Non Moriar by Ludwig Senfl
I spent part of the day working on a selection of 32 Bach chorales for 'Adventures in Sightsinging', and that brought me joy and some serenity as well. The noble chorale melodies themselves, and Bach's incredibly well-crafted arrangements thereof, represent collectively a real monument of human achievement, and each individual piece, with its own power and message, works its little bit of magic in the heart and soul.
In the fall of 1530, Martin Luther needed some of that magic. Feeling hard-pressed on many sides, depressed in the wake of the Diet of Augsburg, he wrote to his friend and colleague Ludwig Senfl at the court of the Duke of Bavaria and poured out his troubles and fears. A translation of this remarkable letter is attached, in which Luther praises the power of music, and asks the composer to cheer him by finding--or even composing--a motet on the comforting passage from the compline service, 'In pace, in idipsum dormiam et requiescam' ('In peace, in the very same, I will sleep and take my rest').
Senfl did indeed set those lines to music. I am attaching a score of his motet; here's a link to Franz Vitzthum's wonderful rendition, accompanied by the amazing Julian Behr on lute. And here's a beautiful instrumental performance by the Bay Area's own Farallon Recorder Quartet. As you can see and hear for yourself, Senfl's setting is cheering and comforting indeed. But we don't know whether this piece ever reached Luther.
We do know beyond doubt, however, that in direct response to Luther's plea, Senfl did send him a motet. It's based upon a brief text from Psalm 118: 'Non moriar, sed vivam'. As recounted by James L. Brauer:
"The text of this motet was one of Luther’s favorite verses from Scripture. In Latin it reads 'Non moriar, sed vivam, et narrabo opera Domini' ('I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord') [Psalm 118:17]. For a time it was a kind of motto for Luther. He had written the text and its Gregorian melody, on the wall of his study at the Coburg fortress in 1530 when he was observing from a distance the negotiations in Augsburg."
Senfl must have known that these words were near and dear to Luther's heart, and he seems to have liberally poured out his love and care for his friend in his setting. You can hear this for yourself in this fine choral performance by the Chant Claire Chamber Choir; and, very differently, in Vitzthum and Behr's version. Again, a score is attached for your perusal.
Interestingly, somewhat later, Martin Luther himself seems to have taken up his quill to make a stab at his own setting. As you can read in his attached letter, he claimed no great prowess in the art of polyphony, though he was a great admirer of such practitioners as Josquin and Senfl. But you can judge for yourself: Here's a link to Chant Claire's recording of his short motet, and the score is attached.
I spent part of the day working on a selection of 32 Bach chorales for 'Adventures in Sightsinging', and that brought me joy and some serenity as well. The noble chorale melodies themselves, and Bach's incredibly well-crafted arrangements thereof, represent collectively a real monument of human achievement, and each individual piece, with its own power and message, works its little bit of magic in the heart and soul.
In the fall of 1530, Martin Luther needed some of that magic. Feeling hard-pressed on many sides, depressed in the wake of the Diet of Augsburg, he wrote to his friend and colleague Ludwig Senfl at the court of the Duke of Bavaria and poured out his troubles and fears. A translation of this remarkable letter is attached, in which Luther praises the power of music, and asks the composer to cheer him by finding--or even composing--a motet on the comforting passage from the compline service, 'In pace, in idipsum dormiam et requiescam' ('In peace, in the very same, I will sleep and take my rest').
Senfl did indeed set those lines to music. I am attaching a score of his motet; here's a link to Franz Vitzthum's wonderful rendition, accompanied by the amazing Julian Behr on lute. And here's a beautiful instrumental performance by the Bay Area's own Farallon Recorder Quartet. As you can see and hear for yourself, Senfl's setting is cheering and comforting indeed. But we don't know whether this piece ever reached Luther.
We do know beyond doubt, however, that in direct response to Luther's plea, Senfl did send him a motet. It's based upon a brief text from Psalm 118: 'Non moriar, sed vivam'. As recounted by James L. Brauer:
"The text of this motet was one of Luther’s favorite verses from Scripture. In Latin it reads 'Non moriar, sed vivam, et narrabo opera Domini' ('I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord') [Psalm 118:17]. For a time it was a kind of motto for Luther. He had written the text and its Gregorian melody, on the wall of his study at the Coburg fortress in 1530 when he was observing from a distance the negotiations in Augsburg."
Senfl must have known that these words were near and dear to Luther's heart, and he seems to have liberally poured out his love and care for his friend in his setting. You can hear this for yourself in this fine choral performance by the Chant Claire Chamber Choir; and, very differently, in Vitzthum and Behr's version. Again, a score is attached for your perusal.
Interestingly, somewhat later, Martin Luther himself seems to have taken up his quill to make a stab at his own setting. As you can read in his attached letter, he claimed no great prowess in the art of polyphony, though he was a great admirer of such practitioners as Josquin and Senfl. But you can judge for yourself: Here's a link to Chant Claire's recording of his short motet, and the score is attached.