Dona Nobis Pacem

• Official Solomeo Instagram reel highlighting the premiere: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DacJS1Yonez/

PROGRAM NOTES (may be copied and printed freely in programs, papers, reviews, etc):

Dona Nobis Pacem – Official Program Notes

I’ve long admired Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Dona Nobis Pacem, which he wrote in response to the turbulence of the 1930s. Almost a century later, our world is still plagued by wars, strife, and oppression. I found myself longing to provide a more current musical work that would give voice to a variety of emotional responses and guide us toward comfort and peace. My Dona Nobis Pacem, then, provides current musical expressions for centuries-old texts, all common expressions of our human struggles and hopes from one generation to the next. 

The opening Introit, Il Lamento, is instrumental, providing a point of entrance for this emotional journey where words have failed. Eventually the choir enters, one part at a time, reflecting how small our individual voices feel in an overwhelming world. The deeply plaintive lament, O Vos Omnes, asks if our sorrow is seen or heard, pleading “is it nothing to you?” It increasingly implores God not to remain silent… only to be met with dramatic silence. The movement eventually settles to a quiet prayer of the traditional Agnus Dei text, finishing this movement with the words of the overall work’s title.

II. Vox Sanguinis then begins without pause, unleashing righteous anger as the “voice of innocent blood of your brother cries out.” The movement uses harmonic dissonance, snarling gestures, intense timbres, and extended instrumental techniques to paint its texts. Harsh polychords combine simultaneous major and minor triads to portray the bold imprecatory text “woe to them that call evil good and good evil; rise up, Lord, confront them, bring them down.”

III. Lacrimosa emerges from the boiling-over of the previous movement, portraying tears softly falling into a pool of water. Celesta and vibraphone create ever-expanding circular ripples, pictured in melodic lines that gradually ascend and descend in response to each other. Our first moment of hope occurs in the middle section of this movement as modal harmonies set the Psalm text “weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”

IV. Pie Jesu emerges without pause from these tears with a tenor solo singing Christ’s words at the moment of his betrayal, telling Peter to put away his sword instead of fighting for power. A soloist (preferably a child) then sings the Pie Jesu text, portraying the power of innocence and humility instead of striving for domination. In a moment of striking irony, the whole work turns a corner toward peace when we pray for mercy not only for ourselves, but for “the guilty one.” This movement finishes with an ethereal instrumental section as a vision of peace finally starts to emerge.

V. Beati is a mystical setting of the Beatitudes from the Gospels, inspired by my travels to the Church of the Beatitudes near the Sea of Galilee. The musical language evokes another world as we hear and receive Christ’s vision of what is truly good, right, and beautiful, and who will receive his blessing — finishing with “blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”

VI. Tua Pace shifts our focus from “otherworldly” to “here in our own world” as we consider what it looks like to be a peacemaker. The words attributed to St. Francis of Assisi are sung in Italian since the work is being premiered near Assisi for an Italian audience and so that the feeling of “our own world” speaks as clearly as possible. The melody evokes Italian melodic traditions, and an ocarina plays “birdcalls” throughout the movement, picturing St. Francis’s love of nature and the legend of his preaching to the birds. 

VII. In Terra Pax then provides a celebratory vision of a world where fighting has ended and the Beati and Tua Pace have become reality. Its ancient text from Micah 2 has been quoted throughout history and throughout the world, ranging from George Washington’s 18th century letter to Jewish immigrants in the newly founded United States to its poignant 20th century posting in the bombed-out ruins of Coventry Cathedral in England. The music transforms aggressive motives of war from movement two into joyous celebration, portraying the text’s imagery of weapons being converted into tools of prosperity, nations putting down their weapons, and people living in freedom and safety without fear. A soloist then sings words from Mary’s Magnificat: “he has put down the mighty…he has sent the rich away empty…he has exalted the humble and meek” and the angels’ words to the shepherds from the Gospels: “on earth, peace.”

The final movement, VIII. Dona Nobis Pacem, finally brings us to the main text of the work, praying for peace in a melody that begins simply, then grows to a soaring anthem before settling into calm peace.

-Dan Forrest