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As a gifted musician and composer, |
| Together with colleagues such as Carol Price and Carrie
Nixon, Jeff aspires to preserve, perfect, and with due
discretion to add to the rich heritage of plainsong and
polyphony alike. The Chabanel Psalms may be of special
interest, because like the liturgical polyphonic creations
of many eras, they are impelled by the tranquil currents
of Gregorian tradition while also drawing upon various
elements of contemporary musical culture, sacred and
secular.
Thus as Jeff explains in a fascinating exposition of the modus operandi of his Psalm settings, he is especially influenced by the Belgian school of chant accompaniment exemplified by Flor Peeters and the Nova Organi Harmonia. While the Belgian style evolved through the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it has some elements which seem very much in resonance with the early 21st century also. First of all, Jeff understands that even a simple "accompaniment" should be looked at ideally as a meeting of coherent melodic lines, a contrapuntal virtue that makes his textures apt for an organ accompaniment or a performance by a vocal ensemble. Another notable aspect of the mature Belgian style to be heard in the Chabanel Psalms is the feasibility and effectiveness of basing an accompanying texture on the diatonic notes of the chant itself. While accidental inflections sometimes occur in 12th-13th century polyphonic settings, and are standard in 14th-17th century modal practice, Jeff brilliantly draws upon a 20th-century tradition of diatonic modality, sacred and secular, in the Chabanel cycle for the liturgical year. To be precise, I should add that some chants treat fluidly the degree of B/Bb (German H/B), with both forms of this degree being considered part of the "regular" or musica recta gamut. However, as in much 12th-13th century polyphony and also the masterful Belgian settings, we find also in the Chabanel cycle that other types of inflections, for example to achieve ascending or descending semitonal melodic movements at cadences, are not required in order to write convincing and satisfying conclusions. This liberating lesson leaves one with many alternatives in setting the chant, with inflections as one historical option rather than a mistaken categorical imperative. As a medievalist especially interested in the polyphonic Gothic tradition of the 13th and 14th centuries, I may have a special aural vantage point in appreciating another feature of these settings: the use of evocative and fitting sonorities with a very rich history. Thus we often hear the fifth and fourth together above a bass note: Is this a mildly unstable but relatively concordant sonority in the style of Perotin around 1200; or a suspension in the manner of classic 16th-century polyphony; or quintal/quartal harmony in a 20th-century fashion à la Debussy and Bartok? Similarly, as Jeff notes, a very characteristic sonority is a minor seventh plus a fifth or minor third above the bass, a "minor-minor seventh" as he described it; and also the more dramatic tension of a major seventh and third above the bass, a "major-major seventh." It is fascinating that Perotin and his 13th-century colleagues made very effective use of both these sonorities in a Gothic context, with Machaut in the following century showing a proclivity for the minor seventh, which the theorist Jacobus of Liege around 1325 actually classified as an "imperfect concord." Of course, Perotin and Machaut were composing in styles where thirds and sixths were decidedly unstable intervals, while the Belgian school and Chabanel settings are largely tertian in nature, but also quite catholic in drawing on a variety of interval structures. For one attuned to history, the allusions and resonances (whether in the ear of the composer or the listener) will be rich and at the same time exquisitely consonant with the nature of the chant. After about 1150 years of attested polyphonic chant settings, this situation may be almost inevitable; and the Chabanel Psalms handle it with musical taste and reverent grace. In striving to further the "development" of chant-based polyphony, Jeff delicately balances liturgical propriety with artistic possibility. I am reminded of St. Carlo Borromeo, who as a Cardinal interested in exploring the range of "intelligible music" (meaning especially clarity of text) which the Council of Trent had decreed, was ready to invite settings of the Mass from various composers, including Nicola Vicentino, famous for his chromatic and indeed "enharmonic" or microtonal techniques. Also, one recalls St. Roberto Bellarmine, who admired the beauty of a new madrigal collection and composed spiritual texts which would be suitable for singing in religious communities. As a tour of Jeff's sites on the Web will make clear, the Chabanel Psalms represent one side of a movement to celebrate the heritage of plainsong and polyphony, a movement which can be expressed in many styles of composition and performance, sometimes drawing on modern digital technologies. Thus I delighted to hear performances of 16th-century polyphony in mp3 audio format, one of which featured his colleague Carol Price singing not one but three of the voices of a transporting Nanini setting of Laudate pueri, while Jeff sung the lowest voice, something made possible by a kind of electronic layering. Intended in part as a present to Carol's mother, this recording is also a gift to all the world, and to our common Creator. Another very moving piece is a setting by Carrie Nixon of Lux Aeterna from the Requiem Mass, composed in a style that might suggest the fauxbourdon of the early Dufay around 1425, and for me also evoked a Passion setting of this epoch from England. The great purity and "transparency" of the voices made a special impression upon me, with this luminous transparency fitting both the musical style and the text. Polyphonic liturgical cycles have a long history, with the Magnus liber organi developed by Leonin and his successors in the late 12th century as a very famous example. In times of liturgical tension and reappraisal, as in the Tridentine era and also today, such endeavors may have a special importance in not only continuing a tradition of musical creativity from generation to generation, but also addressing and finding a satisfying resolution to a crisis of musical and spiritual direction alike. The Chabanel Psalms are an invitation for those of us who compose or improvise chant-based polyphony to go and do likewise, perhaps setting off on other directions which may be at once "ever old and ever new," and more richly informed by this most outstanding example. — Margo Schulter |
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