Time, Eternity, and Inspiration
Posted April 30, 2025
A Conversation with Artistic Director Tom Morgan and
Communications Coordinator Andrea Weidemann
Andrea: What was the impetus for choosing these pieces?
Tom: Since I learned it in the 1980s, I’ve wanted to perform Frank Martin’s extraordinary Mass for Double Choir. It is recognized in the choral world as one of the pinnacle a cappella achievements of the 20th century; certainly in almost any “top-10” list of major choral works in the last 125 years. It is quite a challenging piece to perform, requiring a choir to be confident in dividing into 8 voice parts and navigating a lot of challenging harmonies and transitions.
At the same time, the rewards are many, both for the singers and the listeners. The sound is lush and dramatic; the nuances of expression are very elegant and fulfilling. One has the sense of being in the presence of both a universal high art as well as being in an intimate, personal conversation.
Andrea: That’s interesting. A lot of the masterpieces of the choral world come from the sacred repertoire. But it sounds like your intention wasn’t so much to present a program of sacred music as to point at something more universal.
Tom: Yes! The personal nature of both Martin’s Mass and Herbert Howells’ Requiem was important to me in choosing to program them together. Both composers wrote these works initially purely for themselves, and they both withheld them from public view for decades. I find that aspect of these works really fascinating.
Frank Martin wrote: “This mass, composed in 1922 (except for the Agnus Dei, which dates from 1926), was a work of my own free will, without commission or remuneration. Indeed at that time, I knew of no choral conductor who could be interested in it. I never submitted it to the Society of Swiss Musicians for performance at one of their annual events. In fact, I had no desire to have it performed as I was afraid it would be judged on a purely aesthetic level. As far as I was concerned, it was a matter between God and me.”
Howell’s Requiem has a similar and even more poignant background. Howells composed it in about 1932, intending it for the choir of King’s College, Cambridge. For some reason, the music was never sent to King’s, and it remained unpublished and unperformed. In 1935, Howells’ son Michael died at the age of nine, a tragedy which cast a long shadow over the composer’s life and work. He reworked some of the music of the Requiem into his choral-orchestral work Hymnus Paradisi, composed between 1936 and 1938. But Howells had poured so much of his personal grief into the music that this piece was also withheld from public hearing until 1950. In 1980, the original version of the Requiem that we will perform on these concerts was first published, just three years before the composer’s death.
Andrea: What should people listen for in these concerts?
Tom: Listen for the tenderness; the personal, human connection. It’s not necessary to go into the specifics of the sacred words. Listen for the yearning human spirit in the music. There you will find a quiet sense that, regardless of religion or creed or any other dividing labels, we’re all in this together.
I’m reminded this week of one of my favorite quotes from the late Pope Francis: “Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude. It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility.”