MetLiveArts presents
ModernMedieval Voices
A Midwinter Feast
Saturday, December 16, 2023 at 3 pm
Fuentidueña Chapel, The Met Cloisters
ModernMedieval Voices
Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek, mezzo-soprano and artistic director
Chloe Holgate, soprano
Martha Cluver, soprano
This performance is made possible by the estate of Katherine Walter Stein.
Intonet hodie
13th century, anonymous
—
Qui creavit celum
15th century, anon.
All Through the Night
trad. Welsh (arr. Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek)
Angelus ad virginum
13th century, anon.
—
O Little Town of Bethlehem
trad. carol (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
Edi beo thu hevene Queene
14th century, anon.
The Coventry Carol (Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child)
16th century, anon. (arr. Mindy Meyers)
Good People All (The Wexford Carol)
trad. Irish
—
Ivy is Good
14th century, anon.
Grene groweth the Holly
16th century, attrib. Henry VIII (1509-1547)
The Holly and the Ivy
trad. British, (arr. Betty Bertaux)
In the Bleak Midwinter
Gustav Holst (1874-1934) / Harold Darke (1888-1976) (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
Winter Wakeneth
Andrew Lovett (b. 1964)
—
There is no Rose of Swych Vertu
trad. Irish (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
Ecce quod natura
15th century, anon.
Lullay, Lullow: I saw a swete semly sight
14th century, anon.
Sainte Nicholas
attrib. Godric of Yorkshire (d. 1140)
Nowell: owt of your sleep aryse
15th century, anon.
This program is a collection of music from the United Kingdom written to commemorate and celebrate the season. Spanning the centuries, from the 13th century to the 21st, it includes plainchant, carols, traditional songs, and other music for Advent and Christmas from England, Ireland, and Wales.
The Middle Ages and Renaissance brought us some of the most beautiful music written in celebration of the Christmas season. Then, as now, popular themes include the adoration of the Virgin Mary (Edi beo thu, Angelus ad virginum, There is no Rose of Swych Vertu) and chants honoring Saint Nicholas, the original Father Christmas (Intonet hodie, Sainte Nicholas). In addition there are songs about the baby Jesus and his birth (Lullay, Lullow: I saw a swete semly sight, Qui creavit celum, The Coventry Carol, Ecce quod natura) and songs of celebration (Nowell: out of your sleep).
Folk music plays an important part of the Christmas tradition: many well-known songs have their origins in folk-song, for example Good People All, All Through the Night and O Little Town of Bethlehem (the English version). The text of There is no Rose of Swych Vertu is sung today to an ancient Irish folk-ballad, The Lamentations of Deidre, arranged by Jacqueline Horner-Kwaitek.
The tradition of celebrating the winter solstice is also represented with pieces old and new that present images of nature (Ivy is Good, Green Groweth the Holly, The Holly and the Ivy) and of winter itself (In the Bleak Midwinter, Comes Winter’s Day, Winter Wakeneth) aligned with the symbolic significance these images hold in the Christmas tradition.
Winter Wakeneth was written especially for today’s program by British composer Andrew Lovett. It is a setting of an anonymous poem from the fourteenth century, which uses the imagery of winter to ponder the brevity and fragility of life.
Intonet hodie
Chant in honor of Saint Nicholas, 13th century, anonymous
|
Intonent hodie voces ecclesie. Dies letitie refulsit in mundo ergo letabundo corde jubilemo et ore jucundo. |
Let the voices of the church sing out today. Thus this joyful day shone forth in a rejoicing world with a jubilant heart and merry mouth. |
| Sanctus hic inclitus domino subditus in cunis positus; ubera vitabat, corpus macerabat et ter in sabbato puer jejunabat. | This famous saint, the lord’s subject, was placed in a cradle; he avoided the breast, denied his flesh, and thrice on Saturday the little boy fasted. |
| Parenti misero submerso puero mari pestifero dedit quod petivit; preces exaudivit, submersum puerum patris custodivit. |
To the wretched parent, his boy drowned in the dangerous sea he granted what was asked; he heard his prayers and gave the drowned boy back to his father. |
| Tribus virginibus victu carentibus [auri egentibus] reddidit honorem, subtraxit errorem reddens virginibus virgineum florem. |
To the three virgins lacking food and needing money he restored honor, saving them from error, giving back to the maidens the flower of virginity. |
—
Qui creavit celum
Carol, 15th century, anon.
Also known as the Song of the Nuns of Chester, this was probably sung as a processional at the church of St. Marys in Chester, England.
|
Qui creavit celum [lully lully lu] Nascitur in stabulo [by by by by by] Rex qui regit seculum [lully lully lu]. |
He who created heaven is born in a stable, the king who rules the ages. |
| Joseph emit panniculum. Mater involvit puerum et ponit in presepio. | Joseph bought a little cloth. The mother swaddled her baby boy and placed him in a manger. |
| Inter animalia jacent mundi gaudia super omnia. | Among the animals, the world’s joys are laid, sweet above all things. |
| Lactat mater domini osculatur parvulum et adorat dominum. | The mother nurses the lord; she kisses her little child and thus adores her lord. |
| Roga mater filium ut det nobis gaudium in perenni gloria. |
Mother pray to your son that he may give us joy in eternal glory. |
| In sempiterna secula in eternum et ultra det nobis sua gaudia. | Through everlasting ages, through eternity and beyond, may he grant us to rejoice in him. |
—
All Through the Night
trad. Welsh (arr. Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek)
Tune collected by Edward Jones and published in Musical and Poetical Relics of the Welsh Bards (1784). Welsh lyrics by John Ceiriog Hughes (1832-1887), English translation by Harold Boulton (1859–1935)
| Sleep my child and peace attend thee, All through the night Guardian angels God will send thee, All through the night; Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loved ones’ watch am keeping, All through the night. |
| Angels watching, e’er around thee, All through the night Midnight slumber close surround thee, All through the night Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and vale in slumber sleeping I my loved ones’ watch am keeping, All through the night. |
| While the moon her watch is keeping, All through the night While the weary world is sleeping, All through the night O’er thy spirit gently stealing, Visions of delight revealing Breathes a pure and holy feeling, All through the night. |
—
Angelus ad virginum
Carol, 13th century, anon.
| Angelus ad virginem, Subintrans in conclave, Virginis formidinem Demulcens, inquit "Ave! Ave, regina virginum: Coeli terraeque dominum Concipies et paries intacta Salutem hominum; Tu porta coeli facta, Medela criminum." |
The angel came to the Virgin, entering secretly into her room; calming the Virgin's fear, he said, "Hail! Hail, queen of virgins: you will conceive the Lord of heaven and earth and bear him, still a virgin, to be the salvation of mankind; you will be made the gate of heaven, the cure of sins." |
| Ad haec, virgo nobilis Respondens inquit ei, "Ancilla sum humilis Omnipotentis Dei. Tibi coelesti nuntio, Tanti secreti conscio, Consentiens et cupiens videre Factum quod audio, Parata sum parere Dei consilio.” |
To this, the noble Virgin, replying, said to him, "I am the humble maidservant of almighty God. To you, heavenly messenger, and bearer of such a great secret, I give my consent, and wishing to see done what I hear, I am ready to obey the will of God." |
| Eia Mater Domini, Quae pacem reddidisti Angelis et homini Cum Christum genuisti! Tuum exora filium Ut se nobis propitium Exhibeat, et deleat peccata, Praestans auxilium Vita frui beata Post hoc exsilium |
Hail, Mother of our Lord, who brought peace back to angels and men when you bore Christ! Pray your son that he may show favor to us and blot out our sins, giving us help to enjoy a blessed life after this exile. |
—
O Little Town of Bethlehem
trad. carol (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
Sung to the tune “Forest Green” adapted from an English folk ballad called “The Ploughboy's Dream” by Ralph Vaughn Williams (1872-1958), first published in The English Hymnal (1906) Text by Phillips Brooks, 1835–1893
| O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light. The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight. |
| For Christ is born of Mary, And, gathered all above While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wond’ring love. O morning stars, together Proclaim the holy birth, And praises sing to God the King, And peace to men on earth. |
| How silently, how silently The wondrous gift is giv’n! So God imparts to human hearts The blessings of his heav’n. No ear may hear his coming; But in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive him, still The dear Christ enters in. |
—
Edi beo thu hevene Queene
14th century, anon.
| Edi beo þu hevene quene folkes frovre and engles blis, moder unwemmed and maiden clene swich in world non oþer nis. On þé hit is wel eþ sene of alle wimmen þu havest þet pris mi swete levedi, her mi béne and reu of mé yif þi wille is. | Blessed be Thou, Queen of heaven, comfort of men and bliss of angels, unblemished mother and pure virgin, such as no other is in the world. As for Thee, it is most readily seen that of all women Thou hast that prize. My sweet Lady, hear my prayer and have pity on me, if Thou wilt. |
| Þu asteye so þe daiy rewe þe deleð from þe deorke nicht, of þe sprong á leóme newe, þat al þis world haveð iliyt. Nis non maide of þine heowe, swo fair, so sschene, so rudi, swo bricht; swete levedi of me þu reowe, and have merci of þin knicht. |
Thou didst ascend like the first dawn that brings dark night to an end; from Thee sprang a new light that has lightened the whole world. There is no other maid like Thee, so fair, so beautiful, so ruddy, so radiant, so bright; sweet Lady, pity me and have mercy on Thy knight. |
| Spronge blostme of one rote, þe holi gost þe reste upón, þet wes for monkunnes bote and heore soule to alesen for on. Levedi milde, softe and swote, ic crie þe merci, ic am þi mon boþe to honde and to fote, on alle wise þat ic kon. |
O blossom sprung forth from a root, the Holy Ghost reposed upon Thee; that was for mankind's salvation to deliver their soul in exchange for one. Gracious Lady, gentle and sweet, I cry to Thee for mercy; I am Thy man with hand and foot, in every way I can. |
| Moder ful of þewes hende Maide dreiy and wel itaucht, ic ém in þine love bende and to þe is al mi draucht. Þu me sschild ye from þe feonde ase þu ert freó, and wilt, and maucht, help me to mi lives ende, and make me wiðþin sone isauyt. | Mother, full of gracious virtues, maiden patient and well-taught, I am in the bonds of Thy love, and everything draws me to Thee. Wouldst Thou shield me from the fiend, as Thou art noble, willing and able; help me to my life's end and reconcile me with Thy son. |
—
The Coventry Carol (Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child)
16th century, anon. (arr. Mindy Meyers)
| Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child, Bye bye, lully, lullay. Thou little tiny child, Bye bye, lully, lullay. |
| O sisters too, how may we do For to preserve this day This poor youngling for whom we sing, "Bye bye, lully, lullay"? |
| That woe is me, poor child, for thee And ever mourn and may For thy parting neither say nor sing, "Bye bye, lully, lullay." |
—
Good People All (The Wexford Carol)
trad. Irish
Text: Diarmaid Ó Muirithe. Sung to a traditional tune (origin unknown) collected in Enniscorthy around 1912, which was printed by the County Wexford Museum, and headed “The Enniscorthy Christmas Carol.”
| Good people all, this Christmas time, Consider well and bear in mind What our good God for us has done In sending his beloved son With Mary holy we should pray, To God with love this Christmas Day In Bethlehem upon that morn, There was a blessed Messiah born |
| Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep Their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep; To whom God’s angels did appear, Which put the shepherds in great fear. ‘Prepare and go,’ the angels said, ‘To Bethlehem; be not afraid, For there you’ll find, this happy morn, A princely Babe, sweet Jesus, born.’ |
| There were three wise men from afar, directed by a glorious star, came boldly on and made no stay until they came where Jesus lay. And when they came unto that place, and looked with love on Jesus’ face, in faith they humbly knelt to greet, with gifts of gold and incense sweet. |
—
Ivy is Good
14th century, anon.
| Refrain: Ivy is good and glad to see, Ivy is fair in his degree |
| Ivy is both fair and green in winter and in summer also; and it is medecinable I ween, who knew the virtues that long thereto: |
| Ivy hath virtues full good; namely, spreading over the ground. Whether it be in town or wood it helpeth the sore and maketh sound: |
| When other trees most do fail, then beareth Ivy his berries full bold. In great storms of snow and hail it spares for no weather’s cold: |
| Where it taketh hold it keepeth fast and strenketh it that is him by; it keepeth wall from coast and waste, as men may see all day at hye. Ivy: I can tell no cause why but we must love that gentle tree: |
—
Grene groweth the Holly
16th century, attrib. Henry VIII (1509-1547)
| Grene groweth the holy, So doth the ive, Thow wynter blastys blow never so hye, Grene groweth the holy. |
Green grows the holly, So does the ivy, Though winter blasts blow never so strong, Green grows the holly. |
—
The Holly and the Ivy
trad. British, (arr. Betty Bertaux)
| The holly and the ivy, When they are both full grown. Of all the trees that are in the wood, The holly bears the crown. |
| Chorus: Oh, the rising of the sun, The running of the deer. The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the quire. |
| The holly bears a blossom As white as lily flower; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ To be our sweet Savior. Chorus |
| The holly bears a berry As red as any blood; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ To do poor sinners good. Chorus |
| The holly bears a prickle As sharp as any thorn; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ On Christmas day in the morn. Chorus |
| The holly bears a bark As bitter as any gall; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ For to redeem us all. Chorus |
—
In the Bleak Midwinter
Gustav Holst (1874-1934) / Harold Darke (1888-1976) (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
| In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago. |
| Angels and archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; But His mother only, in her maiden bliss, Worshipped the beloved with a kiss. |
| Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day, Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay; Enough for Him, whom angels fall before, The ox and ass and camel which adore. |
| What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part; Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart. |
—
Winter Wakeneth
Andrew Lovett (b. 1964)
A note about the composer: Andrew Lovett moved from the UK to take up a position at Princeton University in 2009. He specializes in chamber opera and vocal music, especially combined with electronics. In 2017, his comic opera The Analysing Engine was performed at The Wallace Theater, Princeton. He also has a strong interest in silent movies, especially by Charlie Chaplin.
| Wynter wakeneth al my care, Nou this leves waxeth bare. Ofte y sike ant mourne sare When hit cometh in my thoht Of this worldes joie, hou hit goth al to noht. |
Winter awakens all my grief, Now these leaves grow bare. Often I sigh and sorely mourn, When it enters my thoughts, Regarding this world's joy, how it all comes to nought. |
| Nou hit is ant nou hit nys, Also hit ner nere, ywys; That moni mon seith, soth hit ys— Al goth bote godes wille: Alle we shule deye, thah us like ylle. |
Now it is, and now it is not, As if it had never been, indeed; As many men say, so it is— All goes away, except God's will; We all shall die, though we like it ill. |
| Al that gren me graueth grene, Nou hit faleweth al by dene: Jesu help that hit be sene Ant shild us from helle! For y not whider y shal, ne hou longe her duell |
All the grain, which I planted green, Now it fallows1 altogether: Jesus, help that this be known And shield us all from hell! For I know not whither I shall go, Nor how long there I'll dwell. |
—
There is no Rose of Swych Vertu
trad. Irish (arr. Horner-Kwiatek)
Text taken from the famous 15th century Rose Carol of the same name. so-called as it is one of several carols that likens the Virgin Mary to a rose, due to the flower’s beauty and purity as well as its resilience. Sung, in Sean Nos style (in which the melody is highly ornamented) to the tune The Lamentation of Deirdre for the Sons of Usnach, a traditional Irish ballad that may date from pre-Christian times. It was collected by Edward Bunting (1773-1843) and first published in “Ancient Songs of Ireland,” 1840.
| Refrain: Ther is no rose of swych vertu As is the rose that bare Jhesu; Alleluya. |
Refrain: There is no rose of such virtue As is the rose that bore Jesus, Alleluia. |
| For in this rose conteynyd was Heuen and erthe in lytyl space, Res miranda. |
For in this rose was contained both heaven and earth in a little space, a thing to wonder at. |
| Be that rose we may weel see That he is God in personys thre, Pari forma. |
By that rose we may well see that he is God in persons three, but of equal form. |
| The aungelys sungyn the shperdes to: ‘Gloria in excelcis Deo.’ Gaudeamus. |
The angels sang to the shepherds, “Glory in the highest to God.” Let us rejoice! |
| Leue we al this worldly merthe, And folw we this joyful berthe; Transeamus. |
Let us leave this worldly mirth and follow this joyful birth. Let us go. |
—
Ecce quod natura
15th century, anon.
| Ecce quod natura mutat sua jura: virgo parit pura dei filium. Ecce, novum gaudium, ecce novum mirum: virgo parit filium, que non novit virum; que non novit virum, sed ut pirus pirum, gleba fert sphirum, rosa lilium. |
Behold, nature changes her law: a pure virgin bears God’s son. Behold, a new joy, behold, new wonder: a virgin bears a son without knowing man; without knowing man, but as the pear tree bears a pear, the earth creates a sapphire and the rose a lily. |
| Mundum deus flebilem videns in ruina, florem delectabilem produxit de spina; produxit de spina virgo que regina, mundi medicina, salus gencium. |
This doleful world God saw in ruins, so a delectable rose he produced from the thorn; he produced from the thorn a virgin queen, a healing for the world and the salvation of its people. |
| Nequivit divinitas plus humiliari, nec nostra fragilitas magis exaltari; magis exaltari quam celo locari, deo coequari per conjugium. |
Divinity could not be more humbled, nor could our fragility be more exalted; more exalted than to be placed in heaven, equal with God, through this union. |
—
Lullay, Lullow: I saw a swete semly sight
14th century, anon.
| Refrain: Lully, lullow, lully, lullay, Baw, baw, my barne, Slepe softly now. |
|
| I saw a swete semly sight. A blisful birde, a blossum bright that murnyng made and mirth of mange. |
I saw a sweet, beautiful sight, a blissful maiden, a blossom bright, who mourned and rejoiced together. |
| A maydin moder, mek and myld, in credil kep a knaue child that softly sleep; sche sat and sange. |
A maiden mother, meek and mild, in a cradle kept her boy child, who softly slept; she sat and sang. |
—
Sainte Nicholas
attrib. Godric of Yorkshire (d. 1140)
| Sainte Nicholaes, Godes druth, tymbre us faiere scoone hus. At thi burth, at thi bare, Sainte Nicholaes, bring us wel thare. |
Saint Nicholas, God’s beloved, graciously make beautiful dwelling places for us. Through your birth, through your bier, Saint Nicholas, bring us safely there. |
—
Nowell: owt of your slepe aryse
15th century, anon.
| Refrain: Nowel, nowel, nowel! |
|
| Owt of your slepe aryse & wake for God manynd nowe hath ytake al of a maide without eny make; of al women she bereth the belle. Nowel. | Out of your sleep arise and awaken, for God has taken human form from a maid without any equal: of all women she is best. Nowell! |
| And, þorwe a maide faire & wys, now man is made of ful gret pris;now angelys knelen to mannys seruys; & al þis tyme al þis byfel. Nowel. |
And through a fair and wise maiden humankind is now brought to its full worth; now the angels kneel in the service of humanity; and at Christmas time, all this took place. Nowell! |
| Now man is briyter þan þe sonne; now man in heuen an hye shal wonne; blessyd God þis game is begonne; & his moder emperesse of helle. Nowel. | Now man is brighter than the sun; man shall now dwell on high; blessed be God that this game is begun, and his mother the empress of hell. Nowell! |
Translations by Susan Hellauer, Michael Smith, Marsha Genensky, A. Jokinen.
Leadership support for MetLiveArts provided by:
The Adrienne Arsht Fund for Resilience through Art
Jody and John Arnhold, Frank and Lydia Bergen Foundation, Betsy and Edward Cohen / Areté Foundation, the Director’s Fund, Kathryn O. Greenberg, The Kaplen Brothers Fund, New York State Council on the Arts, Stavros Niarchos Foundation, Cynthia Hazen Polsky and Leon B. Polsky, The Howard and Sarah D. Solomon Foundation, the estate of Katherine Walter Stein, Douglas Dockery Thomas, Barbara Tober
Additional major supporters:
Sarah Arison, The David Berg Foundation, Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, The Fan Fox & Leslie R. Samuels Fund, the Adbul Latif Jameel Community Initiatives Fund, the Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman Fund, the Grace Jarcho Ross and Daniel G. Ross Concert Fund, Peter Steinberg and Kathrine Gehring, Helen Lee Warren and David Warren, William H. Wright II
Firebird Fellows and Firebirds:
Jenny Gerard Brown and Barry L. Brown, Magda Dvir, Constance Emmerich, Kenneth Koen, Deborah Paul, Barbara A. Pelson, Rajika and Anupam Puri, Douglas and Jean Renfield-Miller, Meryl Rosofsky and Stuart H. Coleman, Bonnie J. Sacerdote, Melanie Shorin and Greg S. Feldman, Beatrice Stern, Douglas Dockery Thomas, Lulu C. and Anthony W. Wang
Produced by The Metropolitan Museum of Art's Department of Live Arts
Limor Tomer, Lulu C. and Anthony W. Wang General Manager of Live Arts
Art Priromprintr, Senior Administrator
Nunally Kersh, Senior Producer
Harrison Corthell, Production Manager
Emery Kerekes, Program Coordinator
Madyson Barnfield, Production Associate
Audrey Rosenblith, Associate for Administration
Ricardo V. Barton, Associate for Administration
Kerrigan Quenemoen, Producing Associate
The Metropolitan Museum of Art is on the island known as Mannahatta—now called Manhattan—in Lenapehoking, the homeland of the Lenape people.
