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Communion of Saints

by various artists

supported by
Renaud Bouet
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Renaud Bouet la thématique, l'expérimentation sonore, les samples Favorite track: يا مريم، صلى من أجلنا (Blessed Virgin Mary).
gensogrips
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gensogrips Neofolk? Black metal? Medieval music? Weird dark ambient? Lots of saints?
Yes, all of that! Favorite track: Beneath The Plow (St Walstan).
Panangelium
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Panangelium As strange and undefinable as holiness itself, may the holy angels bless this unprecedented effort. Favorite track: Gabriel (Archangel Gabriel).
Albert Sidelnik
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Albert Sidelnik monster jams. thanks for putting this one together.
Lars Gotrich
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Lars Gotrich A compilation of weirdo folk, bummer psych and blasted noise named for Catholic saints? Pure Lars catnip. Favorite track: VI (St Sarah).
wolfvonbeowulf
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wolfvonbeowulf What's not to love? Many artists on this comp are at their peak with these contributions. Favorite track: A, a, a, a, Nunc guadet ecclesia (St Thomas Becket).
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Wāitiks Adalberts ast Gallaswīrds, Jūrjas angins, wīdras wins. Wāitiks Adalberts ast prēisiks tāls. Kērmenin twāise ēda Patals. Wāitiks Adalberts ast wīlkan wags. Sikkas kelljan, Sikkas waks. Wāitiks Adalberts: Kaldeīnas kals, Galwan na kallan: twāise swents gals. Kelli aūsan dāst per kīrstan galwan, Embastan na kīrsnan kallan? Kelli aūsan dāst per swentan gallan, Enkāuptan pra kīrstan galwan? Wāitiks Adalberts, prēipaus jēis! Prūsas swentāinan etwārtai etdāis! Wāitiks Adalberts ast wārgas aps. Wissan wārgan naikīnsei lāps! Wāitiks Adalberts - Tenkītan nāws, Begalwis kērmens, bāukjan tāws. Wāitiks Adalberts - pra Sikkan pjaūsts Pergrubrjas prēisiks, kelljan āusts. Kelli aūsan dāst per kīrstan galwan, Embastan na kīrsnan kallan? Kelli aūsan dāst per swentan gallan, Enkāuptan pra kīrstan galwan?
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Stand now as witness: These things have laid their mark Hard upon me. What I have been And what I am now become: These things are one. In the day I looked upon the king of the proud, Thrice I made invocation -- Those names as the points of my shield. Twice was this temple cast Within a stone of its life. But on the third day In my Lord I reign. Though on earth was not his equal, Who silvered the crown of the deep, My arm was upheld. I glory in the blade! By living word, to lance between flesh and breath, The proud shields of his neck. My Lord, I triumph! Now look upon me, you king of the proud -- My brother, my keeper, my liege. Witness to witness: These things shall lay their mark Hard upon you. What I have been and What I am now become: These things are one. Look upon me, you king of the proud -- My brother, my keeper, my liege. How thy countenance fell. Naked and shieldless, thrice I see the wheel of swords, And thrice I am returned. Invert my cross and it will still blaspheme against you; Well does the Gatekeeper know this. Impenitent am I, For long ago my heart was hardened in wyrmfire. I glory in the blade! I glory in the blade! Impenitent, Impenitent, I welcome the stroke of grace. My Lord, I triumph.
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NOW IT IS TIME FOR ME TO OFFER UP MY BODY I ASK YOU THE EXECUTIONER CRUCIFY ME WITH MY HEAD DOWNWARDS AND NOT OTHERWISE FOR THE FIRST MAN FELL FROM HEAVEN HE WAS BORN WITH HEAD DOWNWARDS AND IT WAS DEAD HAVING NO MOTION LISTEN IM AT THE LAST AND FINAL HOUR OF MY LIFE SEPARATE YOUR SOULS FROM EVERYTHING THAT IS OF THE SENSES EVERYTHING THAT DOES NOT EXIST IN TRUTH BLIND THESE EYES OF YOURS AND YOU SHALL PERCEIVE THE WHOLE MYSTERY AND IT WAS DEAD HAVING NO MOTION
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Cast you from the night to free you on the other side Shed in golden light the yellowed pages of your life Hidden in the lines which carved out your heart from some greater design And bound numbers to the times you were lost in the flow --rose and gold cast in blood and stone The sweet milk of life And the black life of death Together grow the blossomed vines that twine the hearts Of those who seek the light Add numbers to the stars And you might sum a god who cast flame from a heart Trying to divine love as a flower grown in the poison of life The sweet milk of life And the black life of death Bear root in every blossomed vine that twines the heart Of those who yearn for the light
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Look at you in sheep’s clothing Brother Wolf said to Saint Francis I have known you through the ages by your hooks and by your lances You’re a wolf as sure as I am though you've lately learned to mask it But this Christ blood smells familiar so I'll follow if you ask it This is not my First Communion troth of old I still remember Ygg the Wolf Foe called us to him one eye blazing like an ember Hanging howling corpse of kingship battle slain from striving selfward Covenant we made in wolf-tongue High and Just-AsHigh and Third Antimony antecedent foresight forewarned Fenris’ vengeance Lapping gore from blood-twig show’ring rubedo of mad transcendence Sköll and Hati stretched their jaws as man and wolf walked through old Gubbio Doors and windows slammed and shuttered fearful of the saint with beast in tow Congregation all recoiled gasps of terror filled the aisle From the narthex to the altar strode the wolf with gaping smile Oftentimes had Francis warned them faithless eyes will never see But greedy wolves know blood from wine and gorge themselves on royalty Outside there was frost a-falling wild kindred’s mournful calling in deep places dwarves were crawling but their hammers had stopped falling Álfar in the stones drew inward quiet fell in field and vineyard wights upon the stoop and cinders harkened echoes in the timbers
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Red Footsteps In your red footsteps, From drops of blood, White lilies grow All in the mud. We walk behind you Gathering flowers, In silent prayer, For lonely hours. Just like your savior, See how you bleed: His wounds from nails, Your wounds from teeth. The fierce dragon, The worm of hell, All in this forest Once did dwell. Until a hermit, Armored with prayer, Followed the dragon Unto his lair. And suffering poison And biting wounds, He crushed the worm Upon the ground. In your red footsteps, From drops of blood, White lilies grow All in the mud.
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Father laid Him down to sleep To rest and sway In dreams so deep The swarm came down On the child’s head Sleep in peace They’re not a threat The bees foretold Their honey sweet With a saintly tongue The world he’ll treat Heaven’s blessing For the infant boy The swarm takes off Souls fill with joy The honey drop Foreshadowing The bees are gone Without a sting The honey drop Foreshadowing The bees are gone Without a sting
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A, a, a, a, Nunc gaudet ecclesia [Now the church rejoices] (MS. Sloane 2593) [f. 23v] A, a, a, a, Nu[n]c gaudet ecclesia. [1] Lestenytgh, lordynges, bothe grete and smale; I xal you telyn a wonder tale, How Holy Cherche was brow[t] in bale Cum magna iniuria. [With great injury] [2] The greteste clerk of al this lond, Of Cauntyrbery, ye vnderstond, Slawyn he was [with] wykkyd hond, Demonis potencia. [By the power of the devil] [3] Knytes kemyn fro Hendry Kyng, Wykkyd men withoute lesyng; Ther they dedyn a wonder thing, Feruentes insania. [Raging in their madness] [4] They sowtyn hym al abowtyn, Withine the paleys and withoutyn; Of Jhesu Cryst hadde they non dowte, In sua malicia. [In their wickedness] [5] They openyd here mowthis wonder wyde; To Thomeys they spokyn mekyl pryde: 'Here, tretour, thou xalt abyde, Ferens mortis tedia.' [Bearing the burden of death] [6] Thomas answerid with mylde chere, 'If ye wil me slon in this manere, [f. 24r] Let hem pasyn, alle tho arn here, Sine contumilia.' [Without disgrace] [7] Beforn his aunter he knelyd adoun, Ther they gunne to paryn his crown; He sterdyn the braynus vp and doun, Optans celi gaudia. [Hoping for the joys of heaven] [8] The turmentours abowtyn sterte; With dedly wondys thei gunne him hurte, Thomas deyid in Moder Cherche, Pergens ad celestia. [Attaining to heaven] [9] Moder, clerk, wedue, and wyf, Worchepe ye Thomeys in al your lyf For lii [fifte-two] poyntes he les his lyf, Contra regis consilia. [Contrary to the king's counsels] Text from Richard Leighton Greene, The Early English Carols, 2nd ed. (Oxford: OUP, 1977) pp. 60-61 [no. 114], 369-370 [notes]. & Edith Rickert, Ancient English Christmas Carols: MCCC to MDCC (London: Chatto & Windus, 1910) pp. 129-130. Translations from the Mudcat forum, except for verses 1 & 4 (translated by the singer).

about

COMMUNION OF SAINTS
Curated by Clay Ruby, Nathaniel Ritter and Brielle Ruby.
Mastered by Nathaniel Ritter and Clay Ruby
Artwork by Izzy Kovalevskaja

credits

released November 1, 2017

Each track was made public on the feast day of its corresponding saint, throughout the year 2017.

Click on each track to see the individual notes, the feast day and unique artwork by Izzy Kovalevskaja

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Brave Mysteries Wisconsin

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2010 - 2020

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