Luceat Eis

In 2009, music lover and Cantus fan Greg Harris contacted me about a special project. He lost a dear family friend in the September 11 tragedy, and he wanted to commission a piece in her memory for the male vocal ensemble Cantus to premiere. Mary Yolanda Dowling was a singer her whole life. On September 11, 2001, she visited a previous employer in the South Tower. According to eyewitnesses Yolanda helped many people find the exit staircase that day, but never made it out herself.

As Greg and I talked about possible texts to set, he suggested the “In Paradisum” and “Libera Me” texts. “Libera Me” felt like such an apt reaction to an environment of fire, smoke, falling debris and shifting gravity. And the “In Paradisum” text provided such a great contrast to that with the line “may angels lead you into paradise, and may you have eternal rest.” The two together struck me as two halves of the same piece, but I wanted to find another text that would hold everything together and provide a sense of direction and hope. So I added the text from “Lux Aeterna,” echoing the sense of eternal rest, and adding the idea that after all the turmoil and the path into paradise, there’s an unchanging light that will always shine.

Thus the piece is split in two. The lower voices open the piece in C sharp minor, singing the texts of the “Libera Me” in a repeating melody that is stacked until it reaches its full three-part texture. The tenor voices join singing of perpetual light on a repeated C sharp, providing a tonal ceiling, keeping the lower voices down in their earthly, fiery world. The tenor voices add, slowly drawing our attention as the lower voice finish their text. The focus of the next section is the “In Paradisum” text. As the tenors take the main theme and are supported now by the lower voices, we move into C sharp major and all voices end in homophony together: the choirs of angels leading you into paradise.

One final request from Greg before I began work was to include the English text from John 15 “No man hath greater love than this, to lay down his life for his friends.” Greg wanted to respect Yolanda’s heroics during her last day on earth. Including a short English line in a Latin piece was going to be tricky. I set it during the high point of the piece, and it sits just above the texture, a subtle declaration of considerable human love.

There’s one other aspect to the piece that was a late addition. I wanted the listener to hear glimpses of hope, glimpses of light peeking through the darker texture in the beginning. I added little grace notes to the vocal melodies – little spots of eternal light sparking through the texture.

– Timothy C. Takach