Vor deinen Thron

Pan b’wy’n myned try’r Iorddonen,
Angeu creulon yn ei rym,
Ti est trywddi gynt dy Hunan,
Pam yr ofnaf bellach ddim?
Buddugoliaeth,
Buddugoliaeth,
Buddugoliaeth,
Gwna I mi waeddi yn y llif.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside.
Death of death, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side.
Songs of praises,
Songs of praises,
I will ever give to thee.
[William Williams (1717-91)]

Mary is part of this journey as well:

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei:
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus,
nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

This day, the Feast of St. Thomas, was a memorial service for Jix L., a Son of Wales, retired professor of English, long-time parishioner, and the finest lector I have encountered. And now he is gone.

Having rehearsed the choir, I went to the organ bench for what I had planned as a five minute prelude, the amount of time I usually have on a Sunday morning when there is a choir. The church was comfortably filled, and I had a few minutes extra, so I prefaced the piece that I had prepared with two of the Brahms chorales. One of them I had played at the recent Lessons and Carols, so it was fresh, and I made it through the other well enough. That brought me to five minutes before the appointed service time, so I played the “Vor deinen Thron tret' ich” of Bach, the chorale that he revised on the final day of his life. I often play this for funerals; there is nothing more suitable.

Before Thy throne, my God, I stand,
Myself, my all, are in Thy hand.
O show me Thine approving face,
Nor from Thy son withhold Thy grace.

During the playing, one of the altos came up and whispered “Keep playing; it is going to be another five or ten minutes. A lot of people still need to be seated.” I played some more of my funeral repertoire, some of which had not been practiced for a long time. It went better than it had any right to do: Thanks be to God.

Lesson 1: Always have more music at hand for weddings and funerals. You might need it.

After the liturgy, I spoke briefly with my organist friend Jean. I told her that my communion improvisation was pretty bad. That was an understatement, in terms of how it felt at the time; it felt like the worst playing I had perpetrated in years.

The choir had sung the Communion from the Victoria Requiem, and it was clear that a lot more music was needed to cover the liturgical action. I had not prepared to improvise, not having expected such a large congregation, and I had already played my back-up music before the service. So, on the fly, I decided to continue in the style of the Victoria: high Renaissance counterpoint. For a beginning, I revisited what we had just sung, playing it through again with ornamentation. That was not too bad, and thoroughly legitimate. From there, it went down hill quickly: parallel fifths, octaves, non-stylistic chord progressions, lack of contrapuntal activity, poor voice leading. As a written exercise in counterpoint, it would have been an “F,” with red ink all over the page.

Lesson 2: Don't try to do something you can't. Especially without practice.

But there is more:

Lesson 3: It probably is not as bad as you think.

Upon listening to the recording, it was acceptable, as Jean had told me. Not great, not by any means; it remained characterless and the voice leading could have been a lot better. I was unable to maintain the Renaissance style, but the effect was as if I had intended to transition to a different style, not the reality that I was failing miserably at my intent. For its purpose, it was sufficient. Thanks be to God.

Here is the “Vor deinen Thron” from today's service. For this Welshman, we finished the service with the hymn quoted at the top, and the St. Anne Fugue as a postlude; I will try and post it tomorrow.