Homage to Bach

Prelude: Fugue in E minor by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)  This week’s service is bookended by works Mendelssohn, whom I might call “my soul brother by another mother,” to borrow a line from a recent Herman Cain speech.  I resonate to Mendelssohn’s total craftsmanship and reverence for Bach, as well as his romantic passion and dramatic intensity.  For me he’s just the right combination of head and heart, convention and intuition.

Until Mendelssohn came along the organ had largely been neglected by composers of international stature following the death of Bach in 1750.  When Mendelssohn was a boy he studied organ in Berlin with August Wilhelm Bach, who claimed no relation to the Master.  Some of Mendelssohn’s earliest works of juvenilia were for the organ, obvious and somewhat naïve attempts to imitate Johann Sebastian.  However, Bach’s music was still languishing in obscurity when, at age twenty, Mendelssohn mounted a production of the St. Matthew Passion at the Berlin Singakademie.  This would be its first performance outside Leipzig in over seventy-five years.  That same year (1829) Mendelssohn made the first of nine trips to England, and his acclaim as an organist spread quickly through numerous recitals and regular improvisations during Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Cathedral, London.

In mid-July of 1839 while in Frankfurt Mendelssohn composed three Fugues within five days, of which the Fugue in E minor is one.  [LISTEN]  He composed no preludes for them, and it is unclear if Mendelssohn ever even intended them to be published.  In fact, two of the fugues never appeared in publication until a century after his death.  The subject of the Fugue in E minor is a study in half-steps, and it makes for some exciting chromaticism as well as some tricky footwork for the organist.  Listen for two important rests within the subject which also provide drama and rhythmic intensity.  Great composers know how to employ silence as well as sound.  This piece is seldom performed, and yet it is one of my favorites for its relentless drive and excitement.

Postlude: Prelude in C Minor, opus 37, by Felix Mendelssohn  [LISTEN]  This looks like one of those humorous church bulletin typos, playing a ‘prelude’ for the postlude!  But it is no mistake.  By the time Mendelssohn turned twenty-five he had already composed his first piano concerto and four symphonies, but it was not until the ripe old age of twenty-eight that he published his first composition for the organ, Three Preludes and Fugues, opus 37.  They were written for Thomas Attwood, organist of St. Paul’s, London, and they represent an homage to the musical legacy of Bach, but with the dramatic impetus and harmonic language that places them firmly in the Romantic era.  The strong octave leap heard in the soprano voice in the opening measure serves as striking motif that is heard repeatedly throughout the Prelude.  A toccata-like eighth-note figuration supplies a feeling of perpetual motion and restless energy.

Gratitude in Song

Hymn: For the Beauty of the Earth (Dix)  This beautiful hymn is often associated with the season of Thanksgiving owing to its recounting of many things for which we can be grateful, from the wonders of nature’s beauty to the blessings of family and loving relationships.  “Lord of all to Thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.”  [LISTEN]  Folliot Sandford Pierpoint (1835-1917) published For the Beauty of the Earth in 1864 as a Eucharistic hymn, but it was also included under a group of hymns with the heading, ‘The sacrifice of praise.’  An original stanza, omitted in most hymnals, speaks directly to its intended use during Communion:

For the virgins’ robes of snow,
For thy maiden mother mild,
For thyself, with hearts aglow,
Jesu, Victim undefiled,
Offer we at thine own shrine
Thyself, sweet Sacrament Divine.

Pierpoint was an English writer and teacher. When he was twenty-nine he wrote this, his most famous hymn, while visiting Bath, England.  He revered the breathtaking beauty of his native English countryside, with the Avon River off in the distance.  The overflowing of his emotions gave rise to this poem of gratitude.  May our singing also be inspired by profound gratitude as we enter into worship on Sunday; let us sing not just with our voices but with our whole being.  By the way, the tune, Dix, is so named because it is associated with William Chatterton Dix, the author of As with Gladness Men of Old, an Epiphany hymn that shares the same tune.

Finding the Holy in the City

Anthem: Living in a Holy City by Stephen Hatfield  Every now and then I’ll purchase a piece of choral music for the Marble library not knowing exactly when the occasion will present itself for us to sing it.  This is one of those pieces that has been lying in wait for about five years until the right moment came along.  When I saw Rev. Shari Brink’s sermon title, “So Much More Than a City,” I knew the moment had finally arrived for this spirited anthem!  Its composer, Stephen Hatfield, has dedicated himself to exploring multiculturalism and musical folklore, and he has employed various styles of world music in many of his compositions, including this one. 

Living in a Holy City begins in unison with an adaptation of a South African folksong that speaks to solidarity and a longing for a true and lasting home.  [LISTEN]  At two points in the work, the steady pulse gives way to an Alleluia section in 3/4 time, with thematic material based on an old hymn tune (Diadem) that is associated with All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name. As the piece builds, Hatfield creates a contrapuntal rhythmic texture of overlapping ostinatos, infusing the music with joy and movement.

I’ve been thinking about this text this week as I maneuver through city subways and sidewalks.  I have been trying to follow Sr. Carol’s suggestion in her recent blog about praying for people on the subway, but usually I am too appalled at the discourteous and insensitive behavior I witness to feel much like praying.  Poor subway etiquette is something that causes me an unhealthy level of consternation.  By the time I arrive at my destination I’m hard-pressed to think of New York as a ‘holy city’.  And yet I’m also aware that “God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved.” (Psalm 46:5)  And I believe that where God is, is holy.  Perhaps I would do well to pray the words of our middle hymn this week, Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life, penned by Frank Mason North.  The also bring to mind the crucial ministry of Marble in the city, positioned as we are for so many who find themselves at the intersection of despair and hope:

O Master, from the mountain-side,
Make haste to heal these hearts of pain;
Among these restless throngs abide,
O tread the city’s streets again.

Hymn: You Are Salt for the Earth, O People by Marty Haugen  [LISTEN]  We conclude our worship this week by singing this great call to action.  On Sunday we will hear about Nehemiah taking on the task of rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem.  Likewise, we as individuals and as a church are called to employ our unique God-given gifts to make a real difference in our city and in our world.  This 1986 hymn of Marty Haugen is based on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, specifically Matthew 5:13-15.  He reminds us of our call to be “salt for the earth” sharing the “flavor of life” in the City of God, to be a “light on a hill,” and to become “seeds of mercy and seeds of justice.”  As we proclaim this refrain with full hearts and voices may we be inspired by God’s call to build such a holy city, right here within our own.
 
Bring forth the reign of mercy,
Bring forth the reign of peace,
Bring forth the reign of justice,
Bring forth the City of God!