While Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Chorus are no strangers to sparkling adjectives, drawing praise for what they perform and how they perform it, here are two that might not immediately come to mind: playful and funny. But that’s exactly how an upcoming work, French composer Francis Poulenc’s Gloria (which the CSO and Chorus, with soprano Erin Morley, under Juraj Valčuha, will perform May 14-16) is often described.
Written for orchestra, choir and a soprano soloist, the relatively short (typically 23-26 minutes) and all-Latin Gloria is musically serious but never self-serious. Reverent but never pious. Which suits the composer.
Once described by a French critic as “half monk, half delinquent” (le moine et le voyou), Poulenc re-embraced Catholicism in 1936, but remained a deeply conflicted adherent to the religion. He famously said he was inspired to write the Gloria — six tonally disparate movements that range from consonant to dissonant and bombastic to hushed — by Renaissance artist Benozzo Gozzoli’s 1459-61 fresco cycle Procession of the Magi, in which angels appear to be sticking out their tongues (interpretations of this supposed gesture differ; it could be related to singing), as well as by a group of Benedictine monks Poulenc had seen playing football.
And he was ultimately delighted with his creation, which debuted in Boston in late January of 1961, only a few years before the composer’s death. “The Gloria is without a doubt the best thing I have ever done,” he wrote in a letter to his friend and collaborator, French baritone Pierre Bernac, after attending the final rehearsal. “It has given me a confidence that I badly needed.”
Although it was an immediate hit with American critics and audiences, however, Poulenc’s work was derided early on by detractors in France and the United Kingdom for being stylistically scattered and insufficiently dignified, even vicious, sacrilegious — especially compared to his Stabat Mater, written a decade before. Over the decades, however, in America and abroad, the Gloria has become a staple of choral repertoire, not to mention an audience favorite. In a 2017 assessment, Chicago Classical Review critic Lawrence A. Johnson called it “one of [Poulenc’s] finest efforts, freely mixing a cheerful spirituality with the boulevardier esprit of his 1920s style to delightful effect.”
Ahead of the May performances, four longtime members of the Chicago Symphony Chorus shared some thoughts on interpreting and performing the Gloria. All of them sang it under Alain Altinoglu’s baton in 2017, its most recent outing at Orchestra Hall, and all but one recorded it with the CSO and Bernard Haitink in 2007 for a CSO Resound release in 2009.
Lee Lichamer, bass
“I was 19 years old the first time I sang the Gloria in 1976, and I’ve probably performed it eight or nine times over the last 50 years, starting in Grant Park. Growing up a Catholic in Chicago, we learned the Latin Mass, so I already knew all this text.
“When I first heard the Gloria, I thought it was old music. It wasn’t until I looked at the score again that I realized it was still very contemporary in 1976. There’s a great playfulness, especially in the Laudamus te. I feel like it’s kids on the playground playing tag, as it goes from one voice to another.
“I bring my own score each time, and I’ve got so many markings, which change from conductor to conductor. Each one has their own approach to it. The key is to be open to it. It’s such a fun piece. Poulenc wrote it [in the spirit of] French cafés, with cigarette smoke blowing around. You can sit there, close your eyes, and see the pictures.”
Klaus Georg, tenor
“Poulenc is one of the greatest composers for voice and sacred music, and the Gloria has always been really fun to sing. It’s got this joyous character to it that not a lot of sacred music has. He also had quite a sense of humor. And he was always about this kind of duality between the sacred and the profane. His sacred music is very profoundly felt, but not overserious.
“For me, a lot of music — and this piece in particular — comes back to dance rhythms. It’s about the rhythmic drive and the rhythmic energy. And there’s a bit of a duality between the soloist and the chorus. The soloist is like an individual person singing praise to God, and the chorus is like the congregation.
“And there are these sudden changes of mood. You can go from very joyful to very somber. The greatest conductors know when to kind of get out of the way and let the music and the musicians express themselves. And I think that’s particularly true with Poulenc. He wrote what he meant, and he meant what he wrote.”
Lillian Murphy, soprano
“I didn’t really get the over-all tone of the Gloria until I was in my 40s. The jaunty dance-like nature of the Laudamus te is so much fun. I also really appreciate the different moods that are created. There’s a light-heartedness to it, then you suddenly get to the last movement, and there’s almost this impressionistic, lush stuff happening in the orchestra, with the soprano hovering gloriously above it.
“It’s a collaboration between the orchestra and chorus, a conversation between them. There are times they support each other, there are times they interrupt each other. There are times one is introducing the other. I think it’s a fascinating piece that isn’t done nearly enough. It has joy and meditation in the same 20-minute work.
“I always say to folks, ’You’re going to like it.’ There is nothing in this piece not to like, even if you know nothing about Poulenc or classical music in general. It’s a great intro to something that is serious but doesn’t always feel serious.”
Alan Taylor, tenor
“The Gloria is actually new territory for me at Symphony Center. I sang it with the Grant Park Music Festival in 2023, so I’m not coming in cold, but there’s something different about bringing it into this hall for the first time.
“From the first note to the last chord, the overwhelming feeling is awe. Poulenc creates an immersive, colorful soundscape that you get to be inside of. While most folks point to the soprano solo — and I get it; that movement is extraordinary — what really gets me is the alto-tenor response in full unison just before the finale.
“Poulenc’s final ’have mercy on us’ has no hand-wringing in it whatsoever. I find that radically liberating, both musically and spiritually. And I find the humor completely freeing. When you’re part of an ensemble at this level, you develop a kind of collective trust that lets you play. To me, this piece proves that music doesn’t have to sound solemn to take you somewhere sacred.”

