Three Great Mysteries

It was the day after the Boston Marathon ended with such a bang, and I had spent much of the previous day watching repetitively the clips: the first explosion, which jolted a 78-year runner to the ground; the second explosion, occurring just ten seconds later; the shaken voice of the guy filming the carnage, only able to gasp, “oh my God,” eight or ten times over.

Well, it occurred to me, such a fascination was doing neither me nor my stomach any good. If I’m truly that obsessed, shouldn’t I hop on a plane for Boston and go empty bedpans? At least that would be helpful.

Well, I slept fitfully, woke up, and then turned to Morten Lauridsen, a professor of composition at the University of Southern California, who has become the most performed American choral composer of the 20^th Century.

There are those who sniff at him: “it’s all very pretty, but it doesn’t go anywhere,” a friend once said. Another critic wrote that Lauridsen seems to have some very good moves, but not many—his music can sound repetitive after a while.

And the composer himself admits—he wants his music to be accessible, both appealing to the average guy as well as possible—vocally—for the average chorus. By design, by conscious decision, there’s nothing highbrow here.

He’s been described by one man, the musicologist and conductor Nick Strimple as "the only American composer in history who can be called a mystic, (whose) probing, serene work contains an elusive and indefinable ingredient which leaves the impression that all the questions have been answered ...”

And he’s been extraordinarily fortunate to have his work recorded with great performers, and absolutely ravishing sound. Which was a large part of what attracted me, that dozen years ago when I first hear “O Magnum Mysterium,” arguably his most famous work. It was old music reworked—but the suspensions, the counterpoint were medieval. Every composer, seemingly, has a  “Magnum;” how would it stack up against Palestrina?

But first, here’s the text, in Latin:

O magnum mysterium,

et admirabile sacramentum,

ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,

jacentem in praesepio!

Beata Virgo, cujus viscera

meruerunt portare

Dominum Christum.

Alleluia.

And in English:

O great mystery,

and wonderful sacrament,

that animals should see the new-born Lord,

lying in a manger!

Blessed is the Virgin whose womb

was worthy to bear

Christ the Lord.

Alleluia!

Well, I’ve never found it so amazing that animals should see the new-born Lord, I think it more amazing that we got to see him, but what do I know? Not much, except that when I first heard Lauridsen’s O Magnum Mysterium, I was with one of the finest musicians I have known. A fine singer, a talented composer, and ardent listener.

We were both impressed, as much by the music as the quality of the singing and recording. But going back, how would it hold up, today, against two of the most famous of the Mysterii? Well, first is Tomas Luis de Victoria, from 1572.   

Right—that’s hard competition. To me, the Magnum Mysterium of Giovanni Gabrielli is even more of a challenge….

OK, Morten, you ready?