Rescuing the Requiem: Kyrie from Requiem, Opus 9, by Maurice Duruflé

In all time of our tribulation; in all time of our prosperity;
in the hour of death; in the day of judgment: Help us, good Lord.

— from The Litany

The traditional title of the ancient Mass for the Dead is “Requiem,” which hails from the first word of the Introit for this occasional Mass, “Rest (requiem) eternal grant to them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on them.” Readers who are not of the Roman Catholic faith may be a bit surprised to encounter a column on a musical setting of the Requiem from a Lutheran writer, but we must be cautious not to throw out the “Lutheran baby” with the “Medieval bath water.” The text of the Requiem omits the Gloria and the Creed, alters the Agnus Dei to include prayers for the dead, and includes numerous texts on the final judgment that are curiously devoid of the Gospel. Two sacred texts remain intact, however, which overlap with the traditional “Sunday” text of the Mass: the Kyrie (“Lord, have mercy”) and the Sanctus (“Holy, holy, holy”). These texts have inspired composers through the centuries, leaving a veritable treasure trove in our ecclesiastical back yard. Welcome to the first installment of our occasional “Rescuing the Requiem” series, which seeks to extract and explore excerpts from the Requiem repertoire, beginning with the Kyrie of the Requiem of Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986).

Maurice Duruflé was a world famous French organist, composer, and teacher. He first encountered Gregorian chant during the six years he spent at the Rouen Cathedral, an important art form that shaped his Requiem. He later studied at the Paris Conservatoire and served as assistant organist at the Cathedral of Notre Dame, where he was inspired by the finest organists of his day. After graduation, Duruflé became organist at Sasint Etienne-du-Mont in Paris, and also served as Professor of Harmony at the Paris Conservatoire. He was notoriously and neurotically critical of his own compositions, resulting in a modest output of only thirteen published works, but each work is of the highest possible caliber. The Requiem (1947) is dedicated to the memory of his father, who had died in 1945, just five months after the liberation of Paris. Subsequent performances on Armistice Day (November 1948 and 1949) have created the impression that the Requiem was a response to the Second World War. When the composer died in 1986, it was earning more in rental and performance fees than any other work by a contemporary French composer.

Every movement of this Requiem, with the exception of the Pie Jesu (“Merciful Jesus”), is based on the chant melodies associated with the ancient Requiem Mass. The aim of plain chant is to carry the text, rather than to paint it, so that the words tend to predominate. Listen, for a moment, to the traditional Kyrie chant that was sung for centuries as part of the Mass for the Dead:
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Kyrie eleison [sung 3x], Christe eleison [sung 6x], Kyrie eleison [sung 3x].
Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy.

Duruflé skillfully weaves this chant melody into the Kyrie of his Requiem. Even if you do not read Gregorian chant notation, try to find the similarity between the following chant (look solely at the notes above the word “Kyrie”) that you just heard and the opening statement of Duruflé’s Kyrie, which is placed below it for comparison.

Hamer’s helping hints: the four notes above the “Ky-“ of “Kyrie” in the chant notation should be sung from the bottom up, with F-natural serving as the starting pitch. The “VI” in the upper left-hand corner indicates “Mode 6,” which would sound like F Major to the modern ear. The character that looks like a flat sign is, well, a flat sign.
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​If you manage to navigate through the four-line chant notation, you will see that Duruflé’s chant is about as close in form to the Medieval chant as his image is to the actor, Alfred Molina:

Composer Maurice Duruflé’ (1902-1986), known for his organ playing, compositions, and teaching

Actor Alfredo “Alfred” Molina (b. 1953), known for his roles in “Raiders of the Lost Ark” and “Luther”

​Now listen to the opening line of the Kyrie (starting at 0:22 in the following video) and see if it sounds similar to the opening statement of the chant from the previous video.

Did you notice how the natural rise and fall of the melodic line “sings well” before it gives way the increasingly denser texture? Indeed, there are few works in the entire repertoire that are as singable as this masterwork. This is rather astonishing, since the composer had no professional choral experience as an adult, and he lived in a city that was known for its poor choirs!

There are several other features to note about this setting of the Kyrie, from the BBC's "Afghanistan—A Service of Commemoration," broadcast live from St. Paul's Cathedral, London (13 March 2015):
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​0:54        Listen for the plaint chant melody as a cantus firmus or sustained melody on the solo stop of the organ. It matches the plain chant that you heard above, note for note.

1:23        Notice the members of the British Armed Forces in attendance at the service, for whom the prayer for mercy rings especially true!

1:49        See our allies in the British Armed Forces on patrol in Afghanistan.

1:50        The Christe Eleison section begins, with the voicing reduced to two-part women’s voices, producing a thinner texture and a more luminous sound the prayer to Christ.

2:40        The second Kyrie section, informally known as “Kyrie II,” begins, gradually leading to the dynamic climax of the work. Then the volume decreases, the voices settle, and the fervent prayer for mercy seems to return to the earth in peace.
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Is it possible that Robert Summer was correct in saying that this is “one of the most beautiful Kyrie movements in all of music” (Choral Masterworks from Bach to Britten, p. 129)? Nick Jones, who wrote numerous CD liner notes for the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, once wrote that the Duruflé Requiem is perhaps unsurpassed in the trouble twentieth century. You, the readers (or should I say “the listeners”?) are cordially invited to explore the entire Requiem and form your own opinion. May I suggest that the only frustration with Duruflé is the relatively small number of works that he published? He may leave you wanting more music, but his music will never leave you wanting.

How might the local pastor and his parish make use of a choral setting of the Kyrie? The video you just watched from St. Paul’s Cathedral in London is a good case study in learning to pray the Kyrie in the corporate liturgy. This is just one small portion of the Service of Commemoration for military members who served in Afghanistan, but did you notice how seamlessly the spoken liturgy flowed in and out of the choral music? The structure of the historic liturgy is an excellent opportunity for pastors, church musicians, and congregations to delve deeper into the theology and music of every part of the liturgy. How many people who attended the service in this video, for instance, developed a deeper appreciation for this prayer of the faithful? Far from sinners crying out to an angry God (its traditional misunderstanding), the Kyrie gives the church a voice to pray for gifts of the Gospel—life, salvation, and resurrection from the dead—that proceed from the Father, through the Son, by the Spirit. The following excerpt from The Litany summarizes the meaning of the Kyrie in the time of death here and now, and in the time of judgment yet to come:
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​From all sin, from all error, from all evil;
From the crafts and assaults of the devil; from sudden and evil death;
From pestilence and famine; from war and bloodshed; from sedition and from rebellion;
From lightning and tempest; from all calamity by fire and water; and from everlasting death:

​Good Lord, deliver us!