartment where her late husband had lived and taught. She read portions of his Memoires regarding the Symphonie-Choral, which I was planning to perform at Sainte-Clotilde. The more I played and heard Tournemire’s music, the more fascinated I became with it. His music was not instantly appealing; rather, it permeated my being slowly and compellingly.

 

Mystic Modern

The contents of Mystic Modern are divided into three sections, which develop the theme of Tournemire’s legacy as liturgical commentator, music inventor, and littéraire. In the preface, “Tournemire the Liturgical Commentator,” Donelson discusses Tournemire’s role as organist in the Roman Catholic Church and especially his place in the long line of composers incorporating Gregorian chant into both their composed works and their improvisations. 

 

The liturgical commentator

“The Organ as Liturgical Commentator—Some Thoughts, Magisterial and Otherwise” by Monsignor Andrew R. Wadsworth, begins with Wadsworth’s recollections of Messiaen’s improvisations during a Low Mass at La Trinité and then discusses the liturgical norms with an historical overview of the documents pertaining to them. He implores organists to follow Tournemire’s example in L’Orgue mystique: to improvise on the chants proper to each Sunday’s liturgy.

“Joseph Bonnet as a Catalyst in the Early-Twentieth-Century Gregorian Chant Revival,” by Susan Treacy, explains Bonnet’s decisive role in encouraging Tournemire to write L’Orgue mystique. Through explanations of Bonnet’s work as a liturgical organist in churches where he served, Treacy explains why Bonnet did not write any chant-based organ music. Although Bonnet was an abbot in the Benedictine order and was devoted to the propagation of Gregorian chant, he made a distinct difference between his published secular pieces for recital use and his improvised chant-based pieces for the liturgy. As a pupil of Charles Tournemire and fellow native of Bordeaux, Bonnet’s relationships with Dom Mocquereau and Justine Ward were also important in the founding of the Gregorian Institute. Even Bonnet’s church wedding, with a schola from the Gregorian Institute and with Tournemire as one of the organists, reflected his devotion to the propagation of Gregorian chant.

In “Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique and its Place in the Legacy of the Organ Mass,” Edward Schaefer gives an exhaustive summary of the development of the organ Mass, its specific usage in various countries, and the ecclesiastical documents governing organ Masses. A number of charts give illustrations of the use of the organ at the various parts of the Mass. There is a long list of the ecclesiastical ceremonials governing the use of music in the Mass and a chronological list of organ settings of the Mass. Schaefer concludes that with the renewed interest and practice of the Extraordinary form of the Mass, the practical use of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique is possible. This was demonstrated during the first Tournemire symposium. Some of the material is based on Schaefer’s dissertation from Catholic University.³

“Liturgy and Gregorian Chant in L’Orgue mystique of Charles Tournemire,” by Robert Sutherland Lord, was originally published in 1984 in The Organ Yearbook, edited by Peter Williams. The seminal importance of this article lies in Lord’s identification of all the chants from L’Orgue mystique and their origin, Tournemire’s original plan for the composition of the work, and the ways in which the composer departed from his plan in the choice of chants. The chants from the Liber Antiphonarius (Solesmes, 1897) were the sources of most of the chants that Tournemire used for the Elevation. This volume of chant is out of print, but Lord obtained a copy from the former assistant organist at Notre Dame, Paris, Pierre Moreau. Lord includes copies of these chants in the article.

In “The Twentieth-Century Franco-Belgian Art of Improvisation: Marcel Dupré, Charles Tournemire, and Flor Peeters,” Ronald Prowse discusses differences in techniques between written compositions and improvisations in the works of Dupré, Tournemire, and Flor Peeters and cites musical examples from the chant Ave Maris Stella. Using works by those three composers, Prowse deftly compares the techniques that all three of them used in treating the same chant. He often cites his own experiences studying improvisation with Pierre Toucheque, who had been a pupil of Peeters. He often quotes Tournemire, from his book on improvisation, Précis d’exécution, de registration et d’improvisation à l’orgue, stating that a master improviser creates illusions.⁴ The issue of the difference between written composition and improvisation echoes throughout this collection of essays and remains in some ways an unanswered question.

 

The musical inventor

Prowse’s essay leads logically into the second section, “Tournemire the Musical Inventor,” which deals with Tournemire’s musical language, including his choice and sense of tempo—as well as his compositional process and impact, not merely on the Sainte-Clotilde school, but on modern French organ repertoire in general. 

In his essay “Performance Practice for the Organ Music of Charles Tournemire,” Timothy Tikker describes his lessons with Langlais and Langlais’s reports of his study with Tournemire. Tikker’s account matched what I had learned from Langlais, including the story of Langlais’s meeting with Tournemire and the invitation to become the latter’s successor at Sainte-Clotilde. The two works Tikker analyzes in detail regarding interpretation (No. 7 from L’Orgue mystique, Epiphania Domini, and Mulier, ecce filius tuus, Ecce Mater tua, from Sept Chorals-Poèmes, op. 67) were pieces that I also had studied with Langlais, and I agree with his conclusions. Tikker gives detailed graphs with measure numbers indicated and, in some places, metronome markings. Of particular interest in this essay is Tikker’s extensive discussion of the Sainte-Clotilde organ. Tournemire’s specific registrations in L’Orgue mystique include the use of sub couplers and the term petites mixtures, which indicates soft mutation stops such as gamba with a nazard. It is interesting to note that Tournemire played all of L’Orgue mystique on his nine-stop house organ, regrettably never at Sainte-Clotilde. Tikker quotes this specification from Tournemire’s Précis. One of Tikker’s particularly insightful points is his comparison of German Romantic organs and their influence on the compositions of Reger and Karg-Elert, which used the full organ in the lower registers, and Tournemire’s use of full organ that was based on the “treble-ascendant voicing for its success.”⁵

“Catalogue of Charles Tournemire’s ‘Brouillon’ [Rough Sketches] for L’Orgue mystique BNF, Mus., Ms. 19929,” by Robert Sutherland Lord, is the result of Lord’s studying the 1,282 pages of rough sketches of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique found in the Bibliothèque Nationale after Lord had written an extensive article on this seminal work of Tournemire. From these sketches Lord was able to determine the exact date of each office and how Tournemire departed from his original plan. Lord’s conclusion stated: 

 

After having completed the manuscript catalogue, we can verify that the “Rough Sketches” document—in sharp contrast to the “Plan” considered in my 1984 study—is far more than a mere framework for L’Orgue mystique. The “Rough Sketches” provide the harmonies, the rhythms, and the paraphrases for forty-two of the fifty-one offices. The BNF Ms. 19929 remains the only evidence we have of Tournemire’s musical preparation for any organ work he composed.⁶

From the harmonic and rhythmic details of Tournemire’s plan for L’Orgue mystique, Bogusław Raba’s article, “Creating a Mystical Musical Eschatology: Diatonic and Chromatic Dialectic in Charles Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique” continues the discussion of the conflict between the diatonic and chromatic dialectic in Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique. Raba uses the term dialectic as follows: 

 

Tournemire’s musical poetics in L’Orgue mystique are constructed by means of a dialectical process of diatonic and chromatic textures. This procedure (along with its symbolic functions) seems to be inherited from the Romantic Liszt-Franck tradition and is used in the service of a large narrative formal structure.⁷

Raba equates diatonicism with “eternal peace” and chromaticism with emotional “passion.” For Raba, the melding of these two elements creates pandiatonic textures, which he believes are Tournemire’s legacy to Messiaen. Finally, Raba confesses that Tournemire’s style goes beyond any structural system, and he calls this a “mystical musical eschatology.” Raba makes interesting parallels between Tournemire’s use of dissonance and that of Scriabin and earlier composers such as Frescobaldi in the Elevations from his organ Masses.

Raba’s observations on dissonance from the numinous leads into the next essay, “From the ‘Triomphe de l’Art Modal’ to The Embrace of Fire: Charles Tournemire’s Gregorian Chant Legacy, Received and Refracted by Naji Hakim” by Crista Miller. Miller’s article locates Middle Eastern elements and Arabic improvisation (taqasim) present in Hakim’s organ works with common elements with Tournemire’s Sitio (I thirst) from the Sept Paroles and Hakim’s Embrace of Fire. Miller compares these techniques with Langlais’s Soleil du Soir. She also probes the creative process of these composers. Were they aware of the techniques that they were using? In interviews with Hakim, she explains that Hakim claimed that his process was “subconscious”—in other words, he was not consciously aware that he was using a particular technique, so much was it a part of his psyche.

I had also asked this question regarding synthetic and octatonic scales with both Langlais and Daniel Lesur, both of whom reported that they were unaware that they were using these scales. The question of awareness is one that pervades our study of these composers’ works and is especially relevant to their improvisations. Miller also examines the specialized use of the Vox humana in works by Tournemire, Langlais, and Hakim.

Miller and Vincent E. Rone both discuss the use of octatonic and synthetic scales in their complementary writings. Rone’s essay “From Tournemire to Vatican II: Harmonic Symmetry as Twentieth-Century French Catholic Musical Mysticism, 1928–1970” focuses on the means by which Tournemire, Duruflé, and Langlais expressed Catholic musical mysticism and, in the case of the two younger composers, the ways in which they did so in response to their frustrations during the period of the Vatican II council. Rone concentrates on the use of octatonic and whole-tone scale patterns in the three composers’ music; he uses examples from the final pieces in Tournemire’s Nativitas and Resurrectionis offices. As examples of post-Vatican II disillusionment, Rone cites Duruflé’s Messe ‘Cum Jubilo’ and Langlais’s Imploration pour la croyance, referring to the former as privileging the Ordinary’s “transcendent and eschatological imagery through harmonic symmetry and stasis, combining a synthetic scale with subtle linear unfolding of two whole-tone collections, third-related, and bitonal harmonies.”⁸ In the latter, however, the expression is pure anger. Rone refers to Ruth Sisson’s dissertation and the discussion of the “Tournemire chord,” which employs a C#-major triad with a G-major 6/3 chord over it. The musical examples are particularly helpful to the reader in understanding these compositional and aesthetic concepts. 

 

The littОraire

The final section, “Tournemire the Littéraire,” deals with the literary aspect of Tournemire’s music and dwells on the relationship of the symbolic character of Tourmemire’s musical “commentaries” (and the legacy of this role in Messiaen’s oeuvre). It also includes Charles Tournemire’s obtuse and convoluted language in his biography of Franck. Finally, it analyzes Tournemire and Messiaen’s shared inspiration, drawn from Ernest Hello’s writings and Tournemire’s eschatological reading of history. The editors took great care with the ordering of the essays to provide cohesion to the book, and the end of each essay includes a summary. 

Stephen Schloesser’s first essay, “The Composer as Commentator: Music and Text in Tournemire’s Symbolist Method,” shows the importance of the texts in Dom Guéranger’s L’Année liturgique to Tournemire. So what then is this symbolist method? Schloesser describes it simply as “ . . . an essential relationship between a work and the literary text upon which it is based.”⁹ And he further states: 

 

For the symbolists, realism, naturalism, and positivism evacuated human existence of any mystery, fantasy, imagination, or dream world. In opposition to the positivists’ exclusive privileging of the visible, Symbolists gave pride of place to the invisible.¹⁰

 

As has been stated, Schloesser’s research on Tournemire was first published in Jazz Age Catholicism (2005). As a historian with appealing linguistic, writing, and musical skills, Schloesser has a gift of getting behind the events he is describing and going to the heart of their meaning. Here Schloesser shows how the literary texts in Guéranger’s L’Année liturgique directly inspired L’Orgue mystique. Schloesser hand-copied one example from Guéranger’s work—the Introit for the Feast of the Assumption—to demonstrate this important link between the text and the music. (It is possible to study the entire Guéranger work hand in hand with L’Orgue mystique and easily follow the plan for the entire work.) The important point is that the music is a commentary or a paraphrase of the linguistic text. All the tone painting and symbols that Tournemire uses are related to the texts, and it is important to study the texts first. Lest there be any confusion, Schloesser quotes Tournemire’s preface, which clearly states: “ . . . plainchant is, in sum, freely paraphrased for each piece in the flow of the works forming this collection.”¹¹ 

Schloesser then contrasts Messiaen’s straightforward use of textual references in all his organ works and explains how Messiaen was indebted to Tournemire for this example. Schloesser subsequently refers to numerous recital programs of Tournemire in which the term paraphrase is used in the program. The notion of symbolism, for Schloesser, comes from Tournemire’s models, Claude Debussy and Richard Wagner. Evidence of Tournemire’s deep involvement in the symbolist movement is carefully presented in the next six pages. Schloesser documents examples of Tournemire’s extensive use of the Wagnerian style of leitmotif, with the chant Ego Dormivi, the antiphon from Holy Saturday based on Psalm 3, used in ten of the L’Orgue mystique offices. Schloesser goes beyond what others have previously explained regarding Tournemire’s use of this leitmotif, relating the composer’s decision both to personal and professional circumstances. Schloesser refers to other music programs and cites the texts that Tournemire used to plan those programs. Particularly moving is the intent behind his concert at the church of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul in 1932, which opened with a tribute to Leon Boëllmann, the deceased organist of the church. The program is a good example of Tournemire’s manner of presenting an organ recital; it included three selections from L’Orgue mystique with explanations of the importance of the texts behind them. Tournemire’s choice of works by other composers showed his sense of his place in history alongside Bonnet, a musicologist (Bonnet was editor of the multi-volume set of Historical Organ-Recitals), a symbolist, and a truly modern composer. Also touching was Schloesser’s description of the reasons for Tournemire’s choice of themes for the last office of this great work and his four-year struggle to complete it. It is clear in studying Schloesser’s excellent essay that any serious student of L’Orgue mystique must become intimately acquainted with Guéranger’s 15-volume pivotal work, which is available in several English translations.

Again, acknowledging the superb manner in which this book is organized, it is appropriate that Elizabeth McLain’s Messiaen-oriented essay “Messiaen’s L’Ascension: Musical Illumination of Spiritual Texts After the Model of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique” follows that of Schloesser, whose discussion of Messiaen’s early life and influences in Visions of Amen is also covered in this review. McLain’s main point is that Tournemire’s use of commentaries on sacred texts in his compositions profoundly influenced Messiaen, but that unlike Tournemire, Messiaen’s quest was to take music inspired by sacred texts out of the church and into the concert hall. McLain’s essay explains that this early opus of Messiaen had its birth as an orchestral work, premiered in Paris before he had arranged it for organ. McLain gives many musical examples from the orchestral version of the work and clear structural and harmonic analyses of the entire work.

“Desperately Seeking Franck: Tournemire and D’Indy as Biographers” by R. J. Stove is the shortest of all the essays, but it is a fascinating comparison between Tournemire and D’Indy’s biographies of Franck. Anyone who has read any of Tournemire’s own writings can certainly agree with Stove’s description of Tournemire’s writing style as an “exotic jungle.” And further, “His high-flown French is a burden to imitate in any other language, let alone a language which lays as much stress on understatement, irony, and clarity as modern English usually does.”¹² Stove’s critical assessment of the two biographers, themselves students of Franck, explains much about the differences in their personalities and a possible jealousy on the part of Tournemire toward D’Indy, on account of the differences in the successes of their respective careers and their relationship to Franck. D’Indy had known Franck for two decades, while Tournemire had known him for only two years.

In her essay, “How Does Music Speak of God? A Dialogue of Ideas between Messiaen, Tournemire, and Hello,” Jennifer Donelson compares in great depth the approaches to addressing God through music in the writings of Tournemire, Messiaen, and the mystic writer from Brittany, Ernest Hello (1828–1885). She explains how the writings of Hello, particularly his 1872 work L’Homme: La Vie—La Science—L’Art, “encapsulates an understanding that was friendly to the Symbolist and anti-positivist tendencies of both composers.”¹³ Hello’s influences on Tournemire are found in Tournemire’s writings, particularly in his unpublished memoirs and correspondence between the two composers. Donelson explains with great care the differences in philosophy between Messiaen, seeking a perfect expression of the Catholic faith, and that of Tournemire. In conclusion she sums up the answer to the title of her essay in quoting Hello:

In a “clear vision of the role of the Catholic faith in art and culture, Hello saw spiritual realities as more real than material (indeed, as their source) and concluded that, for art to be truly beautiful or ‘sincere,’ the artist must have a clear vision of the world as redeemed by God with the Incarnate Christ at the center of God’s plan for salvation.”¹⁴

Peter Bannister’s essay, “Charles Tournemire and the ‘Bureau of Eschatology’” explains the meaning of eschatology in the historical context of the first half of the twentieth century in France. Bannister quotes frequently from the 20th-century Swiss Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar. The author’s reference to “Bureau of Eschatology” refers to Balthasar’s quote from Troeltsch’s dictum, “The bureau of eschatology is usually closed,” explaining that “this was true enough of the liberalism of the nineteenth century, but since the turn of the century the office has been working overtime.”¹⁵ Bannister explains the notion of life as a progression from darkness to light, often quoting from Léon Bloy, the French agnostic who converted to a strict form of Roman Catholicism, and Tournemire’s unpublished memoirs, and symphonies. Bannister laments the paucity of writings about Tournemire, citing the lack of primary source material. Bannister does not mention that this problem will soon be rectified; a forthcoming issue of the French review L’Orgue will be devoted to the difficult and highly secretive diary of Tournemire, Memoires.

I, for one, am not as pessimistic as Bannister when he states: “The likelihood is that for years to come, Tournemire will sadly continue to be regarded as an obscure figure outside the (dwindling) organ world . . . ”¹⁶ The two Tournemire conferences and these essays belie his conclusion. Consider that such composers as Bach, Mendelssohn, Rheinberger, and Langlais were less appreciated during their lifetimes than after their deaths, and certainly today they are not considered as “obscure figures.” 

Tennille Shuster’s cover, a surrealistic picture of the front of the Basilica of Sainte-Clotilde with dramatic reddish-brown clouds in the background, reflects the book’s mystical nature. The typeface and illustrations are exquisitely reproduced. 

Drs. Donelson and Schloesser are to be commended on the physical beauty of the book and the depth of scholarship that the book represents.

 

Visions of Amen

Messiaen’s Visions de l’Amen is an esoteric, extremely difficult seven-movement work for two pianists at two separate pianos, and its difficulty lies both in its technical demands (requiring extremes in dynamic range and tessitura) and in its obscure symbolism (which deals with astrology, theology, angels, saints, and birds). In the biographical aspect of this latest book on the early life of Messiaen, Stephen Schloesser develops the themes surrounding the composer’s connections with the mystic Charles Tournemire. 

The driving force behind the book came from Schloesser’s collaboration with pianists Hyesook Kim (Calvin College) and Stéphane Lemelin (University of Ottawa), with whom Schloesser received a $5,000 grant from the Calvin Center for Christian Scholarship for a project entitled “Olivier Messiaen’s Religious Perspective and Performance of Visions of l’Amen.” In 2004–2005 the two pianists performed the work at a number of locations in the U.S. and Canada, with Schloesser giving lecture notes on the work and Messiaen’s life. Their original plan was to produce a compact disc with liner notes written by Schloesser. The Messiaen centennial in 2008, however, yielded a plethora of new material for Schloesser, and the project subsequently grew into the present book format, with a link to the audio recording on the Internet. A detailed analysis of the work with timings from the recording makes it possible to follow the work without the score.

The title of the book leads one to believe that Schloesser focuses on the early life and music of this composer. But the extent and depth of the material goes far beyond a discussion of Messiaen’s early years. Schloesser examines Messiaen’s entire life, giving explanations of literary, symbolist, surrealist, mystical, and theological forces that inspired his compositions. In many of Messiaen’s biographies and his own writings, the writers Paul Éluard, Dom Columba Marmion, and Ernest Hello are mentioned, but Schloesser goes farther with extensive quotations from these authors, showing their influence on Messiaen’s music. For example, in the discussion of Messiaen’s Nativity of the Lord (1935), Messiaen frequently quotes Marmion’s book Christ in His Mysteries:

 

But the main reason for keeping alive such feelings within us is our status as children of God. The Divine Sonship of the Father’s only-begotten is of the essence and eternal. But, in an infinitely free act of love, the Father has willed to add a sonship, a childship, of grace.¹⁷ 

Schloesser divides the book into four sections. The first, dealing with Messiaen’s parents, Pierre Messiaen and Cécile Sauvage, covers 1883–1930. This section can be read by itself without reference to Messiaen’s compositions as an introduction to the psychological underpinnings of his personality. Part two, “Budding Rhythmician, Surrealist Composer, Mystical Commentator: 1927–1932,” continues this psychological approach and discusses in some detail his earliest works. The third part, “Theological Order, Glorified Bodies, Apocalyptic Epoch, 1932–1943,” delves into a detailed description and analysis of Visions of Amen. For musicians, a study of Messiaen’s score is helpful, but even without the score, Schloesser gives a detailed analysis of each movement, with timings from the recording in an appendix. Part four, “Legacy, 1943–1992,” includes a discussion of Messiaen’s last work: Et Exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum. Throughout the book, Schloesser’s use of extensive footnotes on the same page as the text is helpful. The appendix of scriptural references is logical and welcomed.

The recording by pianists Kim and Lemelin is of high quality, with a wide range of dynamics and tessituras. This is a work that Messiaen and his second wife Yvonne Loriod played together frequently, and it is dedicated to her. Much of Messiaen’s piano music is extremely difficult technically and demands the utmost in coordination between the two performers here on two pianos. One could wish that a compact disc had been included with the book, so that one could listen to the performance without using a computer.

But even if the reader has no interest in this difficult piano work, composed during the darkest period of World War II when Paris was occupied by the Nazis, there is more than enough material about Messiaen’s personal life and that of his parents to engage the reader. It is well known that Messiaen’s mother was a poetesse; the drama of her life and the struggles she endured with her husband Pierre is explained in great detail. In the introduction, Schloesser explains his approach as a “history of emotion.” In this age of a “confessional” approach to biography, it is impressive how Schloesser combines very personal material with scholarly writing.

Visions of Amen can be read on two levels: first, theological—the birth of creation, the passion of Christ, angels, saints, birdsong, judgment; and second, as a personal statement of Messiaen’s love for Yvonne Loriod. In general, “Amen” signifies “So be it,” but for Messiaen and other French composers, it was also a code name for an expression of love. This code reference using his second mode of limited transposition is also found frequently in Messiaen’s Turangalila Symphony and throughout Messiaen’s oeuvre. 

 

Notes

1. Stephen Schloesser, Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), 281.

2. Ruth Sisson, “The Symphonic Organ Works of Charles Arnould Tournemire” (Ph.D. dissertation, Florida State University, 1984). Ianco Pascal, Charles Tournemire ou le mythe de Tristan (Geneva, Editions Papillon, 2001). Pascal knew Madame Odile Weber, the niece of Tournemire’s second wife Alice Tournemire, who shared many of her photographs with him. Joël Marie Fauquet, Catalogue de l’œuvre de Charles Tournemire (Geneva, Minkoff, 1979).

3. Edward Schaefer, “The Relationship Between the Liturgy of the Roman Rite and the Italian Organ Literature of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries” (Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1985).

4. Charles Tournemire, Précis d’exécution, de registration et d’improvisation à l’orgue (Paris, LeMoine, 1936).

5. Tikker, in Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought and Legacy of Charles Tournemire, edited by Jennifer Donelson and Stephen Schloesser (Church Music Association of America, 2014), 131. 

6. Lord, in Mystic Modern, 137.

7. Raba, in Mystic Modern, 186.

8. Rone, in Mystic Modern, 230.

9. Schloesser, in Mystic Modern, 266.

10. Ibid., 267.

11. Ibid., 257.

12. Stove, in Mystic Modern, 312.

13. Donelson, in Mystic Modern, 317.

14. Ibid., 318.

15. Hans Urs von Balthasar, “Some Points of Eschatology” in Explorations in Theology, Vol. I: The Word Made Flesh (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1964), p. 255, translated by Bannister. 

16. Bannister, in Mystic Modern, p. 352.

17. Stephen Schloesser, Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), p. 230.

 

Ann Labounsky earned a Ph.D. in musicology from the University of Pittsburgh, an M.Mus. from the University of Michigan studying with Marilyn Mason, and a B.Mus. from the Eastman School of Music, studying with David Craighead. She studied in Paris with André Marchal and Jean Langlais on a Fulbright Grant and holds diplomas from the Schola Cantorum and Ecole Normale. Author of the biography Jean Langlais: the Man and His Music (Amadeus Press, 2000), she recorded the complete organ works of Jean Langlais for the Musical Heritage Society (reissued on the Voix du Vent label) and narrated and performed in a DVD of his life based on this biography, a project sponsored by the Los Angeles AGO Chapter. Labounsky is chair of organ and sacred music at Duquesne University, active in the American Guild of Organists, the National Pastoral Musicians, and the Church Music Association of America, and serves as organ artist in residence at First Lutheran Church, Pittsburgh. 

An interview with Elise Cambon, organist of New Orleans’ St. Louis Cathedral for 62 years

Marijim Thoene

Marijim Thoene received the DMA in Church Music/Organ Performance from the University of Michigan. She is currently organist at Church of the Immaculate Conception, “The Jesuit,” on Baronne Street, in New Orleans, and is an active recitalist.<span style=&quot;mso-spacerun:yes&quot;> </span>Her CD, “Mystics and Spirits,” recorded at St.
Joseph Abbey in St. Benedict, Louisiana, has recently been released by Raven
Recordings.

Elise Cambon, affectionately called "The First Lady of Sacred
Music," is a living legend in New Orleans. This spirited woman, who calls
herself a tiger, was born in New Orleans in 1917. Her accomplishments in church
music read like an entry in Who's Who in America normal'>; a summary of her life's work will be published in the 2004 edition.
She graduated from Newcomb College, part of Tulane University, in 1939. Her
first organ lessons began in 1939 with Ferdinand Dunkley, a graduate of the
Royal School of Church Music, a professor at Loyola and organist/choirmaster at
St. Charles Ave. Presbyterian Church. A pivotal moment occurred in her life
when she was playing as a substitute organist for a Boy Scout Mass at the St.
Louis Cathedral in 1941. As she played Widor's Toccata
style='font-style:normal'> as a postlude, Archbishop Rummel decided to offer
her the position of cathedral organist. As she is fond of saying "Timing
is everything." (See photos
#1 and #2 taken shortly after she became cathedral organist, dated 1944, 1946.)

While cathedral organist she taught music at the Ursuline Academy 1942-1951,
at the Ursuline College 1949-1951, and at the Louise McGhee School for Girls
1953-1961. (See photo #3 taken with choir from McGhee School, dated 1958.) She
was the founder and first Dean of the New Orleans Chapter of the AGO in 1942.

She received a Master of Music degree in organ performance in 1947 from the
University of Michigan where she studied wtih Palmer Christian. She continued
organ studies with Arthur Poister at Oberlin College and Syracuse University.
Throughout her tenure as organist at the cathedral she conducted choral
concerts and played organ recitals to a packed house. Photo #4 dated March 23,
1952, taken after one of her cathedral concerts shows from left to right Norman
Bell, Most Reverend Joseph Francis Rummel, Elise Cambon and Reverend Father
Robert Stahl, S.M.

In 1951-1953 she attended the Hochschule für Musik in Frankfurt as a
Fulbright fellow and studied organ with Helmut Walcha, harpsichord with Maria
Jaeger and conducting with Kurt Thomas. After her Fulbright she spent summers
studying Gregorian chant at the Benedictine Abbey of Solesmes and at Pius X
School of Liturgical Music in Purchase, New York. In 1959 she was invited to
teach at Loyola University and received a grant to found the School of
Liturgical Music. (See photo #5 showing, from left to right, the Rev. C. J.
McNaspy, S.J. dean of the College of Music, Frederick W. Salmen, president of
the foundation, and Elise Cambon receiving grant to found the School of
Liturgical Music at Loyola University.)

Not only did she obtain grants for two Holtkamp organs, but also funds to
install air conditioning in the practice rooms. She founded the New Orleans
Bach Oratorio Society in 1959. She earned her Ph.D. in musicology from Tulane
University in 1975 and was awarded first prize in musicological research from
Mu Phi Epsilon International Music Society for her dissertation "The
Italian and Latin Lauda of the 15th-century." She retired from teaching at
Loyola in 1982. Photo #6 shows Elise Cambon at the organ console in St. Louis
Cathedral taken the year she retired from Loyola University.

She received grants and raised funds for the St. Louis Cathedral Choir to go
on "Pilgrimages," to sing five concerts in Europe, England and
Ireland from 1987-1998. In 1987 she took the Cathedral Choir on a concert tour
to Italy and France and performed in Rome, Assisi, Florence and Paris. In 1991
the Cathedral Choir sang concerts in Austria, Czechoslovakia and Hungary. And
in 1994 she directed the Cathedral Choir as it performed in Spain and
Portugal. Her last two
"Pilgrimages" with the choir were in England in 1996 and in Ireland
in 1998. In England the choir sang at
St. Martin-in-the Fields, Clifton Cathedral, Westminster Cathedral, Ely
Cathedral, Canterbury Cathedral and St. George's in Bloomsbury (London). In
1989 she became coordinator of five choirs plus a brass ensemble from the
Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra for "One Shell Square" for Christmas
concerts, which she continues to do.

These are the facts of her life, a life dedicated to learning, teaching and
performing music. It was a great privilege to interview Elise Cambon and hear
her tell of the forces that shaped her remarkable life. She describes in her
own words her life, her ambition, her passion for learning, teaching,
conducting and playing Bach, her life devoted to church music. Photo #7 shows,
from left to right, Marijim Thoene and Elise Cambon at Dr. Cambon's home on
July 3, 2003.

M.T. Tell me about growing up in New Orleans.

E.C. I was born February 27, 1917,
at home at 2004 Napoleon Avenue. My father's name was Maurice Cornelius Cambon
and my mother was Marie Camilia Murray Cambon, called "Camille." My
two sisters, Marie and Camille, were twins and were born on the feast day of
St. Cecilia on November 22, patron saint of music. They were fun to be around.

M.T. Do you remember about your first piano lessons? Did you have to
practice a lot? Did you want to practice?

E.C. Did I want to practice?! That
was when I got to Europe. I don't remember taking piano lessons until I was in
Europe and came back to the States.

M.T. Did your father get to see you conduct and play?

E.C. Oh, no. Things went bad. We
went to Europe when I was eight years old in 1925 and stayed until about 1930.
While we were in Europe, my father
rented a piano, and we started lessons with Albert Leveque, an
understudy of Cortot of the Paris Conservatory. In the meantime we also had a
French governess and she taught us French. She took care that we practiced the
piano and studied lessons in French. We studied mostly grammar and science,
natural science. We spoke only French. We were not allowed to speak a word of
English.

M.T. Did you have to compete with your sisters for practice time on the
piano?

E.C. No, I was on that piano bench
before any of them. I respected Monsieur Leveque and he liked me too, because I
could memorize anything that he wanted us to learn. My sisters liked the
keyboard, but not as much as I did. I was always on the piano. Everyday we were
assigned certain hours to practice the piano and to study French. The lady who
taught us French knew enough about the piano that she could supervise. My
teacher would play something and I would learn it from memory right away.

M.T. When you got back from Paris did you speak English?

E.C. Yes, but we were encouraged to
converse in French. We brought back a French governess. She stayed with us
until I was 13. Then I was sent to the Sacred Heart Academy, and I studied
Latin.

M.T. Was it really strict at the Academy? You had to work very hard?

E.C. Oh, yes. You see we lost all of
our money by that time. We lost it in 1929 in the Great Depression. In 1930 my
uncles committed suicide. They both owned the Cambon Real Estate Corporation,
and were grief stricken that so many people had lost money and there was no way
to repay it.

M.T. What did you study at Newcomb?

E.C. At Newcomb I majored in French
for the simple reason that it was easy for me. I didn't have to work on it. And
I had three positions: I had an NRA job with the government, I taught children
piano lessons every Saturday and I baby sat for them in the evening when
needed. I was able to pay my school tuition by means of this extra employment.

M.T. Where did you teach?

E.C. I taught the children of
professors in their homes. Sometimes they would bring me home, or I would take
the streetcar if it wasn't too late. It wasn't dangerous in those days like it
is today.

M.T. When did you start playing the organ?

E.C. My sister Marie sang at the
Church of the Immaculate Conception, "the Jesuit," on Baronne St.,
and Claire Coci was then the director. When I heard Claire play I was very
impressed. The next time I saw her
was when she was at Oberlin in Ohio. At that time I had already finished my
master's degree at Michigan where I studied with Palmer Christian. I stayed at
Michigan two and a half years. I studied with Arthur Poister at Oberlin one
summer, and I thought he was very good. Then he moved to Syracuse University
and I studied again with him.

M.T. Did you take lessons from Claire Coci at the Jesuit?

E.C. No, I never took lessons there.

M.T. When did you start taking organ lessons?

E.C. I started with an Englishman
here by the name of Ferdinand Dunkley who was organist at St. Charles Ave.
Presbyterian Church. He had a degree from the Royal School of Church Music and
was very, very smart. I studied a lot with him, and I got to the point that I
could play the Trois Chorals by Franck. So, he was my first organ teacher.

M.T. How old were you when you started organ?

E.C. About 22. I had lessons with
him for a long time. And I liked him very much, he was a genuinely fine man.
Then I went to the Loyola College of Music to study theory and other things at
night--Gregorian chant. Fr. Callans taught me that. He had studied at Solesmes.

M.T. What attracted you to the organ?

E.C. Claire Coci. I thought she was
a stunning performer. She was very dramatic. She made that organ sing. I'm not
saying that I wanted to play that way, but I love Bach very much. You can make
Bach's music sing. But so many people think Bach should be played in a very
strict manner; playing it so strictly causes it to lose all of its spirit. When
I went to Ann Arbor I started doing Bach. I love Bach and earlier composers--de
Grigny, Couperin, etc.

M.T. What do you think is the most valuable information Palmer Christian
taught you? What do you treasure most from his lessons?

E.C. Well, Palmer Christian
impressed me by his dignity. He was a gentleman to the core. He played at the
English Church in Paris before he came back to the United States. He truly was
a highly refined man. He meant business. He wasn't mean, just very dignified.

M.T. And you had a lesson
every week from him?

E.C. Oh, yes.

M.T. Did he have studio classes where the students would play for each
other?

E.C. Yes, once a week. I remember
playing the Bach D Major Prelude and Fugue.

M.T. What did he tell you to do to handle stage fright?

E.C. Stage fright? I was never
afraid.

M.T. You were never nervous?

E.C. I always thought I could be
better. But I never felt nervous. I never played when I thought I didn't know a
piece. I'd better know it, or I wouldn't play it.

M.T. When did you begin directing choirs?

E.C. At the cathedral, I had a boy
choir. They were cute as buttons. I would rehearse them one half hour before
the Mass out in the garden in front of the cathedral.

M.T. How old were you when you started directing the choir at the
cathedral?

E.C. It was before I got through
Newcomb. I think I was 24, maybe it was 1941. I was playing for a Boy Scout
Mass and Archbishop Rummel was there. It was the first time the archbishop had
heard me play. I played the Widor Toccata and the archbishop said
to the priest, "Who is playing that organ today? I want to meet the
performer." The man who had been organist was ill, and when he was unable
to return I was offered the job. I was there 62 years this past year.

M.T. What were the biggest challenges you faced as organist/choir
director?

E.C. Following the edicts of Vatican
II. The people were encouraged to sing the Ordinary of the Mass. The goal was
to have the people understand what was going on at the altar.

M.T. What was it like to study at Pope Pius X School of Liturgical Music
in NY?

E.C. It was wonderful. I got to know
my teacher, Dom Gajard, a visiting Benedictine monk from Solesmes.
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> When the Gregorian Chant Choir of Spain
sang at the cathedral in January, 2003 to celebrate the Louisiana Purchase, I
discovered that the conductor of the choir had studied with Dom Gajard and had
met me in the 1950s.

When I had finished studying in Germany on a Fulbright grant in 1953, the
Archbishop wrote me, "You've been studying enough in Protestant
churches. I want you to go to
Solesmes." And he paid my way. I stayed there for six weeks. I was really
impressed, people were serious, they really tried to learn. I went to Pius X
each summer for four years. Every time I had a vacation I went there. I studied
with Mother Morgan and there was another nun who taught how to conduct chant.
We sang chant in the Mass everyday.

M.T. What led you to teach at Loyola University?

E.C. I had been in Europe on a
Fullbright and I met Fr. McNasby. He said, wouldn't you like to teach music and
Gregorian chant at Loyola University? Fr. McNasby invited me to teach
liturgical music. He invited me to teach summer school.

M.T. Why did you decide to work on a Ph.D. in musicology?

E.C. I decided if I was going to
teach music history I had to have a fine understanding of the development of
music, from its origin in Gregorian chant to the present. So I took classes all
during the winter time. I took classes in Renaissance, etc., but chant I studied
at Solesmes. In chant stress was determined by the accent of the text. It was
like dancing, and I liked that.

M.T. Why did you decide to write a dissertation on the Italian and Latin
lauda of the 15th century?

E.C. Well, I loved Latin and I
studied Italian for a couple of summers in college. I had had four years of
Latin in high school and college. I didn't like the music particularly. I did
it because I had done so much work with the lauda when I studied
early music. I had a lot of material on it.

M.T. How did you survive working under five archbishops?

E.C. I got along with them like two
peas in a pod. Archbishop Rummel treated me just like a daughter. The next was
Cody. He stayed only two years and so I have a short remembrance of him and I
think the one who followed him was Archbishop Hannan. He was a very genteel
man. He got along with people, and most people liked him very much. He couldn't
carry a tune in a bucket. And so there was no relationship that way. But he was
always nice to me and he respected my way. I loved also Archbishop Schulte, he
was a great guy. When he was archbishop the cathedral ceased being operated by
an order of missionary priests to a single rector. Fr. Hedrich was the first
rector of the cathedral and became a monsignor later. When Archbishop Schulte
introduced me to the new rector, Fr. Hedrich, the Archbishop told Fr. Hedrich,
"Now you're the liturgist, don't forget that, but Dr. Cambon is the
musician. When it comes to music she is the musician." And he meant it. He
respected my knowledge of first-class religious music. And I like very much
this new bishop, Moran, the one that was just made a bishop.

M.T. What would be your advice to any young person thinking about going
into church music?

E.C. I would say to them go to the
church and perform for a church that really believes in God. Do it for God
because you love the music. God deserves the best. However people are very
important and you shouldn't be a cantankerous individual and if you can't get
along, get out. And then I would say if you respect the people you work for,
never talk about them, never call them down to other people. As long as I have
been at the cathedral I have never had a priest under an archbishop that I
couldn't find something very rewarding about them. But you do run into
characters, and that you can't help, because everybody is different and maybe
they don't agree with the music you like. Try to be in a place where you can do
the music you like without any arguments.

M.T. Do you have any regrets?

E.C. None.

M.T. How did you build up the choir at St. Louis Cathedral?

E.C. I started out as the organist
in 1940 and then I had a boy choir. The man who trained the boy choir became
ill; his name was Roland Boisvert. After he left the cathedral he became organist
at St. Joseph's Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in St. Benedict, Louisiana, a
short distance from New Orleans. They saw how loyal I was at St. Louis
Cathedral. I was always there for the evening services. I was playing weddings,
and working my tail off, trying to keep up. I had to train the boys to sing the
Mass on Holy Days. And I would say to them. "All right kids I want to see
you Sunday morning at 7 o'clock and we will go over the Mass so that you will
be good." And they came very religiously and on Friday morning we had Mass
and do you know some of those kids became priests of the order of Mary
Immaculate. They were the order that was at the cathedral. They are missionary
priests.

M.T. Did you rehearse them everyday?

E.C. I would rehearse them at lunch
time. They would come in from playing ball to rehearse the music. They would
prepare the music for the Mass they were planning to sing on the first Friday
of the month and on some Holy Days. After the rehearsal I would throw up as
many pennies as I had on me to give them a reward for coming, and do you know
one of them is now a priest, Rev. Msgr. Ignatius M. Roppolo at St. Rita's in
New Orleans. The oblates of Mary Immaculate had a school and the boys in the
choir came from that school.

M.T. When did you begin directing the adult choir?

E.C. It grew out of the school
choirs I was directing and the girl choir that Fr. Lorengan directed. When Fr.
Lorengan retired I was given both choirs to direct. I had just begun teaching
at Ursuline Academy and some of the kids from there wanted to come over and
sing. And eventually we got some men. They came from Loyola University. Some of
the girls brought some boys they knew from Jesuit High School.

M.T. So the adult choir at the cathedral came from other choirs you had
trained. Did you pay them?

E.C. No, no indeed.

M.T. When the choir grew, did you pay the singers?

E.C. Not for a long time because
they loved the music. In those days people were more religious, more people
went to church. I had a lot of people from Ursuline who were interested, and
they are still singing in my choir at the cathedral.

M.T. When did you start paying singers?

E.C. When we started giving a lot of
concerts.

M.T. What year was that?

E.C. I think that was in 1982. One
of them was Marilyn Bernard. I paid her because she was so good. She was an
excellent soprano. She came for the love of music.

M.T. And your sister Marie helped you raise funds for choir trips?

E.C. Yes. She knew the people. She
came down to the cathedral when I played the 12 o'clock Mass on Sunday. When I
finally got the choir moving they sang the High Mass, and I played all the
Masses, all the Benedictions that they had on weekdays.

M.T. When did you start playing so many Masses?

E.C. I started in 1940.

M.T. How many Masses did you play on Sunday?

E.C. The 9, 10, 11 and 12.

M.T. What about weekday Masses?

E.C. The children sang once a week.
I went down there to direct them. They really didn't need me. I used to go down
there at night and play the evening Mass too on Sunday night at 6 pm.

M.T. As choir director did you do any 20th-century repertoire?

E.C. No. They didn't like it. My
choir now does not like esoteric music that they do not understand. They like
Benjamin Britten, Randall Thompson. Their preference is for Gregorian chant and
music of later periods that shows organization and beauty. They will not sing
modern music. They are used to doing 16th-century polyphonic music.

M.T. What about the Brahms Requiem normal'>?

E.C. We have sung it and enjoyed
doing it.

M.T. Do you have a favorite 20th-century composer?

E.C. I love Randall Thompson, his
"Alleluia," and Benjamin Britten.

M.T. When you were playing organ recitals what repertoire did you play?

E.C. Bach, the Passacaglia
and Fugue, Prelude and Fugue in D Major, the Prelude and Fugue in A minor,
the C Major.

M.T. Did you play pre-Bach repertoire? Nicolaus Bruhns? Buxtehude,
Sweelinck?

E.C. Oh yes.

M.T. Did you play any 20th-century repertoire?

E.C. Yes, I played Marcel
Dupré's Preludes and Fugues, and Jehan Alain. I played
Messiaen's Celestial Banquet.

M.T. Did you study with Dupré?

E.C. No, I just heard him play.

M.T. What about Franck? Did you play his music?

E.C. Oh, I like Franck. I did the Trois
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Chorals, the Pastorale
style='font-style:normal'>, and Pièce Héroïque
style='font-style:normal'>.

M.T. And what about Hindemith?

E.C. I played his sonatas.

M.T. What about Tournemire?

E.C. A great man. I played some of
his music. I didn't play a lot of Tournemire because I didn't think the people
would enjoy hearing it. I think you must play music that people understand, not
just what you like to play.

M.T. What did you play at the cathedral? Did you play Brahms?

E.C. Yes, I love his chorales.
Beautiful. I played Couperin, de Grigny, Clérambault, Sweelinck, and we
sang Sweelinck too.

M.T. Did you play Mendelssohn?

E.C. Yes, but I think he is boring.
His music doesn't do anything. It's too old fashioned. I like music that says
something to people, and that has a wonderful sound. I was lucky to have the
cathedral organ.

M.T. Tell me about the restoration of the organ. I know you are
responsible for its restoration.

E.C. I paid for the whole thing.
It's being restored and added to by Holtkamp Organ Company of Cleveland, Ohio.

M.T. When did you find time to practice the organ?

E.C. At night, often I practiced
until midnight. And I took a cab home. It wasn't dangerous then.

M.T. You were alone?

E.C. Yes, usually, I couldn't expect
someone to stay down there with me.

M.T. Were you able to play organ preludes every Sunday?

E.C. Yes.

M.T. Did you play the organ during Advent and Lent?

E.C. No. In those days it was
forbidden. I was always under the supervision of Fr. Stahl. He was the director
of the seminary choir and could play the organ and wrote compositions for the
Notre Dame Seminary. I got my instructions from him. I followed the rules of
the Catholic Church, and there was to be no organ music during Advent and Lent.

M.T. And when you did play a prelude, was it always soft and meditative?

E.C. Not at all.

M.T. Really?

E.C. No. That's a lot of
foolishness. I would play big works, like the Passacaglia. And at the end of
the service, pieces like Toccata and Fugue in d minor.

M.T. When you played the Toccata and Fugue in d minor
style='font-style:normal'> for the prelude, nobody complained that you were
interrupting their prayers?

E.C. No, they came just to hear it.

M.T. Do you have any organ students who are pursuing church music as a
career?

E.C. Many. I have one boy who is
blind and is in Florida. One just gave a recital at St. Dominic's Church,
Marcus St Julien. I taught Fr. Carl Davidson, a former seminarian at Notre Dame
Seminary, Fr. Tom O'Connell and Dreux Montegut who is the music director, director
of the Cathedral Choir and Cathedral Boy Choir at St. Louis Cathedral.

M.T. Do you have any advice to an organist who is starting out?

E.C. Learn the music the way I was taught by Walcha: to play various voices
and the pedal and sing the other voice, to learn it from memory and know
everything that is going on in the piece. Make it the most important thing in
your life, to study and perform music like the composer meant it to be played.
And the first one in my book is Bach, and then of course polyphonic music of
the 16th-century, music of Palestrina, Victoria, Lassus, Orlando Gibbons, Byrd,
and Sweelinck, and composers today such as Vaughan Williams, Randall Thompson,
Benjamin Britten. The music must have form, direction and emotional strength. You
are saying something when you are writing a piece of music.

M.T. Do you have any advice for a choir director? How to deal with
people?

E.C. You have to love people with
your whole heart and soul. And that's why you are strict. You want them to be
the very best they can be. And you treat them as though they are part of you,
and not just an operation to show off.

M.T. What about someone who talks during rehearsal?

E.C. Well, I can't put up with that,
but you remember people are human. They need to have a break and talk. Give
them time to do that, and when it's time to rehearse, it's time to rehearse.
You can't talk and rehearse at the same time. You should make the rehearsal so
exciting and intelligently planned that they feel they are really accomplishing
something and there isn't time to talk.

M.T. What is the best way to conduct a choir rehearsal? Do you have them
sight read through the score?

E.C. I always say if people are
absolutely unable to read they should divide among voices, the women together
if there are two voices, the men together if there are two voices, if there are
six voices in groups of threes, so that nobody has to wait while one person has
to learn his part. People don't mind waiting a little while someone else learns
his part. But if they can't read at all take them by themselves. And if they
can't get in tune with each other it's much better to practice without a
keyboard. The keyboard is just there to teach them the scale and intervals.
Teach them to sing the intervals. Pick a simple piece and have them sing each
interval. If they cannot do this, and they are monotones, well, fare-thee well.
It's not a joke to sing. Do you think people teach this?

M.T. No.

E.C. You cannot learn to sight sing
if you can't sing intervals. You may not have to sing intervals in another
choir, but you're going to do it in this one. I love my choir. I hug them. You
tell the choir, "Either you learn to do it, or try to adapt yours

Joel H. Kuznik

Joel H. Kuznik, NYC, has been writing published articles for 50 years. A native of Jack Benny’s hometown, Waukegan, his childhood idol nevertheless was Rubenstein, whom he eventually heard in Paris in 1975. But by 14, he became fascinated with the organ and Biggs, whom he heard twice in the mid 1950s. He studied organ with Austin Lovelace, David Craighead, Mme. Duruflé, Jean Langlais, and Anton Heiller, and conducting with Richard Westenburg and Michael Cherry, who was assistant to Georg Szell. Highlights of 70 years have included hearing Glenn Gould, Giulini in Brahms’ Fourth at Chicago, Carlos Kleiber’s “Der Rosenkavalier” at the Met, Herreweghe’s unmatchable “Mass in B Minor” at the Leipzig Bachfest, “Tosca” at La Scala, a one-on-one with Bernstein after the Mahler 2nd, and, finally, a birthday toast from Horowitz.

One advantage of retirement is having the luxury of hearing colleagues and ensembles here and abroad. Of course you don’t have to be retired, but the freedom to plan your own time helps. I have taken a number of European musical tours: Italian opera, Paris organs, Bach and Luther, and the Leipzig Bach Festival.
I have also taken two Holy Week-Easter pilgrimages. In the late 1990s I observed Holy Week in London and celebrated Easter in both the Western and Eastern Orthodox rites, first in Naples and then a week later in the Oia, Santorini, Greece. This year I decided to take my pilgrimage in London. These are the options I discovered on the Internet, and from which I made a spreadsheet for daily reference. Choices had to be made, and not everything made the list, such as “Götterdämmerung” at the Royal Opera House, which would have consumed one of my six days.

Maundy Thursday

13:10: Eucharist with music, St. Anne & St. Agnes, Bach chorales
17:00: Sung Eucharist, Westminster Abbey, Byrd Mass & Duruflé
18:00: Mass, Westminster Cathedral, Monteverdi & Duruflé
19:30: Mozart Requiem, St. Martin-in-the-Fields, New London Singers

Good Friday

11:15: Matins & Litany, Temple Church, Lotti & Tallis
14:30: Bach’s St. John Passion, St. John’s Smith Square, Academy of Ancient Music
15:00: Lord’s Passion, Westminster Cathedral, Bruckner, Victoria

Holy Saturday

15:00: Evensong, Westminster Abbey, Victoria
19:00: Easter Vigil, St. Paul’s, Langlais Messe Solennelle
20:30: Easter Vigil, Westminster Cathedral, Vierne Messe solennelle

Easter Sunday

10:15: Matins, St. Paul’s, Britten Festival Te Deum
10:30: Eucharist, Westminster Abbey, Langlais Messe Solennelle
16:00: Early & baroque music, Wigmore Hall, Florilegium, Bach & Telemann
16:45: Organ recital, Westminster Cathedral
18:00: Easter music & Eucharist, St. Anne & St. Agnes, Handel & Telemann

Monday

19:30: Handel’s Messiah, St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Belmont Ensemble

Maundy Thursday

A few blocks behind St. Paul’s Cathedral is St. Anne’s Lutheran Church, an international congregation founded in 1951, worshiping at the church of St. Anne and St. Agnes designed by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London (1666) and consecrated in 1680. Built in the form of a Greek cross, this small church was bombed in WWII, but was restored and reconsecrated in 1966 as a Lutheran parish. In addition to its architectural history, famous residents of the parish have included John Milton, John Bunyan, and John Wesley.
St. Anne’s is known for its music, “particularly in the Lutheran tradition of J. S. Bach, Schütz, and Buxtehude.” There are over 100 performances a year, including lunchtime concerts on Monday and Fridays. The core musical group is the Sweelinck Ensemble, a professional quartet under the direction of Cantor Martin Knizia. The St. Anne’s Choir had recently sung Bach’s St. John Passion, and last December their Bach Advent Vespers was featured in a live broadcast on BBC Radio 3; .

Eucharist with Music

Chorale: O Mensch bereit das Herze dein, Melchior Franck
Chorale: Im Garten leidet Christus Not, Joachim a Burgk
Chorale: Durch dein Gefängnis, Gottes Sohn, J. S. Bach
Chorale: Jesu Kreuz, Leiden und Pein, Adam Gumpelzhaimer
Ehre sei dir Christe (Matthäus Passion), Heinrich Schütz
The chorales were interspersed throughout this service and were sung handsomely by the Sweelinck Ensemble accompanied by the cantor on a continuo organ. The concluding Schütz St. Matthew Passion was particularly stirring. Definitely worth a detour from the large churches to hear baroque music with this degree of authentic intimacy.

Westminster Abbey

Westminster Abbey, as glorious inside as it is dramatic outside, had a late afternoon Eucharist that moved the soul. So much can be said about the extraordinary history and presence of this church dating back to a Benedictine monastery in 960. It was later enlarged under King Edward the Confessor and consecrated in 1065 in honor of St. Peter, known as the “west minster” (Old English for monastery) in distinction from the east minster, St. Paul’s Cathedral. This magnificent gothic building is the result of work begun in the 13th century under Henry III and was not completed until 16th century.
Information, including details on the Harrison & Harrison organ (1937, four manuals, 78 stops), can be found at .

Sung Eucharist with the Washing of Feet

Mass for Four Voices, William Byrd
Organ prelude: Schmücke dich, o meine Seele, Bach
Improvisation leading to processional hymn: “Praise to the Holiest in the height” (Gerontius)
Gradual during Gospel procession: “Drop, drop, slow tears” (Song 46, Orlando Gibbons)
During the washing of the feet: Ubi caritas et amor, Maurice Duruflé
St. John 13:12–13, 15, plainsong mode II
Offertory hymn: “O thou, who at thy Eucharist didst pray” (Song 1, Orlando Gibbons)
After the Communion: Dominus Jesus in qua nocte tradebatur, Palestrina
While sacrament is carried to altar at St. Margaret’s: Pange lingua, plainsong mode II
During the stripping of the altar: Psalm 22:1–21, plainsong mode II

Westminster Abbey has an aura resonant with an awe of the divine. The service was without sermon, but so rich in ceremony and ritual that the preaching was in the actions, music, and language of the liturgy—in themselves a powerful message. Here everything seemed so right, from the dignified helpfulness of the ushers to the purposeful solemnity of the clergy—all enhanced by music done so well that it doesn’t call attention to itself because it is transparently integral to the worship and sung in a spirit reflective of the day’s liturgy. One did not just watch, but was drawn into the moment and left with an inner tranquility that spoke the essence of Maundy Thursday.

Good Friday

The weather was London: wet, dank, chilly and bleak—so fitting for the day. The Temple Church was recommended, not because of its recent attention due to the “The Da Vinci Code,” but primarily for its most traditional liturgy and excellence in music. The “Round Church” dates from 1185 and was the London headquarters of the Knights Templar. Their churches were “built to a circular design to remind them of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, a round, domed building raised over the site of the sepulchre where Jesus was buried.” The elongated choir was added by Henry III and consecrated on Ascension Day, 1240. The website provides an intriguing history of this unique church with directions and a much-needed map; .

Choral Matins, Book of Common Prayer (1662)
Introit: Crux fidelis, inter omnes, King John IV of Portugal
The Responses, plainsong
Venite, Exultemus, Anglican chant, Edward John Hopkins
Psalm 22, plainsong
The Lamentations of Jeremiah 1:1–2, Thomas Tallis
Benedictus, plainsong
Anthem: Crucifixus etiam pro nobis, Antonio Lotti
Litany, Thomas Tallis

Stephen Layton, director of music, directs a refined choir of men and boys, who were most telling in the Lotti Crucifixus, accompanied on a portative by the organist, James Vivian. The remainder of the service was played on the imposing and very British Romantic organ built by Harrison & Harrison (1924 and 2001, four manuals, 62 stops). The history of The Temple’s organs, including one by Father Smith, can be found on the website.

Back on Fleet Street I hopped on a bus to Westminster, hoping to hear Bach’s St. John Passion at St. John’s, Smith Square, just blocks from Westminster Abbey. A deconsecrated church dating from 1728, it now serves as a popular concert venue. In the crypt is a handy, economical restaurant “The Footstool,” where lunch was being served; .

St. John Passion, Johann Sebastian Bach, sung by Polyphony with the Academy of Ancient Music, Stephen Layton, conductor
Andrew Kennedy, Evangelist, tenor; James Rutherford, Christus; Thomas Guthrie, Pilatus; Emma Kirkby, soprano; James Bowman, countertenor; and Roderick Williams, bass.

This was a superb, masterful performance by a mature choir of 26 and professional soloists. The chorales were sung with care and the arias with sensitivity. The conductor’s tempos were quite sprightly and his approach dramatic, sometimes so much so that the next recitative intruded on the end of a chorale. This was, nevertheless, a fitting and most inspiring way to observe Good Friday.

Holy Saturday—Easter Eve

The Easter Vigil with its roots going back to earliest Christianity is the epitome of the Christian message and worship. It combines a rehearsal of salvation history with the rites of passage for the candidates (Latin, “those dressed in white”) through Baptism and Confirmation, and culminating in a celebration of the “Breaking of Bread” as Jesus did with his disciples after the Resurrection. The Vigil is an extended service with power-laden symbolism—the passage from utter darkness to brilliant light, the anointing with oil in the sign of the cross, the drowning of the self in baptismal waters, “putting on Christ,” and the sharing of the bread and wine in union with the community of faithful.
In London there could be no more fitting place to celebrate the Vigil than the regal diocesan St. Paul’s Cathedral, founded some 1500 years ago in 604 by Mellitus, a follower of St. Augustine who was sent to convert the Anglo-Saxons. It has been rebuilt a number of times with the most recent version begun in 1633 with a neo-classical portico or façade. The current design by Christopher Wren received royal approval in 1675, but was not finished until 1710. Later came the woodwork by Grinling Gibbons for the huge Quire and Great Organ, and in the 19th–20th century the glittering mosaics in the dome, envisioned by Wren. Most will remember St. Paul’s as the site of Prince Charles’s wedding to Diana. It has just undergone a complete renovation at a cost of £40 million in anticipation of its 300th anniversary in 2008; .
The organ was built by Henry Willis (1872) with an extensive renovation and enlargement completed by Mander (1977, five manuals, 108 stops). Not many organs deliver the overpowering experience that this organ can, especially when stops in the dome are added with a sound that not only surrounds, but also envelops worshippers.
The liturgy took place, not in the grand Quire, but “in the round” under the dome with a free-standing altar at one axis and the choir (with a small organ) to the left on risers, surrounded by the congregation.
Upon entry one received an impressive 28-page service booklet. One could only wonder “O Lord, how long?” But the service moved right along in two hours, including baptisms and confirmations. The service began in darkness; only with the procession to the dome by the participants did light begin to dawn as candles were shared. The Vigil had only one lesson instead of the usual nine readings. Then—the dramatic Easter Greeting by the bishop, “Alleluia! Christ is risen,” followed by bells and a thunderous fanfare from the organ—with a sudden blaze of almost blinding light as all the cathedral and the dome with its glittering mosaics lit up.

The Vigil Liturgy of Easter Eve

Setting: Messe solennelle, Jean Langlais
Exsultet sung responsively with the congregation
Song of Moses, Exodus 15, Huw Williams
Gloria in Excelsis, Langlais
Hymn: “The strife is o’er, the battle done ” (Gelobt sei Gott)
Hymn: “Awake, awake: fling off the night!” (Deus Tuorum Militum)
Motet: Sicut cervus, Palestrina
Hymn: “Here, risen Christ, we gather at your word” (Woodlands)
Sanctus, Langlais
Agnus Dei, Langlais
Surrexit Christus hodie, alleluia!, Samuel Scheidt (arr. Rutter)
Hymn: “Shine, Jesus, Shine”
Hymn: “Christ is risen, Alleluia!” (Battle Hymn of the Republic)
Toccata, Symphonie No. 5, Widor

The impact of this service was profound and intensely extraordinary, not as formal as Westminster Abbey, but with no less sincerity. The Langlais setting with the punctuating fortissimo chords from organ was overwhelming. The hymn singing, fueled by the organ’s energy, was similarly dynamic and enthusiastic, and the final hymn sung to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” went at such an exuberant clip that one had to conduct beats to keep up. How could one divorce one’s mind from the text, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”?
After this high-spirited hymn, the people, with their pace set by an energized Widor Toccata, exited up the center aisle toward the west end, facing the huge open cathedral doors with a gleaming light streaming in from the floodlit street, and walked past the bishop and the font into the light—they were ready for the Resurrection.

Easter Sunday

Sunday was another day, and, thankfully, the sun shone. I arrived at 9:15 am for Westminster Abbey’s 10:30 service to an already long queue. Had I arrived fifteen minutes earlier, I might have sat in the desirable rectangle framed by the choir screen and the chancel. But sitting just a few rows into the transept the sound was less immediate and gripping, and the hymn singing less compelling.

Sung Eucharist

Pre-service: Toccata in F Major, Bach

Setting: Messe solennelle [with brass quartet], Langlais Hymn: “Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia,” Lyra Davidica
Gloria in excelsis, Langlais
Gospel Procession: Victimae paschali, plainsong, arr. Andrew Reid
Hymn: “At the Lamb’s high feast” (Salzburg)
Sanctus, Langlais
During the Communion: Agnus Dei, Langlais; Christus resurgens ex mortuis, Peter Philips
Hymn: “Thine be the glory” (Maccabaeus)
Postlude: Finale, Symphonie II, Vierne
This was a straightforward Eucharistic service with fine music well performed. The Abbey Choir was conducted by James O’Donnell, Organist and Master of the Choristers, and accompanied by the London Brass quartet. The organist was Robert Quinney, Sub-Organist. The choir sang with their usual distinction, and in comparing this version of the Langlais, even with brass, to the Vigil the night before, clearly St. Paul’s was the more persuasive and affecting.

In the afternoon I headed to Westminster Cathedral, which according to the Internet performed some impressive music during Holy Week and on Easter that included Monteverdi, Duruflé, Byrd, Bruckner, Victoria, and Vierne’s Messe solennelle. But I regret to say that this Vespers, largely a chanted service and because of that, was an unexpected disappointment, especially since I had read such admiring CD reviews.
The cathedral, its striking architectural style from “Byzantine style of the eastern Roman Empire,” was designed by the Victorian architect John Francis Bentley on a site originally owned by the Abbey, but sold to the Catholics in 1884. The foundation was laid in 1895, and the structure of the building was completed eight years later. The interior with its impressive mosaics and marbles is said to be incomplete, but the cathedral is certainly a visual tableau .

Solemn Vespers and Benediction sung in Latin

Office Hymn: Ad cenam Agni provide
Psalms 109 and 113A (114)
Canticle: Salus et gloria et virtus Deo nostro (Revelation 19:1–7)
Magnificat primi toni, Bevan
Motet: Ecce vincit, Leo Philips
O sacrum convivium, Gregorian chant
Organ voluntary: Fête, Langlais

Unfortunately the printed order of service provided the Latin-English text, but without information on composers or musicians—facts only available on the Internet. The service seemed austere both in its solemnity from the entrance of the choir with many clergy and in its liturgical style.
There is obvious musical talent with a large professional choir of men and boys, but the musicians work with disadvantages. The choir is on an elevated shelf behind the baldaquin and high altar, which distances the sound and at times makes the singing seemed forced, especially by the men. The most disappointing, regrettable aspect was chanting “the old-fashioned way” with “schmaltzy” organ accompaniments on voix celeste or flutes. Solesmes is, by all counts, the gold standard, and after that all else pales. One would have thought the reform of chant in the Catholic Church and after Vatican II would have had greater impact and changed practice.
Martin Baker is the master of music and the assistant organist is Thomas Wilson. The Grand Organ is hidden by a nondescript screen in a chamber above the narthex and was only revealed in the Langlais Fête at the end—like an anomaly, but played with fire and aplomb. The organ was built by Henry Willis III (1922–1932, four manuals, 78 stops) and was restored by Harrison & Harrison in 1984.

Did I have one more service in me? I bravely headed to Trafalgar Square and St. Martin-in-the-Fields for Evensong. This church has a full schedule of services plus over 350 concerts a year. It may date back as far as 1222, and it can lay claim to the fact that both Handel and Mozart played the organ here in 1727. Today one immediately thinks of the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields founded in the 1950s with Sir Neville Marriner.
The church’s activities are amazing, but it is not resting on its laurels. It is the midst of a £34 million campaign (already £24 million in hand) to expand its facilities inside and out to include an outdoor courtyard, a rehearsal space, a Chinese community center, and space for social services. It will also mean a much-needed restoration to the interior of the church to bring it closer to its historic 18th-century conception. In the crypt there is a shop and a café that serves nutritious meals all day.

Choral Evensong

Introit: This Joyful Eastertide, arr. Wood
Responses, Martin Neary
Canticles: Collegium Regale, Herbert Howells
Anthem: Rise heart, thy Lord has risen, Vaughan Williams
Postlude: Victimae Paschali, Tournemire

What a joy! Familiar music well done by a superb, effective choir with first-rate organ playing. A great, satisfying way to complete my Easter celebration. Alleluia! The talented and youthful director of music, Nicholas Danks, is full of enthusiasm. The assistant organist, David Hirst, played the Tournemire with particular verve and drama on the fine organ by J. W. Walker and Sons (1990, three manuals, 47 stops) with its battery of fiery French reeds. I didn’t think I was up for another Messiah this season, but these musicians felt the choir presenting the next night at St. Martin’s was one of London’s finest.

Monday

Messiah, George Friedrich Handel
English Chamber Choir, Belmont Ensemble of London, Peter G. Dyson, conductor
Philippa Hyde, soprano; David Clegg, countertenor; Andrew Staples, tenor; and Jacques Imbrailo, baritone.
Things are moving along in London, and sprightly tempos are in. I found that to be the case with the Bach St. John Passion and here in the quick-paced Messiah, which came in at under two hours performance time—something of a record, I think.
The crackerjack orchestra and youthful soloists were on board, but the talented choir, perhaps under-rehearsed and lacking experience with this lively conductor, struggled to keep up, especially in Part I. “For unto us a child is born” proved that at these tempos “His yoke is easy” was not easy at all! The soloists all did fine work, but the tenor and baritone in particular distinguished themselves with eloquent declamations. In many respects this was a laudable performance brought to a rousing conclusion with “Worthy is the Lamb.”
Continuing in the spirit of Handel, I decided the next day to visit the Handel House Museum at 25 Brook Street where Handel lived in a multi-story house from 1723 to 1759. Here he composed famous works such Messiah, Zadok the Priest, and Music for the Royal Fireworks. It is a modest museum compared to the Händel-Haus Halle in Germany , but certainly worth a visit.
One is treated to an introductory film plus interesting prints of Handel’s contemporaries, two reconstructed period harpsichords (one with a zealous player dashing up and down double-keyboards), the Handel bed recently refurbished, and a current exhibit on “Handel and the Castrati,” with photo-bios of the leading castrati. Handel lived quite well indeed, paying a modest rent of £50 a year and with three servants to dote over him—every musician’s dream!
London is a six-hour flight from the East Coast and offers a plethora of musical possibilities, especially at Christmas and Easter. Others would have made different choices tailored to their interests. For me this was a full, rewarding week, something every musician needs from time to time to refresh the spirit—to capture the energy, vitality, and imagination of others. Europe may not be the bargain it once was. You can’t take it with you anyway, but these can be empowering moments you take to the bank that last forever.

 

Enrique Alberto Arias

Enrique Alberto Arias has a Ph.D. in musicology from Northwestern University. He is currently associate professor at DePaul University, School for New Learning, and is president of Ars Musica Chicago. The present article results from his study of the relationships between the Vincentian community and French sacred composers of the later 19th century. For information on obtaining the scores discussed in this article, contact .

Vincentian priests are known as missionaries and educators, but not as composers. Franciscans and Jesuits, on the other hand, employed music as part of their agendas and occasionally produced gifted composers and theorists. Padre Martini, the celebrated teacher of Mozart as well as an impressive theorist and composer, was a Franciscan. Athanasius Kircher, a Jesuit scientist and theorist, wrote the Musurgia Universalis (1650), one of the most imposing musical treatises of the Baroque. However, some Vincentian priests of the late 19th century, as this article will show, were talented composers who wrote cantatas for important Vincentian occasions.

During a trip to France in the summer of 2001, I visited the motherhouse of the Vincentians in Paris, which includes an archive. In addition to a rich series of materials regarding the history and work of the community (the preferred term to order), I found a significant number of musical compositions written by Vincentians to celebrate the founder of the community, St. Vincent de Paul, and other Vincentian saints. In addition, I found a connection between Jules Massenet and the Vincentians that will be discussed later in the article.

The Vincentian Community

St. Vincent de Paul (1581-1660) grew up in a simple farming home and was ordained in 1600. The Vincentian community was founded by St. Vincent de Paul in 1625 and was confirmed by Pope Urban VIII in 1632. Also known as Lazaristes (after their ancient motherhouse St. Lazare), the Vincentians or the Congregation of the Missions quickly became known for their charitable efforts. Although a humble parish priest, Vincent soon attracted the attention of the nobility. Vincent de Paul became chaplain and tutor to the household of Philip Emanuel de Gondi; and it was through this connection that he gained influence at the court of Louis XIII. Indeed, Vincent de Paul heard Louis XIII’s deathbed confession. Vincent de Paul was canonized in 1737, with his feast celebrated on September 27.

As chaplains to the royalty, the Vincentians quickly gained influence. The Vincentian community and the Daughters of Charity, co-founded in 1633 by Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, ministered to the poor and performed all types of charity work. The community flourished throughout the 18th century; but with the French Revolution of 1789, all Vincentian houses were closed and the property confiscated. The Concordat signed between Napoleon and the Catholic Church in 1801 reestablished the community. Little is known about the composers whose works are found in the Vincentian motherhouse, for only brief biographies of the priests in the community were maintained. These records include essential information: birth and death dates, date of ordination, and where the priest did his work. Nothing is stated about where these priests studied music or which other works, in addition to those found in the archives, the priests may have composed. However, from the circumstances of their compositions and other secondary data, it is possible to state that these priest-composers were active at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries. They worked in Paris or in smaller cities in France and were probably parish musicians who never aspired to important musical careers.

The Vincentians in the 19th century

With the suppression of the Jesuits in 1767, the Vincentians became active in the Far Eastern missions. Nicolas Raux (1754-1801) led the Vincentians to the Orient, but it was the martyrdoms of François Clet (1748-1820) and Jean-Gabriel Perboyre (1802-40) that focused attention on the Vincentians’ missionary zeal and service to the French. Jean-Gabriel Perboyre went to China in 1835 as a missionary, inspired by the example of François Clet. In 1840 he was arrested, tortured, and crucified. Beatified by Pope Leo XIII in 1889, Perboyre was canonized by Pope John Paul II in 1996 and now is considered a major Vincentian saint.

Jean-Baptiste Étienne (1801-1874) reformed the Vincentians during his generalate (1843-1874). Through his single-minded emphasis on a return to the original values of the community, the Vincentians achieved, by the end of the 19th century, a unity lacking after the French Revolution. Edward R. Udovic, C.M. writes:

The figure of Jean-Baptiste Étienne (1801-74) dominates the postrevolutionary, pre-Vatican II, history of the Congregation of the Mission and the Company of the Daughters of Charity. Excepting their founder, Saint Vincent de Paul (1581-1660), no other person determinatively shaped such a significant portion of the community’s history. Thus, Étienne’s traditional, if controversial, title as their ‘second founder’ seems to be fitting.1

The Perboyre beatification was strongly supported by Étienne, who saw it as an important part of his agenda of restoring the prestige of the Vincentian community.

But during the term of office of the superior general Antoine Fiat (1878-1914), the Vincentians again faced hardships because of the anticlericalism following the Franco-Prussian War; thus the beatification of Perboyre in 1889 and the attendant ceremonies highlighted the community’s importance to France at a time of flagging national spirit. As will be discussed later, a number of cantatas by Vincentians celebrate Perboyre’s beatification.

Church and state in late 19th-century France

Throughout the 19th century, the Vincentians played a powerful role in French religion and politics. Thus to understand their importance requires an understanding of the complex interconnections between church and state during this fascinating period. The history of Catholicism in France during the 19th century was influenced by the changing status of the Church. With the French Revolution of 1789 and the ensuing Reign of Terror of the 1790s, religious institutions were closed, organs destroyed, and Catholic church music no longer composed.

Many of the major writers of this period, such as the now little-read Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821), insisted on the power of the church to restore order. Furthermore, Maistre held the Enlightenment to have been a dangerous social movement that destroyed Catholicism. French Romantic authors, particularly François René Chateaubriand and Victor Hugo, were equally conservative and supported the royalist cause. Mankind was naturally sinful and only through the intervention of the Church could humanity progress. As Isaiah Berlin notes, “It is the powerful reaffirmation of this Pauline and Augustinian doctrine that is the sharpest single weapon on the root-and-branch attack on the entire Enlightenment by the French counter-revolutionary Maistre, Bonald, and Chateaubriand at the turn of the century.”2

François-René de Chateaubriand’s La génie du Christianisme (1802) emphasized orthodoxy. Up to about 1824 Chateaubriand was a Royalist who espoused the connection between conservative Catholicism and a stable monarchy. Similarly, Joseph de Maistre’s Du Pape (1817) argued for the infallibility of the pope and the need for a return to an orthodox and unquestioning Catholicism. Alphonse de Lamartine (known to musicians because of Liszt’s evocative piano compositions based on the Méditations poétiques [1820]) wrote a defense of political moderation entitled Histoire de Girondins (1847).

Major developments occurred for the Vincentians as well during this tumultuous period. Antoine-Frédéric Ozanam (1813-53) was an imposing intellectual figure in France during his lifetime. Suave and personable, Ozanam studied and later critiqued the socialist writings of the Comte de Saint Simon and was during his Paris years (up to 1836) in the orbit of Chateaubriand; thus he was influenced by the kind of conservative Romanticism alluded to previously. Ozanam, however, believed in Christian democracy, and, after the 1848 Revolutions, increasingly turned to social causes. In 1833, he founded the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in order, as he himself stated, “to insure my faith by works of charity.” This society’s benevolent program of social reform, still active to this day, had wide influence. Ozanam, although not a Vincentian priest himself, was devoted to Vincentian ideals. La civilisation chretienne chez les Francs (1849), Ozanam’s most characteristic work, reveals a fine grasp of French history. Ozanam was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1997.

Throughout the 19th century, however, the Vincentians were beset by internal troubles because of the tension between the French community and those living in other parts of Europe, particularly Italy and Spain. Gallicanism, or the concept going back to the 14th century of a French church free from most papal intervention, was rife. Because of the Vincentian connection to the Bourbon regime and consequently conservative, royalist politics, the changing political situation from the end of the French Revolution of 1798 to the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71 also impacted the community. By the mid-19th century, the community was threatened by deep rifts, and it was only thanks to the administration of one of the Vincentians’ most brilliant leaders that these problems were solved.

Church music in France during the 19th century

With the restoration of the monarchy in 1819, church music was again composed in France. Luigi Cherubini, who spent his later career in France and was a favorite composer of Napoleon and admired by Beethoven, wrote many Masses and Requiems. Alexandre-Étienne Choron (1771-1834), an influential teacher, promoted Gregorian chant. The Méthode de plain-chant (1815), for all its shortcomings, introduced a series of writings whose purpose was the dissemination of Gregorian chant in French parishes. Abraham Louis Niedermeyer (1802-1861) followed with the Méthode d’accompagnement du plain chant (1855), which, as the title implies, addressed the practical need to provide accompaniments to chants. Choron and Niedermeyer were furthermore involved in the creation and development of one of the most important musical educational institutions in France.

In 1817, Choron founded the Institute Royale de Musique classique et religieuse. After a period of economic difficulty during the reign of Charles X, the institution was opened again in 1853 under the direction of Niedermeyer and was called the École Niedermeyer. Niedermeyer, who had studied piano with Ignaz Moscheles, continued Choron’s love of early music and his passion for Gregorian chant. This institution affirmed the value of church music, and Vincentian composers perhaps studied here to learn the rudiments of liturgical composition. The École soon produced famous students, most notably Gabriel Fauré, whose Requiem (1877) perhaps reflects his studies at this institution.

In 1892, Charles Bordes, the great musicologist, created the Chanteurs de St-Gervais for the performance of early music, with a particular emphasis on such masters as Palestrina and Victoria. This establishing of institutions devoted to liturgical music culminated in 1894 with the foundation of the Schola Cantorum under the direction of Vincent d’Indy, Alexandre Guilmant, and Charles Bordes. Composers of the period, above all Claude Debussy, came to the Schola to hear chant and earlier church music, including medieval polyphony (which indeed was a rarity at the time).

Equally influential, the Benedictine abbey of St. Pierre at Solesmes in France, founded in the early 11th century, was reopened in 1833. Solesmes became the center for a renewed study of the original sources of Gregorian chant. The publication of the Paléographie musicale in 1889 under the direction of Dom Mocquereau began the systematic study of Gregorian chant’s origins and development, but it also placed France at the forefront of research into medieval sacred monody.

Earlier in the century, François-Joseph Fétis (1784-1871) began his landmark series of writings on the history of music. For all their flaws and historical misconceptions, these books, particularly the Biographie universelle des musiciens (1835-44), inspired an awareness of the great tradition of Catholic church music. This valuable source often provides unique information on the French performers and composers of this period, including some who intersected with the Vincentians.

Where did these Vincentians study music and what kinds of careers did they have? French priests of the later 19th century received basic instruction in the singing of chant and music reading skills. A few more talented priests were allowed to go on to more advanced musical studies, but the nature of their priestly work would not have allowed them to seek personal fame and glory. Musical Vincentians perhaps studied at the Paris Conservatory, but some possibly studied at the École Niedermeyer, which had a tradition of teaching Gregorian chant and emphasizing religious music.3 This institution’s emphasis on the practical use of Gregorian chant with accompaniment would have attracted the attention of the Vincentians.

The development of the organ in France parallels the interest in historical studies. Although many organs in France were destroyed during the Revolutionary period, by the end of the 19th century France was the center of organ construction, and Aristide Cavaillé-Coll (1811-99) its central figure. In 1833, Cavaillé-Coll went to Paris, where he constructed the organs for St. Denis and the Madeleine. His organs were notable for their wide range of color and symphonic sonorities. It is partly because of the development of the Cavaillé-Coll organ that composers such as César Franck, Charles-Marie Widor, and Louis Vierne wrote impressive organ symphonies that called on the full resources of this type of organ.

A composer-organist who worked at St. Vincent de Paul Church in Paris offers a glimpse into the careers of church musicians of this time. Léon Boëllmann (1862-1897) was educated at the École Niedermeyer and studied with Eugène Gigout (1844-1925), who had himself studied at the École Niedermeyer with Camille Saint-Saëns. Gigout and Boëllmann were related by marriage, and the two families later shared the same household. In 1877, Boëllmann succeeded Henri Fissot (1843-1896) as organist at St. Vincent de Paul church in Paris, where there was a large Cavaillé-Coll organ. During his years at this church (run by diocesan priests, not Vincentians) Boëllmann composed his still-popular organ works, such as the Suite gothique (1895).

Jules Massenet, Clément Vidal, and Perboyre cantatas

While doing the research in the Vincentian archives mentioned at the outset, I was particularly struck by a series of compositions for the 1889 beatification of Jean-Gabriel Perboyre. Perboyre, it will be remembered, was martyred in China and known for his sanctity. Because of his beatification, the Vincentians came into contact with Jules Massenet, now famous because of his operas, but who also composed many sacred works.

Partly in response to Perboyre’s beatification and for reasons to be discussed later, Jules Massenet composed a Cantate en l’honneur du Bienheureux Jean Gabriel Perboyre Missionaire Lazariste. Massenet’s Perboyre cantata was published by Georges Hartmann, Massenet’s chief publisher and tireless promoter. No date of publication is given, though it is dedicated to the superior-general of the Vincentian community, Antoine Fiat. This interesting and unknown work was probably composed shortly after the beatification in 1889, or about 1890 since the title and the text of this cantata refer to Perboyre as “bienheureux” or “blessed.” The text’s author is unnamed, but it was most likely a Daughter of Charity, for, as we will see, a number of works by Vincentian composers used texts written by Daughters of Charity.

Although little information exists on this now-forgotten work by Massenet, documents in the archives of the Vincentian motherhouse in Paris shed some light on its origins. It seems a Vincentian composer named M. Clément Vidal composed a cantata on the same text as Massenet’s, as is explained in anonymous annotation to a brief biography of Massenet held by the archive:

Massenet is the one who composed the Cantata au Bienheureux Perboyre. Someone asked him to review a cantata that had already been written. After reading the work, he preferred to compose another of his own. Massenet’s Memoirs are now being published (1912). The beatification of Perboyre took place in 1889.

P.S: It was Mr. Clément Vidal, member of the Vincentian community, who composed the first cantata. One had to be certain that his work was good; Mr. Bettembourg who knew Mr. Massenet personally, gave the cantata to him. Massenet made some corrections but Mr. Vidal got upset about it. Then, Massenet, who found the subject interesting, decided to compose a cantata himself. He would even have been willing to come to the motherhouse to conduct it; but, due to the discontent of Mr. Vidal, it did not seem a good idea to invite Massenet to come. This story was reported to me by Mr. Bettembourg.4

This annotation makes clear that Vidal took umbrage at Massenet’s criticism and blocked the performance of Massenet’s Perboyre cantata.

A brief biography for Vidal exists in the registry at the motherhouse.5 Clément François Vidal was born in Soulié, which was part of the diocese of Montpellier in southern France. He entered the Vincentian order in 1883 and took his vows as a priest in 1889. He died in Montpellier in 1935. Accordingly, Vidal was 25 when he wrote his Perboyre cantata, or the same year that he was ordained as a priest. No information is given as to when or where he studied music and what kind of professional career he may have had. But if one assumes that he completed his basic studies for the priesthood about the same time as he concluded his musical education, he probably studied composition in the early 1880s.

Other Perboyre works

In addition to Massenet’s Perboyre cantata, other composers, all members of the Vincentian community, likewise composed cantatas inspired by Perboyre’s beatification.

There are five Perboyre compositions by Vincentians that I have located in the archives.

1. Hymne au Bienheureux, Poésie et Musique de Ch.M. (It is unclear who Ch.M. was since there were many Vincentian names with these initials. The composer wrote the hymn he set himself.)

2. Cantate au Bienheureux J.B. Perboyre. A 4 Voix égales, sans Accompagnement by Clément François Vidal. (This is a simple four-part setting of the same text used by Massenet and perhaps the work he criticized.)

3. Cantate en l’honneur du Bienheureux Jean-Gabriel Perboyre. By C.V. (meaning Vidal) P.D.L.M (Prêtre de la Mission). (This is also on the same text as that used by Massenet and found in the previous cantata, but this is longer than the previous cantata. Perhaps the work written in response to Massenet’s critique, this cantata is far more elaborate in texture and more demanding than No. 3 and similar in many regards to Massenet’s cantata.)

4. Cantate en l’honneur du Bienheureux par un Prêtre de la Mission. By F. (Ferdinand or François) Dellerba. (This is a quite interesting setting for soprano, alto, two tenors, bass, and piano. In harmony and texture this is the most complex of all the “Perboyre” works. Although the text begins the same as that for Nos. 2 and 3, it varies thereafter.)

5. Chant de Triomphe en l’Honneur du Bienheureux Jean Gabriel Perboyre. Musique de Mr. C.V. (Clément Vidal), Paroles de Sr. J., Fille de la Charité. (This is for organ and three higher voices in equal range, suggesting it was sung by the Daughters of Charity. This is a small-scale strophic work with a refrain.)

6. Hymne à Martyre!!! [sic] (This is a setting for three high voices without accompaniment of Cantique No. 3. [See the listing of these later in the article.] This work is printed but the publisher is not given. The frontispiece is from the stained-glass window at St. Stephan Church at Sapiac, Montauban, where Perboyre studied as a seminary student.)

Of these six works, three are cantatas in several contrasting sections, while the other three works are on a smaller scale. The emphasis on male voices for some of these works implies the participation of Vincentian seminarians, while the inclusion of female voices and texts by the Daughters of Charity suggests their occasional participation. The level of difficulty of the longer works requires professionally trained musicians, while the shorter works could have been performed by a regular church choir.

All these works, including the Massenet cantata, reflect the conservative liturgical style found in many French sacred works of the period. The harmonic spectrum is somewhat limited, with chromaticism playing a purely coloristic role. Simple accompaniments for piano or organ support undemanding voice parts. That these works were printed and published, with the exception of Vidal’s simpler setting for four voices, suggests a greater permanency than usual for the many ephemeral church compositions of the day. Given the importance of the occasion, the Vincentians may have paid for the publication costs themselves.

The Cantiques en l’Honneur du Bienheureux Jean-Gabriel Perboyre are especially interesting. The frontispiece of this collection of pious poetry provides useful background information. We read that a triduum was conducted on 24, 25, 26 October 1890 in celebration of Perboyre’s beatification for which these cantiques were written. This triduum was preached by Jourdan de la Passadière, Bishop of Rosea, and it was presided over by Archbishop Thomas of Rouen.  This event was held at Le Havre, the port from which Perboyre embarked for China on 21 March 1835. The texts for the cantiques were written by the Daughters of Charity.

A triduum is, as the Latin name implies, a religious observance that lasts three days and is devoted to some particular religious theme, in this case Perboyre’s beatification. Often a triduum prepared for a saint’s feast and offered its participants a renewed sense of the sacraments of penance and holy communion. Sermons and prayers devoted to a particular theme emphasized spiritual ardor. Given the special celebratory nature of the Perboyre triduum, music probably played a significant role. The beatification of Perboyre in 1889 was the perfect occasion for such a triduum, which both celebrated Perboyre and the missionary role of the Vincentians.

Massenet’s and Vidal’s Perboyre cantatasp>

But let us return to Massenet’s and Vidal’s Perboyre cantatas. Striking parallels exist between Massenet’s and one of Vidal’s two cantatas for the beatification of Perboyre in 1889. Both set the same text, and both are scored for men’s voices with ad. lib. organ or piano. This allowed the cantata to be performed by the Vincentians themselves in their rather small chapel at the motherhouse. The inclusion of a dramatic narrative in the text occasioned solos in both cantatas, resulting in striking similarities of structure and texture.

The text narrates Jean-Gabriel Perboyre’s martyrdom:6

O Choir of the Blessed, O divine choruses

Favor us with your celestial voices and songs.

Celebrate with us the praises of Perboyre,

Join in our joyous celebrations.

 

Let us sing, Let us sing to the Blessed Martyr,

 

Let us sing of Christ’s courageous athlete,

 

Who on this beautiful day has earned a royal conquest:

 

A heavenly and immortal crown.

 

For his entire life his heart was ineffably

 

Attracted to the virtue of holy humility.

 

O Gabriel, tell us the marvelous secrets

 

Of your noble career.

While he lived among us

 

He passed his days quietly and unobtrusively.

 

But the One who from heaven knows what is deep within us

 

Called his disciple to the greatest of destinies.

He turned his gaze to infidel China,

 

He desired above all to carry the cross of God the Savior there.

 

He wanted, he wanted with all the ardor of his soul

 

To live and die at this post of honor.

To this apostolic man’s sublime desire

 

Heaven responded: “Depart!”

 

Intoxicated by a holy zeal

 

He left. This soldier of the gospel left.

 

He is eager to sacrifice his life and death.

A holy tenderness filled his beautiful soul;

 

He tried to comfort his cherished brothers in their misfortune,

 

He was always happiest when he could serve others

 

With a heavenly love.

It was in vain, it was in vain, proud mandarin that

 

In your blind rage you attacked this apostle of Christ.

 

The threat of tortures only strengthened his courage.

 

For Jesus remained Gabriel’s source of strength.

In their inhuman fury these tyrants said to him:

 

“Trample under foot this cursed cross,

 

Renounce its errors, and your vain belief,

 

and embrace the laws of our gods.”

“What! Renounce my God, my treasure and life!

 

Renounce my God and fall at your feet!

 

Never! Never! Death but not apostasy.

 

My Savior has done nothing but good for me.”

 

“My God! My God! In this extreme peril

 

I place myself in your hands like a timid child.

 

Do not abandon me at this my supreme hour!

 

God, sustain me in these my last struggles!”

The tyrant was filled with fury at his words

 

His innocent neck received the cruel attack.

 

The fatal knot is tightened, it is done. He dies.

 

Gabriel gains his eternal reward.

O you, whom we call our Father,

 

From heaven remember us.

 

Give us a share of your ardor for the divine battle.

 

In our struggles watch over us, our Father, watch over us.

This text, created from conventional phrases and images, falls into three sections. The first introduces the theme: the divine choirs are asked to participate in Perboyre’s victory. Perboyre is Christ’s athlete and hero. The second part narrates Perboyre’s trip to China and his martyrdom at the hands of cruel and faithless Chinese. The climax occurs when Perboyre is asked to abjure the cross of Christ, but he refuses, preferring death to renouncing his savior. The Vincentians are depicted at the end of the hymn as brothers who participate in Perboyre’s divine battle and victory.

 

A closer reading reveals several implications typical of France during this colonial period. Christians are fighting a war and the Chinese, naturally cruel, are the enemy. The poem calls for all French Christians to join in this holy war. A Vincentian victory is also a French victory over the Chinese; thus Perboyre serves as a symbol for all European Christians.

 

As suggested previously, Massenet’s cantata was probably not performed during the Perboyre celebrations nor perhaps even during the composer’s lifetime. But it is a masterly work, fully worthy of the great Massenet. It begins in D major in a march-like style. The chorus of the blessed are asked to participate in praising Perboyre, who has won the crown of martyrdom. (Example 1)

 

At R4 the tonality changes to G major, in a section that is more legato and cantabile. Thereafter the mode quickly and dramatically shifts to G minor at the narration of his trip to China and Perboyre’s wish to die as a martyr. (Example 2) At R8 the tonality again changes to C major and the style returns to a vigorous Allegro molto brillante. (Example 3) Parlando phrases are tossed from the two upper to the two lower voices.

 

At R10 an Allegro feroce appears in A minor, which details Perboyre’s refusal to trample the cross of Christ. (Example 4) This reaches a climax at R12, where the role of the men’s voices changes from that of the Vincentian brothers to the Chinese.

 

At R13 a baritone solo appears. Here Perboyre answers the Chinese, followed by a dialogue between the Chinese and Perboyre. At the end of this section Perboyre asks God to sustain him during his torture. At R18 the narration of Perboyre’s death resumes. (Example 5) At R20 the opening idea returns on a text that calls on Perboyre to guide and protect. (Example 6) The men’s voices again have the role of the Vincentians, who ask Perboyre to grant them the ardor to continue their divine war.  The work reaches an impressive conclusion as the Vincentians request Perboyre to watch over them in battle.

 

This cantata, about ten minutes long in performance, falls into three sections, defined by the changes of text and underlined by the tonal organization. Massenet’s cantata brings the “Vincentian” message alive through deft contrasts of texture and the introduction of the baritone solo. The return of the opening musical material defines the structure but also affirms the essential message of the work: to ask Perboyre to strengthen his Vincentian brothers in their missionary toil.

 

Two cantatas were written by Vidal for the Perboyre beatification: one that is short and simple and other that is strikingly like Massenet’s. The first, scored for two tenors, baritone, and bass without accompaniment, emphasizes a homophonic style throughout and employs a restricted harmonic vocabulary. (Example 7) One of the most effective moments of the score is the point where Perboyre answers his Chinese captors. A tenor solo appears over the rest of the chorus humming. (Example 8) As might be expected from the general limitations of the work, the text is treated in a narrative rather than dramatic fashion. On the other hand, despite its obvious limitations, this charming cantata, about five minutes long in performance, would have been appropriate for the triduum for which it was conceived.

 

The other setting by Vidal of the Perboyre text is more elaborate, falling into several sections and musically highlighting the changes of text. Like Massenet’s setting, this is scored for men’s voices alone, in this case for two tenors, baritone, and bass; however, the accompaniment is independent, providing a brief introduction and contrasting figuration at key points of the score. (Example 9) Although this work begins with the same harmonic progression as Vidal’s simpler setting, the general harmonic range is broader, moving to B major and G-sharp minor in the central parts of the cantata.

 

The order of composition of these cantatas is problematic. Given that one Vidal cantata for Perboyre’s beatification is quite simple, while the other is more complex, I suggest the following scenario. Vidal submitted the simpler setting to Massenet, who criticized it, with specific corrections in the score. Then Massenet, attracted by the poem and even more by its narrative, set the text himself. Vidal, in turn and despite the anger he felt because of the criticism, composed a work that perhaps incorporated Massenet’s corrections, causing the similarities to Massenet’s cantata.

 

The general layout and articulation of the text is similar to Massenet’s cantata, suggesting that Vidal benefited from advice on how to realize the text. At several points of the score, solo voices are called forth. Most importantly, a solo recitative for the tenor is heard at the dramatic climax. (Example 10) Not only is this similar to Massenet’s handling of this section of the hymn, but the response “Il dit . . .” is treated as a unison in both cantatas. At this point the text differs slightly because of the phrase “Des enfants de Vincent.” In contrast to Massenet’s setting, this work ends quietly, with the accompaniment playing an effective role. (Example 11)

 

In conclusion, the Cantate en l’honneur du Bienheureux Jean-Gabriel Perboyre Missionaire Lazariste connects Massenet to the Vincentians at a time of changing fortunes for the community. The participation of the Daughters of Charity as poets and performers sheds further light on the artistic activities of the Vincentians. Ultimately, the Massenet-Vincentian relationship inspired Massenet to write a fine cantata, but this strange incident connected to Blessed Perboyre’s beatification of 1889 also provides a glimpse into the musical accomplishment of a forgotten Vincentian composer.  n

Nunc Dimittis

Donald A. Grooms, 78, died May 7, following complications caused by a stroke. Born in Paris, Texas, he was an honor graduate of Paris High School. During his high school and college years, he served as organist for several churches. He studied organ under Helen Hewitt at North Texas State University. In 1965, he graduated from the University of Texas Southwestern Medical School, and in 1971, he was elected a Fellow to the American Academy of Pediatrics.

Dr. Grooms served as a Major in the Army, attached to the 25th Evacuation Hospital, Da Nang, Vietnam, after which he relocated to New York City where he was associated with the international division of Pfizer Pharmaceuticals for 20 years. Following his retirement from Pfizer, Dr. Grooms became a partner in Petty-Madden Organ Builders, a position he held well into his seventies.

 

Fr. Columba Kelly, OSB, 87, a monk and priest of St. Meinrad Archabbey, St. Meinrad, Indiana, died on June 9 at the monastery. He was a jubilarian both of profession and priesthood. Born in Williamsburg, Iowa, on October 30, 1930, he was given the name John Joseph at his baptism. He attended St. Ambrose College, Davenport, Iowa, for several years before transferring to St. Meinrad College. Invested as a novice monk on July 30, 1952, he professed simple vows on July 31, 1953, and his solemn vows on August 6, 1956. Fr. Columba completed his theological studies in Rome and was ordained to the priesthood on July 5, 1958. The following year, he received a licentiate in sacred theology from the Pontifical Athenaeum Sant’ Anselmo. He then pursued graduate studies, earning his doctorate in church music at Rome’s Musica Sacra in 1963. He studied semiological interpretation of chant under Dom Eugène Cardine, OSB, monk of the Abbey of Saint-Pierre in Solesmes.

When Fr. Columba returned to Saint Meinrad in 1964, he was named choirmaster of the monastic community and began to teach in both the College and the School of Theology. His lasting contribution was to introduce chant in English into the celebrations of the Divine Office and the Eucharist. The monastery’s collection of his chant compositions numbers nearly 2,000.

In addition to his many years teaching at Saint Meinrad, he taught courses on liturgical music for 12 summers at St. Joseph’s College, Rensselaer, Indiana. Other summer teaching assignments included University of Wisconsin, Madison, and California State University-Los Angeles. Through his many workshops to parishes and religious communities, and through the collections of his antiphons published by GIA and Oregon Catholic Press, his work is known by many cantors, choirs, and parish communities throughout the United States.

Fr. Columba was a charter member of the Benedictine Musicians of the Americas, a member of the American Musicological Society, the American Guild of Organists, the National Catholic Music Educators Association, the Church Music Association of America, and the Composers’ Forum for Catholic Worship. He was also a standing member of the Chant Division of the National Pastoral Musicians Association. In 2015, he was named the second recipient of the Spiritus Liturgiae Award, given by the Liturgical Institute in Mundelein, Illinois.

In addition to his music scores, Fr. Columba contributed to the literature on chant and sacred music. These include his 2003 book, Gregorian Chant Intonations and the Role of Rhetoric; “The Organ,” an article in a book sponsored by the National Liturgical Conference and the Church Music Association; and, in 2006, his translation of and notes to the first volume of Agustoni and Göschl’s An Introduction to the Interpretation of Gregorian Chant. Fr. Columba also contributed entries on the Kyrie, Gloria, Agnus Dei, Benedicamus Domino, and Ite Missa Est for the New Catholic Encyclopedia.

The funeral Mass for Fr. Columba Kelly was celebrated June 13. Burial followed in the Archabbey Cemetery.

 

Henry Willis, IV, the last living family member of the Henry Willis & Sons organbuilding dynasty, died at a hospital near his home in India on June 23, at the age of 91. Willis was born January 19, 1927, to Henry Willis, III and Clara Constance (Sinclair) Willis at Streatham Hill, London. Educated at Gladstone Preparatory School, London, Westminster School, London, and Giggleswick School, North Yorkshire, he left school in 1944 to join the Royal Army during World War II. He was promoted to Lance Corporal in 1945 and commissioned to the Queen’s Royal Regiment in 1946, where he was placed in charge of a Japanese prisoner of war camp and the repatriation of British prisoners.

Willis joined the family organbuilding firm in 1948 as a laborer (at the insistence of his father) and then trained as a pipemaker and voicer under George Deeks. He was sent to manage the Liverpool Branch in 1954, principally to oversee the restoration of the great 1855 Willis concert organ in St. George’s Hall, which had been severely damaged by wartime bombing, theft, and general mishandling. He returned to London to manage the Head Office in 1965 due to his father’s worsening health. Following Henry Willis, III’s death on February 27, 1966, he began the search for property to construct a purpose-built organ factory in Petersfield, where he opened a shop in 1968 on land that had been the site of old dairy buildings.

Willis was invited to attend, and became one of the founding members of, the American Institute of Organbuilders at its first annual convention in 1974, thereby beginning a relationship with his American organbuilding colleagues. A frequent attendee and lecturer at subsequent conventions, his last appearance was in Washington, D.C., in 1993, where he lectured on and demonstrated organ pipemaking and voicing. His acerbic wit and entertaining style covered quite a bit of useful information to those who “listened between the lines” during those lectures and demonstrations. His wife, Barbara, was a charming lady who did her best to keep Willis as well-behaved as possible, especially during times set aside for evening socializing!

In 1997 Willis stood down as Managing Director of Henry Willis and Sons. New management and new ownership relocated the firm to the Liverpool Branch in 2001 where the firm now survives him. He was a Freeman of the City of London and served as Master of The Worshipful Company of Musicians, of which he was the longest holder of the Livery.

Henry and Barbara Willis moved to India in 2008 where his mother’s family had been coffee planters in the 19th and 20th centuries. They purchased land and built a house there, in which he and Barbara have lived up to the present. He died peacefully at home in the Nilgris District of Tamil Nadu.

—John-Paul Buzard