Charpentier, Vindicated

He’s a guy who, if you know him at all, you know him for one work: his Messe de Minuit pour Noel, or his Mass for Christmas Eve.

Composer—Marc-Antoine Charpentier, and the work, based on French Christmas carols, gets trotted out regularly. It’s charming, tuneful, easy to hear and to sing. But as is so often the case, there’s much, much more to hear from this composer who published just one work in his lifetime, and was overshadowed for three centuries by a more illustrious contemporary.

Charpentier, 1634-1704, is a transitional composer—straddling the Renaissance and the Baroque Era. He studied for three years in Italy, and then returned to Paris, where he was given an apartment by the Duchess of Guise, for whom he worked for the next seventeen years. In 1689, he was appointed the maître de musique for Sainte-Chapelle, a royal position. During this time, he wrote, as you can imagine, a lot of sacred music.

If you listen to a lot of sacred music, you quickly realize—virtually every composer will have a Magnificat, a Te Deum, a Salve Regina, Requiems, and, of course, the Masses. And Charpentier is no exception.

So let’s start with the Magnificat, one of the eight oldest hymns in Christendom and, according to Wikipedia, perhaps the first Marian hymn. Here are the lyrics in Latin:

Magnificat anima mea Dominum,

et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salvatore meo,

quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae.

Ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes,

quia fecit mihi magna,

qui potens est,

et sanctum nomen eius,

et misericordia eius in progenies et progenies

timentibus eum.

Fecit potentiam in brachio suo,

dispersit superbos mente cordis sui;

deposuit potentes de sede

et exaltavit humiles;

esurientes implevit bonis

et divites dimisit inanes.

Suscepit Israel puerum suum,

recordatus misericordiae,

sicut locutus est ad patres nostros,

Abraham et semini eius in saecula    

And here they are in English, from the Book of Common Prayer:

My soul doth magnify the Lord : and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded : the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold, from henceforth : all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath magnified me : and holy is his Name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him : throughout all generations.

He hath shewed strength with his arm : he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat : and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things : and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel : as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

(optional ending commonly used in Anglican service:

Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.)

And here is Charpentier’s setting of the Magnificat:

That’s a strong contender. Now then, what’s the deal with the Salve Regina?

Well, it’s also a Marian hymn, but of more recent origin—the eleventh century, and the author is usually attributed to Hermann of Reichenau. Alternatively, it could have been written by Adhemar, the Bishop of Podium, who was setting out on one of the Crusades. So he wrote the Salve Regina as a sort of war song / petition for divine intervention.

Here’s the Latin text:

Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiæ,

vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.

ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevæ,

ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes

in hac lacrimarum valle.

Eia, ergo, advocata nostra, illos tuos

misericordes oculos ad nos converte;

et Iesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui,

nobis post hoc exsilium ostende.

O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Virgo Maria.

℣ Regina coeli, laetare, Alleluia

℟ Quia quem meruisti portare Alleluia

℣ Resurrexit, sicut dixit Alleluia.

℟ Ora pro nobis, Deo Alleluia

℣ Gaude et Laetare, Virgo Maria, Alleluia

℟ Quia surrexit Dominus vere Alleluia

And here’s the English:

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve;
to thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.

Turn then, most gracious advocate,
thine eyes of mercy toward us;
and after this our exile,
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

℣ Pray for us O holy Mother of God,
℟ that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

And here's Charpentier's setting:

Lastly, there’s Charpentier’s terrific Te Deum, a hymn of praise that was written, according to legend, variously by St. Ambrose, St. Hilary, or Augustine. It’s in regular use in the Catholic liturgy, and the prelude of Charpentier’s setting of the Te Deum is used as a theme song for European Union Television.

Tremendous piece, hunh? Lastly, here’s what one writer, Katya Gifford, commented:

For nearly three centuries, Marc-Antoine Charpentier was all but forgotten in favour of his contemporary, Jean-Baptiste Lully. But many believe Charpentier to be the greater of the two, displaying in his work impressive breadth of range - from the pomp of the court and the flamboyance of the theatre to the intimacy of the private chapel. His music captures the essence of the French nobility in its prime, before the French Revolution swept it away.

Another commentator put it more bluntly—Lully, he charges, “unscrupulously” did everything he could to be on top of the musical heap, and if that meant a stab in the back or two, hey—no problem. But it’s nice to think that Charpentier’s music, at last, is being heard.