To begin with a question fraught with heresy: Why does so much "religious" music by famous composers from the classical era not sound particularly "religious?" A terrible thought to entertain, but let's do so anyway.
First, definition: The "classical era," for purposes of this posting, lasts from the late 18th to the early 19th centuries. The famous composers in question: F. J. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Rossini, Cherubini and Schubert.
For MFoD, religious music must place one into a contemplative mood. Certainly, Chant from the various religious traditions (East and West) does it, as does the range from Medieval through to the Renaissance in the West, particularly the polyphony. Then, there is J. S. Bach, all of whose music, for MFoD, is religious. Things don't really become contemplative again until 20th century minimalism kicks in, Arvo Part being an important proponent of the mystical school, as is John Tavener (a bit too minimalist for some). There is also, perdona, "New Age" music, much of which may send one over to the other side.
But, most of the "religious" music of the "gang of six" listed above, sounds much like the rest of the music they wrote: brilliant, to be sure, able to allow one to transcend this earthly vale on many levels, but just not contemplative. Witness Mozart's "Epistle Sonatas," jaunty little pieces composed for strings, with a lightly-sketched organ part (upon which Mozart himself no doubt improvised), written to be performed during the silent reading of the Epistles during Masses celebrated by the liturgically brusque Archbishop Colloredo of Salzburg. They seem to belong more to the Viennese coffee-house than to the sanctuary. Even his moving, unfinished Requiem Mass is more terrifying than contemplative, especially with the perennial rumors about its shadowy commissioner and Mozart's untimely death. It is to Sarastro's arias in Die Zauberflote to which we must turn for the time-suspending quality that allows for contemplation. When one realizes that the opera was written for a music hall, well, the irony piles up, doesn't it?
Haydn's Muse was also genial. Die Shopfung, for example, is glorious and lyrical, as are his masses, but not conducive to otherworldly visions.
Schubert, Catholic by birth, but not at all a practitioner, wrote several quiet masses. It's perhaps to his lieder that we might look for contemplative elements. Here, the connection of poet, composer, singer and pianist offers intimacy, and, brief moments for introspection. However, given the genre, moments are all we are offered.
Rossini: Why even bother? His Petite Messe Sollenelle and Stabat Mater have all of the bustling good humor of his operas, and is scored for harmonium! The mass serves as a template for the Verdi Requiem, certainly one of that composer's greatest operas (and to a good text, too).
Beethoven's Missa Sollemnis is an essential composition. Yet, its symphonic texture invites us to attend, not to have an out-of-body experience. And, modern performance practices turn the violin obbligato of the Sanctus into a concertante. At one concert at Carnegie Hall, the fussy, diva-ish Concert Master of a renowned American orchestra set up a separate stand and took the music into display territory (MFoD will hear that orchestra play again when news of the CM's departure comes out).
Luigi Cherubini, sort of the forgotten "middle child" of this grouping, is the only one known primarily for his masses: two Requiems and other occasional masses. Here we have a clear intent of humbly composing for the mysteries of Faith. The requiems have no soloists, no opportunity for display (one is scored for men's chorus, bringing an unprecedented darkness to the entire score). The listener is thus left with music and text; Cherubini comes closer than the others to a sort of pseud-contemplativeness. Unfortunately, the music does not stand out in the company of the other five composers on the list.
No, contemplative music is not the forte of these giants (and demi-giants). A sign of their times, perhaps. Well, back to the 14th century, when the plague raged and polyphony ruled!
First, definition: The "classical era," for purposes of this posting, lasts from the late 18th to the early 19th centuries. The famous composers in question: F. J. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Rossini, Cherubini and Schubert.
For MFoD, religious music must place one into a contemplative mood. Certainly, Chant from the various religious traditions (East and West) does it, as does the range from Medieval through to the Renaissance in the West, particularly the polyphony. Then, there is J. S. Bach, all of whose music, for MFoD, is religious. Things don't really become contemplative again until 20th century minimalism kicks in, Arvo Part being an important proponent of the mystical school, as is John Tavener (a bit too minimalist for some). There is also, perdona, "New Age" music, much of which may send one over to the other side.
But, most of the "religious" music of the "gang of six" listed above, sounds much like the rest of the music they wrote: brilliant, to be sure, able to allow one to transcend this earthly vale on many levels, but just not contemplative. Witness Mozart's "Epistle Sonatas," jaunty little pieces composed for strings, with a lightly-sketched organ part (upon which Mozart himself no doubt improvised), written to be performed during the silent reading of the Epistles during Masses celebrated by the liturgically brusque Archbishop Colloredo of Salzburg. They seem to belong more to the Viennese coffee-house than to the sanctuary. Even his moving, unfinished Requiem Mass is more terrifying than contemplative, especially with the perennial rumors about its shadowy commissioner and Mozart's untimely death. It is to Sarastro's arias in Die Zauberflote to which we must turn for the time-suspending quality that allows for contemplation. When one realizes that the opera was written for a music hall, well, the irony piles up, doesn't it?
Haydn's Muse was also genial. Die Shopfung, for example, is glorious and lyrical, as are his masses, but not conducive to otherworldly visions.
Schubert, Catholic by birth, but not at all a practitioner, wrote several quiet masses. It's perhaps to his lieder that we might look for contemplative elements. Here, the connection of poet, composer, singer and pianist offers intimacy, and, brief moments for introspection. However, given the genre, moments are all we are offered.
Rossini: Why even bother? His Petite Messe Sollenelle and Stabat Mater have all of the bustling good humor of his operas, and is scored for harmonium! The mass serves as a template for the Verdi Requiem, certainly one of that composer's greatest operas (and to a good text, too).
Beethoven's Missa Sollemnis is an essential composition. Yet, its symphonic texture invites us to attend, not to have an out-of-body experience. And, modern performance practices turn the violin obbligato of the Sanctus into a concertante. At one concert at Carnegie Hall, the fussy, diva-ish Concert Master of a renowned American orchestra set up a separate stand and took the music into display territory (MFoD will hear that orchestra play again when news of the CM's departure comes out).
Luigi Cherubini, sort of the forgotten "middle child" of this grouping, is the only one known primarily for his masses: two Requiems and other occasional masses. Here we have a clear intent of humbly composing for the mysteries of Faith. The requiems have no soloists, no opportunity for display (one is scored for men's chorus, bringing an unprecedented darkness to the entire score). The listener is thus left with music and text; Cherubini comes closer than the others to a sort of pseud-contemplativeness. Unfortunately, the music does not stand out in the company of the other five composers on the list.
No, contemplative music is not the forte of these giants (and demi-giants). A sign of their times, perhaps. Well, back to the 14th century, when the plague raged and polyphony ruled!
2 comments:
For me, MFoD, the divine sadness of Cristóbal de Morales' Officium defunctorum and Missa pro Defunctis (1559) redeems the very quality for which you are searching. Having sung chant myself in the monastery, I find my tastes tending to the mixed plainsong and polyphony of this Spanish Renaissance composer. Do you know this mass?
Oh yes, Renaissance polyphony at its greatest.
Post a Comment