Symphonic Chronicles Vol III

It needs to be understood that Lullingstone: “Nymphaeum et Chi-Rho” is the final movement of a five movement work lasting 30 minutes in total. The title of the complete work is Lullingstone: Five Symphonic Dramatizations Commemorating the Roman Villa at Lullingstone. It is scored for a large orchestra consisting of triple woodwind, full brass, tuned and untuned percussion, celeste, harp, and strings. As the title suggests, the work is a portrayal, in the form of a musical narrative, of certain features of a Roman villa in England, as well as specific events related to that particular villa which occurred during the early centuries A.D.

I shall briefly describe the content of the first four movements, followed by a more detailed analysis of the 5th movement which was recorded by the Janáček Philharmonic Ostrava Orchestra November 23, 2023. To begin with, however, some scene-setting and history are necessary, but for readers who prefer to go directly to the description of the final movement, please proceed to the section entitled “The Fifth Movement.”

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE VILLA AT LULLINGSTONE
A Roman villa was typically a townhouse (villa urbana) or country house (villa rustica). The villa at Lullingstone would have been classed as a villa rustica; a farmhouse devoted to small-scale agriculture, but lavishly furnished and decorated with heated residential accommodation for the owner. It was built in the 1st century A.D. during the Roman occupation of Britain and sits on a terrace cut into the hillside on the west bank of the River Darent, a tributary of the River Thames, at the present day hamlet of Lullingstone, (from which it takes its modern name), near the village of Eynsford in the county of Kent, south-east England. The Darent’s subterranean groundwaters bubble into our world from a network of at least seven springs located south of Westerham, which lies six miles west of Sevenoaks. From its source, the river flows for 21 miles past the villages of Otford, Shoreham, Eynsford, and Farningham, eventually reaching my home town of Dartford where it becomes a tidal estuary before finally entering the Thames at Long Reach. It is between the villages of Shoreham and Eynsford that the former Roman villa is located.

The proto-Darent would certainly have matched the breadth and beauty of the valleys through which it flows, but today, due to the River Medway having captured, via erosional activity, much of the headwaters which once supplied the Darent, the river is little more than a shallow, albeit highly picturesque, trickling stream. However, even during Roman times, the river was still wide enough and deep enough to be an important supply route. It was, essentially, a lifeline, and was easily able to accommodate Roman barges carrying grain and many other important supplies and commodities to and from the riverside villas. Through archaeological surveys, it is known that during the 2nd and 3rd centuries there may have been as many as a dozen or more Roman villas operating along the Darent.

An illustration by Peter Urmston provides an excellent impression of how the villa and the Darent may have appeared during the fourth century A.D.

Subsequent to its original construction in the first century A.D., the Lullingstone villa-house was repeatedly expanded throughout the following few centuries. During that time, it is thought that the villa was occupied by both wealthy Romans as well as Britons who had adopted Roman customs. The villa was, as we shall soon see, probably the most important of the Darent villas, gaining substantial political significance in the 2nd century A.D. It was destroyed by fire at some point in the 5th century A.D. Many of the Darent villas have been excavated, but the sites have been back-filled after preservation work was completed to conserve them for posterity. As a result, nothing can now be seen of them. Lullingstone is the only one of the Darent villas to have had its ruins housed in a visitors center, owned by English Heritage, which is open to the public.

THE FIRST FOUR MOVEMENTS
The first movement, “Paganus Nocte” (Pagan Night), serves as a preamble, in the form of a nocturne, to the main corpus of the work. It contains two significant melodic cells which are heard throughout the following movements during moments of unrest.

The second movement, entitled “Mausoleum,” centers around an unusually conspicuous temple-mausoleum which was constructed close to the villa, around 300 A.D. Beneath the temple was a tomb chamber with two lead coffins containing the bodies of two young people, a male and a female, who died in their early twenties. Unfortunately, no inscription has survived to provide any indication as to the identity of the couple or how they met their deaths. Due to the lack of any concrete facts, and in the interests of dramatisation, I devised a Romeo and Juliet-type scenario whereby I speculated that a feud may have arisen between rival Roman and British families which resulted in a suicide pact between two lovers, each one an offspring of one of the opposing clans. Although my conjecture is totally unsubstantiated, from a purely musical perspective, the notion of a doomed love affair provided me with the opportunity to write a love theme. However, despite its ecstatic climaxes, it is a love theme that is constantly underpinned by a fateful rising minor third motif which was introduced in Paganus Nocte. 

“Pegasus and Bollerophon” is the subject of the third movement, and also the subject of the central floor mosaic at the villa which depicts a famous scene from ancient Greek and Roman mythology; the hero Bollerophon riding the winged horse Pegasus in pursuit of the Chimera, a beast comprised of several different animals. The movement opens with an expansive, heroic theme played by the full string section in octaves, with supporting chords on the brass, suggesting the flight of Pegasus and Bollerophon in their quest to defeat the Chimera. 

The 4th movement, “Pertinax,” scored for brass, percussion and strings, is devoted to Publius Helvius Pertinax. Born in A.D.126, Pertinax became Governor of Britain in A.D.185. Artifacts discovered at Lullingstone have led to the possibility that the villa was actually the country retreat of various Roman governors of Britain, including Pertinax. This, of course, raises the status of the Lullingstone villa to quite a prestigious level.

THE FIFTH MOVEMENT
As previously stated, the 5th movement, subtitled “Nymphaeum et Chi-Rho” has been recorded by the Janáček Philharmonic Ostrava Orchestra.

A room on the northern wing of the Lullingstone villa was built over a cella which was probably used from its inception, and certainly by the 2nd century, as a cult room. It had wall paintings including a picture of three water nymphs in a niche, so it would seem that the room was dedicated to the veneration of nymphs who were supernatural beings associated with rivers and water. They were regarded as divine spirits who vitalized and presided over the natural environment in which they lived, and were responsible for the care of plants and animals in their domain. Although nymphs were usually depicted as beautiful, young maidens, it is worth noting that the human mindset behind the mythology seemed to demonstrate an understanding and awareness of the fact that nature needs to be protected, preserved and cared for, and should not be treated with disrespect and destruction. In many respects, this mirrors our own modern concern regarding the protection and management of the natural environment in which we live.

The movement opens with a quiet, impressionistic passage suggestive of nymphs bathing, after which it becomes more animated as the nymphs begin to play and dance. However, the dance which begins at 00:37 is not a dainty frolic. On the contrary, it is an exuberant celebration of nature, and for that reason its qualities are often spirited, vigorous and dynamic. After the exhaustive revelry, the bathing scene returns and leads into “the song of the nymphs”.

According to the Greek and Roman myths, nymphs were shy creatures who tended to frequent solitary areas distant from humans in order that they would not be encountered by travelers who might spy on them as they were bathing during the noonday heat or dancing beneath the moonlight. Apparently, if such encounters occurred it could be dangerous, bringing besotted infatuation, madness, or stroke to the unfortunate human.

A seductive melody on the solo oboe, beginning soon after the opening of the section starting at 03:10, alludes to the song that the nymphs would sing to entice and entrap any who would dare to spy on them, causing delirium and frenzy. The oboe melody is taken up by the string section, after which solos from violin, cello, horn, and woodwinds are introduced before the music draws to a conclusion. As it does so, the 3rd and 4th horns intone the menacing minor third figuration, suggesting that something unfamiliar and mysterious is about to enter the picture.

Around the middle of the 4th century some remarkable changes occurred that distinguished Lullingstone from many of the other villas known from Roman Britain, the most noteworthy of which were the changes that took place above the cult room involving the creation of a house-church. The wall paintings from this room, replete with Christian symbolism, set the villa apart because they provide some of the earliest evidence for Christianity in Britain. Although the surviving remnants were fragmentary, enough remained to suggest that a large “Chi-Rho,” an early Christian symbol formed by the first two letters of Christ’s name in Ancient Greek, was painted on the south wall. (See photo here)

Another Chi-Rho symbol was also discovered as early as 1794 when a Roman villa was excavated at Nunnery Mead in Frampton, Dorset. Apart from this, the Lullingstone mosaics, with their curious mixture of pagan and Christian elements, are not easily paralleled in Britain. Possible Gnostic components have been identified, both at Lullingstone and Frampton, by Dominic Perring, particularly in his paper “Gnosticism in Fourth-Century Britain: The Frampton Mosaics Reconsidered.”

Gnosticism, from the Greek word Gnôsis (knowledge or awareness), is a collection of religious beliefs that flourished during the first century A.D. among Jewish and early Christian sects. In essence, it is based upon teachings that emphasized a distinction between a supreme, spiritual, hidden God and a malevolent lesser divinity who was responsible for the material universe. Gnostics considered material existence to be flawed and evil, and that salvation could only be achieved through knowledge and not faith, but their principles were denounced as heresy by the Fathers of the early Church and consequently suppressed. As a result, Gnosticism has been generally ignored by scholars, but a discovery of a collection of Gnostic scripts at Nag Hammadi, Egypt in 1945, brought renewed interest in the subject. Although it wasn’t directly descended from an earlier religion, Gnosticism almost certainly contained Hellenistic and Zoroastrian influences. This may, therefore, account for murals such as Pegasus and Bellerophon appearing contemporaneously with the Christian elements at both Lullingstone and Frampton. The Pegasus/Bellerophon mosaic could be interpreted as a parable for the triumph of good over evil, or to put it more pertinently in Gnostic terms, as representing the triumph of spiritualism over materialism. There is also a painting that shows worshipers with their arms and hands raised, which is the posture of reverence adopted by early Christians who were, of course Gnostic Christians.

Therefore, rather than a purely Christian impact at Lullingstone, we could be looking at a Gnostic Christian doctrine, with its attendant ideology, that made a hitherto unrecognized incursion into certain areas of Roman Britain during the mid 4th century A.D. Broadly speaking, it explains the reasons for the mixture of heathen and evangelical elements at Lullingstone. Likewise, it also elucidates the juxtaposition of pagan and Christian inferences in the music of the 5th movement, which we shall now return to.

Since we have absolutely no idea of what may, or may not, have been sung or chanted in the Lullingstone house-church during the 4th century, it was a challenge to decide how to introduce this particular aspect of the villa into the music. Eventually, I took a lead from the great Italian composer Ottorino Respighi who, largely thanks to his wife, Elsa, was an authority on an early, religiously inspired form of music known as Gregorian Plainchant. Respighi introduced the Gregorian mode into many of his works. For instance, “Pines Near a Catacomb,” the second movement of his orchestral symphonic poem “The Pines of Rome,” is just one example where, by the use a Gregorian hymn, the composer conjures up a tonal picture of solitary pine trees overhanging the entrance to a desolate Roman catacomb.

Gregorian plainchant originated mainly in western and central Europe during the 9th and 10th centuries. Even though that is far removed in time from the 4th century church-house at the Lullingstone villa, not only does Gregorian Plainchant have the required religious connotations, it is also one of the earliest forms of comprehensively notated music that exists, and because it was written down in medieval music notation known as ligature-based notation (which notates pitch but not rhythm), it has been preserved. However, unlike Respighi, I am not an expert on music from that period. Nevertheless, I had the internet to help me, so it wasn’t too difficult to find a suitable chant with which to introduce the Chi-Rho section of the final movement. The very first one that I came across was Rorate Caeli. It instantly appealed to me and seemed ideal for my purposes. In brief, the text of Rorate Caeli is frequently sung to plainsong during Advent where it gives expression to the coming of the Messiah. As such, and even though it is not of Gnostic origin, it reflected and satisfied the spiritual and religious nuances that were required. Although I have only used the opening stanzas, the entire version of the chant that I chose can be heard and seen with its medieval notation here: (Rorate Caeli)

For the orchestration of the chant, I needed an instrument that contained vocal qualities, but which also sounded pure and unadorned in tone. The obvious choice was, of course, the most vocal of orchestral instruments, the trombone, and in the orchestral setting, the chant, beginning at 05:46 is given to three trombones in unison, thus providing a noble, solemn ambiance, whilst interjections from trumpets, horns, and tuba provide antiphonal interest. Because Gregorian Plainsong is monophonic, the trombone line is unharmonized, but it is rooted throughout the passage to a pedal F supplied by timpani and contra basses.

A passage of jubilation follows, underscored by the chant motif, which culminates with a succession of fanfares from the brass section answered by strings and tubular bells. Immediately following this point in the score, a number of themes from previous movements are reintroduced. At 08:00 the love theme from the second movement reappears on the strings, followed by a repetition of the Song of the Nymphs, this time proclaimed triumphantly by the heavy brass, above which unison horns reinstate the Pegasus/Bellerophon motto from the third movement. Regardless of the milieu of motifs that almost topple over one another in their struggle to be heard, it is the Chi-Rho mantra that emerges victorious. Declared robustly by trumpets and trombones, and set against a flourish of chromatically rising triads in the woodwinds accompanied by percussion crescendos, it brings the work to a resounding conclusion.

— David J Eccott