Ravinia 2022, Issue 3

looking for new expression, by caring for the originality of the form, musical language, and choice of instruments,” Bacewicz wrote to her brother Witold (October 5, 1958). “What will come out of this—who the hell knows?” What emerged was an award-winning com- position in three movements—the Music for Strings, Trumpets, and Percussion —pre- miered on September 14, 1959, at Warsaw Autumn by the Polish National Radio Sym- phony Orchestra (Katowice) under the di- rection of Jan Krenz, the dedicatee. The score received the top prize in the orchestral divi- sion (and third prize overall) of UNESCO’s International Rostrum of Composers in Paris the following year. Bacewicz adapted the aesthetic principles of sonata form to her modernist style in the Allegro . The sweeping string gesture and sustained chord foreshadow the opposing musical forces that drive this movement: propulsive rhythms and coloristic sonorities. Motoric 16th notes run throughout the first theme area as Bacewicz adds string pizzica- tos, a slow-moving hymn for five trumpets, and a thunderous timpani line. Rhythms slacken and textures lighten in a transitional section leading to the tranquil second theme, a canonic pairing of a highly chromatic sub- ject with its inversion in close imitation. De- velopment explores previously encountered motives. The themes recapitulate in reverse order (canon then 16th notes) followed by a short, dynamic coda. The Adagio begins with violins playing qui- etly sul tasto (bowing over the fingerboard) as the solo viola and solo contrabass join in a haunting, dissonant duet. The other strings gradually enter with pizzicatos, countermelo- dies, and an expanding spectrum of pitches. Simplicity returns in a cello solo, enhanced by the delicate tones of the celesta and a violin countermelody. Muted trumpets and timpani introduce a “jazz” quality, as expressed in the score. Tremolos, delicate snare drum trills, glissandos, and harmonics create a growing nervousness that steadily dissipates beneath sustained lines in the muted trumpets. The overall effect of this movement is reminiscent of Bartók’s night music. Several motives from earlier movements in- termingle with new ideas in the thematically rich Vivace finale. Bacewicz further broad- ened the range of instrumental colors and combinations. The xylophone appears in the most dynamic sections; the celesta, by con- trast, contributes to more delicate segments. Differentiation among the three instrumen- tal groups—strings, trumpets, and percus- sion (including a snare drum and timpani duel)—grows more extreme and exciting as the movement progresses, culminating in a fortissimo conclusion. JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833–1897) Ein deutsches Requiem nach Worten der Heiligen Schrift , op. 45 Scored for two flutes and piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons and contrabassoon, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, harp, organ (ad libitum), strings, soprano and baritone solos, and mixed chorus Fritz Brahms transmitted an urgent telegram to his brother Johannes on February 2, 1854: “If you want to see our mother once again, come immediately.” Regrettably, Johannes did not arrive before her death. He remained out- wardly stoic, explaining to Clara Schumann that “it’s simply a matter of carrying on and keeping one’s head above water.” Beneath the surface, this loss exacted a heavy toll on the very private composer. Never a conventional- ly religious man, Brahms found solace in his Protestant heritage, submerging himself in the Bible, or Die heilige Schrift . As familiar scriptures ran through his mind, a memorial work— Ein deutsches Requiem ( A German Re- quiem )—started taking shape. Though the title announced a “Requiem,” the work’s textual, musical, and theological elements contradicted that tradition. Brahms employed neither the Latin language nor the traditional text of the Catholic liturgy, and he rejected notions of damnation, judgment, and wrath (i.e., “Dies irae”). The work’s German language, personalized selection of scriptural text, and emphasis on comfort and conso- lation reflected another funereal tradition, one that Brahms would have experienced in his staunchly Lutheran upbringing in Ham- burg—the Begräbnisgesänge (Funeral Songs). Brahms gathered texts from throughout the Bible, as translated into German by Mar- tin Luther. He freely mixed verses from the Old and New Testaments, as well as deu- terocanonical writings from the Apocrypha, books such as the Wisdom of Solomon and Ecclesiasticus, otherwise known as The Wis- dom of Sirach. His overall text organization Johannes Brahms proceeded very indirectly from the beginning (the Gospel of Matthew) to end of the New Testament (Revelation). These texts share lan- guage (“Blessed are”): first the Beatitudes of Jesus delivered to an earthly audience in the Sermon on the Mount, and then an angelic blessing as the “eternal gospel” is proclaimed. Apocryphal texts have traditionally belonged to the Lutheran scriptural tradition. Unlike other Protestant traditions, Lutheranism did not dogmatically define a Biblical canon. (Calvinism, for example, rejected the Apoc- rypha.) Luther gathered the Apocryphal writ- ings between the Old and New Testaments. They appeared in German Bibles well into the 19th century, when rationalists drove them from the canon of scriptures. The Apocryphal verses played little part in actual liturgical readings, but would have been available for private devotions, a common act of personal piety encouraged during this period. Brahms comprehended the difficult task of compiling a cohesive religious text from such disparate Biblical sources. “I hope that a German text of this sort will please you as much as the usual Latin one. I am hoping to produce a sort of whole out of the thing and trust I shall retain enough courage and zest to carry it through,” he wrote to Clara on April 24, 1865. In selecting the scriptural texts, Brahms also relied heavily on his personal library and extensive knowledge of early music, which included numerous Baroque scores. Brahms immersed himself in their study during preliminary work on Ein deutsches Requi- em . Favorite among these sources were the Symphoniae sacrae of 17th-century Luther- an composer Heinrich Schütz, whose style merged German harmonic and contrapun- tal sophistication with dramatic, Italianate expression. Texts incorporated in Brahms’s Requiem—principally, “Selig sind die Toten, and “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen”— appeared in Schütz compositions. Johanna Henrika Christiane Nissen Brahms, the composer’s mother Other selections parallel texts in Handel’s Messiah , a composition Brahms first con- ducted in Detmold during the late 1850s. This relationship is most apparent in the sixth movement, the lengthy central text “Siehe, ich sage euch ein Geheimnis” sung by the solo baritone in quasi-recitative style, comparable to Handel’s bass recitative “Behold, I tell you a mystery.” Both works erupt with apocalyp- tic might at the sound of the last trumpet. The composers differ in their rendition of “O death, where is your sting; O grave where is your victory,” Brahms taking a far more dra- matic approach. His mother’s tragic death provided an ini- tial impulse, albeit one that did not sus- tain Brahms throughout the creation of Ein deutsches Requiem . As usual, he struggled with new genres. Work started with great promise, and, in April 1865, he sent two com- pleted choral movements to Clara Schumann. The earliest of these, “Denn alles Fleisch,” adapted music from an incomplete sym- phony/two-piano sonata of 1854. (Two other discarded movements formed the basis of his Piano Concerto in D minor, op. 15.) This sol- emn march presents a menacing choral uni- son intonation, unconsciously reminiscent of the armored-men duet in Mozart’s Magic Flute , sung with solemn gravity before the initiates begin their trials by fire and water in the quest for “heaven’s light and enlighten- ment.” The theme is also vaguely reminiscent of an undisclosed Lutheran chorale. Brahms immediately followed with “Wie li- eblich sind deine Wohnungen,” a moving portrayal of heavenly beauty that he perhaps facetiously considered “the weakest part” of his evolving Requiem . He encouraged Clara to “look at the beautiful words with which it begins.” Brahms soon completed the opening chorus, which unfolds gradually like a gentle sunrise. However, he then laid the work aside for several months; the remaining move- ments would emerge sporadically over the next two years. Brahms resumed composition in February 1866 after moving to Karlsruhe. There, he composed “Herr, lehre doch mich,” a baritone aria with chorale-like interjections by the chorus. The last two pieces reached comple- tion in the following year, and Brahms sched- uled the first performance of the six-move- ment version. After hearing the premiere of Ein deutsches Requiem in the Bremen Cathe- dral on Good Friday, April 10, 1868, Brahms added a movement for solo soprano and cho- rus, “Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit.” Remember- ing the original impetus behind the work, a tender autobiographical moment emerged in the final verse: “As a mother comforts her son, so shall I myself comfort you.” –Program notes © 2022 Todd E. Sullivan RAVINIA.ORG • RAVINIA MAGAZINE 31