Early Music
One of the most beautiful melodies I have ever heard.
My first encounter with this music was in high school choir.
Mr. Murphy, who was my choir director, one of my English teachers, my piano teacher for a few years, and a person who had the ability to impress into impressionable, hormone riddled pre-adults, something deep and lasting (here I am writing about it almost fifty years later) that at the time I had no ability to describe. It’s even hard to explain now.
It was as if he touched my soul through my ears in a way that would affect how I heard and thought about music from that time on. Somehow he had implanted little, initially dormant seeds that would, over time, sprout into a botanical garden. The sounds, the chords, the blending voices, all working together to express something passionate in a foreign language no less. This was high school choir for me under a profoundly talented musician.
We first sang O Sacred Head Now Wounded in German. It was a part of a large chorale piece composed by Johann Sebastian Bach entitled St. Matthew Passion. I don’t recall singing the entire oratorio. He just pulled this section out. The fact it was in German was actually a good thing because I was able to hear the sounds without the words being of any distraction. At that time, I didn’t know anything about the Bible and spent as little time as I possibly could in a church. I’m not sure this was part of Mr. Murphy’s plan to keep the English words a secret, but I wouldn’t put it past God. I guess my point in telling you this is that while a secular teenager, I heard what I still consider one of the most hauntingly beautiful melodies ever written, and much later when I heard this tune again, I was drawn to want to understand the words as deeply as I could. That’s still the case today. Have some tissue handy.
One more story about Mr. Murphy’s impact on me. He was a crafty devout Catholic, so he would introduce sacred music like the Bach piece into the high school choir’s repertoire. But that wasn’t all. Every December in one evening he would have us go to a number of convalescent homes in town and sing to the patients and nursing staffs. We would start in some common room, like a dinning room, and the elderly that could walk or be wheeled in came to listen to our little mini-Christmas concert. Once we finished this, Mr. Murphy would have us go down all the halls singing carols to those who could not leave their beds. If you want to impact secular teenagers take them into a convalescent home to sing Christmas carols. As we passed each room we would see the faces, some with eyes closed asleep, some confused, but others with tears and smiles because we came to see them. They were touched, we were moved, it was all a bit overwhelming… and exactly what we needed to peel away some of the selfishness of youth.
And one last thing about this melody. It was not composed by Bach. He appropriated it. See if you can hear the sounds of the monasteries of the Middle Ages. It’s almost Gregorian Chant-like. Another similar tune is one of the oldest carols we still sing — O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.
O sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame weighed down Now scornfully surrounded With thorns, Thine only crown How pale thou art with anguish With sore abuse and scorn How does that visage languish Which once was bright as morn What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered T'was all for sinners' gain Mine, mine was the transgression But Thine the deadly pain Lo, here I fall, my Savior 'Tis I deserve Thy place Look on me with Thy favor Vouchsafe to me Thy grace What language shall I borrow To thank Thee, dearest friend For this Thy dying sorrow Thy pity without end O make me Thine forever And should I fainting be Lord, let me never, never Outlive my love for Thee
Hauntingly enchanting. Great start for my day. Thank you.