On March 15, 2025, National Philharmonic joins The Washington Chorus in a performance of Leonard Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms, featuring countertenor Reginald Mobley. Drawing its text from the Book of Psalms, Bernstein’s piece would appear to follow in the trajectory of those by other twentieth-century composers, such as [link to Zeck notes 2024] Lili Boulanger’s Psalm 24 “La Terre Appartient à L’éternel,” which was performed by this ensemble pair in the May 2024 concert at The Music Center at Strathmore.   Separated by a half century—with Boulanger’s Psalm 24 published in 1916 and Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms having been premiered in 1965—these two works illustrate a range of compositional ingenuity and offer audiences the opportunity to compare, contrast, and luxuriate in the sonorous manifestations of the Book of Psalms.

Leonard Bernstein

Leonard Bernstein (1918 – 1990) was born to Jewish émegrés from the Russian Empire who had settled in Massachusetts. Bernstein’s flair for music and theatre was evident at a young age, becoming an accomplished pianist as a teenager. He delved into composition seriously while studying at Harvard University and broadened his training further to include conducting at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia. Thereafter, Bernstein relocated to New York City where, despite the ongoing challenges experienced by musicians during WWII, he would quickly establish himself among the highest echelon of musicians.

Bernstein enjoyed a prolific career as a composer and conductor, ultimately becoming a household name, thanks to the advent of television. His initial appointment in 1943 as assistant conductor of the New York Philharmonic predated this new technology. But in 1958, by which time he was the orchestra’s principal music director, he leveraged the novelty and revolutionized the concept of audience engagement by launching a televised series on CBS, the Young People’s Concerts.  For the next fifteen years, he generated an enthusiastic following among listeners in far-flung locales by supplementing New York Philharmonic performances with informative and engaging commentary, which served to contextualize what the audiences were hearing *and seeing.* Indeed, by harnessing the power of both sound and sight, and Bernstein transformed each episode into the ultimate educational experience.

As you listen to Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms, note the omission of woodwinds in favor of a brass ensemble (3 trumpets, 3 trombones), timpani, percussion, 2 harps and strings, and recall that Boulanger’s setting of Psalm 24 showcased a similar instrumentation of a brass ensemble (4 horns, 3 trumpets, 4 trombones, 1 tuba), timpani, 2 harps, and organ. Although both pieces include a chorus, only Bernstein’s employs a soloist—in this case, a countertenor.

You are in for a real treat if this is your first time hearing a countertenor perform. Countertenors share the vocal range of a female contralto or mezzo-soprano (whose range is lower than that of soprano), achieving said range by carefully controlling his vocal chords and their production.  Contemporary countertenors are often tasked with filling the roles originally assigned to castrati in compositions of the Baroque and early Classical eras. Castrati were male singers whose bodies had been physically altered during childhood to prevent the lowering of their voices at puberty. This practice, known in English as castration, was banned in 1903. In Chichester Psalms, the role (by implication, a shepherd boy “David”) is among several in the twentieth-century opera and oratorio repertoire that was created intentionally for a countertenor or boy treble (i.e., a pre-pubescent male).

With its unique instrumentation, Chichester Psalms contains three movments prefaced by an introduction. Unlike in the work of Boulanger, whose singers rendered Psalm 24 in French, Bernstein, whose family was Jewish, employed the Hebrew language throughout the work.

In anticipation of the Chichester Cathedral’s 1965 Festival, the Very Rev. Walter Hussey (Dean of Chichester Cathedral) commissioned this piece from Bernstein.  The cathedral, for which construction commenced in 1075, is located near the English Channel in Sussex (in the southeastern part of England) and is among the most prominent Anglican churches in the country. 

The text of Chichester Psalms is drawn from six of 150 psalms in the Book of Psalms (Hebrew: Tehillīm) of the Old Testament and the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible).

The Introduction features Psalm 108, which proclaims the awakening of the psaltery (an ancient stringed instrument) and harp. Here, you’ll sense the full weight of the instrumental ensemble, with prominent strikes of the timpani punctuating the chorus’s words [English: I will rouse the dawn!]

This majestic writing immediately gives way, as Movement 1 embodies an entirely different soundscape. Characterized by a noticeable shift in meter (7/4 time), the resultant division of pulses (2+2+3) lends the movement a jaunty air reminiscent of excerpts from Bernstein’s Overture to Candide and West Side Story. The corresponding text in Movement 1 is from Psalm 100, which begins, as translated, with  “Make a Joyful Noise unto the Lord, all ye Lands.” The meter and rhythm here undoubtedly accentuate the concept of “joyful noise,” even as the full ensemble retreats as the movement unfolds.

Pay careful attention to the ways in which Bernstein retains the character of the movement, while changing its sound through a reconfiguation of instrumentation. As the brass and lower strings drop out, you will hear pizzicato (plucking of strings, here: violin and viola), the pair of harps, and the crystal clear tinkle of the glockenspiel.  The texture becomes very light, almost whispy, but the entry of the xylophone signals another change, with solo vocalist lines (from the chorus) and a brief, but resounding, full ensemble flourish at the end.

Movement 2 opens with the countertenor solo, who sings Psalm 23 (the Psalm of David) in its entirety. Gone are all of the bowed strings and brass. Only the pair of harps remain, providing the foundation over which the soloist soars. You’ll note that the countertenor’s line incorporates a tiny bit of chromaticism for color.  Even with the eventual addition of the strings, the texture begins to thicken slightly but without overpowering the countertenor. The second part of this movement offers a sudden and dramatic musical shift to accentuate the themes of conspiracy and rage evidenced in the first four verses of Psalm 2. The percussive but hushed delivery of text about people alternates with bombastic chords, which accompany the text about kings and rulers. As you listen, consider Bernstein’s ability to convey sonically what the words convey conceptually.  Throughout this part of the movement, try to glance at the percussionists at the back of the orchestra. How many different timbres are you able to discern?  But you’ll need to act fast, because the countertenor returns tranquilly to bring the entire movement to a close.

Movement 3 opens with a lengthy instrumental segment, and like Movement 1, it is written with nontraditional meters: 9/4, 6/4, and 10/4. This segment exhibits yet another side of Bernstein’s style, with sweeping strokes in the strings and a heavier dose of chromaticism. In the score, the appearance of of Psalm 131 is marked as “peacefully flowing,” which aptly describes the relationship between the chorus and orchestra at this point in the piece. Moreover, this musical setting conveys the text’s themes of humility, and the string and harp interlude maintains the sense of calm. The chorus returns melismatically on the syllable “Ah!”—that is, with a lengthy series of notes transitioning from one to the next without changing the text. Soloists echo the chorus’s statement [English: “Let Israel hope in the Lord from henceforth and forever”], and following the soloists’ final utterance, listeners are guided seamlessly to Psalm 133 and an a capella chorus (that is, without instrumental accompaniment). As the text of the psalm emphasizes unity, we hear vocal parts achieve unison (all on the same note) and render a singular “Amen,” thereby drawing the piece to a close.