Program Notes
One of the most common types of Orthodox icon features the Theotokos, the ‘Godbearer,’ and depicts the Blessed Virgin Mary, usually with the Christ-child on her lap (or, occasionally, mystically represented in her womb). This program likewise focuses on the heavenly duo of Mother and Child, with music in honor of the Virgin Mary interspersed with a grand mass celebrating the birth of her child, Jesus.
In fact, it was not only the birth of the Christ being celebrated in Thomas Tallis’s mass, but the expectation of another child King. In 1554, Queen Mary had recently married Philip of Spain, in a union designed to strengthen England’s newly-restored bond to Roman Catholicism (after the Protestant dalliances of her brother’s short reign). In addition, Mary seemed to most observers to be pregnant. Accordingly, there is a sense of jubilance in Tallis’s grand, seven-voice mass, which was likely first performed at this time. It is based on the plainsong Puer natus est nobis – ‘A boy is born to us, and a son is given to us whose government shall be upon his shoulders.’ Even though the text of the chant is not used, the allusion encoded into the DNA of the music would have been picked up by those who heard it. It was an expression of hope, that the throne of Catholic England might be granted the security of a male heir.
The unusual original scoring of the work—seven voices at low pitch —can probably be attributed to the presence of Philip’s Capilla Flamenca, or ‘Flemish Chapel Choir’, who would have accompanied their King to England. It is conceivable that the mass was envisaged for joint performance by the two royal choirs together. Philip’s choir also contained composers of considerable repute, including Philippe de Monte. It’s not inconceivable that Tallis saw an occasion to demonstrate the virtues of English music to his continental rival.
The English composer rose to the challenge, demonstrating virtuosic skill in the assembly of the mass. The plainchant is slowed down, and runs in long notes in the tenor voice. The composer juxtaposes this (by this time somewhat old-fashioned) technique with more modern features which were associated with ‘continental’ composition, such as close imitation between the other voices. This allows him to maintain musical interest while the chant is deployed in such long notes (in the Agnus Dei, one such note sounds for a nearly unbroken stretch of thirty-one bars!). An unusual, even experimental work, the mass must surely have impressed those who heard it, in its skillful composition and fervor.
Around fifty years later, Tallis’ colleague William Byrd embarked on a monumental project: a complete set of compositions for use in the ceremonies of the Catholic Church. The following selection of motets, drawn from the Gradualia collection, mostly belong to the celebration of a Votive Mass for the Blessed Virgin. The strophic, intimate Ave maris stella is for only three voices, providing an immediate textural contrast with Tallis’s mass. Rorate Caeli, featuring the powerful imagery of the heavens coming down to earth and raining righteousness upon it finds a match in Byrd’s fervent setting. Ever alive to the nuance of the words, the composer characterizes each section carefully, leading to a doxology of awesome solidity. Tollite portas is notable for its frequent rising melodic phrases to musically depict the lifting up of the gates, while Ecce virgo concipiet builds towards ringing repetitions of the name by which the child shall be called: Emmanuel.
Of John Nesbett’s life we know little, save that he worked for a time at Canterbury Cathedral. His Magnificat, an attractive and useful setting, is found in the Eton Choirbook, one of the most important sources of early Tudor polyphony to have survived. The piece alternates chanted verses of the canticle with full polyphony, exhibiting the unhurried and virtuosic style common to the pieces in this collection, and concludes with a ringing final ‘Amen.’
