Herr, nun lässest du deinen Diener in Friede fahren by Michael Praetorius
I remember that as a young conductor, I used to hold a grudge against composers who used more than the four voice parts. Especially irritating were those pieces which called for more than two men's parts. I thought, why can't they say what they want to say with four voices and simplify things for the rest of us?
Such pieces as the 'B Minor Mass' and Monteverdi's madrigals softened me up on this issue, and over time I have come to really enjoy pieces for five, six and more voices. There's a richness that is gained, and many more voice divisions and groupings become available. Sure, it's more of a challenge; but well worth the effort, and the singers learn and gain additional confidence each time they pull off an ambitious divisi piece.
I have been thinking about an interesting phenomenon lately: A six-voice texture is one thing--a beautiful, rich, cosmic texture is achievable in a way not possible with (say) four voices. An eight-voice texture is quite a different thing--the voices are usually arrayed as two four-voice choirs, usually resulting in an antiphonal texture,
with occasional tutti passages.
But what about seven-voice pieces? They are rare, but not that rare. We had one just on Wednesday: Antonio Scandello's 'Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ', with its pervasive imitation through all voices. In our 'Sing Glorious Praetorius show (November 2019, seemingly a geologic age ago), we had two: The final verse of our 'Wachet auf' suite,
and our encore, 'Singt ihr lieben Christen all'.
Both of these are wonderful pieces. One of the things that make them so is the wealth of different textures and groupings made available to Praetorius by his use of seven parts. He can choose a full-on antiphonal texture when he wants; or the giant, music-of-the-spheres texture; or any of a large variety of regular or asymmetrical groupings. It's like a party of good friends who form various small groups, which then shift and expand and contract and transmogrify over time in a joyful, rolling conversation.
Lately I've been snapping up seven-voice pieces wherever I find them, and have also been specifically seeking them out. A couple of weeks ago, when I was working on our 'Never to Forget' program for the Spring of 2022, I was looking for a 'Nunc dimittis'--and not finding just the right piece. But then I realized that, since the show is multi-lingual, I should search for the German text, 'Herr, nun lässest du deinen Diener in Friede fahren'. And (praise God or whoever's in charge) there it was staring me in the face, from Praetorius' 'Musae Sioniae V'.
There's sort of click when you find just the right piece for a certain slot. So satisfying! And the click was as loud
and clear as I've ever heard it.
You're gonna love the piece. It's based upon a variant of the fifth psalm tone, which begins with a bold ascending major triad. Some of you will recall it from the Willaert 'De Profundis' which Bach Choir did a few years back, in 'A Tale of Two Cities'. Here Praetorius distributes the tone around the texture, sometimes imitating it, sometimes providing new, contrasting motifs which themselves are in turn imitated. He uses a wide variety of groupings for his voices. There are a couple of homophonic triple-time sections in the doxology, which are followed by an immensely satisfying, cosmic tutti.
The setting is sui generis: Obviously partaking of Praetorius' style and of early Baroque style generally, but carving out a special niche of its own. And I think a lot of this has to do with its seven-voice texture.
I'm attaching a score for the piece, as well as a great recording and a text-translation sheet.
Be prepared for more seven-voice pieces! On Monday, we'll look at one of Lassus' great motets from the 'Lagrime di San Pietro', a piece in which sevens (and threes) play a major role; and on Wednesday, I'll share a piece I've been transcribing: Scandello's 'Nun freut euch lieben Christen g'mein'.
Creatures of Night, Brought to Light!
I remember that as a young conductor, I used to hold a grudge against composers who used more than the four voice parts. Especially irritating were those pieces which called for more than two men's parts. I thought, why can't they say what they want to say with four voices and simplify things for the rest of us?
Such pieces as the 'B Minor Mass' and Monteverdi's madrigals softened me up on this issue, and over time I have come to really enjoy pieces for five, six and more voices. There's a richness that is gained, and many more voice divisions and groupings become available. Sure, it's more of a challenge; but well worth the effort, and the singers learn and gain additional confidence each time they pull off an ambitious divisi piece.
I have been thinking about an interesting phenomenon lately: A six-voice texture is one thing--a beautiful, rich, cosmic texture is achievable in a way not possible with (say) four voices. An eight-voice texture is quite a different thing--the voices are usually arrayed as two four-voice choirs, usually resulting in an antiphonal texture,
with occasional tutti passages.
But what about seven-voice pieces? They are rare, but not that rare. We had one just on Wednesday: Antonio Scandello's 'Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ', with its pervasive imitation through all voices. In our 'Sing Glorious Praetorius show (November 2019, seemingly a geologic age ago), we had two: The final verse of our 'Wachet auf' suite,
and our encore, 'Singt ihr lieben Christen all'.
Both of these are wonderful pieces. One of the things that make them so is the wealth of different textures and groupings made available to Praetorius by his use of seven parts. He can choose a full-on antiphonal texture when he wants; or the giant, music-of-the-spheres texture; or any of a large variety of regular or asymmetrical groupings. It's like a party of good friends who form various small groups, which then shift and expand and contract and transmogrify over time in a joyful, rolling conversation.
Lately I've been snapping up seven-voice pieces wherever I find them, and have also been specifically seeking them out. A couple of weeks ago, when I was working on our 'Never to Forget' program for the Spring of 2022, I was looking for a 'Nunc dimittis'--and not finding just the right piece. But then I realized that, since the show is multi-lingual, I should search for the German text, 'Herr, nun lässest du deinen Diener in Friede fahren'. And (praise God or whoever's in charge) there it was staring me in the face, from Praetorius' 'Musae Sioniae V'.
There's sort of click when you find just the right piece for a certain slot. So satisfying! And the click was as loud
and clear as I've ever heard it.
You're gonna love the piece. It's based upon a variant of the fifth psalm tone, which begins with a bold ascending major triad. Some of you will recall it from the Willaert 'De Profundis' which Bach Choir did a few years back, in 'A Tale of Two Cities'. Here Praetorius distributes the tone around the texture, sometimes imitating it, sometimes providing new, contrasting motifs which themselves are in turn imitated. He uses a wide variety of groupings for his voices. There are a couple of homophonic triple-time sections in the doxology, which are followed by an immensely satisfying, cosmic tutti.
The setting is sui generis: Obviously partaking of Praetorius' style and of early Baroque style generally, but carving out a special niche of its own. And I think a lot of this has to do with its seven-voice texture.
I'm attaching a score for the piece, as well as a great recording and a text-translation sheet.
Be prepared for more seven-voice pieces! On Monday, we'll look at one of Lassus' great motets from the 'Lagrime di San Pietro', a piece in which sevens (and threes) play a major role; and on Wednesday, I'll share a piece I've been transcribing: Scandello's 'Nun freut euch lieben Christen g'mein'.
Creatures of Night, Brought to Light!