Joseph-Guy Ropartz (1864 - 1955)
Masses and Motets
One episode sums up better than any other the profound musical nature of
Joseph-Guy Ropartz: his
decision to leave Massenet's composition class at the Paris Conservatoire in order to work
with Cesar Franck, to
replace the light melodist of the opera with the mystic, passionate contrapuntist,
Born at Guingamp, Cotes
du Nord, on 15th June 1864, Joseph-Guy Ropartz very soon showed a lively interest
in music, playing the bugle, horn and double bass in various amateur orchestras in his native Britanny.
Out of respect for his parents' wishes, he began law studies. Qualifying in 1885, he then decided to turn to a
musical career. In that year he entered the Paris Conservatoire, in Dubois' harmony class, then Massenet's
composition class. In 1886, the symphonic poem Le chant de la cloche by Vincent D'lndy, a few years his
senior, had impressed him deeply and he decided to work with D'lndy's master, Cesar Franck. In 1892, he
was appointed
director of
the Conservatoire in Nancy, where he did remarkable work, both in the running of the school and in the musical life of the town,
enriching it with contemporary
music. In 1919, he took over as director of the Strasbourg Conservatoire, retiring in 1929 to Lanloup, back in his native
Britanny, where he died on 22nd November 1955 at the age of 91.
Ropartz, a gifted artist - a musician, but also a poet and a writer -left almost 200 works involving virtually all musical genres: an opera Le pays, incidental
music and ballet, five
symphonies, chamber music, melodies and a very fine collection of sacred music.
A profound believer, he was concerned about the beauty of the music to be heard in
church. 'You know I care
a lot about my religious works and that I strive in them to remain musical and at the
same time rigorously religious.
I suffer too much from what I hear in churches and most of the time its artistic
poverty is matched only by its complete lack of any religious feeling.'
From Ropartz's sacred music, this recording has selected three short Masses (i.e.
without a Credo) and a series of motets. The first Mass, Te Deum Loudomus, dedicated to SI Aloysius Gonzaga,
was composed in 1925-26.
It is built on the pattern of the Gregorian Te Deum, whose intervals
underlie the whole of the Kyrie, but which, at the end of the Agnus
Dei, conclude also the whole Mass. Gregorian inspiration colours all the music with a soft tint, to which the
extremely light polyphonic
treatment adds tenderness and reverence. The Gloria particularly brings out
the meaning of the text: the atmosphere created by
the alternating tone/semitone in the Gratias agimus,
the imploring
recto-tono of Qui tollis, succeeded by the
energetic final acclamation.
The Sanctus leads with very beautiful and delicate colouring to the joyful
lights of the Hosanna, before giving place to an astonishing unaccompanied Benedictus, which, by its
transparency, contrasts strongly with what has gone before. Finally, the Agnus Dei alternates a resolute organ motif with
voluptuous vocal responses.
Composed in 1921, the Sainte Anne Mass is more or less constructed on the same
model. Surprisingly, each
movement opens and concludes on a radiant C major chord. The opening theme has
astonishing freedom, turning on
itself, coiling in subtle introspection around the interval of a third which enriches all the movements, in the
spirit of the cyclic form
dear to Cesar Franck. The heart of this work, an appeal for divine pardon, the Qui
tollis of the Gloria, establishes the key of C minor, the
sadder counterpart of the principal key. Gathering more and more brightness, the Mass ends on a final echo of the
opening motif.
The Messe de Sainte Odile, written in 1923, springs from a different aesthetic, at times
more dramatic and more
taut: strongly modulating
harmonies, inverted chromaticisms,
expressive semitones. It is music of images, with supple outlines. But one does find some details common to the two other
Masses: the initial gentleness of the Sanctus, the
unaccompanied
Benedictus, with some fine entries
on the seventh. The Agnus
Dei
achieves musical fullness, with the organ playing a major role, its rich
harmony supporting a melodic
line that is often monodic.
The other pieces are motets, sometimes based on well-known texts (Ave Maria,
Salve Regina), sometimes on rarer texts, linked
with specific
celebrations
(Hic vir despiciens mundum, for the feast of an unordained Confessor of the
Faith). The style differs
from that of the Masses: simpler harmony, easier melodic movement, relatively short
duration, unity of mood
and tempo, clarity and simplicity of the text: the ideal is Palestrinian. Two of these
motets, the Ave Maria and the Ave Verum are, moreover, dedicated to the singers of Saint Gervais, who
had given new life to Palestrina's music to such an extent as to dazzle and inspire Chausson at that time. The contrapuntal technique is beautiful, often
canonic, with rich internal melismata. The music, however, also still finely emphasizes the principal images of
the text, often with very
limited resources, as in the
five unaccompanied motets.
The Domine non sum dignus, for instance, evokes the repentant sinner's humility with its discreet vocal entries and the final
confidence in pardon, with repetition of the text at the end of in extremis in the major key. Sometimes the idea is
inverted: the melody rises on the words 'descendi de coelo', in the Ego sum. But, above all, the music itself
manages to express the profound meaning of the words. the floating fifth - the starkness of the appeal - under the word 'intercede' in the Beata es Virgo Maria or
the lengthening of values of the eternity of heaven's reign - 'regni coelorum' - in Tu es Petrus.
Only the Salve Regina perhaps contrasts a little more clearly with rich, modulating
harmony, melodic phrases sometimes broken and
tortured (gementes et flentes), more frequent chromaticism. These works demonstrate well what links Ropartz
and Franck: it is not really a matter of technique, or
style, but a common mystique,
a real faith tinged with undeniable sensuality, expressed in music through a shared
interest in counterpoint. Their faith
is not marked by fear and anguish, but by tranquil resignation, consolation. Certain musical treatments tend to
recur because of this: the three Masses, at the moment of evoking in the Gloria the only Son of God (Domine Fili
unigenite)
take on an
infinite delicacy, an astonishing tenderness. That is the sign of a profound
attachment for the
Christ figure and of a faith
marked above all by love. Nevertheless, this music will still speak to non-believers - of nostalgia, of poetry, and of
meditation...
Mathieu Ferey
Translation: Wil Gowans