Program Notes, text, and translations

Program Notes

Program Notes by Vaughn Roste

Originally a liturgical service, the Requiem was literally a Mass for the Dead, sung as a funeral service with the body of the deceased present. It was not until the 19th century when composers such as Berlioz, Brahms, and Verdi conceived of it for the concert hall. The text for “Introit” (literally, “entrance”), the first movement of the Requiem derives from IV Esdras 2:34-35, an apocryphal book, and “Kyrie” has been the first movement of the Mass since the fifth century. Similar to how an operatic overture might preview several themes that will later recur, Trotta’s opening movement introduces two essential themes that permeate the entire work. The first is a rising scalar theme, which is later presented in minor on “Te decet hymnus” (To you we sing hymns); the second is a dotted rhythm which ascends and then falls back immediately to the starting note – this theme is set repeatedly, to different texts, including “Rest eternal,” “Lord, have mercy,” and “Christ, have mercy.” Many composers, for example Mozart, write separate movements for these two texts, Introit and Kyrie, but here Trotta combines them in ABA form using those same two themes for both.

With its foreboding text threatening doom and judgment, the “Dies Irae” – also set memorably by Mozart and Verdi – was the latest addition to the Requiem Mass, not being officially included in the Requiem until the Council of Trent in 1570. Its text comes directly from Zephaniah 1:15-16. Given that this is an orchestral work, it comes as a bit of a shock to have the second movement sung a cappella – but notice the contrast here, as the Gregorian chant is lyrically sung over a driving staccato ostinato accompaniment.

The orchestra returns in the “Offertory/Hostias,” punctuating the text with its own interludes and allowing for a brief peak at the soprano soloist. It does not serve merely an accompanimental function here, but also presents the themes, and is used to transition from one section to the next. “Quam Olim Abrahae” (As Thou Once Promised Abraham), a text often set as fugue since Mozart, recurs here as well, in a nod to centuries of tradition – but it’s almost a surprise, as the movement cadences prior to that, feeling like it could end before it recapitulates this material.

The “Sanctus” is extracted almost word-for-word from Isaiah 6:3, while the “Benedictus” stems from Matthew 21:9, which describes Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem (apropos, given that the Holy City is mentioned in the first movement). The orchestra presents the theme before the angelic voices enter, yet this lilting introduction soon gives way to frenetic fugal entrances on the “Hosanna,” which are even supplied with a counter-theme when they return after “Benedictus” (Blessed is he who comes), leading quickly to a climactic conclusion.

“Pie Jesu,” is a text extrapolated from the Dies Irae movement above, and as such does not always appear as an independent movement. However, composers such as Fauré and Duruflé have set this precedent, as well as more recent settings by John Rutter, Karl Jenkins, and Kim André Arnesen. Nonetheless, it may be Andrew Lloyd WeCer’s setting which is most famous – it is certainly more frequently performed than the Requiem from which it is excerpted – and that is surely the version, with its two soprano singers, which most influenced Trotta’s setting here. After the orchestra plays the “requiem” theme, they then introduce the two soprano soloists, each of whom sings alone before joining together in a duet.

The “Agnus Dei” is John the Baptist’s exclamation in John 1:25-26, 29 – and while this text is typically found as the last movement in a Mass, this text is changed when sung as part of a Requiem: the final “dona eis requiem” (Grant them rest) becomes instead “Dona eis requiem sempiternam” (Grant them rest everlasting). An extended orchestra introduction gives way to choral entrances, sung low in the tessitura in unison. Here we have several themes presented simultaneously: the “requiem,” the “Dies Irae” chant, and a descending chromatic theme which eventually is stated in powerful octaves before fading away.

After a brief introduction, the choir – perhaps surprisingly – sings the “Lux Aeterna” a cappella, as they did in the second movement – yet the text of this antiphon relates more closely to the Introit, a situation which has suggested musical recapitulation to many composers. It also brings to mind the ancient custom of lighting candles during the Mass for the Dead, which were used not only to illuminate some of the early subterranean burial places, but as a symbolic prayer for salvation.

“Libera Me” is not technically a part of the liturgical Requiem Mass, but a responsory sung afterwards during the Burial Rite. Yet textually it is so connected, being extracted from two previous movements, that composers have long included it to provide structure and musically reprise the “Dies Irae.” Commencing with the soprano soloists, the choir enters forcefully, dispensing with its “day of judgment” text quickly before settling into the more lyrical “requiem” material with which we are already familiar. The movement concludes with an extended orchestral interlude in mixed meter.

It is in the next movement that Trotta makes his most significant departure from previous settings, for the text, “Et Mors Ultra Non Erit,”  is an interpolation not typically found in the Requiem Mass. Commencing with Revelation 21:4 and proceeding seamlessly into 1 Corinthians 15:55, this, the penultimate movement, is the first appearance of the baritone soloist in the only truly solo movement of the entire work.

Another movement not technically part of the Requiem Mass, “In paradisum” is sung while the coffin is being carried to the grave. The reference to Lazarus derives from Luke 16:19-31. An extended orchestral introduction reiterates many themes previously – the listener might even find themselves recalling words to these new melodies already. Only the upper voices sing the opening line as angels lead us into paradise. The music recapitulates some of the material from the opening, appropriately for how the text once again repeats how we enter the holy city of Jerusalem. Yet instead of the rousing conclusion that one might expect as Trotta adeptly simultaneously interweaves all of the musical themes of this work, the work ends on a quiet, peaceful note, reiterating and illustrating its title: “rest.” The final statement of the “Dies Irae” chant floats hauntingly in the background as we are musically assured of salvation.