Laudibus in Sanctis by William Byrd
People write books reflecting upon writing. What happens when music is written to reflect upon music? This happens more often than one might think, since many juicy texts are out there which describe and evoke musical activity and the effects music can have upon us. Several years ago when Circa 1600 did a program on the topic of 'Music about Music', it was absolutely no problem to find enough materials; in fact, we had an embarrassment of riches from which to choose.
One thread of this tradition is the Book of Psalms. The psalter was written to be sung, of course, but many psalms take up the specific topic of music and its uses for praise, ritual, celebration and mourning. Today we're focusing upon one of these--Psalm 150--and one of its settings--William Byrd's magnificent 'Laudibus in sanctis', from his Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum (1591).
This brief final psalm in the Book of Psalms is an exhortation to praise, especially through music. Here it is in a more or less literal translation from the Latin:
Praise the Lord most high with praises in his sanctuary: Let the firmament resound the glorious works of God Sing the celebrated works of God: And in a voice of holy might sound forth often the power of his hand.
Let the martial trumpet sing the Lord’s splendid name: Together praise the Lord with the Pierian lyre.
Let resounding drums sound to the praise of God most high:
Let high organs sound the praise of God most holy.
To whom skillful psalteries sing with subtle string: To whom let joyful dance give praise with nimble foot. Hollow cymbals pour out divine praises: Sweet-sounding cymbals full of the praise of God.
All on earth that is fed by the breath of heaven: Sing hallelujah in eternity to God.
As you can see, aside from the opening and closing lines, we have here a catalog of instruments (plus dance) which are called upon to join in the celebration. And Byrd by no means shirks his duty, finding it rather a great pleasure to suggest onomatopoetically the sounds and motions and effects of divers instruments--and voices--and dances. In fact, a fun game (a sort of treasure hunt) would be to pore over the score (upon which I've transcribed the translation) to discover what musical means Byrd employs to achieve his ends.
What is unutterably cool (though of course I will attempt to utter it) is that these words, originally meant to be sung and to express musical ideas and activities, are here placed in a context in which these very ideas and activities are put into action, made real and present in the moment as we sing and play. It is this joining in, joining hands, joining voices over centuries, over continents, over earth, over heaven, that brings to life the deeper magic of music-making: A celestial roundelay in which we participate with the psalmists, with the composer, with those who have ever sung or played the piece through the centuries, with our colleagues in real time and with anyone who will listen to send these songs forth.
All the usual materials are attached, including an excellent recording by Stile Antico.
People write books reflecting upon writing. What happens when music is written to reflect upon music? This happens more often than one might think, since many juicy texts are out there which describe and evoke musical activity and the effects music can have upon us. Several years ago when Circa 1600 did a program on the topic of 'Music about Music', it was absolutely no problem to find enough materials; in fact, we had an embarrassment of riches from which to choose.
One thread of this tradition is the Book of Psalms. The psalter was written to be sung, of course, but many psalms take up the specific topic of music and its uses for praise, ritual, celebration and mourning. Today we're focusing upon one of these--Psalm 150--and one of its settings--William Byrd's magnificent 'Laudibus in sanctis', from his Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum (1591).
This brief final psalm in the Book of Psalms is an exhortation to praise, especially through music. Here it is in a more or less literal translation from the Latin:
Praise the Lord most high with praises in his sanctuary: Let the firmament resound the glorious works of God Sing the celebrated works of God: And in a voice of holy might sound forth often the power of his hand.
Let the martial trumpet sing the Lord’s splendid name: Together praise the Lord with the Pierian lyre.
Let resounding drums sound to the praise of God most high:
Let high organs sound the praise of God most holy.
To whom skillful psalteries sing with subtle string: To whom let joyful dance give praise with nimble foot. Hollow cymbals pour out divine praises: Sweet-sounding cymbals full of the praise of God.
All on earth that is fed by the breath of heaven: Sing hallelujah in eternity to God.
As you can see, aside from the opening and closing lines, we have here a catalog of instruments (plus dance) which are called upon to join in the celebration. And Byrd by no means shirks his duty, finding it rather a great pleasure to suggest onomatopoetically the sounds and motions and effects of divers instruments--and voices--and dances. In fact, a fun game (a sort of treasure hunt) would be to pore over the score (upon which I've transcribed the translation) to discover what musical means Byrd employs to achieve his ends.
What is unutterably cool (though of course I will attempt to utter it) is that these words, originally meant to be sung and to express musical ideas and activities, are here placed in a context in which these very ideas and activities are put into action, made real and present in the moment as we sing and play. It is this joining in, joining hands, joining voices over centuries, over continents, over earth, over heaven, that brings to life the deeper magic of music-making: A celestial roundelay in which we participate with the psalmists, with the composer, with those who have ever sung or played the piece through the centuries, with our colleagues in real time and with anyone who will listen to send these songs forth.
All the usual materials are attached, including an excellent recording by Stile Antico.