Cesar franck biography panis angelicus cesar

Penultimate stanza of Thomas Aquinas' Sacric solemniis

Panis angelicus (Latin for "Bread of Angels" or "Angelic Bread") is the penultimate stanza of the hymn "Sacris solemniis" written by Saint Thomas Aquinas for the feast of Corpus Christi as part of a complete liturgy of the feast, including prayers for the Mass and the Liturgy of the Hours.

The strophe of "Sacris solemniis" that begins with the words Panis angelicus ("bread of angels") has often been set to music separately from the rest of the hymn. Most famously, in 1872 César Franck set this strophe for tenor voice, harp, cello, and organ, and incorporated it into his Messe à trois voix.

Other hymns for Corpus Christi by Saint Thomas where sections have been separately set to music are "Verbum supernum prodiens" (the last two strophes begin with "O salutaris hostia") and "Pange lingua gloriosi" (the last two strophes begin with "Tantum ergo").

Musical settings

The text was set as a motet by several Renaissance composers including João Lourenço Rebelo. In the seventeenth century, Marc-Antoine Charpentier set H.243 in 1670–75. Later romantic era settings include those by André Caplet, Saint-Saëns, and, best known of all, the setting by César Franck.

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I first heard César Franck’s “Panis Angelicus” in December when my husband and I were living in London. While holiday shopping, I picked up a compilation CD entitled “Sacred Songs for Christmas,” drawn by the fact that some of the songs and carols were new to my American ears. Back home, I gave the CD a listen and instantly fell smitten. Since then, I’ve forever associated “Panis Angelicus” with that delicious, soulful evening (admittedly, wine became involved). London’s darkened afternoons, so different from California, seemed to have made that time of the year more sacred and fleeting than what I’d previously experienced. In truth, despite the grey, overcast skies, the frequent drizzle, I’ve never enjoyed a December holiday season more. It all comes back to me whenever I hear this recording of “Panis Angelicus.”

I’m Catholic, so I celebrate Advent, and this beautiful short piece seemed to epitomize all that is good about December, while serving as good therapy against those manic bouts of mandated [and teeth-gritting] good cheer. You hear the opening notes of “Panis Angelicus” and your shoulders unclench; your thoughts slow. Your ears prick up in order to catch every beautiful note. The words are in Latin, so there’s nothing to reject if you’re not religious. You simply listen to the music and allow it to transport you. I’m going on two decades of listening to this CD during the holidays and its magic is enduring. In fact, give it a listen yourself, and then we’ll talk.

I hear you telling yourself that you don’t have time right at this moment to stop and listen to this, particularly since the first one starts rather slowly, somber organ music, the camera panning over the interior King’s College Chapel in Cambridge. You do have the time. In fact, you need this more than you realize. (And if you’re not religious and the setting and the organ are making you feel stressed out, scroll down to the second version. I find the orchestral opener to be particularly love

The Belgian composer César Franck was born in the town of Liège in 1822. His country’s most significant composer of the Romantic period, Franck’s biggest hit today is the beautiful miniature Panis Angelicus, regularly requested on Classic FM.

César Franck came from a very ambitious family: his father, in particular, had high hopes for his son, and believed him to be destined for a career as a concert pianist. Considerable pressure was placed on the young César, but he never managed to achieve Franck Senior’s aim.

When Franck first applied to study at the Paris Conservatoire, he was declined entry because of his nationality. He eventually managed to persuade them to accept him, though, not as a performer but instead as a composer.

From the mid-1840s onwards, Franck made his living as a teacher and organist in Paris, before eventually becoming Organ Professor at the very conservatoire he himself had studied at.

Although acknowledged as a fine composer today, in 19th century Paris Franck was largely overlooked – right the way up to his death in 1890.
Opera was very much the music of the moment and, as a composer of instrumental and choral music, Franck wasn’t seen as being particularly relevant by the great and the good.

In addition to the ever-popular Panis Angelicus, Franck composed a number of other works that are worth discovering: among them, the brilliant Symphony in D minor dating from 1888, and the Symphonic Variations for Piano and Orchestra. The Violin Sonata is also well worth exploring.

His sacred music output, meanwhile, includes various choral works based on biblical themes, and a beautiful Mass dating from 1861 that incorporates Panis Angelicus.

The Belgian-born but ultimately French composer César Franck wrote some glorious music, brimming with inventive, intoxicating melodies.

From the sunny Violin Sonata in A to the intricate Variations Symphoniques for piano and orchestra, any journey through Franck’s music is deeply rewarding. And yet, he’s far and away remembered for this one piece of music, Panis Angelicus, which has been recorded hundreds of times and is still performed frequently the world over.

The melodic line is sung by a solo tenor, accompanied by a relatively reserved organ and sedate string chords. Although known primarily as a stand-alone piece, Panis Angelicus was also included by Franck within his Mass for Three Voices. However, Panis Angelicus was completed in 1872 – twelve years after the Mass – so its inclusion was a rather belated affair.

Like his fellow French composer Gabriel Fauré, César Franck was a precociously talented child, adept not just at composition but also as a concert pianist. His particularly demanding father placed considerable pressure on the young composer, urging him to teach alongside his studies. Despite the pressure from his father, the young César wasn’t dissuaded from following a musical path in later life. And for that, we can be truly thankful.

Recommended Recording

Choir of St John’s College, Cambridge; Andrew Nethsingha (conductor). Chandos: CHSA 5085.