Drawing On Plainchant
My recent compositional philosophy has been to have increasing recourse to Gregorian forms. Since plainchant is the music of the Roman Rite, it is only fitting that any music intended for use in Sacred Liturgies (especially Holy Mass) should have recourse to it. In fact, St. John Paul II (†1) even stated that the more music approaches chant in its essence, the holier it is.
As I compose psalms, gospel acclamations, and even motets, I try to keep this in mind. Sometimes this is as simple as writing a melody that has a more somber/subdued feel reminiscent of chant. Sometimes it’s applying a psalm tone (traditional formula) to the verses. Other times, as will be discussed below, the inspiration is much more overt.
There are a few different treasures that chant has to offer modern composers. Plainchant is:
melismatic (sometimes many notes for a single word or even a single syllable)
modal (doesn’t follow the modern convention of “major” and “minor”)
open meter (the music is not in any definable time signature, but simply lasts as long as it lasts and flows as it flows)
the notes serve the text, and not the other way around
certain neumes / note groupings that recur in various chants as discernible patterns
psalm tone forumas & cadential formulas for antiphons
incipits
This list is by no means exhaustive, and not every aspect of chant needs to be imitated in every modern liturgical composition—but together these attributes constitute a useful toolbox available to modern composers.
Breathing New Life to Psalms
This week I set Psalm 92, “Lord, it is good to give thanks to you.” This text is also set as a gradual and can be found in the Gregorian Missal and the Liber Usualis. In an effort to seek inspiration and root my setting in tradition, I first looked up and sang through the chant. The original, in its totality, can be heard here:
The first phrase actually lends itself quite well to adaptation as a regular/modern (for lack of a better way of putting it) melody. After careful consideration, this was the result:
As you can see—at least in this particular instance—I was able to directly adapt the chant to a vernacular translation, but in a way that still strikes the ear as a contemporary setting, whilst still retaining the contemplative aura of the chant. Later, for the verses, I was also able to retain the general outline of the second and third measures as well. It is not a strict 1:1 throughout, however the general outline is easily traceable. Measures 2-3 of the chant have the particular benefit of having a form not dissimilar to a psalm tone (tones II & V, for instance). When adapted and melded with a bit of a magnificat tone you get the following:
The first and perhaps most noteworthy aspect of this setting is how closely it outlines the original melody of the ancient gradual. I have numbered various neumes so you can trace exactly what I was adapting and where.
Also note the use of free meter. While I retained standard note values for the organist to maintain a sense of proportion, the melody is comprised of stemless notation throughout. This encourages the cantor to sing the rhythm in such a way as serves the text first, rather than the music itself, which should be subservient to it. Black notes are “short” while white cadential notes are “long,” relatively speaking, and held to taste. Reciting tones further encourage the cantor to sing in natural speech rhythm. It is a curious—yet subtle—choice, but once cantors become accustomed to reading this type of free rhythm, natural emphases in the text are more readily sung by nature rather than force. Lastly, I set the second half of each verse to begin after the initial tones, similar to the way psalms are chanted antiphonal during the divine office and each repetition begins immediately on the reciting tone.
The end result is, I believe, quite successful and proves that original chants can serve as excellent fodder for modern inspiration. There is a beautiful symmetry with the new setting being based upon the old.
It is my hope and prayer that other composers will start to lean on this invaluable resource as well, not only borrowing melodic ideas, but the essence of the chant as well. In this way the chant, even if not sung in its original form, is not dead. Its spirit lives on in a new generation.
Besides, it is far superior to look to chant for inspiration than tired 70’s ballads.
Click on the video below to hear a recording of this work, complete with animated score:
†1 • I’d like to gingerly suggest that those who refer to St. John Paul II as “St. John Paul the Great” refrain from doing so. “The Great” is a peculiar title that is bestowed upon exceptional saints and is usually only appended to their names in the course of history and not so soon after death. He was not canonized as ‘JPII the great’.
As far as popes are concerned, there are only three “Greats” and you can read about them here: https://www.stcatherinercc.org/single-post/how-many-the-great-saints-are-there and there are only a handful of other saints with that title. Considering the absolutely unprecedented collapse of the church under his reign (I freely admit much of it was beyond his control and he inherited an absolute mess) and a few other scandalous moments of his papacy—such as the time he allowed a Buddah statue to be placed on top of a tabernacle in Assisi as he sat idly by, or another time he kissed a Koran—it seems rather prudent to allow history to assign this title in due course. If new revelations about his life of exceptional holiness come forth, or he is proclaimed Doctor of the Church, perhaps I’ll change my tune. But until then, it seems safest to just call him “St. John Paul II”. Besides… who knows… there may be yet a JPIII coming down the pike who will better deserve the title.
