Choral Mass No 2 in G Minor
I began writing this Mass in late 2025 & what emerged was more than a setting of the Mass text. It became a musical affirmation of faith, and, in time, something that now feels like a testament to life itself.
I originally wrote the Mass for voices alone, and many of the movements can be performed a cappella. However, it was through orchestration that the work truly came alive for me. Bringing colour, texture, and depth to the choral writing felt less like a technical process and more like painting — revealing shapes and meanings that were already present but waiting to be seen.
As the Mass unfolds, so too does my own journey as a composer. Across its movements, I consciously experiment with different techniques, forms, and textures: from sonata form to fugue, from unison chant-like writing to rich choral–orchestral passages. Some movements are brief and concentrated, others more expansive. This variety is intentional, shaped by the text and by a desire to keep both performer and listener engaged.
1. Kyrie in G Minor (Birth)
The Kyrie is conceived as a kind of birth — the first cry for mercy. It opens with a dramatic unison motif in G minor, stark and exposed, echoing the raw simplicity of a newborn’s first breath.
The movement is shaped using sonata form, allowing the music to grow organically. From the opening unison cry, a more relaxed and lyrical idea emerges in G major, offering contrast, warmth, and the first sense of consolation.
In the development section, these ideas are explored and reshaped. Rhythmic figures drawn from the natural stress of the words ky–ri–e are played with and reimagined, creating momentum beneath the surface. Within this, there is even a subtle, almost subconscious rhythmic nod to the slow movement of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony — not as quotation, but as atmosphere and pulse. As the movement unfolds, the tension of G minor gradually gives way, and the Kyrie ultimately emerges fully into G major. What begins as a cry of need becomes a statement of hope.
2. Gloria in G Major (Gloria Part 1)
The Gloria in G provides a striking contrast to the opening Kyrie. Where the first movement struggles to emerge, the Gloria bursts forth like sunlight. It is not tentative, nor searching — it is a declaration. If the Kyrie is a plea, the Gloria is a revelation and that is why the fugal form is so appropriate.
Where sonata form unfolds through tension and resolution, the fugue reveals its truth through accumulation — voices entering one by one, building clarity, energy, and inevitability.
The interweaving vocal lines are not argumentative or confrontational, but affirmative and unfolding. The result is a movement that feels exuberant yet ordered, joyful without being chaotic. The counterpoint propels the music forward, creating a sense of shared proclamation — many voices speaking the same truth.
3. Et in Terra Pax in Eb Major (Gloria Part 2)
Et in Terra Pax is music of peace and stillness. At its heart is a long, singing oboe line, soaring gently above the strings and choir, carrying the melody with warmth and tenderness. The orchestral texture is transparent and unforced, allowing the voices to rest naturally within the sound rather than push against it.
There is something almost lullaby-like about this movement. It unfolds with calm assurance, without sudden contrasts or dramatic turns.
The harmony moves slowly and purposefully, like a river flowing steadily, always in motion yet never disturbed.
The music often brings to mind the Nativity — the quiet awe of the shepherds gathered around the Christ child. It is not triumphant or declarative, but intimate and reverent, drawing the listener into a moment of shared stillness.
This movement offers a place of rest within the Gloria: a reminder that peace is not proclaimed through force, but received.
4. Laudamus Te in G Major (Gloria Part 3)
Laudamus Te returns us to joyful exclamation, reuniting full choir and orchestra in a bold expression of praise.
This movement marks the first appearance of the trumpet, whose bright, open tone underlines the celebratory character of the text. Its presence brings a new brilliance to the sound world of the Mass, signalling confidence and outward proclamation.
In contrast to the contrapuntal writing heard earlier, the choir here sings in a homophonic, hymn-like texture. The voices move together with clarity and strength, allowing the words to be delivered directly and without distraction. The effect is immediate and uplifting: music that does not search or unfold, but declares. After the intimacy of Et in Terra Pax, this movement lifts the listener once more into shared rejoicing — radiant, grounded, and unambiguous in its praise.
5. Qui Tollis Peccata Mundi in D Major (Gloria Part 4)
This movement reasserts confidence and declaration: “For You alone are the Holy One.” The texture here is more intimate. A solo violoncello, joined by bassoon, weaves gently beneath the choir, adding warmth and human depth to the sound. The cello in particular takes on a quietly expressive role, accompanying the voices as though echoing their plea.
Midway through the movement, the orchestration falls away, leaving the choir alone in a homophonic texture. This moment of simplicity brings clarity and focus to the words, before the cello returns and the music gradually expands once more.
The movement concludes with full choir and orchestra, not in triumph, but in quiet affirmation — the sense of having passed through shadow into light.
6. Quoniam Tu Solus in Eb Minor (Gloria Part 5)
Quoniam Tu Solus Sanctus moves into the darker tonal world of E♭ minor, creating a sense of intensity and focus.
Much of the vocal writing here is in unison, with lines that echo and respond to one another. This stripped-back texture gives the movement a concentrated, almost elemental quality — many voices speaking as one, reinforcing the weight and authority of the text.
Out of this intensity, the trumpet returns, recalling the earlier Laudamus Te. Its reappearance brings a flash of brightness and continuity, cutting through the darker harmony and pointing forward rather than inward. The effect is one of contrast and affirmation: austerity giving way to clarity, and declaration emerging from restraint — preparing the ground for the music that follows.
7. Cum Sanctus Spiritu in G Minor (Gloria Pt 6)
Cum Sancto Spiritu marks another clear change of gear within the Gloria. We return to G minor, but this time the music is no longer tense or searching — it flows. A harp gently plucks the harmony beneath the texture, creating a sense of constant movement, like water carrying the music forward.
The choral writing has a unison, chant-like quality, with a melodic character that hints at Eastern traditions — Russian and Greek Orthodox in feel — giving the music a grounded, ancient resonance. This shared melodic line lends the movement both strength and unity.
The orchestration gradually enriches the texture. A horn adds warmth and depth to the harmony, while woodwinds double the choral lines, strengthening and colouring the sound without obscuring it. The movement opens with a short instrumental descent in the woodwinds, a musical image of the pouring out of the Holy Spirit. This gesture frames the entire piece: the music eventually closes with a similar descending figure, but now transformed — emerging into G major - completing the Gloria not through force or brilliance, but through release, unity, and grace.
8. Sanctus in G Major
The Sanctus in G major is inspired by the practice of Johann Sebastian Bach, who so often allows a brief instrumental idea to prepare the spiritual atmosphere before the voices enter.
Here, a short woodwind introduction opens the movement, with the clarinet taking a leading role. Its clear, unblemished tone is used deliberately — a sound that suggests purity, stillness, and holiness before a word is sung.
The choir then enters with the Sanctus theme, calm and assured, while the clarinet and oboe weave gently above the choral texture. Rather than competing with the voices, the woodwinds hover and interlace, adding light and movement to the sound.The effect is one of serene radiance. Nothing is forced or dramatic; the music unfolds naturally, allowing the sense of the sacred to emerge through balance, transparency, and quiet confidence. This movement acts as a moment of lifted gaze — a still centre within the Mass — before the simplicity of the Benedictus that follows.
9. Benedictus in Eb Major
The Benedictus in E♭ returns to the simplicity and stillness heard earlier in Et in Terra Pax, but this time the music is entrusted entirely to the unaccompanied choir.
Freed from instrumental colour, the voices sing with clarity and restraint. The texture is gentle and focused, allowing the words to carry their own weight. As before, there are subtle echoes of Russian and Eastern Orthodox chant, giving the movement an ancient, grounded quality.
This is music of quiet reverence rather than display — a moment of humility and inwardness. After the suspended ending of the Sanctus, the Benedictus offers not resolution, but peaceful presence, preparing the way for what follows.
10. Agnus Dei in G Major
The Agnus Dei brings the Mass to its completion. It was actually the first piece written! Scored for full orchestra and choir, this movement is majestic in character, unfolding through a gradual build-up of rich, layered texture. Voices and instruments combine to create a sense of breadth and weight, drawing together the musical threads that have been woven throughout the work.
This Agnus Dei is written consciously in the spirit of a Requiem.
There is solemnity here, but also dignity and depth — not despair, but reflection. The music does not rush to resolution; instead, it allows space for the gravity of the text to be fully felt. In this sense, the movement feels like a natural conclusion to the Mass as a whole. If the Kyrie begins with birth — the first cry for mercy — the Agnus Dei stands at the far end of the journey, acknowledging mortality, surrender, and peace.
The Mass does not end in emptiness, but in completion: a life lived, a journey travelled, and a prayer entrusted beyond the final cadence.
Review From Aya (Secretary Fareham Philharmonic Choir)
Thank you again for sending me your most impressive Mass in G minor. It was indeed a pleasure to listen to it and admire your great talent.
I am not a music critic, but I wish to share with you how I listened to your music and what I personally experienced during the process.
First, I always try to listen to new musical pieces without any prejudice, without reading any background notes and as anonymously as possible, if possible. I sit down comfortably, close my eyes and let the notes flow through me. I allow a few hours or even a day before I listen again, this time after reading and gaining information and understanding of the composer and the piece.
This is what I did, listening to your beautiful mass. I must note how accurately you described the changing mood of each part, and how well it reflected my own thoughts.
I believe that the Kyrie is the part that determines the fate of a mass: if well written, it will gain the attention of the audience and will lead to openness toward the rest of the piece. A good Kyrie will be remembered, whereas a less exciting one may seal the fate of the mass to be forgotten.
Your Kyrie is of the unforgettable sort. It is very classical, on the one hand, but also feels modern and current. For some unexplained reason, I felt that it had Russian influences which could be heard in the Cum Sanctus Spiritu as well.
Your various Gloria parts were very interesting with changing moods. Gloria 1 reflected a sense of happiness and optimism whereas the Laudamus Te sounded festive, formal and ornamented. The Sanctus felt mysterious and the Agnus Dei dreamy.
Your description next to each part was very accurate and I could feel it with and without the description.
The various parts are mainly quite short and un-repetitive which makes it interesting to listen to and to sing. It is not tedious but feels reviving and fresh, because it is simultaneously similar and different from other masses.
Thank you for the honour of sharing your creation with me.