Interviews with Catholic Composers — (7) Henrique Coe

It is my great pleasure to resume the Composer Interview series that has already featured six other Catholic composers (a full listing may be found at the end).

Tell us about your musical background: when and how you began singing or playing instruments, your most influential teacher, how your interest in composing sacred music was enkindled. 

Henrique Coe: I was born in Niterói, Brazil, in 1986. Although my parents are not musicians, they introduced me to music education when I was a child, including piano lessons. In grades 6-12, I studied at Colégio Salesiano Santa Rosa, the Salesian school in my hometown. The school was founded in 1883 and its wind band was founded in 1888. About a century later, the wind band was performing a symphonic repertoire of high complexity. In 1997, right after entering the Salesian school, I joined the symphonic band, which was conducted by Brother Affonso Gonçalves dos Reis (1916-2011) for many decades and by his assistant conductors.

In the symphonic band, after experimenting a few instruments, I started learning the alto saxophone. I really enjoyed playing my new instrument, and the possibility of going to an international competition with the band motivated me to study even more, as I needed to improve quickly to play the required repertoire. Indeed, I would study hours and hours a day. We ended up not going to the competition due to financial reasons, but those myriads of hours of practicing were extremely important for my development as a musician.

In the following years, while I was still playing in the symphonic band, I have also received music formation by other means and played in other ensembles, notably the Orquestra Sinfônica Brasileira Jovem (Brazilian Youth Symphony Orchestra). I had private lessons with Cristiano Alves, a famous clarinetist (who also plays the saxophone) from important orchestras in Rio de Janeiro and who used to play in the Salesian symphonic band in Niterói. With other teachers, I studied jazz and Brazilian popular music, flute, guitar, music theory and functional harmony. The latter had a great impact in my career, as I started sketching my first melodies and harmonies. As a side note, I started studying the violin in this year of 2020 (better late than never).

By the time to applying to university, I was not motivated to pursue a career as a classical saxophonist for a few reasons, including the lack of opportunities to play the saxophone in orchestras. Thus, I decided to study economics and management, although I did take some credits in conducting at university. I had the opportunity to conclude my management degree in France, where I was introduced to the boys’ choir Petits Chanteurs d’Aix-en-Provence. I was very impressed with kids singing in such a high level.

Additionally, during my teenage years I did not go to Mass very often, but just before going to France I started going to Mass again. When meeting the boy’s singers, I could appreciate not only the quality of their singing, but also the spiritual aspect of a great part of their repertoire, and I could also sing at Mass with them. Back to Brazil, a priest invited me to start a children’s choir in his parish and so we founded the Pequenos Cantores de São Judas Tadeu.

While working in Rio de Janeiro, I went back to music school and concluded a degree in music education at Conservatório Brasileiro de Música. During this degree, I also studied subjects from the degree of composition, notably harmony, fugue, composition, and counterpoint. The last two were taught by Prof. Armando Lôbo, who introduced me to different composition techniques, including medieval techniques, which became part of my style.

In 2013, I moved to Canada, where I did a master’s degree in composition at Université de Montréal, having studied with Profs. François-Hugues Leclair and Alan Belkin. Right after, I did a doctoral degree in composition at the University of Toronto, having studied with Profs. Christos Hatzis and Norbert Palej. At first, I was surprised that my sacred pieces and my instrumental pieces based on religious themes were being well accepted at university and in the music environment in general. But I also realized that, in addition to its spiritual value, sacred music is an essential part of music history, and that many of the most important composers in the past and in present time write sacred music.

Defend Us in Battle – chamber orchestra version

Is there a sacred music composer—or are there several composers—whose work you find most captivating, either as a source of delight, or as direct inspirations and models for your own work?

Gregorian chant clearly has a great influence in my work, both choral and instrumental. Indeed, many of my compositions are based on Gregorian chant melodies or quote some of them. Yet this influence is not limited to the reproduction of melodies. Indeed, the sonority of Gregorian chant has a great influence in many of my compositions, notwithstanding other techniques that may be used at the same time.

One of the main struggles of contemporary composers is “not to sound like a 19th century composer.” Although almost all orchestras in the world mostly perform tonal music, composition students usually feel pressure at university not to write tonal music, even if there is no written rule prohibiting it. As a result, composers feel they need to “move forward” in their style. Despite the overall aesthetics that emerged in the 20th century, there are modern and contemporary techniques that are very interesting, and I do use some them in my pieces. However, one should realize that “moving backwards” or combining past and new techniques is another way of developing a style.

In my work, very often we find modalism instead of tonalism, although I do like tonal music very much. Another feature present in many of my compositions is what I call the “Medieval sonorities” of parallel fifths and octaves, which were vastly used in the first polyphonies composed by Medieval monks. Interestingly, those are sonorities that we learn to avoid in tonal music, but they are potent and can sound very beautiful when used intentionally in a modal context. In other words, it is an elegant aesthetics based on Medieval polyphony that does not sound like tonal music.

Counterpoint from the Renaissance and from the Baroque has also a significant influence in my writing. I admire the art of the fugue and have learnt much from it. Despite my background in functional harmony, it is common for me to think more of intervals than of chords when writing some passages. Although I do not try to imitate it exactly, I consider the music of Palestrina and his contemporaries as models of sacred polyphony. As stated by Pope Saint Pius X, “Classic Polyphony agrees admirably with Gregorian Chant, the supreme model of all sacred music” (Tra le Sollecitudini, n. 4).

Finally, my work is also influenced by the music of Classicism and of Romantism, and by modern and contemporary music. There are occasions in which I may not enjoy a piece or an entire concert that I attend, but as a composer I can find something interesting in it that could be used differently within another context. Nevertheless, I have in mind that beauty is more important than techniques.

Three pieces for the Dedication of the Montréal Cathedral

If you were given an unlimited budget for musicians for a solemn pontifical Mass, what works would you include?

Many are the possibilities of great works that would serve very well a pontifical Mass. I personally like the sound of boys’ choir very much, with boys singing soprano and alto, and teenagers or adults singing tenors and basses. I also like the sound of a schola cantorum formed by a few men singing Gregorian chant. I love orchestral sound, but I do think the organ has a more “liturgical sound” than an orchestra, although orchestral instruments are not completely excluded from the liturgy. Therefore, I would have a schola cantorum singing Gregorian chant for the Propers, a boys’ choir singing sacred polyphony a capella for the Ordinary and for Offertory and Communion motets, and an organist improvising on Gregorian chant melodies in some parts of the liturgy.

The language of sacred music, as of Catholic worship in general, remains a controversial subject. What are your thoughts about the place of Latin in the liturgy?

As a composer having lived in different countries, I find it more practical to use texts in Latin than in vernacular languages. The sacred texts in Latin can be sung in Brazil, in Canada, in the United States, and anywhere in the world. If the texts were in English, maybe the compositions would not be sung in the liturgy in Brazil, for example. While I appreciate having the translation of the texts, the universality of Latin in sacred music is remarkable. And even secular choirs sing in Latin because Mozart and so many others used texts in Latin in their compositions, which constitute a great part of the choral repertoire.

Exultet Gaudio

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Interviews with Catholic Composers — (6) Paul Jernberg

Many NLM readers will need no introduction to Paul Jernberg, whose beautiful music has been mentioned in the past by my colleague David Clayton. Jernberg’s work is characterized by a Byzantine flavor of harmonization that he brings to settings of both Latin and vernacular liturgical texts.

Tell us about your musical background: when and how you began singing or playing instruments, your most influential teacher, how your interest in composing sacred music was enkindled. 

Born in Chicago in 1953, my earliest musical formation came from being immersed in beautiful music in my home and church. My paternal grandmother was a concert violinist, my father was also a fine violinist, and several of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were accomplished musicians. In the Baptist church which we regularly attended, there was always inspirational singing by the choirs and the congregation. Whenever our family gathered for holidays, there was also much singing and music making!

I began piano lessons at six years old, studied and performed throughout high school, and then continued as a music and piano performance major in college. While still in high school, I also began studies in music theory and composition at the American Conservatory of Music in downtown Chicago. It was my great privilege to study privately there with the great Irwin Fischer, himself a student of Nadia Boulanger and Zoltan Kodaly. Although at this time I had no thought of composing Catholic sacred music, Mr. Fischer helped me to discover the greatness of Palestrina and all the Renaissance masters, through my classes with him in Modal Counterpoint. At this point the composing which I did was generally as homework; it wasn’t until many years later that the sense of a vocation to compose music for the Sacred Liturgy became clear.

Salve Regina

Is there a sacred music composer—or are there several composers—whose work you find most captivating, either as a source of delight, or as direct inspirations and models for your own work? 

It is true that as a source of musical delight, I continue to be captivated and transported by the sacred works of the great composers of our Art Music tradition: Bach, Vivaldi, Handel, Mozart, Haydn, etc., and their many brilliant successors up until the present. However, as I began to discover the Catholic Liturgy during my time living and working in Sweden (1983-1993), I realized that the great patrimony of Gregorian Chant and Byzantine Chant has a specific genius, distinct from (though related to) the glory of Art Music, for drawing us into the contemplative dimension of the Mass. Part of this genius is in its discreet, sacred character which while beautiful is always pointing away from itself to the Mystery.

In the West, from the Renaissance and onward, the culture became increasingly oriented toward the flourishing of human artistic capacities in secular venues. This new cultural movement was in itself a magnificent thing, strongly influenced by its Christian, Catholic roots, and capable of reflecting the glory of God. Nevertheless, the standard parameters of music composition made a significant shift away from their traditional orientation to the Liturgy, to a new orientation to the secular venues of the opera hall and concert stage. This secular cultural orientation has continued to our present day. Even though there have been many devout Christians and Catholics who have contributed their extraordinary talents to the service of the Liturgy, the standard formation for serious musicians – including these church musicians – has continued to be based upon the Art Music tradition. While such a formation is a good and praiseworthy thing, it is nevertheless distinct from a thoroughly liturgical formation.

By contrast, the great composers of Eastern Europe, while participating in the Art Music movement, tended to maintain a clearer distinction between sacred and secular composition. In this regard I find the liturgical works of Russian Orthodox composers such as Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Rachmaninoff to be particularly inspiring. Among the several brilliant Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic composers of our own day, I am particularly influenced by those who aim to maintain this “Little Way” of inspired simplicity. One of the greatest of these, in my view, is my friend Roman Hurko. He is a Ukrainian-Canadian composer living in New York; his Liturgy No. 3 (in English) is a magnificent example of the integration of artistry and spirituality in an authentically liturgical style.

But having said all of the above, my own musical identity is deeply rooted in the Roman Rite, and most especially in our patrimony of chant and polyphony. It has been both a duty and a delight for me to be immersed in both of these great forms, which provide an indispensable foundation for anyone who aspires to integrity in composing music for the Mass.

The Lord’s Prayer (from the Mass of St. Philip Neri)

If you were given an unlimited budget for musicians for a solemn pontifical Mass, what works would you put on the program? 

An unlimited budget would not necessarily be a good thing, just as winning the Lottery has often been highly problematic for many people! St. John Vianney’s holy extravagance towards all that was related to the church building and the Liturgy is a radiant model for us; however, this prodigality was in the spirit of the poor widow giving her mite. He gave everything he had out of his poverty, rather than from a surplus of resources. And I am convinced that a vitally important dimension of our work is in recovering the sense of holy littleness that characterizes Our Lady’s Magnificat.

Having said this, I have actually been very blessed, through the generous support of others, to prepare a number of Liturgies in which we have been able to pursue such an “ideal” program. These have always included a combination of Gregorian chant, classic polyphony, and new works which are able to “harmonize” deeply with this chant and polyphony. We have also been able to sing the entire Mass, with Priest, Deacon, Cantor, Choir, and Congregation fulfilling their respective parts of the Ordinary and Propers. In February 2019 we recorded one of these Masses – a Votive Mass of the Holy Spirit – which can be viewed and listened to here:

Or for a one-minute taste:

The language of sacred music, as of Catholic worship in general, remains a controversial subject. What are your thoughts about the place of Latin in the liturgy? 

Latin was and is the traditional liturgical language of our Roman Rite. As a healthy piety calls us to honor our liturgical patrimony, it also calls us to honor the language which is an integral dimension of this patrimony. Sadly, most Catholics have now been effectively cut off from this treasure, just as our Western culture has generally been cut off from its vital connection to its linguistic roots in Latin and Greek. This poses the question of how to move forward in a way that integrates piety, prudence, and charity.

In affirmation of the direction of Pope Benedict XVI in this regard, I would advocate an approach that facilitates a robust renewal of the study of Latin, and of its use in the Sacred Liturgy. And the resurgence of the TLM is a sign of such a renewal in those communities which have embraced this form. Beyond this, it seems evident that those who are charged with the formation of priests, deacons, and church musicians have a responsibility to provide them with a thorough immersion in our great Latin liturgical and sacred music traditions. And as they teach them how to do and sing them well, they also need to communicate the fire of love which is at the heart of these traditions.

Having said all this, it is also important to realize that Latin itself was once “secular” in relation to the Sacred Liturgy. It required a long period of holy adaptation, from its Aramaic and Greek precedents, so as to become the great liturgical language that it is. Furthermore, this same process of holy adaptation has taken place in many of the other Rites of the Catholic Church, producing other venerable sacred languages such as Coptic, Ge’ez, Armenian, and Church Slavonic.

The use of the vernacular in the Mass of Paul VI has often caused concern among those who would preserve the integrity of the Roman Liturgy, because of the extent to which it has been used as a tool of desacralization. On the other hand, the longstanding witness of the Eastern Catholic and Orthodox Churches indicates that it is possible – however long and difficult the task may be – to adapt and sanctify our vernacular languages for their holy liturgical use.

As a musician, I am grateful to have participated in both of the above dimensions of liturgical renewal: singing, conducting, and composing for the Latin liturgy, but also working within the vernacular (primarily English, but also Spanish, French, and Swedish) to develop a holy repertoire that is worthy of our great heritage.

Lamb of God (from the Mass of St. Philip Neri)

In recent years many have been pointing out the strong generational dynamics in the Catholic Church: older people seem to want the popular or secular styles of art, while (at least some, generally the more serious) younger people are intrigued by traditional forms that have an archaic feel to them. Would you agree or disagree with that assessment? 

I would phrase it a bit differently. From my own experience it does seem indeed that the “Vatican II generation,” those of us who are now in our 50’s and older, have often grown accustomed to the “new way” of celebrating the Mass, which has often been permeated by elements of desacralization, unsound teaching, and moral compromise. If this has been our steady liturgical diet, how could we avoid its having had a strong impact on our general approach to culture and art? Thankfully, there have been many notable exceptions to this generational tendency, who have faithfully pursued integrity in their approach to the Liturgy and culture.

Regarding younger people, we see a multitude who have abandoned the Faith altogether – and consequently, any sense of Christian culture – which in my mind is one of the most tragic, devastating effects of the disintegration of the Liturgy. For those who have returned or remained faithful, I do see a tremendous longing for integrity, for the robust pursuit of truth, goodness, and beauty. This holy longing, and this pursuit, is manifested in a variety of ways. Many young people are indeed attracted to more traditional forms of the Liturgy and Art; others are more naturally attracted by opportunities to deepen their philosophical, theological, biblical, and spiritual formation. While none of the above are mutually exclusive, in practice one does see how different personalities and temperaments tend to be drawn to different expressions of the same fundamental aspiration.

If you have experience with the “traditionalist” movement, what are some strengths and weaknesses you see in it, particularly from a musical point of view? 

The first great strength, as I see it, is the rediscovery and cultivation of our great liturgical and sacred music traditions. Secondly, for many people it has given a holy framework of Liturgy and life that has been a life-saver in the midst of a sea of irreverence, corruption, and secularization.

The weaknesses, in my opinion, are not inherent to these traditional forms, but rather the result of our human frailty – and as such they should be addressed and remedied as much as possible. I have observed at times a tendency toward formalism; by this I mean an emphasis on the external observance of the (necessary and holy) forms, without a corresponding emphasis on the spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic vitality of the faithful. In some notable cases, an apparent coldness and insularism among the traditionalist faithful has pushed away seekers who would otherwise be open to discovering the beauty of our sacred liturgical traditions.

Regarding the music of the TLM, I have witnessed some magnificent examples of integrity and artistry over the past ten years or so. However, I think we need a continued vigorous cultivation of both the artistic and spiritual dimensions of the music in the TLM. Without such efforts, the music can easily be “correct” but not particularly inspired or edifying. With such a movement, the singing can become more faithful to the Divine Love which is at its heart, and draw people more effectively to the Mystery which it is meant to serve.

What are you doing now in the realm of sacred music?

I am presently the director of the Magnificat Institute of Sacred Music, based in central Massachusetts, whose mission is to promote an authentic renewal of sacred music in the Roman Rite. This is a full-time job as well as a labor of love, for which I am profoundly grateful. My work consists in composing, conducting, recording, writing, teaching, consulting, and a variety of other related tasks.

What are some of your future plans as a composer? How can people get in touch with you?

Within the coming year I am planning, Deo volente, to publish and record several more of my completed compositions for the Liturgy. These include a Missa Parva (a setting of the Latin Ordinary), the Mass of St. Monica, various settings of Vespers and Compline, many settings of the Mass Propers, and music for numerous other sacred texts in both Latin and English.

Beyond all these, I am also well under way on a new Mass setting – Misa del Camino - that has been inspired by my son’s recent pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.  I hope to be able to share more details about this within the coming months. And as if all of this were not enough, I am always open to requests and commissions for new compositions.

I would ask all of your readers to pray for me, and for the work of our Magnificat Institute. I can be reached through either one of our websites, magnificatinstitute.org or pauljernberg.com. And thank you so much, Peter, for this opportunity to participate in the ongoing conversation on NLM!

To listen to more of Paul’s wonderful music, visit his SoundCloud page.

The other interviews in this series:
1. Nicholas Lemme
2. Mark Nowakowski
3. Tate Pumfrey
4. Ronan Reilly
5. Nicholas Wilton

Also pertinent:
Interview with Elam Rotem

Interviews with Catholic Composers — (5) Nicholas Wilton

Today I resume the series of interviews with Catholic composers, albeit this time in a different format. NLM is grateful to Louie Verrecchio for giving permission to republish a recent interview he did with British composer Nicholas Wilton. I am especially delighted to present this composer’s work, as he and I share a compact disc of choral music: “Divine Inspirations,” sung by Cantiones Sacrae of Scotland, featuring 13 pieces by Wilton and 13 by me. It can be purchased here.

Interviewer’s Introduction. Over the course of several days in December, I had the opportunity to interview a rather unique man by the name of Nicholas Wilton; a composer of sacred liturgical music, whose CD recordings I had recently obtained. As most of our readers are well aware, words alone cannot do justice to the beauty of good sacred music; it has to be heard, or better said, it must be experienced. Such is the case with Mr. Wilton’s work. It is truly magnificent. Upon hearing it, I recalled having read a statement made by Cardinal Ratzinger in his book, Spirit of the Liturgy (Ignatius Press, 2000), which I read several times in the years shortly after its publication. He said something to the effect that the generations following the promulgation of the Novus Ordo are the first in the history of the Church not to create their own sacred music. His point, which speaks to the emptiness of the protestantized rite, is well taken. It is, however, incorrect, and Nicholas Wilton is living proof. This is one of the reasons that I was genuinely excited about the prospects of interviewing Mr. Wilton for The Catholic Inquisitor and being able to invite readers to enjoy and support his work; after all we share the same purpose – the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

LV: Tell us a little about your personal history.

NW: I was born in 1959 in Hampstead, London. My mother was German and Catholic, and my father was English and not Catholic, although he converted to the Catholic Faith later on. My earliest musical memory was of my mother singing Mozart songs to me. Mozart’s music influenced me as a young child and I regard his influence on my music as a happy one as I regard Mozart to be the divine Child of Music.

LV: “The divine Child of Music.” I’ve never heard that expression. Can you explain it?

NW: The term is my own. I believe that Mozart was chosen by God Himself at the time to write music of exceptional grace and beauty. His gift or talent was from God, so the term “divine” is appropriate. No, I am not claiming that Mozart is God! Hence, “divine” rather than “Divine.” Of course, God also helped Mozart with the music he wrote. In other words, Mozart was, as J.R.R Tolkien termed it, a divinely inspired sub-creator. His melodies are very often child-like in their simplicity, so I term him the divine Child of Music who had also the very beautiful name, Amadeus.

LV: Tell us something of your early exposure to sacred music and how it affected you.

NW: My earliest exposure to sacred music was at the local Redemptorist church where a fair bit of plainsong was sung. I rather liked it and it seemed to be a very important part the Latin Mass as it then was - with bells and incense adding to the sense of the sacred. However, in the 1960s a lot of the Latin music simply vanished and was replaced by what one can only describe as pop music. “The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind” which we were made to sing struck me as odd because I had been taught that the Church had the answer already.

LV: What impact did the liturgical devastation of the 1960s have on your Catholic faith?

NW: Though I was just learning how to write piano music at the time and not yet composing sacred music, I stopped attending Mass in the 1970s when guitars and flutes were introduced to accompany what I recognized, even at that young age, as extremely banal music.

LV: Was it around this time that you began to write sacred choral music?

NW: No. I carried on learning the piano and trying to write well for the instrument. It was only later when I was studying for a music degree at London University that I was exposed to traditional Latin sacred choral music. I discovered Thomas Tallis at the age of eighteen and was fascinated by his forty-part motet Spem in Alium. Even though I was still writing mainly for the piano, I listened to it often at night in the dark to try to learn from it. It was around this time that I was told about the London Oratory. By then, years had passed since I had last been to Mass, but I decided to pay the Oratory a visit. I was impressed by the choir which regularly sang traditional music from the sixteenth century such as Byrd, Palestrina and Victoria, as well as many others. I started attending regularly and rather had the idea to write for the choir, having just completed a course in “chorestration”- or composing for choir - at the Guildhall School of Music.

LV: Just to be clear, the London Oratory, at least at that time, was celebrating the Novus Ordo in Latin. Is that Correct?

NW: Yes, that’s correct.

LV: Did you eventually write any pieces for the London Oratory?

NW: Yes. I composed a setting of In manus tuas, Domine in 1989 and showed it to the Director of Music, who liked the piece and agreed to perform it. The first performance was a success. This rather encouraged me to write more pieces for the choir including three Benediction pieces which were duly sung at Benediction as well as a setting of Cor meum for the feast of St Philip Neri.

LV: You say that the “performance was a success.” Would it be fair to say that words like “performance” and “success,” when used in reference to sacred liturgical music, necessarily refer to a work that gives glory to God and elevates to the soul to Him; a different meaning than when applied to secular or profane music?

NW: Yes. What I meant was that the piece was sung very beautifully and the choirmaster of the time, the late John Hoban, who gave the first performance at the London Oratory, congratulated me on the piece afterwards and said it was “very fine.” Secular music can also be performed or played well. Secular or profane music can also be well performed and assisted by God if one is His sub-creator. After all, He said “Without me you can do nothing.”

LV: Following your initial success in gaining performances of your early motets, did you find a publisher?

NW: No. I found that publishers were not interested in printing traditional Latin settings, so I decided that I would publish the music myself.

LV: Was this difficult to do?

NW: No. I managed to track down a music engraver who engraved music in the traditional way at that time. Then it was just a matter of having the music printed by a good music printer and, of course, paying for the production.

LV: What led you to begin composing for the traditional Mass?

NW: I discovered that a very old priest, Monsignor Gilbey, said a low Mass at the London Oratory on most mornings. The first time I attended this Mass, I felt that I had come home. I attended each day that I could for about three years, and made quite a few traditionally-minded friends. Shortly after this I started to conduct a small schola for the pre-1955 Mass at Corpus Christi, Maiden Lane, in London. There was a fair bit of plainsong that we had to sing, but I wanted to introduce more polyphony, so I composed some pieces for particular feasts; for example, Beata viscera Mariae for the feast of the Divine Maternity. As not all of the singers were very good, I quickly decided to write music that would be easy to learn quickly and could be sung well by an average Catholic choir. Often, there were no true tenors available, so I began writing tenor lines which would be possible for a baritone to sing. This ended up being a good idea as it allows my sacred choral music to be sung widely and not just by professional choirs.

Felix Namque (at 4'39")

LV: Having “come home,” as you say, did you continue to attend the Novus Ordo in Latin at the London Oratory?

NW: I did, but only for a bit. It wasn’t long before I decided to walk away from the new Mass and to attend the traditional Mass exclusively from then on.

LV: So, you continued to compose for the pre-1955 Mass at Corpus Christi in London?

NW: For a time, but at a certain point, the traditional Mass at Maiden Lane was suppressed, so I no longer had an opportunity to conduct a choir and write new pieces for it, but I continued accepting commissions and composing more motets.

LV: On your CD Sacred Choral Music, sung by Magnificat, there is a setting of Panis angelicus for high voice and organ which sounds rather operatic. Can you tell us how this piece came to be written?

NW: Across the road from me lived an opera singer, Julian Gavin. I was used to hear him singing vocal exercises and decided to do something a little different and wrote my Panis angelicus to suit his voice and wide range. The piece, about the Blessed Sacrament, is dedicated to the Martyrs of Devon and Cornwall of 1549. These martyrs rebelled against the Protestant service which was forced upon them at the time, but unfortunately they didn’t have good leadership and so very many Catholics were martyred including a priest who was hanged from a church steeple in his Mass vestments.

LV: Tell us a little about how your sacred choral CD came about.

NW: In the late 1990s at the Oratory I made a friend who offered to pay for a CD to be made of fourteen of my pieces. I rang up the director of the acclaimed English choir, Magnificat, who agreed to perform and record the pieces. My first thought was that it might help sheet music sales, but it turned out so well that I decided to release it in its own right by my publishing and record company, Philangelus. The recording was very well received and continues to sell well.

LV: If readers wish to buy a copy of your CD how can they best do this?

NW: There is an Australian company - Four Marks Music, which supports traditional, Catholic composers. The sell both my Sacred Choral Music CD as well as Music for Piano. Downloads of both CDs are also available for purchase for folks who prefer them. Their email address is fourmarksmusic@outlook.com and the web site is https://www.fourmarksmusic.com/.

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