In writing my own Christmas music, I haven't really thought much about analyzing other works to get a feel for it. I already know what Christmas "feels" like, and that is all I need to know. Below I have listed all the Christmas music I have completed, along with a brief story of how each piece came about.
O Magnum Mysterium (1991)
Before I completed this unusual piece, I had already discarded three earlier settings of the text (see Scapped Ideas). The first two were four-part a capella choral settings, while the third was a project for my composition class that was never completed. This fourth version was very different from the previous three. I used a three-part contrapuntal texture in the key of A-minor. The music is completely "white", with no accidentals, and the original manuscript had no barlines. The feeling I was trying to convey was that of three independent lines of Gregorian chant running parallel to each other.
Galilaean Lullabye (1992)
In mid-1992 I was considering a setting of Tantum Ergo, and came up with this melody:
I instantly liked the idea, however, it didn't seem right for this stodgy old Latin text. It sounded more like a lullabye. It was at this point that I knew the melody had to be a Christmas piece. I wrote the melody down, along with a few lyrics, but then set it aside to finish later.
Not long after this, I was reading Alice Miller's book, Thou Shalt Not Be Aware. The book dealt with child abuse and its effect on the lives of certain historical individuals. One of Miller's favorite devices was to explore the childhoods of such people as Franz Kafka and Adolph Hitler and demonstrate how their early experiences shaped their adult perceptions and decisions. While reading this book, I came upon a passage where Miller explored the childhood of Jesus, arguing that, just as Hitler owed his undying hatred and bloodlust to the abuse he suffered as a child, so did Jesus owe his open-mindedness and compassion to the love and nurturing he received from Mary and Joseph. This concept would be difficult for most Christians to swallow. After all, the general agreement in the Church was that Jesus was perfect in every way from the moment of His birth, and it seems almost blasphemous to suggest that He could have turned out differently, had He been given different parents. Indeed, the passage initiated a great crisis in faith for me, one that took many weeks to work through. In time, I came to accept the idea that Jesus came to earth as a man, and, like any other man, he was prone to the pitfalls of humanity. Among these pitfalls is the danger that a child, deprived of a nurturing environment, will "forget" who he is; i.e., his "authentic self" will never come into bloom. My belief is that God would not allow this to happen to Jesus, and therefore provided Him with two very extraordinary parents to guide Him into adulthood.
Having come through this crisis of faith, I returned to work on the Christmas piece with a passion. I decided that the lullabye would be sung not only by Mary, but by the often-overlooked Joseph as well. This man's role in the upbringing of Jesus has been underplayed for centuries, but it occurred to me that he could not possibly have been the "behind-the-scenes" nonentity he is usually portrayed as being. I remembered hearing once that, before the Industrial Revolution, boys bonded with their fathers as they learned the family trade, a crucial process that is now mostly extinct. As my text came into shape, I incorporated this idea into the lullabye:
Jesus, lying in the manger, Think not on the spite of Man. Rest in comfort, peace, and joy, Worry not, my little child Sleep, my little child of God, Think not on the waiting world. They can wait a moment longer, We'll be here until that day arrives. Jeshua, take our love and devotion, Magnify it, share it with all the world. As we have sworn to God we will serve you, Until the day that we must set you free. I will stay here by your side Hold you up until you stand on your own. As we shape the wood together, You will shape the world when you are alone. Jeshua, take our love and devotion Magnify it, share it with all the world. As we have sworn to God we will love you, Far beyond the day that we must set you free. One day you will leave our home, Even to that day you'll be our joy. You, the seed that God has planted For the moment are our little boy.
This text was intended to strip away the standard "Nativity hype" of singing angels and adoring shepherds, and get down to what was really important: The love of Mary and Joseph for their child. Two elements were taken from Miller's book; first, the idea that Jesus' parents would "serve" Him (quite contrary to the prevailing attitudes of ancient times, when the child was considered the property of the parents), and second, the idea of Jesus as a child of God. Miller had said in her book: "What a wonderful world it would be if we all treated our children like they were children of God (which, after all, we could all do)."
In naming the piece, I thought of the book "Two from Gallilee", and decided to name the piece "Gallilaean Lullabye". When I showed the initial sketches to Paula White, choir director at St. Matthews Episcopal church, it marked the first time someone wanted to perform some of my music based on a few measures of sketches. "Finish it," she said. "We'll do it this Christmas." And they did.
The Nativity (1993)
Click here to get the full scoop on The Nativity.
Drei Weinachtslieder (1993)
Click here to get the full scoop on Drei Weinachtslieder.
Dost Thou in a Manger Lie (1997)
This piece, as well as the one following, were two of many that resulted from a composition exercise I frequently engage in-- I take a hymnal, open it to a random page, and write an anthem to whatever hymn text I come up with. This one was a challenge because of the unusual length of the verses, which required me to spin a fairly long melody to accomodate it.
From Heaven Above to Earth I Come (1997)
In 1996 I began to experiment with different rhythms, mixing compound and simple meters at random. This results in a lot of 5/8, 7/8, and 5/4 times, mixed in with more standard 2/4 and 4/4 measures. Actually, this technique was not influenced by 20th century thought so much as by the early Lutheran hymns. These hymns, originally devoid of bar lines, freely mixed different rhythms before they were "straightened out" by later, more austere arrangers. "From Heaven Above to Earth I Come" is a setting of a text by, appropriately enough, Martin Luther.
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