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Maurice Duruflé (1902–1986) Requiem, opus 9 The text of the Requiem Mass has inspired composers since the High Renaissance. Polyphonic settings of the "Mass for the Dead" became a normal part of many respectable composers' oeuvres from the days of Ockeghem. This tradition continued for centuries, including the well-known settings by Mozart and Berlioz. Berlioz first made the Requiem a work of truly monstrous proportions, a tradition followed by Verdi, Dvorák, and many lesser-known composers like Charles Villiers Stanford. These compositions accentuate the darker, infernal side of death, as often illustrated by the intense drama of the "Dies irae" section, boldly proclaiming the approach of a horrid judgment day. At the height of the Requiem's compositional popularity, Gabriel Fauré defied this tradition by emphasizing a tender, even comforting aspect of death, interpreting it as a departure from this troubled world and a hopeful arrival in a place of peace and eternal rest. He went so far as to eliminate the "Dies irae" text from his musical setting, and indeed one might say that this is the first Requiem which truly lives up to its literal title. Thus Fauré single-handedly established a new and uniquely French method to view this historically dreary tradition. In this environment, the French publishing company Durand in 1947 commissioned Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986), a respected composer and virtuoso organist, to compose a choral-orchestral Requiem Mass. As he had already begun to write an organ suite based on Gregorian chant themes, Duruflé incorporated this work into the commission. The result was the composer's first choral work: a Requiem completely unique in its application of medieval melody, modern orchestration, and comforting treatment of the subject matter. Duruflé changed the instrumentation for three arrangements of the work. Each of these versions includes a mixed choir, and the composer often said that he preferred the baritone and mezzo-soprano solos to be sung by the entire choral section. The largest version, that for full orchestra and organ, was the composer's preferred arrangement, and therefore will be discussed here. What makes this piece so fascinating is its application and incorporation of Gregorian chant melodies into the whole compositional framework. Duruflé wrote very few tunes for this piece, but rather applied Gregorian chant in a typically twentieth-century harmonic and orchestral milieu. In the composer's own words, "At times the text is paramount, and therefore the orchestra intervenes only to sustain or comment. At other times an original musical fabric inspired by the text takes over completely…. In general, I have attempted to penetrate to the essence of Gregorian style and have tried to reconcile, as far as possible, the very flexible Gregorian rhythms as established by the Benedictines of Solesmes with the exigencies of modern notation." The result is a powerful addition to the Requiem tradition that remains the greatest and most performed work of this important French composer. It is organized in nine movements, each one with a tripartite structure. In order to fully comprehend the manner in which Duruflé incorporated Gregorian themes into his composition, a movement-by-movement analysis is therefore in order. The first movement is based on the Introit text, and is an appropriately calm setting thereof. Duruflé informs us immediately that this work is based on Gregorian themes, as the very second measure sees the entrance of the men's choir, proclaiming note for note the traditional, medieval chant of "Requiem aeternam". After each phrase of the text, the women interject with a brief, wordless line which echoes and outlines the chant just heard. Not only does the chant itself therefore unify this section, with its modified echo technique, but the strings have a repeated, brook-like figure throughout, which does not end until the woodwinds introduce the second section with a figuration not unlike that of the strings. The sopranos, followed by the altos, sing the Gregorian chant traditionally associated with the text, "Te decet hymnus in Sion". Duruflé again employs his earlier echo technique, as the cellos take up the last four notes of the sung line. The violins then take over the chant of the first section, while the choir invokes a chordal treatment of the harmonies implied by the medieval line. Thus, this movement is in a traditional ABA' format, unified by the modified echo treatment, but differentiated by text, voicing, and instrumentation. The "Kyrie" follows the first movement without interruption, as the bass choir begins with the chant melody. The tenors pick up a countermelody, which almost implies a fugal application of the traditional line. The ladies repeat this same figuration. The countermelody is, however, not very different than the principal melody itself; it is more a dominant modulation of the theme with some minor rhythmic changes. The second section, "Christe eleison", utilizes a similar technique. The theme is pronounced by the altos first, then the sopranos, modulated up a minor third. This duet continues until the men's choir returns with a variant of the "Kyrie" melody, which begins the third section. This section of the text is traditionally set in three logical sections, as delineated by the text: "Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison." Duruflé here employs this traditional sectionalization. The third movement begins ominously, and proceeds to a Gregorian tune in the cellos, which is then repeated by the horns. The altos then inform us that this tune is indeed the chant for the section, "Domine Jesu Christe". Then follows the second section of this movement, by far the most dramatic moment thus far. The trumpets invoke a tune which the chorus take up one measure later, reminiscent of the echo technique applied in the first movement. This achieves a marvelous climax, then calms to allow the horns and cellos to take up the first theme of the movement, invoking a loose and solely instrumental recollection of the beginning. The third section is also a small ABA' itself, as the women take the next melody and text, followed by the men. The women then continue with a recollection of the melody they had earlier in that section. The horns subtly invoke the men's line in a masterful conclusion that rounds out not just this section but the entire movement. The "Sanctus" begins with a brook-like figure that recalls the first movement. The women invoke the Gregorian chant. With the text, "Hosanna in excelsis", a pizzicato phrase in the low strings builds tension, and by the time the tenors enter with that declamation, we know that another large climax is underway. The shouts of "Hosanna" build dramatically and then subside. The strings return with the same brook-like figure of the beginning, the women recall the "Sanctus" chant, and gradually the strings slow to a calm resolution of this rather joyous movement. The fifth movement, initially scored for mezzo-soprano solo, is a sublime and beautifully romantic setting of the "Pie Jesu". As noted above, Duruflé preferred that the contralto chorus sing the line in unison. Most beautiful in this movement is how the cellos take up the last few notes of each sung phrase, in a similar manner to the second movement. The middle section of the "Pie Jesu" is a yearning, emotionally driving cry. The third section is only subtly implied; as the contraltos calmly plead for "requiem sempiternam", the cello section enters with the Gregorian theme that began the movement, in one of the most tender moments of the entire composition. One should remember that Duruflé did not include the entire Requiem text, and thus this is also masterful in its placement as centerpiece of the composition. The "Agnus Dei" begins with a Gregorian theme in the clarinet, followed by the contraltos' invocation of the text. The bassoons repeat the last few alto notes, recalling that near-echo technique employed many times before. The clarinet and alto roles are then transferred to the violins and tenors respectively, but this time the bassoons join the tenors for the last few notes. The theme gradually rises in pitch, harmony, and intensity, and when the matter calms it is only superficially. Not until the cellos take over the theme and a secondary, smaller climax occurs, do we realize that matters are calming authentically. Interestingly, the "Agnus Dei" traditionally has three parts, but in this case Duruflé chooses to contradict history by creating one coherent texture from the growth and subsequent decline of one musical phrase. The seventh movement, "Lux aeterna", begins with the Gregorian theme in the bassoon, while the woodwinds add mild harmonic support. The strings then take over the winds' role, but only briefly. The sopranos then sing the same chant, with the rest of the chorus acting harmonically supportive, a cappella. Then follows a near repetition, the only difference lying in the clarinet's beginning and the flute's accompanying echo of the soprano line. The second section is brief, but poignant in its differences. The high strings are constant and sustained on one note, while a Gregorian theme occupies the cellos. Meanwhile, the choir takes part by monophonically invoking the text of the first section, the only link between the two parts. The third section of this seventh movement is a more brief version of the first two. The text has changed and the oboes begin, but the musical material is essentially the same. Now comes perhaps the darkest moment of the entire work. As mentioned above, Duruflé followed Fauré's example by setting only certain parts of the text of the Requiem Mass. While this movement does not accentuate the differences in text, Duruflé does delve into the darker, more foreboding aspect of death. Even the initial brass invocation hints that there is more to this movement than one would expect from its predecessor. While the men's choir begins the text of "Libera me", the brass solos have motives of just a few notes that accentuate and build an inner tension. When this arrives at a climax, the strings do not subside but continue their fast-paced chattering. The men (the baritone solo in the original version) do not alleviate the situation with their quick declamation of the chant, "Tremens factus sum ego", with some rhythmic singularities. The choir evokes an ethereal, mysterious moment ("Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra", which is not included in the Fauré Requiem) that only heightens the tension. The strings prepare the climactic "Dies irae" section with a tremolando phrase, and the brass enthusiastically invoke the motives of the movement's beginning. This section is unique in that Duruflé does not quote Gregorian chant, but rather creates a melody that recalls a Gregorian feel in a very twentieth-century treatment of conflict, tension, and climax. This remarkably dramatic moment requires minutes to truly calm in the listener's ear, and the choir makes brief reference to the Judgment once again. At this time, Duruflé employs a previously instrumental technique to the chorus. The basses are here exactly one measure behind the rest of the singers, which adds further to the inner tension by the double declamation of the conclusive text, "per ignem", which is subtly further emphasized when the trumpets repeat the three notes previously employed by that text. The sopranos and organ attempt to reconcile the previous climax with a very Gregorian section, but all is not calm as yet. The strings and flute follow that example, but it takes the whole choir to truly face the situation with a unison phrase that still grows in tension, while trying to reconcile the previous climax. The tenors remind everyone of the darker side with a repetition of the text "per ignem", recalling the basses' echo moments before. The concluding eleven measures reveal not a reconciliation, but rather an acceptance of the inevitability of the Judgment Day, as referred to in the text. This seventh movement exemplifies Duruflé's reference to moments when "an original musical fabric inspired by the text takes over completely." Here, Duruflé gives precedence to his own original musical ideas, while not forgetting that Gregorian chant is still the basis of all. He reminds us of this fact with very occasional, indeed minor, references that only serve to accentuate the difference. Duruflé knew not only when and how to employ Gregorian melody, but also when not to do so. Duruflé follows this barren acceptance of Judgment with a reminder that all is not lost. Similarly, he follows the highly original eighth movement with one which is based entirely on Gregorian melody. The strings and harp create a cloud-like, mysterious setting, but soon we know that this is not a dangerous mystery. The violins rise out of this paradisiacal mélange to remind us that "In Paradisum deducant Angeli". The choir follows, virtually identifying themselves as the "chorus angelorum" assigned to transfigure the listener to celestial bliss. Throughout all of this, the violins have continued their gradually rising figure. The organ recalls the Gregorian feel in the background, as the singers continue in their angelic vein despite occasional dissonances. These dissonances only serve to heighten the sensation of rest. However, just as the choir has achieved harmonic calm, the strings' rising continues to elevate a moderate tension which is finally released in the very last chord, marked with a fermata to be held "très long". As a professor of music theory, no
doubt Duruflé was very familiar with the Requiems which preceded his. He saw a
kindred spirit in that of Fauré, but did more than simply copy his
predecessor's style and format. The Requiem has been often set to music since
the High Renaissance, but Duruflé was the first to incorporate the Gregorian
chants, traditionally associated with the religious ceremonies of the Mass for
the Dead, into the core of the entire composition's musical framework. He also
employed other devices to unify the work as a whole, including a near-echo
technique that is initially rather subtle, but in the eighth movement takes on
new meaning as a praying reminder of salvation "per ignem".
Furthermore, each movement is unified in and of itself by a traditional and
expertly employed three-part structure. Those movements which do not recall this
tradition use other means to be unified, such as the gradual tension and release
of the "Agnus Dei" and the rising string line of the final movement.
But underlying all of these technical motives is a dedication to the Gregorian
chant that first followed these texts. Gregorian melody remains paramount
throughout, giving the entire composition a harmonic, melodic, and rhythmic
direction. While the polyphonic Requiem tradition may have begun with Ockeghem,
it was Duruflé who made up for the previous centuries of relative neglect, by
incorporating Gregorian melody into the heart of his own Requiem Mass.
TEXT
Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine,
Kyrie eleison.
Domine Jesu Christe, Rex gloriae,
Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth.
Pie Jesu Domine,
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,
Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna,
In Paradisum deducant Angeli,
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