By Scot Hanna-Weir
Benjamin Britten was an English composer, conductor, and pianist. He became the most significant English composer since Vaughan Williams, revitalizing the tradition of English opera, writing orchestral and chamber works, as well as writing a ton of vocal works for soloists, chamber ensembles, and of course, the best genre of all—choirs.
From an early age, a lot was expected of Britten musically. His mother, who was a singer and pianist, was incredibly demanding and controlling, dreaming that he would become ‘the fourth B’ (joining Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms). By the age of 14, Britten had written over 100 compositions, and his work convinced the well-regarded composer Frank Bridge to take him on as a composition student. He went on to study at the Royal College of Music in London where he was exposed to a wide variety of music and formed a variety of very strong opinions about the music he heard. He also began to garner some commercial success in his compositional efforts with some important publications and performances.
His first post-graduate employment was with the General Post Office Film Unit where he composed music for documentary projects. Besides practicing the ability to compose quickly and on demand, as well as developing a knack for matching aspects of film technique and sound effects that would influence his later compositional style, he also worked closely with W. H. Auden who quickly invited him into his group of artist friends. With Auden and company, Britten ‘embraced their values and politics’, rebelling against his more conservative upbringing and beginning a rift between him and his mother. In the company of these other like-minded individuals, Britten built a growing awareness of his own sexuality, and his friends served as a left-wing, pacifist, agnostic, and queer model for him.
In 1937, Britten’s mother died. Philip Brett describes Britten as both devastated and relieved, finally “free from her controlling influence.” Britten also met the tenor Peter Pears, with whom he developed a close friendship and musical relationship, which later became romantic.
In 1939, Britten and Pears left England for North America. Fleeing the increasing threat of fascism in Europe and what might be required of them as pacifists in the looming specter of war, they landed first in Canada and then went to New York to visit Aaron Copland. Britten wrote a number of important pieces during this period, including his first opera. They returned to England in April of 1942 with Britten seemingly intent on becoming the most significant musical force in England.
It was on his sea voyage back from America to England that Britten wrote A Ceremony of Carols, op. 28. He had found a copy of The English Galaxy of Shorter Poems, edited by Gerald Bullett in a book store during a brief docking in Halifax, Nova Scotia. When first opening the book, you don’t have to wait very long to get to some of the texts included in Britten’s final work. Adam lay ibounden is on page 4 (which becomes Deo Gracias), There is no rose is on the opposite page, and the text for As dew in Aprille is on page 6. These poems led to Britten’s idea for a Christmas themed choral work.
Originally, the work was conceived as a collection of individual pieces, but later Britten revised his thinking to create a holistic concert work. He added the processional and recessional on the Gregorian antiphon to the Magnificat at Second Vespers of Christmas, Hodie Christus natus est. To further unify the work, the middle movement is an interlude played by the harp that is a fantasia on the same tune. In this evening’s performance, we use A Ceremony of Carols as a kind of container for our larger celebration of carols from many different traditions, but keep intact the procession, recession, and middle interlude as a unifying element to the entire concert.
Ceremony of Carols was originally written as a work for treble choir and harp, but after its initial publication in 1942 a version for mixed choir version was published the following year. This is the version that we perform this evening, and while many movements have been reworked to make full use of the tenors and basses, some movements remain untouched, including the processional and recessional which are sung by the sopranos alone.
Following the processional, the first full choir piece is Wolcum Yole! This movement is an invitation to the celebration of the coming festival days: Yole (December 25th), Saint Stephen’s Day (December 26th), St. John’s Day (December 27th), Day of the Innocents (December 28), New Year (January 1), Twelfth Day (January 5), and Candlemas (February 2). This movement, as are many of the others, sets text in Middle English, so a modern translation has been included in your program book.
After the exuberant Wolcum Yole!, in There is no rose the harp sets up an ostinato in the bass of alternating between C and F while the sopranos and altos take the lead on a slowly diverging three part chordal texture. What starts off as a set of chords quite consonant and connected to the ostinato slowly journeys further and further away. However, the tenors and basses join after each verse on short Latin refrains on a unison C, connecting us back to the rocking accompaniment.
At this point in the program, we take our first diversion from the Britten and visit Latvia. The Chorale had the pleasure of touring in 2019 to Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, and so working on these three carols has been a special opportunity to revisit those fond memories. The singing tradition in the Baltics is quite old and solidly established, but these particular carols come from a tradition of Mummery that is an ancient custom originating from Pagan traditions. While Christianization began in the region in the 13th Century, many traditional celebrations, such as that of the summer solstice, continue to endure.
Mummers would go from house to house and be invited in to assure a fruitful harvest in the Spring. The group would expect to be received with various meats and traditional gifts such as hom-knit socks and mittens. Then, the mummers would sing and dance. Traditionally, the periods of mummery would be around St. Michael’s Day (September 29), the Autumn Festival, St. Martin’s Day (November 10), and Winterfest (December 24 - January 6).
Ziemassvētku Nakts, the first of the three carols, describes a beautifully serene scene at the darkening of the night, with particular focus on the fir tree forests. Elise Thomas adds further context:
“In Latvia the firtree forests are a dark blue from far away and the tops look like Gothic cathedral spires. Hence, ‘the firtree tower darkens blue.’ The light shadows of the trees sway – there is always a little breeze, at least.”
Meklētāja celš uses the imagery of the Christmas Rose blooming as a blossoming of hope in the birth of Christ. The piece begins in a low and dark hymn-like manner before filling with a buoyant joy in the second half as the piece turns to the beautiful light of childhood and the singing of the stars.
Finally, Ai, Nama Māmiņa is a song written in the dialect of Nica, a region in southwestern Latvia. Here the majority of the choir is taking on the role of a drum, accompanying the sopranos as they ask for gifts to be given to them. The refrain, kaladū, kaladū, translates as “alms” or “charity”.
Returning to the Britten, our Medieval English scholar collaborator, Bridget Whearty writes that That youngë child and Balulalow are:
Following this lullaby, there seems nothing more appropriate than joining together to sing Silent Night, the well-loved 1818 carol by Franz Gruber.
Our second diversion from the Britten comes in the form of four Spanish carols arranged by Oscar and Noé Sanchez. The first carol is a traditional Puerto Rican carol, Alegría, Alegría, Alegría, and describes the joyous time of being in Bethlehem the night of Jesus’ birth. In the first verse, the shepherds make their way to the city, in the second, the crowded and bustling city is described with no place for Mary to rest. Finally, in the third verses, birds from the forest come to sing for Mary and calm her fears.
El desembre congelat is a traditional Catalonian Carol that similarly to the Latvian carol, Meklētāja celš, begins by describing the Christmas rose. But in this carol, the rose is taken to its theological conclusion, becoming the Easter lily in the third verse. The final two carols are from Spain. First, Soy un pobre pastorcito is the story of a poor shepherd boy walking to Bethlehem to bring his gifts to the newborn Jesus. The chorus focuses on his journey, walking urgently because Mary and Joseph are waiting in the stable with their child. In response, we all go to Bethlehem in Vamos todos a Belén, following the star and singing for joy.
Again, Bridget Whearty writes:
The dew in April imagery is there to help the reader understand how it’s possible that a virgin could conceive. The idea here is that just as the dew appears in the morning, so can the mystery of the virgin birth occur.
This Little Babe stands in stark contrast to the contemplative mystery of the previous movement and presents a war between baby Jesus and Satan. The tempo is quick, the choir entrances become increasingly overlapping, and the harmony is dark and foreboding.
From this imagery of war, we turn to the stark coldness of winter as best understood by Minesotan composer Abbie Betinis in her setting of In the Bleak Midwinter. The evocative harmonies of the harp part coupled with swirling undercurrents of “snow on snow” do a lot to highlight the bleakness of the winter. However, at the appearance of Jesus, there is a palpable thaw as the harmony turns to D major. The arrangement then transitions to an a cappella verse with two soloists over the top wondering what they can bring the newborn child. At the conclusion, the choir unites to bring their hearts.
Abbie Betinis’ connection to carols is deep and long in her family, as she is the great granddaughter of Bates Burt and grand-niece of Alfred Burt, a family famous for sending freshly composed carols as Christmas cards to their friends and family. Betinis has continued this tradition with freshness and craftsmanship for many years, premiering each new carol on Minnesota Public Radio each year and sending the carols out with card art designed by her mother. For Donald Patriquin, he describes the rich connection the Carol of the Field Mice also has with his family:
For many of us, part of our traditions around the holidays include decking our halls with a variety of decorations, whether those be wreaths, garlands, trees, lights, or inflatable reindeers. Therefore, we can celebrate our collective traditions by joining together to sing Deck the Hall.
The harp reminds us of the Hodie that welcomed us initially during the Interlude from the Ceremony of Carols, and then introduces us to Stephen Paulus’ Three Nativity Carols. These settings owe a lot to the Britten in their use of older carol texts and of course the harp, but Paulus adds on the Oboe as an additional color. The Holly and the Ivy is a lively rhythmic approach to this familiar text with a melody and harmony that is adjacent to the traditional carol but definitely new. Each verse ends with a different surprising chord before each chorus enters with increasing complexity. This Endris Night is the There is no rose equivalent for Paulus with a relatively static harp accompaniment, but wandering choral writing that ventures away from the tonal norms before finally settling back on a long sustained open fifth at the very end of the movement. Wonder Tidings is alight with energy, perhaps in anticipation of Britten’s Deo Gracias that will soon arrive.
The last set of the Britten to conclude our concert begins with one of the most adventurous settings in the Ceremony. The harp sets up a simple pattern that over the course of the movement becomes increasingly embellished while the choir sings in a canon that becomes increasingly urgent until the climax of the piece. The end of the movement features the original harp ostinato, transferred into the choir while a small group of sopranos sing a final version of the melody.
Sometimes sung as a duet, but here sung by the sopranos and altos, Spring Carol looks forward to the coming of Spring. Not just the season, but also the commitment of God to care for humanity and to provide for our sustenance. The harp accompaniment evokes chirping birds and leaping animals while the sopranos and altos sing a lilting and hope-filled melody.
Deo Gracias sets the Adam lay ibounden text and is one of my personal favorite theological jungle gyms to navigate. Whearty explains:
And because of this remarkably bad, and yet incredibly good situation, we therefore sing Deo Gracias, thanks be to God.
Benjamin Britten was an English composer, conductor, and pianist. He became the most significant English composer since Vaughan Williams, revitalizing the tradition of English opera, writing orchestral and chamber works, as well as writing a ton of vocal works for soloists, chamber ensembles, and of course, the best genre of all—choirs.
From an early age, a lot was expected of Britten musically. His mother, who was a singer and pianist, was incredibly demanding and controlling, dreaming that he would become ‘the fourth B’ (joining Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms). By the age of 14, Britten had written over 100 compositions, and his work convinced the well-regarded composer Frank Bridge to take him on as a composition student. He went on to study at the Royal College of Music in London where he was exposed to a wide variety of music and formed a variety of very strong opinions about the music he heard. He also began to garner some commercial success in his compositional efforts with some important publications and performances.
His first post-graduate employment was with the General Post Office Film Unit where he composed music for documentary projects. Besides practicing the ability to compose quickly and on demand, as well as developing a knack for matching aspects of film technique and sound effects that would influence his later compositional style, he also worked closely with W. H. Auden who quickly invited him into his group of artist friends. With Auden and company, Britten ‘embraced their values and politics’, rebelling against his more conservative upbringing and beginning a rift between him and his mother. In the company of these other like-minded individuals, Britten built a growing awareness of his own sexuality, and his friends served as a left-wing, pacifist, agnostic, and queer model for him.
In 1937, Britten’s mother died. Philip Brett describes Britten as both devastated and relieved, finally “free from her controlling influence.” Britten also met the tenor Peter Pears, with whom he developed a close friendship and musical relationship, which later became romantic.
In 1939, Britten and Pears left England for North America. Fleeing the increasing threat of fascism in Europe and what might be required of them as pacifists in the looming specter of war, they landed first in Canada and then went to New York to visit Aaron Copland. Britten wrote a number of important pieces during this period, including his first opera. They returned to England in April of 1942 with Britten seemingly intent on becoming the most significant musical force in England.
It was on his sea voyage back from America to England that Britten wrote A Ceremony of Carols, op. 28. He had found a copy of The English Galaxy of Shorter Poems, edited by Gerald Bullett in a book store during a brief docking in Halifax, Nova Scotia. When first opening the book, you don’t have to wait very long to get to some of the texts included in Britten’s final work. Adam lay ibounden is on page 4 (which becomes Deo Gracias), There is no rose is on the opposite page, and the text for As dew in Aprille is on page 6. These poems led to Britten’s idea for a Christmas themed choral work.
Originally, the work was conceived as a collection of individual pieces, but later Britten revised his thinking to create a holistic concert work. He added the processional and recessional on the Gregorian antiphon to the Magnificat at Second Vespers of Christmas, Hodie Christus natus est. To further unify the work, the middle movement is an interlude played by the harp that is a fantasia on the same tune. In this evening’s performance, we use A Ceremony of Carols as a kind of container for our larger celebration of carols from many different traditions, but keep intact the procession, recession, and middle interlude as a unifying element to the entire concert.
Ceremony of Carols was originally written as a work for treble choir and harp, but after its initial publication in 1942 a version for mixed choir version was published the following year. This is the version that we perform this evening, and while many movements have been reworked to make full use of the tenors and basses, some movements remain untouched, including the processional and recessional which are sung by the sopranos alone.
Following the processional, the first full choir piece is Wolcum Yole! This movement is an invitation to the celebration of the coming festival days: Yole (December 25th), Saint Stephen’s Day (December 26th), St. John’s Day (December 27th), Day of the Innocents (December 28), New Year (January 1), Twelfth Day (January 5), and Candlemas (February 2). This movement, as are many of the others, sets text in Middle English, so a modern translation has been included in your program book.
After the exuberant Wolcum Yole!, in There is no rose the harp sets up an ostinato in the bass of alternating between C and F while the sopranos and altos take the lead on a slowly diverging three part chordal texture. What starts off as a set of chords quite consonant and connected to the ostinato slowly journeys further and further away. However, the tenors and basses join after each verse on short Latin refrains on a unison C, connecting us back to the rocking accompaniment.
At this point in the program, we take our first diversion from the Britten and visit Latvia. The Chorale had the pleasure of touring in 2019 to Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, and so working on these three carols has been a special opportunity to revisit those fond memories. The singing tradition in the Baltics is quite old and solidly established, but these particular carols come from a tradition of Mummery that is an ancient custom originating from Pagan traditions. While Christianization began in the region in the 13th Century, many traditional celebrations, such as that of the summer solstice, continue to endure.
Mummers would go from house to house and be invited in to assure a fruitful harvest in the Spring. The group would expect to be received with various meats and traditional gifts such as hom-knit socks and mittens. Then, the mummers would sing and dance. Traditionally, the periods of mummery would be around St. Michael’s Day (September 29), the Autumn Festival, St. Martin’s Day (November 10), and Winterfest (December 24 - January 6).
Ziemassvētku Nakts, the first of the three carols, describes a beautifully serene scene at the darkening of the night, with particular focus on the fir tree forests. Elise Thomas adds further context:
“In Latvia the firtree forests are a dark blue from far away and the tops look like Gothic cathedral spires. Hence, ‘the firtree tower darkens blue.’ The light shadows of the trees sway – there is always a little breeze, at least.”
Meklētāja celš uses the imagery of the Christmas Rose blooming as a blossoming of hope in the birth of Christ. The piece begins in a low and dark hymn-like manner before filling with a buoyant joy in the second half as the piece turns to the beautiful light of childhood and the singing of the stars.
Finally, Ai, Nama Māmiņa is a song written in the dialect of Nica, a region in southwestern Latvia. Here the majority of the choir is taking on the role of a drum, accompanying the sopranos as they ask for gifts to be given to them. The refrain, kaladū, kaladū, translates as “alms” or “charity”.
Returning to the Britten, our Medieval English scholar collaborator, Bridget Whearty writes that That youngë child and Balulalow are:
- …basically late medieval ‘Away in a Manger’. Late medieval christianity in Western Europe was really interested in the humanity of Jesus, and so there are a lot of songs imagining him as a baby, and picturing what Mary might have sung to him. At the same time, there was a religious trend about imagining yourself in the stories of the bible, really being there and seeing and feeling what took place. So that’s why the singer is both watching Jesus as a baby, asking for Jesus’ intervention on their behalf, and singing him a lullaby.
Following this lullaby, there seems nothing more appropriate than joining together to sing Silent Night, the well-loved 1818 carol by Franz Gruber.
Our second diversion from the Britten comes in the form of four Spanish carols arranged by Oscar and Noé Sanchez. The first carol is a traditional Puerto Rican carol, Alegría, Alegría, Alegría, and describes the joyous time of being in Bethlehem the night of Jesus’ birth. In the first verse, the shepherds make their way to the city, in the second, the crowded and bustling city is described with no place for Mary to rest. Finally, in the third verses, birds from the forest come to sing for Mary and calm her fears.
El desembre congelat is a traditional Catalonian Carol that similarly to the Latvian carol, Meklētāja celš, begins by describing the Christmas rose. But in this carol, the rose is taken to its theological conclusion, becoming the Easter lily in the third verse. The final two carols are from Spain. First, Soy un pobre pastorcito is the story of a poor shepherd boy walking to Bethlehem to bring his gifts to the newborn Jesus. The chorus focuses on his journey, walking urgently because Mary and Joseph are waiting in the stable with their child. In response, we all go to Bethlehem in Vamos todos a Belén, following the star and singing for joy.
Again, Bridget Whearty writes:
- Dew in Aprille is all about Mary’s choice (king of all kings, for her son she chose) in agreeing to carry JEsus and therefore bring about human salvation. It’s connected to a traditional reading of Luke 1:26-38, with Mary saying ‘let it be with me according to your word.’ (Divine consent culture).
The dew in April imagery is there to help the reader understand how it’s possible that a virgin could conceive. The idea here is that just as the dew appears in the morning, so can the mystery of the virgin birth occur.
This Little Babe stands in stark contrast to the contemplative mystery of the previous movement and presents a war between baby Jesus and Satan. The tempo is quick, the choir entrances become increasingly overlapping, and the harmony is dark and foreboding.
From this imagery of war, we turn to the stark coldness of winter as best understood by Minesotan composer Abbie Betinis in her setting of In the Bleak Midwinter. The evocative harmonies of the harp part coupled with swirling undercurrents of “snow on snow” do a lot to highlight the bleakness of the winter. However, at the appearance of Jesus, there is a palpable thaw as the harmony turns to D major. The arrangement then transitions to an a cappella verse with two soloists over the top wondering what they can bring the newborn child. At the conclusion, the choir unites to bring their hearts.
Abbie Betinis’ connection to carols is deep and long in her family, as she is the great granddaughter of Bates Burt and grand-niece of Alfred Burt, a family famous for sending freshly composed carols as Christmas cards to their friends and family. Betinis has continued this tradition with freshness and craftsmanship for many years, premiering each new carol on Minnesota Public Radio each year and sending the carols out with card art designed by her mother. For Donald Patriquin, he describes the rich connection the Carol of the Field Mice also has with his family:
- For a period of about ten years, a delightful oasis in our existence as a young family, we lived in the country, well in the country, in a mid-nineteenth century house which I had begun to restore a few years before, and which, like most such homes, was in a state of permanent renovation. Heidi and I were fortunate in that our professions and other circumstances allowed us for a few years to bring up our three children in such an environment. Early in our years there we began to attend the ‘local’ United Church, better known as the Creek Church as a small river ran close by, and every Sunday for almost a decade we left our isolated farm-house and headed to ‘The Creek’ some eight miles away. As I had been at one time an organist, and Heidi played gamba, and daughters Karin and Lara played flute and violin respectively, we soon began to take part in the musical life of the church.
The season of Christmas was a particularly happy one as we were able to get a small choir together and perform quite an eclectic assemblage of music. It was at once enjoyable and challenging to create a special piece of music for the congregation and the accompanists, and the all-time favorite there was without doubt our setting of the Carol of the Field Mice from Kenneth Grahame’s Wind in the Willows. Heidi and I hit upon the idea one morning at breakfast, and together we composed the melody. I gave it a rudimentary harmony, and we all performed it on a very cold and gusty day shortly before Christmas. With a most enthusiastic group of carolers as you would find anywhere, clad in winter clothing – tuques, scarves, and mitts included – we sang heartily to a very receptive congregation.
Bill Webster, a kindly gentleman who had retired near ‘The Creek’ and who with his family was as kind and welcoming as one could possibly expect during our years there, read the Wind in the Willows account of the gathering of the mice in the forecourt prior to the singing of the carol. This was the beginning of a Christmas tradition that continued for the years we were there.
For many of us, part of our traditions around the holidays include decking our halls with a variety of decorations, whether those be wreaths, garlands, trees, lights, or inflatable reindeers. Therefore, we can celebrate our collective traditions by joining together to sing Deck the Hall.
The harp reminds us of the Hodie that welcomed us initially during the Interlude from the Ceremony of Carols, and then introduces us to Stephen Paulus’ Three Nativity Carols. These settings owe a lot to the Britten in their use of older carol texts and of course the harp, but Paulus adds on the Oboe as an additional color. The Holly and the Ivy is a lively rhythmic approach to this familiar text with a melody and harmony that is adjacent to the traditional carol but definitely new. Each verse ends with a different surprising chord before each chorus enters with increasing complexity. This Endris Night is the There is no rose equivalent for Paulus with a relatively static harp accompaniment, but wandering choral writing that ventures away from the tonal norms before finally settling back on a long sustained open fifth at the very end of the movement. Wonder Tidings is alight with energy, perhaps in anticipation of Britten’s Deo Gracias that will soon arrive.
The last set of the Britten to conclude our concert begins with one of the most adventurous settings in the Ceremony. The harp sets up a simple pattern that over the course of the movement becomes increasingly embellished while the choir sings in a canon that becomes increasingly urgent until the climax of the piece. The end of the movement features the original harp ostinato, transferred into the choir while a small group of sopranos sing a final version of the melody.
Sometimes sung as a duet, but here sung by the sopranos and altos, Spring Carol looks forward to the coming of Spring. Not just the season, but also the commitment of God to care for humanity and to provide for our sustenance. The harp accompaniment evokes chirping birds and leaping animals while the sopranos and altos sing a lilting and hope-filled melody.
Deo Gracias sets the Adam lay ibounden text and is one of my personal favorite theological jungle gyms to navigate. Whearty explains:
- Adam lay ibounden is looking back on the whole of Christian history from the perspective of Jesus’ birth. Adam is imprisoned (tied, bound) for 4000 winters because he took the fruit of knowledge of good and evil (which we know because learned people [clekes] tell us it is written that way). And this sin is terrible, but also wonderful – because if Adam hadn’t consented to sin (and therefore suffered death and imprisonment, and then made all subsequent humans have to die) then Mary would never had a chance to consent to salvation for all of humanity, by agreeing to be Jesus’ mother. So the song basically ends with saying ‘well, Adam made a terrible choice, so Mary could make a wonderful one.’ This Christmas-oriented rereading of the first chapters of Genesis is known as ‘the fortunate fall’.
And because of this remarkably bad, and yet incredibly good situation, we therefore sing Deo Gracias, thanks be to God.
