1610 Vespers: Monteverdi

I’m not a big believer in the kind of angels that make 11th-hour rescues on TV programs, or of the feathery-winged creatures that sit on the top of the Christmas tree. However, there can be no other explanation for Monteverdi’s 1610 Vespers than this: the angels, taking pity on poor underpaid, frazzled, overworked, bereaved Claudio, sang into his ears for an entire summer. It is possibly my favorite piece of music in the entire world, and that is saying a lot. The first time I heard it – back in the days of vinyl boxed-sets – I was gobsmacked. Stunned.

I had the incredible good fortune to hear the 1610 Vespers played live at the grand opening of Indiana University’s gorgeous Auer Hall in 1996. They sang the “Deus in adiutorium” invocation at the beginning, and then the strings, the brass, the continuo, the kick-ass cornettos, and the singers hit that big soul-stirring D chord. I burst into tears – and that was pretty much it for me for the next hour and a half. I was both exalted and wrung out like a wet rag by the end of it. Fortunately, the dear friend I was sitting with was also in tears – a fine pair we must have looked.

This music transcends denomination, and to some degree even belief. Great sacred music, whether it’s Bach or Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, can do this. I’m not Catholic – it doesn’t matter. The connection to something Bigger than all of us is audible and overwhelming.

A few years ago, there was a tragic crash of a small plane in Indiana that killed several musicians associated with IU’s School of Music and the local public radio station there. They had just performed the 1610 Vespers at another location in Indiana and were flying back. I remember thinking at the time: that transcendent masterpiece was the last music they ever heard before departing from this world. We could all do worse. When I’m about to go, say the mantras into my ear, yes, please, do the phowa, yes, please do – but leave Monteverdi’s 1610 Vespers playing in my old dead ears, and The Pure Land will already be in sight.