Program Notes on Maurice Durufle's Requiem

Recently, I had the great privilege to perform Maurice Duruflé's Requiem, his opus 9. Its a brilliant work and the performance itself was brilliant. My fellow choir members and myself received great reviews. Another opportunity I had was to write program notes about the work. Due to the high attendance of the concert, not everyone went home with a program. Therefore, I have decided to post the notes here, along with the notes my classmate Sean Kelly also wrote concerning the Latin text of the Requiem mass. We hope that they enlighten and open your mind.

Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986) began his musical career in Louviers, France, where he was as a choirboy and assisted at the organ. He eventually studied with organists Charles Tournemire and Louis Vierne, who, in addition to their rigorous instruction in organ technique, gave him a deep appreciation for the liturgy and its reliance on Gregorian Chant. In 1929, Duruflé succeeded Louis Vierne as the head organist at St. Etienne-du-Mont. He remained at this position until injuries he and his wife sustained in a car crash in 1975 forced him to stop playing. He died 11 years later in 1986, having composed only a setting of the Lord's Prayer in the interim.

First published in 1947, Duruflé's Requiem combines ideas old and new. The use of ancient Gregorian chant as melody lines pervades each movement, and the corresponding liturgical chants for each movemet are presented at least once. As each movement progresses, the chant melody is then morphed in simple ways, such as transposition and augmentation, as well as more complexly. In the Kyrie for example, the chant is sung by the Basses and then answered by the Tenors in a fugal exposition. Later on, the organ augments the line as a cantus firmus under a new melody sung by the singers.

But while utilizing centuries-old melodies as building blocks, Duruflé was simultaneously concerned with a more modern interpretation of the requiem text and use. "This Mass," he writes, "is not an ethereal work which sings of detachment from earthly worries. It reflects...the agony of man faced with the mystery of his ultimate end." Like Fauré before him, Duruflé removed much of the Sequence, (otherwise known as the Dies Irae: “This day of wrath shall consume the world in ashes”), thus mitigating the atmosphere of fear and damnation which are so prevalent in the requiems of Mozart, Berlioz, and Verdi.

When listening to this requiem, I believe we are not necessarily given an answer to what lies beyond the world of the living. This requiem allows the listener focus on life rather than death, while receiving some comfort in the face of the unknown. In this writer's opinion, this beautiful work can be enjoyed by people of all religions and ideologies; it neither confirms nor disproves an afterlife, and allows the freedom to question what is ahead for us all.        -Andrew Weinstein, junior, music history major

The text of the Requiem Mass, written primarily in Latin, contains many grammatical and syntactical intricacies that most English translations fail to capture, two of which I will address here.

The first line of the text reads, "Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis," and is typically translated "Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them." This translation, however, fails to capture a literary device in Latin called polyptoton, in which two words derived from the same root are used in close proximity. In this line, the internal accusative object of luceat is lux, and the relationship between the two is obvious. A better translation is perhaps "may light perpetual light them," but more important than the translation is the meaning inherent in the text. This light is of utmost importance and must do nothing more than exist for these souls to be appeased. Light plays an essential role in the dramatic backdrop of the text, in stark contrast to the obscurum, or "darkness," in the "Domine Jesu Christe."

A second point worthy of attention is the role of direction in the text, and specifically traveling downward. One meaning is rather apparent: death and Hell traditionally lie below the mortal world. Similarly, the dead in the "Domine Jesu Christe" are the defuncti, or "those having been released downwards," and "tartarus" is literally an under-world. Of note, however, are two instances where movement downward is positive. Also in the "Domine Jesu Christe," a prayer beseeches God to allow the dead "de morte transire as vitam," or "to go down from death to life." Similarly, in the final movement, the "in paradisum," the chorus of angels leads the dead "into Paradise" by "leading [them] down" (deducant). These instances seem to indicate that movement downward is not reserved for punishment and arrival at Hell, but also utilized for those being saved. This hope for downward motion as salvation mirrors the practice of burying the dead below the ground; thus the hope is that therefore we, too, "lead them down into Paradise."
- Sean Kelly, senior, vocal performance and classics major 


These notes were previously published in the program for the November 15, 2013 performance of the Hofstra University Chorale and Chamber Choir at the Cathedral of the Incarnation in Garden City, NY.