Quia felix puericia
in laudabili Ruperto
ad Deum anhelavit et mundum reliquit,
ideo ipse in celesti armonia
fulget et ideo etiam
angelica turba
Filium Dei laudando concinit.
It was a happy childhood
for praiseworthy St. Rupert,
that yearned for God and left the world behind,
and so in heav’nly harmony
he gleams, and so
th’ angelic band
resounds to praise the Son of God.
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Note: The recording above pairs this antiphon with the Magnificat (the Gospel Canticle at Vespers).
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: E
Range: D below the final to E an octave above the final
Setting: syllabic and pneumatic
This is a short, straightforward antiphon in E mode. It is found only in the Riesencodex manuscript. The setting is not complicated, and it is one of the few songs in which Hildegard employs only the final and the fifth of the mode as grammatical devices. This means that she does not move the tonal center. Phrases are either outlined entirely by the final or the fifth (B), or they begin with one tone and end with the other.
Further Resources for Quia felix puericia
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 192-3 and 294-5.
Hildegard of Bingen, Two Hagiographies: Vita sancti Rupperti confessoris; Vita santi Dysibodi episcopi. ed. Christopher P. Evans, Intro. and trans. Hugh Feiss, O.S.B. (Dallas Medieval Texts no. 11; Peeters, 2010), pp. 84-85.
1a. O Ierusalem, aurea civitas
ornata regis purpura:
lb. O edificatio summe bonitatis,
que es lux numquam obscurata:
1c. Tu enim es ornata
in aurora et in calore solis.
2a. O beata puericia
que rutilas in aurora,
et o laudabilis adolescentia
que ardes in sole.
2b. Nam tu, o nobilis Ruperte,
in his sicut gemma fulsisti,
unde non potes abscondi stultis hominibus
sicut nec mons valli celatur.
3a. Fenestre tue, Ierusalem,
cum topazio et saphiro
specialiter sunt decorate.
3b. In quibus dum fulges, o Ruperte,
non potes abscondi
tepidis moribus, sicut nec mons valli coronatus
rosis, liliis et purpura
in vera ostensione.
4a. O tener flos campi
et o dulcis viriditas pomi
et o sarcina sine medulla,
que non flectit pectora in crimina.
4b. O vas nobile,
quod non est pollutum
nec devoratum
in saltatione antique spelunce,
et quod non est maceratum
in vulneribus antiqui perditoris:
5. In te symphonizat Spiritus sanctus,
quia angelicis choris associaris
et quoniam in Filio Dei ornaris,
cum nullam maculam habes.
6. Quod vas decorum tu es, o Ruperte,
qui in puericia
et in adolescentia tua
ad Deum anhelasti in timore Dei
et in amplexione caritatis
et in suavissimo odore bonorum operum.
7. O Ierusalem,
fundamentum tuum positum est
cum torrentibus lapidibus,
quod est cum publicanis et peccatoribus
qui perdite oves erant,
sed per Filium Dei invente, ad te
cucurrerunt et in te positi sunt.
8. Deinde muri tui
fulminant vivis lapidibus,
qui per summum studium bone voluntatis
quasi nubes in celo volaverunt.
9. Et ita turres tue,
o Ierusalem, rutilant
et candent per ruborem
et per candorem sanctorum
et per omnia ornamenta Dei,
que tibi non desunt, o Ierusalem.
10. Unde vos, o ornati
et o coronati
qui habitatis in Ierusalem,
et o tu Ruperte,
qui es socius eorum
in hac habitatione,
succurrite nobis famulantibus
et in exilio laborantibus.
1a. Jerusalem, O golden city,
in royal purple clad:
1b. O edifice of Good supreme,
you are a light that’s never dimmed:
1c. For you are decked
with dawn and sunshine’s warmth.
2a. O childhood blest
that shines at dawn,
O honored youth
that burns in the sun.
2b. For you, O noble Rupert,
have gleamed in these like a gem,
so that you can’t be hid by fools,
as a mount cannot be covered by a vale.
3a. Your windows, O Jerusalem,
with topaz and sapphire
especially are set.
3b. As you, O Rupert, glint in them,
you can’t be hid
by lukewarm ways—as not the mountain by the vale,
with roses, lilies, purple crowned
to show the truth.
4a. O tender flower of the field,
O apple’s sweet viridity,
O weight without pith
that does not sink the heart to sin.
4b. O noble vessel,
neither dirtied
nor devoured
by the ancient cavern’s dance,
nor weakend by
the ancient wrecker’s wounds:
5. In you the Holy Spirit symphonizes,
for you’re joined to the angels’ choirs
and spotless now, adorned
for the Son of God.
6. How beautiful your vessel, O Rupert!
In childhood
and in youth
you yearned for God with fear,
embracing divine Love
with good works’ sweetest scent.
7. O Jerusalem,
your foundation’s set
with a waterfall of stones—
that is, with publicans and sinners,
the sheep that once were lost
but now are found by the Son of God—to you
they’ve flocked and now in you are set.
8. And now your walls,
they flash with living stones
that flew with good will’s highest zeal
like clouds across the sky.
9. And so your towers,
O Jerusalem,
glint red with their blood,
gleam white with the shine of the saints
and all the ornaments of God—
they’re yours forever, O Jeruslaem.
10. So you, adorned
and crowned
who dwell within Jerusalem,
and you, O Rupert,
their comrade in
this dwelling place—
come to our aid
as we in exile labor and attend.
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: G
Range: D below the final to G an octave above
Setting: primarily syllabic
This lengthy sequence in honor of St. Rupert is set in the G mode, not a usual tonal center for Hildegard. Phrasing is open to interpretation in some cases, as Hildegard both adheres to the conventions of the sequence form and departs from them as well. In some instances, the verses open with similar melodic gestures, and in others, not so much. In some cases, the phrases end similarly, and this can serve as a guide as well. The intersection of the text and melody needs to be taken into account, but as neither the text or the melody is complicated, there can be more than one interpretation.
In the transcription there are several cases where the phrases are short, with a tick barline at the end of the second or third line. In these cases, both the shorter phrasing and the longer phrasing are acceptable options.
There is only a fragment of this work in Dendermonde, so the major part of the transcription is taken from Riesencodex.
Though we do not make editorial additions, such as ficta, there are several places where the melody moves from F to B and then ascends immediately to C. There are no signed flats, so one wonders if the intent is to sing or play the natural B. Performers will have to choose how to handle the tritone.
Further Resources for O Ierusalem
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 192-7 and 295-8.
Hildegard of Bingen, Two Hagiographies: Vita sancti Rupperti confessoris; Vita santi Dysibodi episcopi. ed. Christopher P. Evans, Intro. and trans. Hugh Feiss, O.S.B. (Dallas Medieval Texts no. 11; Peeters, 2010), pp. 20-25 and 78-83.
Madeline H. Caviness, “Artist: ‘To See, Hear, and Know All at Once,’” in Barbara Newman, ed., Voice of the Living Light: Hildegard of Bingen and Her World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 110–124, at 118-119.
Sabina Flanagan, Hildegard of Bingen, 1098-1179. A Visionary Life (2nd ed.; Routledge, 1998), pp. 121-5.
O beatissime Ruperte,
qui in flore etatis tue
non produxisti
nec portasti vicia diaboli,
unde
naufragum mundum reliquisti:
nunc intercede
pro famulantibus tibi
in Deo.
Alleluia.
O blessed Rupert!
In the flower of your youth
you neither sired
nor suffered the devil’s vices
as you
left behind this shipwrecked world:
Now intercede
for those who minister for you
in God.
Alleluia!
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: D
Range: A below the final to F an octave and a third above
Setting: Mixture of syllabic, neumatic and one long melisma (conclusion)
The phrasing in this antiphon is generally straightforward, with phrases outlined by the final of the mode. When phrases do not employ the final for opening and closing, they employ the secondary modal tone, A, which is typical for chant in general in this era.
Readers will note that we have placed a tick barline on page 1, line 3 of the transcription. Although this makes for a long phrase connecting lines 2-3 (“qui in flore etatis tue”), it maintains the melodic structure in which lines 2-3 are an elaboration of the same melody as line 1.. Similarly, a tick barline has been placed at the end of page 2, line 1, to show that “reliquisti” belongs with “naufragum mundum.”
Interestingly, the Alleluia at the end of the piece begins with the pitch F but concludes traditionally with the final.
Further Resources for O beatissime Ruperte
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 190 and 294.
O felix apparicio,
cum in amico Dei
Ruperto flamma vite
choruscavit,
ita quod
caritas Dei
in corde eius fluxit,
timorem Domini
amplectens.
Unde etiam
agnitio eius
in supernis civibus
floruit.
O happy gleam appearing—
in Rupert, friend of God,
the flame of life
has flashed
so that
God’s love
has flowed within his heart,
the Fear of the Lord
embracing.
So now
his true identity,
revealed among the citizens above,
has bloomed.
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: E
Range: B below the final to G an octave and a third above
Setting: Primarily syllabic with a lengthy melisma to conclude
In this antiphon to St. Rupert the Confessor, Hildegard employs a fairly standard method of demarcating phrases: primarily the final and the fifth (E and B). The opening (salutation) is outlined by the final. The next phrase begins with it and ends on B, as does the next. This gives a feeling of suspension rather than a conclusion.
In the second and third lines of the transcription, Ruperto is placed with flamma vite. It could, however, go with the previous line if one prefers. The next three phrases are short, the first two of which are punctuated by E, while the third creates a sense of incompleteness, ending on B. On page two of the transcription, I elected to begin lines 1 and 4 with the leap from B to E in the first case, and from E to B in the second. The conclusion is divided into phrases similarly to the previous material.
There are quite a few differences between Dendermonde and Riesenkodex. The ending on D in R should be disregarded and Dendermonde followed, as Hildegard always concludes on the modal final. Although the translation does not include a psalm cadence, we have marked this antiphon as a psalm antiphon because D includes the rubric for the cadence (EUOUAE) in the margin, but it is not neumed there and is completely missing in R.
Further Resources for O felix apparicio
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 190-91 and 293-94.
1a. O presul vere civitatis,
qui in templo angularis lapidis
ascendens in celum, in terra prostratus
fuisti propter Deum.
lb. Tu, peregrinus a semine mundi,
desiderasti exul fieri
propter amorem Christi.
2a. O mons clause mentis,
tu assidue pulcram faciem
aperuisti in speculo columbe.
2b. Tu in absconso latuisti,
inebriatus odore florum,
per cancellos sanctorum emicans Deo.
3a. O culmen in clavibus celi,
quod propter perspicuam vitam
mundum vendidisti:
hoc certamen, alme confessor,
semper habes in Domino.
3b. In tua enim mente
fons vivus clarissima luce
purissimos rivulos eduxit
per viam salutis.
4a. Tu magna turris
ante altare summi Dei, et huius turris
culmen obumbrasti
per fumum aromatum.
4b. O Disibode,
in tuo lumine per exempla puri soni
membra mirifice laudis edificasti
in duabus partibus
per Filium hominis.
5a. In alto stas, non erubescens
ante Deum vivum,
et protegis viridi rore
laudantes Deum ista voce.
5b. O dulcis vita et o beata
perseverantia que in hoc
beato Disibodo gloriosum lumen
semper edificasti in celesti Ierusalem.
6a. Nunc sit laus Deo in forma
pulcre tonsure
viriliter operante.
6b. Et superni cives gaudeant
de his qui eos
hoc modo imitantur.
1a. O prelate of the true City,
in the temple of the cornerstone
you mount up to heaven, on earth layed low
for God.
1b. A stranger to the worldly seed,
you yearned to be an exile
for the love of Christ.
2a. O mountain of the cloistered mind,
you patiently disclosed the beautiful face
in the mirror of the dove.
2b. You retired in the hidden nook,
entranced by the flowers’ perfume,
glittering for God through the lattice of the saints.
3a. O vault for the keys of heaven,
for the clear-eyed life
you sold off the world—
this contest, sweet confessor
you keep forever in the Lord.
3b. For in your mind
the living Fount with brightest light
brought forth the clearest streams
along salvation’s way.
4a. You are a mighty tower
before supreme God’s altar—your tower’s top
you’ve shrouded in
an aromatic cloud.
4b. O Disibod, within your light
and through your modelling of purest sound
you’ve built up limbs of wondrous praise
on either side
by the Son of Man.
5a. You stand on high and unashamed
before the living God:
with verdant moisture you protect
those praising God with such a voice.
5b. O life so sweet,
O blessed perseverance:
with blessed Disibod
you’ve ever built a glorious light in Jerusalem above.
6a. Now God be praised
in the tonsure’s beauty,
working manfully!
6b. And let the citizens above rejoice
for those who follow them
in this way.
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Commentary: Themes and Theology by Nathaniel M. Campbell
This sequence builds on the theological themes that Hildegard first articulated in the antiphon, O mirum admirandum, and the responsory, O viriditas digiti Dei, to imagine St. Disibod straddling the line between time (in which he was the historical founder of the Disibodenberg) and eternity (where he models sanctity for the monastic community from his place now in the heavenly Jerusalem). The first two strophe pairs focus on Disbod’s earthly life: he was “a stranger to the worldly seed” (1b) both as a monk vowed to chastity and as a bishop exiled from his see by political malcontents. After sojourning from Ireland, he settled as a hermit upon the mountain slopes of Disibodenberg—nestled among the aromatic herbs, his “hidden nook” left him open to mount to heaven in contemplation. The imagery of strophes 2a-2b, common to the antiphon and responsory, also draws on the Song of Songs, with the monk’s cell sharing it latticed window-panes with the Bride (Song of Songs 2:9), a dove nestled among the rocks (Song of Songs 2:14; the “mirror of the dove” is also an image for contemplation in Hildegard’s antiphon for St. John, O speculum columbe, and she alludes to it in her later responsory for St. Disibod, O felix anima). Strophes 3a-3b extend the imagery of Disibod’s hermitic contemplation, as the divine light suffuses his mind, flowing like the mountain streams that bring his monastic garden into bloom (cf. O viriditas digiti Dei).
Strophes 4a-4b then begin our transition from Disibod’s earthly monastic cell to his place in heaven, as his mountain home becomes a tower, its top enwreathed with swirls of incense and echoing with the chanted praises that formed the rhythm of his monastic life. As Barbara Newman notes (Symphonia, p. 293), the “two sides” (duabus partibus) allude to the two halves of the monastic choir, separated for singing in antiphony. The swirls of incense, moreover, are echoed in the intricacies of the musical parallelism in these two verse pairs. In the text above, I have broken up the lines to highlight the musical parallels between each verse: Tu magna turris (4a) is nearly same melody as O Disibode (4b), while ante altare summi Dei et huius turris (4a) is nearly the same melody as in tuo lumine per exempla puri soni (4b). The transcription, meanwhile, presents a different way of reading the musical grammar, with longer phrases framed by the final tone (C).
The remainder of the sequence then celebrates Disibod’s place standing on high (5a), his glittering mind shedding heavenly light from Jerusalem above (5b) to share with his monastic community below. That community, meanwhile, must strive to follow his example (per exempla puri soni, 4b; de his qui eos hoc modo imitantur, 6b), particularly through keeping up the monastic regimen of the Opus Dei, “the Work of God” of singing the liturgy of the hours each day. (See the commentary on O mirum admirandum for the role of Hildegard’s compositions for St. Disibod in admonishing reform of that monastic community.) Of particular note here is the intriguing grammatical ambiguity of strophe 6a: the final participle (operante) may be taken either in reference to God (Deo), indicating that God is at work in the beauty of the monastic tonsure (metonymy for the monastic life); or it may be taken in reference to the tonsure’s form (forma pulcre tonsure), indicating that God is praised through the manful work of the monastic life.
As with Hildegard’s equally showstopping sequence for St. Rupert, O Ierusalem, architectural metaphors dominate much of the piece. This may reflect Hildegard’s experience both with the near constant construction projects at the Disibodenberg as she was growing up (with the monastery church finally being completed and dedicated in the 1140s) and with rebuilding the ruins of the Rupertsberg as she moved her community there in the 1150s. As Barbara Newman has noted (Symphonia, p. 293), the theological background for the architectural imagery takes us back to 1 Peter 2, which is one of several New Testament passages that describe Christ as “the cornerstone” once rejected by the builders (1 Peter 2:7, citing Psalm 117[188]:22). From that the scriptural author articulates the idea of Christians “as living stones built up, a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5). In Hildegard’s hands, the living stones of Disibod’s celestial tower are the monks of his monastery, joining their songs of praise with his verdant voice in heaven.
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: C
Range: E below the final to C an octave above
Setting: Primarily syllabic
This sequence for St. Disibod, the patron saint of the monastery at Disibodenberg where Hildegard began her religious life, consists of six, two-part verses. There is a difference in the verse order in the sources. In Dendermonde, after Verse 4a, it appears as though the scribe begins Verse 4b, with part of the setting of the words, O Disibode. What follows next is a different order than what appears in Riesenkodex: 5a, 5b, 6a, 6b, 4b. The order in R is correct, and therefore, the transcription follows it.
The use of typical modal tones to demarcate phrases is not consistent in this song. All verses, except 2a and 2b, begin with C, the modal final. Typically, Hildegard also employs the final or the fifth to punctuate and hence identify phrases. Here, however, phrases open and close with alternative pitches. In verses 1a and 1b, for example, the sections open with C and then shift to A as the primary grammatical marker. As the sequence progresses, we see other tones, such as D and G, assuming the role of phrase punctuation. As always, determining phrasing in Hildegard’s works involves a negotiation between text and melody, and in this transcription, the melody sometimes gives way to text sense in phrasing.
In the sequence form, whose conventions Hildegard often does not strictly adhere to, the melodic lines (especially the first line) between and the a and b sections of each versicle are intended to match. In the transcription, we attempt generally to phrase in accordance with this protocol. However, there are exceptions. The length of the paired versicles is not always the same. In the first verse, the a section is longer. The salutation, O presul vere civitatis, should not be broken, and so the first line of the b section has been similarly phrased. There are parallel melodic segments that begin on E (1a: vere civitatis and 1b: a semine mundi), but to try to match all of that would involve making phrases too short and ‘choppy’ in many cases. Therefore, again referring to the example of Verse 1, the second phrase begins on A, the third on the E fragment, and then the last on the A melody. The reader will note that the basic melody is sometimes ornamented or elaborated. Therefore, the matching is not exact.
While we generally prioritize melody over text, in some cases doing so would have been too much of a disruption of the text. Because Hildegard was not always “metronomically” consistent in her construction of melody, text, and the melody/text alignment, phrasing is often negotiable. Performers using this score, as always, are welcome to make their own adjustments.
Hildegard’s C pieces (as well as her A pieces) are often considered to be transpositions, and this results in the appearance of Bb. As we have mentioned in our Commentary and Notes to other Symphonia songs, Hildegard’s treatment of the Bb is somewhat idiosyncratic. There are differences between the sources, and the signed flat often appears after iterations of B with no flat. Performers in that era knew when flats should be added, such as to prevent a tritone, and so they were not noted in some cases. In our transcriptions, though we do not add editorial ficta, performers should note that in the descents from F to B, a flat should be added. Flats might also be added for repeated gestures in which the Bb is signed. That said, there is often a question as to how long the flat should be retained. Keeping it to the end of the line (as in a transcription) is not a viable solution, as the manuscript sources do not identify phrases - the notes continue in a stream across the parchment folio. Finally, Hildegard’s Symphonia pieces never employ Bb in the upper register, so the B a seventh above the final will always be natural.
Further Resources for O presul vere civitatis
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 186-189 and 292-293.
Leigh-Choate, Tova; Flynn, William T.; and Fassler, Margot E. “Hildegard as Musical Hagiographer: Engelberg, Stiftsbibliothek MS. 103 and Her Songs for Saints Disibod and Ursula.” In A Companion to Hildegard of Bingen. Ed. Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al. (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2014), pp. 193-220.
R. O felix anima
cuius corpus
de terra
ortum est, quod tu
cum peregrinatione
huius mundi conculcasti:
R. Unde de divina racionalitate,
que te speculum suum fecit,
coronata es.
V. Spiritus sanctus etiam te
ut habitaculum suum
intuebatur.
R. Unde de divina racionalitate,
que te speculum suum fecit,
coronata es.
Gloria Patri et Filio
et Spiritui sancto.
R. O happy soul,
whose body
from the earth
has sprung
and with this worldly pilgrimage
you’ve trod it down:
R. So with rationality divine—
which made you as its mirror—
you have been crowned.
V. The Holy Spirit, too,
has looked to you
to be its habitation.
R. So with rationality divine—
which made you as its mirror—
you have been crowned.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son
and to the Holy Spirit.
Latin collated from the transcription of Beverly Lomer and the edition of Barbara Newman; translation by Nathaniel M. Campbell.
Commentary: Themes and Theology by Nathaniel M. Campbell
This responsory is one of two pieces for St. Disibod (the other is the antiphon, O beata infantia) that Hildegard likely composed later in her life, to round out her initial set of three compositions for the founder of the Disibodenberg. They do not appear in the earliest record of those three compositions, Hildegard’s letter of the early 1150’s (nr. 74r) to Kuno, the abbot of Disibodenberg (for more on that letter, see the commentary for O mirum admirandum); nor do they appear in the earlier Dendermonde manuscript of Hildegard’s music. It is thus likely that they date sometime after 1170, reflecting Hildegard’s renewed interest in the cult of St. Disibod, inspired by her composition of his saintly vita (for more on that text, see here). Indeed, both compositions crystallize elements found in Hildegard’s Life of St. Disibod, serving as musical syntheses of the prose text’s themes.
The first part of the responsory focuses on St. Disibod’s ascetic discipline of the flesh during his “worldly pilgrimage.” The concept of the blessed soul on pilgrimage in this world is, of course, an ancient image most famously articulated by St. Augustine of Hippo in The City of God. With St. Disibod, however, the metaphor is also a literal part of his life story: after his strict discipline as a bishop in his native Ireland proved too controversial for the people of his see, he was driven out, “and so, with a happy mind [leto animo] and for the sake of eternal life, he undertook the pilgrimage [peregrinationem] he had long desired” (Vita s. Dysibodi episcopi, ch. 12).[1]
The repetendum (refrain), meanwhile, moves into Disibod’s interior life with the key image of the mirror of divine rationality. This reflects Hildegard’s anthropological preoccupations in her later years, found in both her last work, the Liber divinorum operum, and in briefer form even in the Life of St. Disibod itself. After narrating the events of Disibod’s death near the end of the vita, she launches into an extended discussion of human rationality and its operation through the knowledge of good and evil (scientia boni et mali)—the hallmark of the human person made in the image and likeness of God (Vita s. Dysibodi episcopi, ch. 38). This “complete knowledge” (plena scientia) distinguishes humans from the rest of creation and enables them to act as God acts and as God made them to act (quoniam Deus eum, ut secundum ipsum operaretur, creauit). The human conscience (scientia), therefore, becomes the mirror in which we discern with a God-given rationality what it is we ought and ought not to do. The sinful person can be overwhelmed by the sensations of his flesh and give in to them; but as Hildegard continues:
[The] blessed person desires to do what he does not taste in the flesh, and he asks for help from the Holy Spirit in order to gaze upon the mirror of holiness [in speculum sanctitatis]. Just as a person ponders his face in a mirror, in which it really is not, and, as far as he can, changes what he sees there that is unworthy, so a blessed man through faith desires to do good deeds to the consternation of the devil and against his flesh. Because he does not do what the flesh presents to him and so through hard and strenuous battles conquers himself with his desires, he will possess the brightness that the fallen angels had. (...) As the good angels look upon the face of the Father with praise, so blessed men doing good deeds in the mirror of faith [in speculo fidei] gaze upon the face of God in faith and always stand with him through the hardest struggles. For God so constituted creatures that through them human beings bring their works to completion.
—Vita s. Dysibodi episcopi, ch. 41
In this responsory, Disibod’s ascetic discipline of the body sets the conditions for his contemplative crowning as a mirror of the divine. Based on the text alone, we would be tempted to see a stark dualism here, with Hildegard denigrating the flesh in favor of the happy soul. But the music tells a different story. The composition reaches the octave e above the final only once, in the second line on the word corpus (“body”), before launching into its first long melisma in the third line on terra (“earth”). The soul (anima) and the body’s origin from the earth (terra) are also bound together by the shared final cadence of lines 1 and 3 (F-G-A-A-G-F-G-F-E), which appears again in a modified version in line 7 on rationalitate (“rationality”) and in its original form in line 8 on fecit (“made”). Rather than denigrating the body, Hildegard here recognizes its importance as the vessel for the soul’s exercise of rationality.
St. Disibod’s mirror, finally, is a mirror of contemplation, and this aligns him with another of Hildegard’s favorite saintly role-models, St. John the Evangelist. Her antiphon for St. John, O speculum columbe, extols him as “the mirror of the dove,” a phrase that appears again in verse 2a of O presul vere civitatis, Hildegard’s sequence for St. Disibod. The dove connects to the Holy Spirit’s habitation in the verse of the responsory above, emphasizing that the itinerant Irish bishop settled into contemplation of the divine in his hermitage on the slopes of the Disibodenberg. Additional parallels between Disibod and St. John can be found in the ordering of the Dendermonde manuscript, where Hildegard’s three original pieces for Disibod are placed alongside her compositions for St. John;[2] when the two later pieces were added to the set in the Riesencodex, the whole repertoire was also moved into a different section of the chant collection, devoted to bishops and confessors. Despite the different orderings of the two manuscripts, the thematic connections between St. Disibod and St. John remain.
Transcription and Music Notes by Beverly Lomer
Mode: E
Range: C below the final to E an octave above
Setting: Syllabic, neumatic, melismatic
In this responsory, the setting is primarily neumatic and melismatic. Longer melismas occur on important words/phrases, such as de terra (“from the earth”) and intuebatur (“[the Holy Spirit] has looked”). This song displays quite a lot of repetition of melodic motives and compound neumes. Many of the phrases open with similar gestures.
The phrasing punctuation is fairly straightforward. Most phrases begin and end with either the final of the mode (E) or the secondary pitch, B (the fifth above the final). Hildegard moves to D on Unde, which begins the repetendum. This change sets it a bit apart.
Lines 4 and 5 of the transcription separate ortum est quod tu and cum peregrinatione, but they might also be considered as one long phrase with a breath, perhaps, at the end of line 4. We separated the phrases because cum begins with the same melodic fragment as appears in Line 2, and Hildegard typically (but not always) uses motivic repetition to signal the start of a new phrase. In this case, we have created a short followed by a long phrase, which might not be ideal, so performers might adjust either as one long phrase or to keep cum on line 4.
The last two lines of the piece are one phrase, but they are separated to avoid crowding the line. A tick barline has been inserted to indicate this.
Further Resources for O felix anima
Hildegard of Bingen, Symphonia, ed. Barbara Newman (Cornell Univ. Press, 1988 / 1998), pp. 184 and 292.
[1] All quotes from this text have been adapted from Hildegard of Bingen, Two Hagiographies: Vita sancti Ruppert confessoris; Vita sancti Dysibodi episcope, ed. Christopher P. Evans, trans. Hugh Feiss (Dallas Medieval Texts and Translations, 11; Paris, Leuven, Walpole, MA: Peeters, 2010). ↩ [2] Tova Leigh-Choate, William T. Flynn, and Margot E. Fassler, “Hildegard as Musical Hagiographer: Engelberg, Stiftsbibliothek MS. 103 and Her Songs for Saints Disibod and Ursula,” in A Companion to Hildegard of Bingen, ed. Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al. (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2014), pp. 193-220, esp. p. 202 and 207-208. ↩
This is Hildegard’s only musical composition for the Ordinary of the Mass (i.e. the texts that are traditionally sung as part of each celebration of the Mass: the Kyrie, the Gloria, the Sanctus and Benedictus, and the Agnus Dei). As such, it is her only musical composition for which she did not also write the words. The text is the only part of the Ordinary of the Latin Mass which is preserved in Greek, with each of the three lines sung three times before moving to the next line:
Kyrie eleison
Christe eleison
Kyrie eleison
Lord, have mercy (x3)
Christ, have mercy (x3)
Lord, have mercy (x3)
As Honey Meconi has explained,[1] Hildegard has followed a common practice of her time in composing variations for the final three repetitions of the Kyrie eleison. In the transcription, the first version of Kyrie eleison was to be used for the first three repetitions of that text, followed by three repetitions of the setting of Christe eleison. The second appearance of Kyrie eleison, which introduces a new melody for Kyrie and a revised melody for eleison (lines 3-4 in the transcription), was to be used for the next two repetitions of the Kyrie eleison. Finally, the third appearance of the Kyrie eleison (lines 5-6 in the transcription), which provides a modified ending, would close out the recitation.
This composition is in the unusual F mode, and it is also quite interesting that this mode generally requires a Bb to avoid the tritone with F. There is one notated flat, on line 4 of the transcription on the progression that begins on G and resolves to F. While the singers would know to add Bb when the interval B to F appears, the addition of the accidental is unusual. Speculatively, it was perhaps to avoid confusion, as the figure begins on G, rises to B and then descends to F. All other instances where the B to F occur are ‘stand alone’ configurations. (For Dom Joseph Pothier’s views on the tritone, see further below.)
It is also possible that the notation is intended to remind or mirror the opening figure in the responsory, O lucidissima apostolorum turba, whose first few melodic lines are shared by the Kyrie (i.e. the two compositions are contrafacts): lines 1-4 of our transcription of the Kyrie (the first Kyrie, the Christe, and the second Kyrie) correspond to lines 1-5 of our transcription of O lucidissima (O lucidissima…agnitione), while the next line in the responsory (aperiens) corresponds to elements in the final elaboration of eleison. O lucidissima ends in G mode, and it includes quite a few Bb’s, including a flat on the opening gesture that is similar to the Kyrie (the only difference is that the responsory opens on G rather than F).
Scholarship is divided over which composition came first. The responsory must certainly be one of Hildegard’s earlier works, because it belongs to the song cycle included in the last vision of Scivias. Because the Kyrie does not appear in the earlier Dendermonde manuscript but only in the later Riesencodex collection, some have suggested that it was a later composition (and that the Vienna manuscript must also postdate Dendermonde).[2] Under this hypothesis, it may even have been designed specifically as a bridge between the two sections into which the Riesencodex divides Hildegard’s music—the first section contains all of the pieces that would have been used during the Liturgy of the Hours (i.e. antiphons and responsories), while the second section contains the longer pieces (hymns, sequences, and symphoniae), most of which would or could have been used in the Mass. The Kyrie is used in both the Liturgy of the Hours and the Mass.
Alternatively, Honey Meconi has proposed that the Kyrie may in fact have been Hildegard’s first attempt at public musical composition. Under this hypothesis, the traditional parameters imposed by the genre would have been an appropriate scaffold for the first-time composer, “testing the waters before embarking on complexities such as those of the early Scivias songs” (Meconi, p. 106). Meconi also notes that this is the only piece that Hildegard composed with F as a final.
Pothier (1898), “Kyrie de Sainte Hildegarde” (From Bain, Fig. 5.4)
Finally, Hildegard’s Kyrie played an important role in the revival of her work at the turn from the nineteenth to the twentieth centuries, as documented by Jennifer Bain.[3] In 1878, two monks, Dom Joseph Pothier and his brother Dom Alphonse, travelled from the Abbey of Solesmes to the Wiesbaden state library, in order to transcribe and study Hildegard’s works. Dom Joseph Pothier was one of the influential fathers of the chant revival movement centered at Solesmes, and his publications of Hildegard’s music two decades later helped to propel her music to wider acclaim in church music circles. One of the most influential of Pothier’s 1898 publications was an edition and discussion of the Kyrie, whose liturgical versatility, Bain notes, “seems to be part of its subsequent appeal” (Bain, p. 183). As can be seen from the image of this edition (at right), Dom Pothier added editorial Bb’s to avoid the tritone. Nevertheless, as Bain notes, Pothier also “argues against a regular fixing of B naturals” (Bain, p. 186):
It is not that it is necessary, in general, to have to regard the tritone with fear … In many circumstances where our editions of plainchant mark the flat to avoid that which somebody thoughtlessly named the diabolus in musica [“devil in music”], the B must remain natural, as it was many times in the notation and in usage.
(Pothier, “Kyrie de Sainte Hildegarde” [1898], as cited and trans. in Bain, p. 187)
It is also worth noting that the manuscript text appears to entirely drop the initial syllable “e-” from “e-leyson.” Some recordings and editions of this piece even adopt the text as a single line: “Kyrieleyson.” It is possible that in Hildegard’s usage, “eleison” was sung simply as two syllables, “ley-son” (our transcription follows this as the least invasive editorial interpretation of the manuscript). It should be noted that other editions add the initial “e-” back in, as in Dom Pothier’s edition included above.
Editorial note by Beverly Lomer: In this transcription, I made some changes to the way two neumes are transcribed. I have added a dotted slur to the climacus and a full slur (over the three notes) of the pressus with punctum. This is part of a review process aimed at ultimately creating selected performance scores.
Further Resources for O eterne Deus
Bain, Jennifer. Hildegard of Bingen and Musical Reception. The Modern Revival of a Medieval Composer. Cambridge University Press, 2015, at pp. 179-187.
Meconi, Honey. Hildegard of Bingen. Women Composer Series. University of Illinois Press, 2018, at pp. 105-107.
Pothier, Dom Joseph. “Kyrie de Sainte Hildegarde.” Revue du chant grégorien 7/3 (1898): 65-68.
[1] Honey Meconi, Hildegard of Bingen (University of Illinois Press, 2018), p. 105. ↩ [2] So Tova Leigh-Choate, William T. Flynn, and Margot E. Fassler, “Hearing the Heavenly Symphony: An Overview of Hildegard's Muscial Oeuvre with Case Studies,” in A Companion to Hildegard of Bingen, ed. Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Debra L. Stoudt, & George Ferzoco (Brill, 2014), pp. 163-192, at p. 173. ↩ [3] Jennifer Bain, Hildegard of Bingen and Musical Reception. The Modern Revival of a Medieval Composer (Cambridge University Press, 2015), pp. 179-187. ↩
