Requiem aeternam began its life as a brass quintet written for my friend and former housemate Andrew Davidson. I decided to use the opportunity to write something less flashy and rhythmic than my typical style, and write something entirely based around harmony, counterpoint, and independent melodic lines.

The general tone and temperature of the piece took shape in my mind in 2024, during a period of time where I became quite entrenched in two particular string works: Elgar’s “Nimrod” from the Enigma Variations, and Thomas Adés’ “O Albion” from Arcadiana. Both works are essentially a barrage of some of the most beautiful melodic and harmonic writing ever composed, and I found myself compelled to write something similar in tone, but unmistakably me. I began writing the work for brass quintet - pretty chords and lots of suspensions, it was a no-brainer. But as it took shape, it also became a no-brainer to do a version for strings... and then a version for organ... and then for clarinet choir. I embraced the flexible instrumentation, and decided to put each version out alongside one another, none “truer” than any other. I knew I wanted to arrange it into my first work for choir, but struggled to find the right text setting.

As I was in the final stages of composing the piece in late 2024, a dear friend I’d met working at a bookstore was diagnosed with and passed away from cancer over the course of about a week. Finishing the piece became a way for me to process my grief, and it solidified itself as a meditation on death. I realized then that the text I had been searching for was almost painfully obvious - the Requiem Mass. As the concept of the eternal is central to the piece, I wanted to particularly emphasize the words “perpetua” (perpetual) and “aeterna” (eternal). This is a piece of healing for me, and in my view some of the truest music I’ve written.