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On Bill Mahrt’s Retirement as Choirmaster
of the St. Ann Choir (June, 2024)
W e all should thank our God for William Mahrt,
I nto whose hands He placed a sacred trust,
L eaving to him to keep the aural art
L aid down with care, but left to gather dust
I n libraries worldwide. As pants the hart
A t water’s ebb, the faithful’s thirst was strong,
M ore worthy praise to bring to God in song.
M usical drink was his gift to those ears,
A ssistants’ and celebrants’, too.
H eart–lifting Morales, Josquin, and their peers,
R esplendent old chant choired anew,
T endered with care throughout fifty–two years.
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Poet’s Note
William P. Mahrt, renowned music historian and former Chairman of the Music Department at Stanford University and director of its Early Music Singers, died January 1st. The Choir (not to be confused with the professional St. Ann Chapel Choir) regularly sings Vespers at St. Ann Chapel, Palo Alto (named in honor of Claire Booth Luce’s daughter Ann), and provides polyphonic music and Gregorian Chant for Masses at St. Thomas Aquinas Church, also in Palo Alto.
Josquin Depres (various spellings, 1455-1521) was the preeminent composer of his day, in all genres, but especially in the sacred motet. He is the leading figure in the transition from the early Renaissance, in which canonic devices and organization through rhythmic repetition prevailed in sacred music, to a fluid style more concerned with expressing the meaning of the text. Representative works: Ave Maria … virgo serena, Miserere mei, Deploration de Jean Ockeghem. Cristobal de Morales, ~1500-1553, was the most prominent Spanish composer before Tomas Luis de Victoria. His output, unlike Josquin’s, was almost entirely of sacred music. (Both men knew their worth and had wide reputations for their prickly personalities.) The Renaissance, prior to the appearance of the relatively familiar figures Palestrina, Byrd, Victoria, and Lassus, was peopled by an astonishing number of composers of great accomplishment. Bill Mahrt specialized in performing chant and sacred polyphony from Josquin’s day through to Monteverdi, occasionally straying forward to do Schubert, Bruckner, and even a Mass written by a member of the St. Ann Choir.
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Julian D. Woodruff writes poetry and short fiction for children and adults. He recently finished 2020-2021, a poetry collection. A selection of his work can be read at Parody Poetry, Lighten Up Online, Carmina Magazine, and Reedsy..
I really enjoyed your use of the letters of William Mahrt as the beginning letters of each line and the ease of composing this ode with wonderful rhyme! He would be honored such an excellent poem at his demise.
Lovely! I love Joaquin’s music, and wish I could have heard this choir.
Thanks, Cynthia. Bill was also director of Stanford’s Early Music Singers. Both ensembles continue, under new direction.
Thank you, Roy. Acrostics such as this were an occasional feature of poetry in the late middle ages and Renaissance (e.g., the text of Josquin’s motet “Illibata
Virgo” (J is usually conjectured to be the poet, too).
Mahrt was one of a few but growing number of figures trying to revive the Catholic Church’s immense corpus of largely neglected liturgical & non-liturgical musical masterpieces.
This is a very moving and respectful tribute, Julian. I’m intrigued by the acrostic form which you make look easy (which I’m sure is anything but!) I’m not familiar with Mr. Mahrt’s work but look forward to doing some exploring on YouTube. I especially like your understated reference to the panting hart: “As the hart panteth after the waterbrooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.” — Psalm 42:1. I have sung a hymnal version of this psalm many times.
Thank you, Brian
Prof. Mahrt was special–not a singer, nor an organist, nor yet of the scholarly type who lives in libraries and produces tome upon tome, he was nonetheless an enthusiastic and judicious exponent of the Church’s choral treasury.
The passage to which you refer alludes to “Sicut cervus,” a Scripture passage that through the hands of Palestrina became one of most well-known of Renaissance motets.
This is an excellent acrostic poem. I wish we would see more of them.
The preservation of the Church’s musical patrimony now lies in the hands of private persons like William Mahrt. Our corrupt hierarchy and its administrative flunkies care nothing about the matter.
Amen. The same goes for church art and architecture. At least with the restoration of Notre Dame de Paris, church officials (as far as I know) had no say in the dismal altar & baptismal font.
Thanks for your kind comment, Joseph.
Sad to say, Julian, church officials are entirely responsible for the “dismal altar and baptismal font” at Notre Dame de Paris, and for everything that qualifies as “furniture” (mobilier en francais). This includes a modernist lectern which seems to have replaced any pulpit. The lectern remains unnoticed, however, because it has to be draped with paraments of the proper liturgical color. These also surround the new altar, which must as well be spread with linens, so that its dismal quality is largely hidden. And the old altar, refurbished to its former glory, stands in the background. There is now confusion and amusement over the rhyming question, “Quel autel?” What or which altar? The government was only responsible for restoring the building, with its furniture left to archbishop and clergy.
Julian, this is a beautiful and moving tribute that paints a picture of an obviously well-respected and talented choir master I now have a desire to search on the internet. You have also given me the urge to write an acrostic poem. Thank you for your stirring poem and for your inspiration.
Thank you, Susan, for your kind words. I haven’t searched the Net for posts of the St. Ann Choir or the Early Music Singers; I hope you find some excellent repertory, well sung. (There may be surprises: some time ago I was looking for a performance of Bruckner’s famous motet “Christus factus est” [which my wife & I had sung under Prof. Mahrt’s direction]; by far the best available rendition was done by a Japanese high school chorus!)
Have fun with the acrostic thing. I’m sure you’ll invest yours with some inventive twists!
It is good, Julian, to see an acrostic celebrating a name. As it’s a late medieval and Renaissance device in particular, Mahrt must have much appreciated the poem for his retirement. Because your poem focuses especially on Mahrt’s “care” for sacred music, he must have been one of those knowledgeable “organizer” figures invaluable everywhere such music is to be heard on a continuing basis. There have been far too few of them in recent times–and far too little attention given to the large array of talented composers from the Renaissance era.
It is telling that the many composers favored since Vatican II are those whose modernity is their chief recommendation. When their works are compared to those of past masters from whom they refused to learn, no wonder the faithful are longing for better. Now that Mahrt and his dedication to treasures of the past are recognized, and he has followers to continue it, we can hope there will be greater scope for a composer such as Kevin Allen and performers like the youthful men’s schola Floriani.
About celebrants and sacred music, let me give you an opinion from one recently ordained. To him, the considerable length of musical compositions in the liturgy (which is one of the reasons older works are said to be inappropriate today) gives the priest more time to pray silently during Mass. We could all benefit from priests who pray more!
Julian: An elegant tribute and a beautiful sonnet. Your use of acrostic – which is extremely difficult to do well – reminds me of Columbanus (d. 615), who wrote such poems for his monks and colleagues, to appreciate and instruct them. Thank you for this thoughtful work. T. M.
Thanks for your comments and information, Margaret. In all honesty, I haven’t gone out of my way to hear church music of worth composed since, say, 1950. Do you know any of the music of Morton Lauridsen? I was introduced to him by what is probably his best-known piece, the “O magnum mysterium.” That in my opinion is worthy of a place beside Victoria’s motet on the same words.
The sense of time and its passage must have been utterly different even 100-150 years ago: Sunday sermons last 2 hours or more concerts (“academies”) that would have been 3-4 times the length of a normal concert today.
At Mass, there were toccatas for the Elevation (e.g., by Frescobaldi) that lasted 5 minutes. (Was the priest actually holding the Host aloft for that entire time–perhaps in some kind of procession so all congregants could closely “behold Him who was pierced”?)
Thank you, T.M. I wasn’t thinking to write a sonnet here, though you’re right to see a resemblance. Instead, I was thinking of the many Renaissance motets
that move from duple meter to triple (and usually back to duple again), like Josquin’s “Ave Maria … virgo serena.”
Columbanus is a name new to me. I’ll have to look him up.
Yes, Julian, I’ve heard Morten Lauridsen–in the concert hall. We hear a lot of him hereabouts, as he is still living and long associated with the University of Southern California. He is, I have heard, the “most performed” American composer. But when I spoke of the “most favored composers since Vatican II,” I meant the ones whose works are performed in church. Their names appear in the throwaway missalette music issue.
Lauridsen became as popular as he is among concert audiences through someone similar to William Mahrt, namely, Paul Salamunovich of the Los Angeles Master Chorale–and of Saint Charles Church in Hollywood. Salamunovich too did “knowledgeable organizing,” and I think he was conductor for many of the recordings that spread Lauridsen’s fame. I would be happy to hear “O Magnum Mysterium” in church, and Lauridsen has a long list of works with titles that might look like Josquin’s repertoire. But this is because of the texts. Lauridsen treats them in varied ways, and in my opinion, few are suitable for church (probably not intended for liturgical performance). You’ll have to make your judgment on others. Do listen to Kevin Allen, though. And beware because there is a sports player by the same name who also has videos on YouTube. I recommend Allen’s “Ave Sacer Christi Sanguis,” which I’ve sung under his direction, and “Lead Kindly Light,” a setting of Newman’s poem and hymn.
Thanks, Margaret. Your knowledge is a true blessing to me and this community as a whle.
Thank you, Julian, for this wonderful Acrostic. I love the form as I used it often to wake up whatever creative thought might be lurking when I used to write. Using people’s names was great fun if you knew them as you did Mr. Mahrt.