Composer Paul Crabtree, 2009
In 2007 Crabtree’s Tenebræ Responsories received their first concert performance. The concert was presented by Conspirare, under Craig Hella Johnson, in Texas. In preparation for that program, a short written interview was prepared and we thought it might be nice to reprint this for BCE audiences. Thanks to Paul Crabtree for sharing this… and see you soon at the concerts where you can ask Paul your own questions!
As we approach the concerts, be sure you’re planning to attend if you’re in Boston metro. We’re thrilled to share that Paul will attend both concerts and will be around to meet audience members. For tickets, you can visit our box office. For more information about the program and the other works including several works from the Renaissance, visit this page.
How did the Tenebrae piece come about?
This was originally a commission by St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. But with a sudden change in personnel there, interest in the project also changed. So I completed it on my own. It came about because of my own participation in Tenebræ services in the past. It’s largely a forgotten service in many liturgical churches today. It’s just not done much any more and I’m not sure why. It’s very moving and a very cleansing process in the Holy Week progression with the death and rebirth cycle.
A true Tenebræ service uses a candle holder, called a Tenebræ hearse, which holds 15 candles. Accordingly, there are 15 Psalms, and as each is sung, the light from one candle is extinguished until total darkness is achieved. The traditional, spoken texts between the Psalms are from the Old Testament book of Lamentations, the writings of St. Augustine, and the New Testament book of Hebrews. The nine responsories are a cappella reflections on the readings.
Why have you chosen to use songs by Bob Dylan in the responsories?
Bob Dylan at Lida Festival in Stockholm, Sweden, in 1996. Photo by Henryk Kotowski.
In my experience of singing the traditional Tenebræ, the texts can be somewhat anti-Semitic. I have chosen to respond to that by being consciously inspired by the music of a Jewish artist. I think that interpretation of the texts has traditionally portrayed Jesus as being very mystical, whereas juxtaposing the Dylan references shows him to be more human. For example, with the betrayal by Judas, Jesus’ response is based on Dylan’s “You’ve got a lot of nerve, to say you are my friend.” With the anguish in the garden, when Jesus says, “Let this cup pass from me,” the music is based on Dylan’s “Father of night, Father of day, Father who taketh the darkness away.”
My interpretation here is to show the humanity of Christ. Here he is more the hunted animal than a resigned, designated sacrifice. Though the subject matter is dark, I don’t wield darkness like a club. The music is full of color and beauty, not all minor keys. The harmony is very approachable and pure.
Why do you choose to work in the medium of choral music?
Part of that is confidence. I’m very confident in writing for choirs. My world of composing is firmly rooted in the choral field. That comes from my own experience of singing in choirs. But I do sometimes like to knock the traditional flowery sound of choral music; turn it on its ear, so to speak. It takes me much longer to write an orchestral piece. Having said that, I am currently working on an overture for the Southern Arizona Symphony. It’s based on the sounds of Las Vegas slot machines and Frank Sinatra songs.
From what sources do you normally draw your inspiration?
It’s a real mix of things. Growing up, my parents were appalled to discover that I liked opera. It confounded my father. I also loved folk rock and bands like Jethro Tull and Genesis. I love crossing all the dividing lines. Our huge Tower Records store here in San Francisco purposefully quarantined the classical recordings in a separate building. I love to breach those walls and bridge the gap with my compositions. This separation thing is not healthy. I’m delighted to see young classical musicians starting to rebuild audiences by reaching across boundaries.
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