Quartz Ensemble – Program Notes

Program notes ©2023 by J. Michael Allsen

This concert brings together the Arizona Philharmonic and Prescott’s newest professional choir, the Quartz Ensemble.  We open with a late Romantic work, Rheinberger’s Stabat Mater: an emotional text focused the figure of Mary in the Passion story. The choral works of Eric Whitacre have been phenomenally popular in the last several years, and he is represented here by his Water Night. An early cantata by Bach is next, and the first half closes with a passionate call for peace by the Latvian master Pēteris Vasks. After intermission, we hear a sacred cantata by Medelssohn that pays tribute to Bach in its musical form. The last two works return to the Passion, and are a wonderfully effective pairing: a 17th-century Passion cantata by Buxtehude, and a 21st-century composition by Caroline Shaw written as a response to Buxtehude’s cantata.

PROGRAM

JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH

Der Herr denket an uns und signet uns, BWV 196

[Text & Translation]

  1. Sinfonia
  2. Chorus: Der Herr denket an uns
  3.  Aria: Er segnet, die den Herrn fürchten
  4.  Duet: Der Herr segne euch je mehr und mehr
  5. Chorus: Ihr seid die Gesegneten des Herrn

Pēteris VASKS

Dona nobis pacem

[Text & Translation]

FELIX MENDELSSOHN

Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten

[Text & Translation]

  1. Chorus: Mein Gott, du weißt am allerbesten das
  2. Chorus: Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten
  3. Aria: Er kennt die rechten Freudesstunden
  4. Chorus: Sing, bet und geh auf Gottes Wegen

JOSEPH RHEINBERGER

Stabat Mater in G minor, Op. 138

[Text & Translation]

  • Stabat mater dolorosa
    Quis est homo qui non fleret
    Eia mater, fons amoris
    Virgo virginum praeclara

INTERMISSION

ERIC WHITACRE

Water Night

DIETERICH BUXTEHUDE

Membra Jesu nostri, Part III. Ad manus

[Text & Translation]

  1. Sonata
  2. Concerto: Quid sunt plagae istae
  3. Aria: Salve Jesu pastor bone
  4. Aria: Manus sanctae, vos amplector
  5. Aria: In cruore tuo lotum
  6. Concerto: Quid sunt plagae istae

CAROLINE SHAW

To the Hands (from Seven Responses)

[Text & Translation]

I. Prelude: wordless

II. in medio/in the midst

III. Her beacon-hand beckons

IV. ever ever ever

V. Litany of the Displaced

VI. i will hold you

Notes

Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)

Der Herr denket an uns und signet uns, BWV 196

Background

The great majority of Bach’s nearly 250 surviving sacred cantatas were written in the 1720s, during his first few years working as a church musician in Leipzig.  However, he also composed cantatas for most of his earlier postings, and Der Herr denket an uns und signet uns was one of his very earliest cantatas, probably written while he was organist at the church of St. Blasius in Mülhausen in 1707-1708. The idea that this was a wedding cantata can be traced to Bach’s great 19th-century biographer Philipp Spitta. Bach met Maria Barbara Bach (his second cousin) while he was in his previous posting in Arnstadt, and on October 17, 1707, four months after he moved to Mülhausen, they were married. The wedding ceremony was at Dornheim, near Arnstadt probably because the minister there, Johann Stauber, was a close family friend. Regarding the cantata, Spitta noted that its text from Psalm 115, with references to the “house of Aaron” and to “your children” implied that this cantata may have been intended for the wedding of a widower with children from his previous marriage…and that, in fact, just such a marriage occurred at the right time and within Bach’s close personal circle. On June 17, 1708 Johann Stauber, a widower with children, married Regina Wedemann from Arnstadt (who was also Maria Barbara Bach’s aunt). While must modern biographers point out that there is no other evidence that supports a connection between Der Herr denket an uns and this wedding—or any wedding for that matter—no one seems to ready to completely dismiss Spitta’s theory.

What You’ll Hear

The cantata begins with a Sinfonia for strings and continuo in the French style: relaxed dotted rhythms, interrupted briefly in the middle by a short, more impassioned violin passage. The first chorus (Der Herr denket an uns) is lively and contrapuntal, with the closing lines set as a fugue that includes an obbligato decoration from the violins. The expressive minor-key soprano aria (Er segnet, die den Herrn fürchten) is set in the typical operatic da capo form, where the opening section is repeated at the end. It also features a lively interplay between the soprano and violin. The duo (Der Herr segne euch je mehr und mehr) begins as a passacaglia—music above a repeating bass line—but Bach soon abandons this for a freer approach, with the two male soloists in alternation with the strings. The cantata ends with an exuberant final chorus (Ihr seid die Gesegneten des Herrn) that features a dramatically expanded Amen.

Pēteris Vasks (b. 1946)

Dona nobis pacem

Background

Pēteris Vasks, Latvia’s leading contemporary composer, began his career as a double bassist, performing with orchestras in Latvia and Lithuania. As with all composers living under the old Soviet Union, Vasks worked under the repressive control of Soviet artistic policies, in which music was to serve the purposes of the State. In Latvia, as in its Baltic neighbors Estonia and Lithuania, music—and particularly choral music—became a potent symbol of resitance.  Vasks’s works, frequently expressing deep pride in Latvia and containing subtly anti-Soviet messages, were often suppressed, but as the Soviet Union crumbled in the late 1980s and Latvia became fully independent in 1991, Vasks and his music became a source of national pride. While his early compositions had been works in the avant garde tradition, by the 1980s, Vasks had joined several other composers—Estonia’s Arvo Pärt, Britain’s John Tavener, Poland’s Henryk Gorécki, and others—in embracing what writers of the time dubbed the “new simplicity.” This music, partly a reaction against the atonal complexity of modernist styles, was essentially tonal and directly expressive.

Vasks often takes an activist stance in his works: there are several pieces, for example that express his fervent environmentalism. His Dona nobis pacem, written in 1996 for the Latvian Radio Choir, takes its text from the Latin Mass, the concluding words of the Agnus Dei: Dona nobis pacem (Grant us peace). While it might seem audacious to build a 15-minute composition from three words, Vasks explains: 

“Only three words, but do we even need more? It is one of the shortest prayers, but possibly the most concentrated… I think that, no matter how beautiful God’s creation, so much of it has been ruined that only by asking the Almighty for peace can we be saved. These words are so all encompassing—Dona nobis pacem—first for each one of us individually and then for us all together.”

What You’ll Hear

Beginning simply and solemnly, with phases springing from a single pitch, Dona nobis pacem evolves in a relaxed way through different textures towards a climactic and impassioned chorale. There is a pause after this emotional peak, and the final section returns to the simple, prayerful opening texture.

Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)

Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten

Background

After his death, the music of J.S. Bach fell quickly out of fashion, though Mozart, Beethoven, and many other later musicians closely studied his keyboard music.  It was only in the early 19th century that Bach’s choral and orchestral works began once again to be heard frequently on concert programs and appreciated by a wide audience.  One of the musicians responsible for this rehabilitation was Felix Mendelssohn. Mendelssohn championed Bach’s music throughout his career, edited several of Bach’s works, and even led some of the first 19th-century performances of the Passions and cantatas. If Mendelssohn clearly paid tribute to Handel in his great oratorios St. Paul and Elijah, he was no less affected by Bach’s music.  In about 1829, he wrote to a friend that 

“I have composed several works [as] the result of compulsion, just as one is sometimes led to read a particular book, the Bible. and derives a sense of satisfaction from doing so.  If there is a resemblance to Seb. Bach I can’t help that, because I have written as I feel the need to, and if the works have an association with old Bach, so much the better.”  

Several of Mendelssohn’s sacred works have a distinctly “Bachian” sound, and in eight cantatas written between 1827 and 1834, he borrowed one of “old Bach’s” tried and true forms, the chorale cantata: in which each successive movement sets verses from a Lutheran chorale (hymn).  One of these is the cantata Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten (Whoever lets only the dear God reign), written in Berlin in 1829.  In this case, Mendelssohn drew upon a chorale published by Georg Neumark in 1657. Bach wrote a cantata on the same chorale: BWV 93, written in Leipzig in 1724, though Mendelssohn used a different selection and ordering of verses. Comparing his cantata with the Bach setting, Mendelssohn commented: “I still find various passages in my work very good, sometimes almost better (but other times less so, of course) and that I even come close to old Sebastian in certain passages.” Wer nur den lieben Gott was not published in Mendelssohn’s lifetime and was in fact not discovered until the 1970s and was published in 1976.

What You’ll Hear

The first movement (Mein Gott, du weisst am allerbesten das), as in many of Bach’s chorale cantatas, is a simple four-part harmonization of the chorale. This melody become the basis for much more complicated texture in the second movement (Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walte), where the basses have the melody in slow values in support of complicated counterpoint in the upper voices. The soprano aria (Er kennt die rechten Freudesstunden) is much brighter and freer in character. In the last movement (Sing, bet und geh auf Gottes Wegen) Mendelssohn turns to one of Bach’s favorite textures: the choir sings the chorale melody in unison, and in widely-spaced phases, above a turbulent string background.

 

Joseph Rheinberger (1839-1901)

Stabat Mater in G minor, Op. 138

Background

Born in the tiny principality of Liechtenstein, Rheinberger was already serving as organist at the parish church in his home town of Vaduz when he was age seven. At age 12, he arrived in Munich, the capital of Bavaria, to study at the Conservatory there, He would spend the rest of his life in the city, holding several increasingly prestigious positions. Rheinberger was organist in several of Munich’s churches, culminating in his appointment as court organist the royal church of St. Michael in 1883.  He was on the faculty of the music conservatory by 1859, initially teaching piano and then also composition, and was finally appointed Professor of Composition 1n 1876. He was appointed Kapellmeister to the royal court, in 1877. Though Rheinberger composed operas and stage works, several orchestral pieces, chamber music, and several works for piano, he is known today primarily for his organ compositions and several fine sacred vocal works: 14 Masses, cantatas, motets, hymns, three Requiems, and two settings of the Stabat Mater.

The Latin poem Stabat mater dolorosa has been ascribed to the Franciscan poet Francesco da Todi (d. ca. 1306), to the 13th-century Pope Innocent III, and to several other authors.  While the identity of the poet remains in doubt, it seems to have originated in Italy as a devotional poem among 13th-century Franciscans, and it was sung as hymn in popular worship.  In the 15th century, it became an official part of the Latin liturgy, as a sequence in Masses sung for the Virgin Mary.  From the 18th century onwards, it has been part of the Feast of the Seven Sorrows of Mary (September 15).  This passionate poem addresses Mary as a weeping mother keeping vigil at the cross. Stabat mater has received hundreds of musical treatments, among them Renaissance settings by Palestrina and Lasso, 18th-century versions by Vivaldi, Pergolesi, and Haydn, grand Romantic settings by Rossini, Verdi, and Dvorák, and 20th-century Stabat maters by Poulenc, Pärt, and Penderecki.  

The Stabat Mater in G minor, set for chorus, string orchestra and organ, dates from the summer of 1884. Rheinberger suffered from several health conditions in his later life, including a painful inflammation in his right hand that persisted for several years. He had vowed to write a Stabat Mater setting if the condition improved, and when it cleared up in early 1884, he fulfilled his vow with this work. He conducted the first performance at St. Michael’s church on Good Friday (April 3), 1885.

What You’ll Hear

Rheinberger sets the text in four sections, the first opening with a solemn lament from the men, and continuing in the same serious tone.  A short orchestral interlude sets off the second section (Quis est homo qui non fleret), a passionate expression of sympathy for Mary’s suffering. The opening lament by the men returns at the beginning of the third section (Eia mater, fons amoris), but this gentle supplication to Mary, asking to bear part of her pain, is carried first by the women’s voices. The fourth section (Virgo virginum praeclara) opens with a striking unison passage, breaking into glorious harmony for the climactic prayer Fac me cruce custodiri (Let me be guarded by the cross).  The final stanza, a personal prayer for redemption, is set as a grand fugue.

Eric Whitacre (b. 1970)

Water Night

Eric Whitacre is one of America’s most popular composers, and has an immediately-recognizable and accessible musical style.  Though he has composed many large works for orchestra and band, he is certainly best known for his successful choral music. Whitacre is also a pioneer in using social media and digital technology to create performances of his works. He has used his groundbreaking “Virtual Choirs”—digitally bringing together tracks from many individual singers to create a complete performance—to showcase several of this works. The first of these, in 2010, sang his gorgeous Lux Aurumque.  In 2020, during the pandemic lockdown Virtual Choir 6 premiered his Sing Gently, with a group of 17,652 singers from 129 countries! 

Whitacre’s Water Night, an a capella work composed in 1995, sets an English translation of a poem by Nobel Prize-winning Mexican poet Octavio Paz. It is dedicated to one of his mentors, choral conductor Bruce Mayhall. Whitacre recalled that in January 1995, he had a “four hour conversation” with Mayhall that he credits with convincing him to stay the course in his musical studies. According to Whitacre, he went home wanting to compose a piece to show his appreciation, and when he opened his book of Paz’s poetry: 

“I can’t really describe what happened. The music sounded in the air as I read the poem, as if it were a part of the poetry. I just started taking dictation as fast as I could, and the thing was basically finished in about 45 minutes. I have never experienced anything like it, before or since, and with my limited vocabulary I can only describe it as a pure and perfect and simple gift. It has become one of my most popular pieces, and I’ve heard countless people who sing it or hear it describing the same feeling I had when I wrote it down. I remain eternally grateful for this gift.”  

What You’ll Hear

He also noted that “the tight harmonies and patient unfolding seemed to pour from the poetry from the first reading, singing its magic even after the English translation. Water Night is simply the natural musical expression of this beautiful poem.” Water Night is calm and ethereal music, filled with piquant harmonies that express the text perfectly. 

Dieterich Buxtehude (ca.1637-1707)

Membra Jesu nostri, Part III. Ad manus 

Background

Though Buxtehude is one of the towering figures of the German Baroque, we are unsure just when and where he was born. His family name originates near Hamburg, but Buxtehude identified himself as Danish, and certainly spent most of his early life on the Danish side of the border. He probably received his early training from his father, who was an organist in Elsinore. By 1658, Buxtehude was organist at a church in Helsingborg, before returning to Elsinore two years later as organist to the German-speaking congregation of the Marienkirche there. Upon the death of Franz Tunder, organist of the Marienkirche in the fabulously wealthy port of Lübeck, he applied for the position, and was selected for the job just after Easter in 1668. Shortly after he arrived in Lübeck in July of that year, he married Tunder’s youngest daughter. It’s not entirely clear whether or not this marriage was a condition of employment, but it clearly became a Lübeck tradition: when Buxtehude himself died in 1707, his successor was quite clearly expected to marry Buxtehude’s only surviving daughter! Buxtehude flourished in Lübeck, and by the turn of the 18th century was clearly one of the most widely respected musicians in Germany: several composers of the next generation followed his style, and some made the journey to Lübeck to visit or study with him. In 1703 Georg Friederich Händel and Johann Mattheson, then teenagers working together in Hamburg, made the 50-mile trip to visit Buxtehude in Lübeck. (The ambitious Händel clearly had an eye on succeeding the aging master, but was apparently scared off by the “marriage clause!”) An even more famous Buxtehude pilgrimage was in 1705, when a 20-year-old Johann Sebastian Bach took a leave from his position in Arnstadt to walk 250 miles to Lübeck.

One of the finest of Buxtehude’s 150 sacred works is his Membra Jesu nostri (Limbs of Our Jesus) of 1680.  This is a set of seven Latin cantatas on the Passion, each of them a meditation on Christ’s crucified body, with successive cantataon on the feet, the knees, the hands, the side, the breast, the heart, and the face. The texts were largely drawn from a medieval poem, Salve mundi salutare, traditionally credited to Bernard of Clairvaux (d. 1153), but was probably by a later member of Bernard’s Cistercian Order, Arnulf of Leuven (d.1250). Though Lübeck was a thoroughly Lutheran city, Latin music, including the Latin Mass, was frequently heard in the Marienkirche, and the intensely personal and pious language of the Membra also fit well with the Pietist strain of Lutheranism in the late 17th century. This work was probably not intended for use during a service, but rather for one of the famous Abendmusik performances: public concerts Buxtehude directed at the Marienkirche.

What You’ll Hear

At this program, we hear the third cantata, Ad Manus (To the Hands). After the brief opening Sonata, the cantata opens with a choral “concerto” (at this time in Germany, describing a piece that combined voices and instruments). This piece (Quid sunt plagae istae), a Biblical insertion into Arnulf’s poem, serves as an emotional prelude and postlude to the cantata. There are then three short arias sung with continuo and set off by short string passages. In the first of these (Salve Jesu pastor bone), the soprano lingers expressively on the words lignum (cross) and expansis (spread wide), while in the second soprano aria (Manus sanctae, vos amplector) it is lacrimas (tears) that come in for special attention. The final aria (In cruore tuo lotum), the focus is on the personal closing prayer for salvation. The cantata ends with a reprise of Quid sunt plagae istae.

Caroline Shaw (b. 1982)

To the Hands (from Seven Responses)

Background

One of America’s leading contemporary composers, Pulitzer Prize recipient Caroline Shaw describes herself as “a musician who moves among roles, genres, and mediums, trying to imagine a world of sound that has never been heard before but has always existed.” She has composed over 100 commissioned works in the last decade, ranging from orchestral works and film scores to chamber music. In addition to her credits as a composer, Shaw works extensively as a performer on violin and percussion (touring with the ensemble So Percussion). She is also in demand as a vocalist, both as a soloist and with the contemporary vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth. Shaw’s To the Hands was composed in 2016, as part of an innovative project titled Seven Responses, which was commissioned by vocal ensemble The Crossing. The ensemble’s director, Donald Nally explains:

Seven Responses was born out of a desire to explore how artists address the suffering of others today and yesterday… We asked seven of the world’s foremost composers to create musical responses to Dieterich Buxtehude’s Membra Jesu nostri (1680), an iconic sacred oratorio of the German Baroque consisting of seven cantatas, each addressed to one of the limbs of Jesus hanging on the cross.”

At the premiere in Philadelphia, in June 2016, The Crossing collaborated with early music ensemble Quicksilver and the International Contemporary Ensemble to present both Membra Jesu nostri and the Seven Responses, alternating Buxtehude’s cantatas with the contemporary responses to each of them.  At this program, we present one of these pairings, following Buxtehude’s Ad manus with Shaw’s To the Hands. 

What You’ll Hear

Shaw provides the following note on her work:

“How does one respond to an image of another person’s pain? And how does one respond to the music of another artist who is trying to ask that same question? These are the two queries that anchored my approach to The Crossing’s incredible Seven Responses project. To the Hands begins and ends with strains of Buxtehude’s own Ad manus, with small harmonic and melodic references woven occasionally throughout. The division of the piece into six parts reflects the partitioning of Membra Jesu nostri, and I continued the tradition of blending old text with new. 

“The first movement acts as a prelude and turns the opening tune of Ad manus into a wordless plainchant melody. The second movement fragments Buxtehude’s setting of the central question, “quid sunt plagae istae in medio manuum tuarum,” or “what are these wounds in the midst of your hands?” It settles finally on an inversion of the question, so that we reflect, “What are these wounds in the midst of our hands?” We notice what may have been done to us, but we also question what we have done and what our role has been in these wounds we see before us.

“The text that follows in the third movement is a riff on Emma Lazarus’ sonnet The New Colossus, famous for its engraving at the base of the Statue of Liberty. The poem’s lines “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” and its reference to the statue’s “beacon-hand” present a very different image of a hand — one that is open, beckoning, and strong. No wounds are to be found there — only comfort for those caught in a dangerous and complex environment. While the third movement operates in broad strokes from a distance, the fourth zooms in on the map so far that we see the intimate scene of an old woman in her home, maybe setting the table for dinner alone. Who is she, where has she been, whose lives has she left? This simple image melts into a meditation on the words in caverna from the Song of Solomon, found in Buxtehude’s fourth section, Ad latus [To the Side].

“In the fifth movement the harmony is passed around from one string instrument to another, overlapping only briefly, while numerical figures are spoken by the choir. These are global figures of internally displaced persons, by country, sourced from the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC) data reported in May 2015 (accessed on 20/03/2016 at www.internal-displacement.org). Sometimes data is the cruelest and most honest poetry. 

“The sixth and final movement unfolds the words in caverna into the tumbling and comforting promise of “ever ever” – “ever ever will I hold you, ever ever will I enfold you.” They could be the words of Christ, or of a parent or friend or lover, or even of a nation.”

The six movements are a fascinating and effective response to the Buxtehude original. (A personal note: in preparing these program notes, I made a point to listen to Ad manus and To the Hands together, as you will hear them tonight. I found it to be a truly moving experience. -JMA) The opening presents a haunting take on Buxtehude’s sonata that leads directly into in medio/in the midst with its distorted echos of the cantata’s choral movement.  The third movement is a kind of tour de force for unaccompanied voices, with a warm and hopeful ending. In ever ever ever, the opening choral music, a picture of quiet loneliness, unfolds over a crystalline background of string harmonics.  There is a sudden break in mood and a heartening ending on “in caverna.” The fifth movement has a simple texture: an agitated string figure that accompanies and is sometimes interrupted by the choir’s spoken numbers. As Shaw notes, the emotional effect of this recitation is devastating. The final movement is more uplifting, with a return of the ending music of ever ever ever, and—as in Buxtehude’s original—the deeply satisfying reprise of music from the opening chorus.

Texts and Translations

Bach

Der Herr denket an uns und signet uns, BWV 196

GermanEnglish
1. Sinfonia
2. Chorus
Der Herr denket an uns
und segnet uns.

Er segnet das Haus Israel,
er segnet das Haus Aaron.
The Lord thinks of us
and blesses us
He blesses the house of Israel,
he blesses the house of Aaron.
3. Aria (Soprano)
Er segnet, die den Herrn fürchten, beide Kleine und Grosse. He blesses those who fear the Lord,
both small and great.
4. Duet: Tenor and Bass
Der Herr segne euch je mehr und mehr,
euch und eure Kinder.
May the Lord bless you more and more,
you and your descendants.
5. Chorus
Ihr seid die Gesegneten des Herrn,
der Himmel und Erde gemacht hat. Amen. Amen.
You are the blessed of the Lord,
who has made heaven and earth.
Psalm 115: 12-15]

Vasks

Dona nobis pacem

LatinEnglish
Dona nobis pacem.Grant us peace.
[from the Agnus Dei of the Latin Mass]

Mendelssohn

Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten

GermanEnglish
1. Chorus
Mein Gott, du weisst am allerbesten das,
was mir gut und nützlich sei.

Hinweg mit allem Menschenwesen,
weg mit dem eigenen Gebäu.
Gib, Herr, dass ich auf dich nur bau
und dir alleine ganz vertrau.
My God, you know best of all what
is good and useful to me.
Away with all human existence,
away with our vain constructions.

Grant, Lord, that I might only rely on you
and trust in you alone.
2. Chorus
Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten,
reign
und hoffet auf ihn allezeit,

den wird er wunderlich erhalten
in allem Kreuz und Traurigkeit.

 Wer Gott, dem Allerhöchsten, traut,
God
der hat auf keinen Sand gebaut.
Whoever lets only the dear God,
and hopes in him at all times,
he will preserve in a marvelous way
in every torment and sadness.
Whoever trusts in almighty,
has not built upon sand.
3. Aria (Soprano)

Er kennt die rechten Freudesstunden,
er weiß wohl, wenn es nützlich sei;
wenn er uns nur hat treu erfunden

und merket keine Heuchelei.
So kömmt Gott, eh wir uns versehn,

und lässet uns viel Guts geschehn.
He knows the right hours of joy,

he knows well when it is needful;

if only he has found us faithful
and marks no hypocrisy.

Then God comes, before we are aware of him,
and allows much good to happen to us.

4. Chorus
Sing, bet und geh auf Gottes Wegen,
Verricht das Deine nur getreu
und trau des Himmels reichem Segen,

So wird er bei dir werden neu;
denn welcher seine Zuversicht

Auf Gott setzt, den verlässt er nicht.
Sing, pray and go on God's way.

Just perform your part faithfully

and trust in the rich blessing of heaven,
then he will be with you anew;

for whoever places his confidence
in God, God will never abandon.
[Georg Neumark]

JOSEPH RHEINBERGER

Stabat Mater in G minor, Op. 138

LatinEnglish
Stabat mater dolorosa
juxta crucem lacrimosa
dum pendebat filius.
The grieving mother
stood weeping by the cross
on which her son was hanging.
Cuius animam gementem
contristatam et dolentem
pertransivit gladius.
Though her sighing soul
anguished and grieving,
was pierced by a sword.
O quam tristis et afflicta
fuit illa benedicta
mater unigeniti.
Oh how sad and afflicted
was that blessed mother
of the only-begotten one.
Quae moerebat et dolebat,
et tremebat cum videbat
nati poenas inclyti.
Who mourned and grieved,
and trembled as she watched
the pain of her glorious child.
Quis est homo qui non fleret
Christi matrem si videret
in tanto supplicio?
What person would not weep
to see the mother of Christ
in such torture?
Quis non posset contristari,
piam matrem contemplari
dolentem cum filio?
Who would not be saddened
seeing the dear mother
suffering with her son?
Pro peccatis suae gentis
vidit Jesum in tormentis,
et flagellis subditum.
For the sins of his people
she saw Jesus in torment
and subjected to the lash.
Vidit suum dulcem natum
moriendem desolatum
dum emisit spiritum.
She saw her sweet child
dying forsaken,
as he gave up his spirit.
Eia mater, fons amoris!
Me sentire vim doloris,
fac ut tecum lugeam.
Come then, O mother, fount of love!
Make me feel the strength of your grief,
that I may mourn with you.
Fac, ut ardeat cor meum
in amando Christum Deum
ut sibi complaceam.
Grant that my heart may burn
in the love of Christ my Lord,
that I may please him.
Sancta mater, istud agas
crucifixi fige plagas
cordi meo valide.
Holy mother, grant that
the wounds of the crucified
may drive deep into my heart.
Tui nati vulnerati,
jam dignati pro me pati,
poenas mecum divide.
Your wounded son,
who consented to suffer for me,
may I share his pain.
Fac me vere tecum flere,
crucifixo condolere,
donec ego vixero.
Let me sincerely weep with you,
empathizing with the crucified one
as long as I live.
Juxta crucem tecum stare,
te libenter sociare
in planctu desidero.
To stand by the cross with you,
and to gladly share in your
weeping is my desire.
Virgo virginum praeclara,
mihi jam non sis amara
fac me tecum plangere.
Virgin exalted among virgins,
be not bitter with me;
let me weep with you.
Fac ut portem Christi mortem
passionis fac consortem,
et plagas recolere.
Let me bear Christ's death,
the fate of his passion,
and contemplate his wounds.
Fac me plagis vulnerari, 
   cruce hac inebriari
  ob amorem filii
Let me be wounded by his wounds,
  intoxicated by the cross,
  for the love of the Son.
Inflammatus et accensus
per te, virgo, sim defensus
in die iudicii.
Lest I burn and be set on fire,
may I be defended by you, O virgin,
on the day of judgement.
Fac me cruce custodiri
morte Christi praemunire
confoveri gratia.
Let me be guarded by the cross,
fortified by the death of Christ,
cherished by grace.
Quando corpus morietur,
fac ut animae donetur
Paradisi gloria.
When my body dies,
may my soul be granted
the glory of Heaven.

Buxtehude

Membra Jesu nostri, Part III. Ad manus

LatinEnglish
1. Sonata
2. Concerto (Chorus)
Quid sunt plagae istae
in medio manuum tuarum?
What are those wounds
in the midst of your hands?
[Zechariah, 13:6]
3. Aria (Soprano)

Salve Jesu pastor bone,
fatigatus in agone,
qui per lignum es distractus,
et ad lignum es compactus,
expansis sanctis manibus.
Hail Jesus, good shepherd,

wearied by agony,
tortured on the cross,
nailed to the cross,

your sacred hands stretched wide. and allows much good to happen to us.

4. Aria (Soprano)
SManus sanctae, vos amplector,
et gemendo condelector,
grates ago plagis tantis,
clavis duris, guttis sanctis,
dans lacrimas cum oculis.
Most holy hands, I embrace you,

and, lamenting, I delight in you,
I give thanks for the awful wounds,
the hard nails, the holy drops,
shedding tears with kisses.
5. Aria (Alto, Tenor, and Bass)
In cruore tuo lotum,
me commendo tibi totum.
Tuae sanctae manus istae
me defendant, Jesu Christe,
extremis in periculis.
Washed in your blood,
I entrust myself entirely to you.
May your holy hands
defend me, Jesus Christ,
in my final hour of need.
[Arnulf of Leuven]
6. Concerto (Chorus)
Quid sunt plagae istae
in medio manuum tuarum?
What are those wounds
in the mist of Thy hands?

Shaw

To the Hands (from Seven Responses)

Performers

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