Kyrie

Kyrie eleison

Christe eleison

Kyrie eleison

Gloria

Gloria in excelsis

Gratias agimus tibi

Qui tollis peccata mundi

Quoniam tu solis sanctus

Credo

Credo in unum deum

Et incarnatus est

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis

Et resurrexit tertiam die

Et vitam venturi

Sanctus

Benedictus

Agnus Dei

Dona nobis pacem
 

Two types of fate await the greatest creations in the history of art: the become over played and even trivialised, or else they become feared and neglected because of their greatness. Beethoven’s two great binary stars: the Ninth Symphony and the contemporaneous Missa Solemnis, are divided in this way. In their musical style and artistic intentions, they are very similar. Both are about the greatest ultimate questions of existence, about life and death, war and reconciliation, collapse and recovery (indeed this is explicitly stated in the text of the Mass: about Man and God, suffering and redemption.) Both occupy tremendous dimensions as befits their theme, and both break apart the existing musical structures. While the Ninth Symphony has become a symbol and its choral movement theme a hymn of humanity, the Missa Solemnis has remained relatively rarely played and is generally reckoned to be less accessible. Perhaps the Missa Solemnis’s greater emotional intensity and density of events is an explanation: it makes demands on the ordinary listener that does not help them identify with it. But just occasionally, a good performance can communicate that incomparable experience to another being that makes him feel that nothing could have happened any differently, that what follows on from every gesture and note is precisely what could only have followed. Beethoven (1770-1827) regarded the Missa Solemnis as his most important, finest work. Although he originally intended it for liturgical, or occasional use, as work progressed it became clear he ceased bothering with practical considerations, although he did formally follow the traditions and rules of mass composition. The power of the work and its individualism frankly breaks apart every liturgical framework.

The incentive for its composition was the investiture of Beethoven’s friend, pupil and patron Archduke Rudolf as the Prince Primate of Olmütz. The ceremony took place in 1820 but the work was nowhere near ready. The plan for the mass was conceived in 1818 and its first sketches date from early 1819, but Beethoven could only send the completed score to his princely friend in the spring of 1823. Beethoven did not interrupt his work on the mass, which occupied four years, except to work on the three last great piano sonatas and finish the Ninth Symphony. It is somewhat sad for the Viennese that the Missa Solemnis received its world premiere on April 6th 1824 in Saint Petersburg, thanks to Prince Galicin who was one of the few subscribers to the manuscript that Beethoven optimistically attempted to recruit. Three movements from the Missa Solemnis (Kyrie, Credo, Benedictus) were performed on May 7th 1824 at the famous concert in the Kärthnerthor Theatre when the Ninth Symphony was premiered. It had problems attracting performances and it was only in 1830 that it enjoyed its first unexpurgated performance and a further two decades before it began acquiring a wider audience.

Beethoven prepared himself meticulously to realise his goal: he studied the music of Palestrina and other church composers and made an accurate translation of the mass text. "When we write church music, we must look through all the monastery hymns, we have to examine the best translations of the verses and study the prosody of Catholic psalms and hymns" he noted. He wrote in a letter: "We cannot imitate Palestrina’s language unless its spirit and world of religious thought lives within us." Beethoven’s religiosity, as was the case throughout his life, dispensed with formal dogmatic behaviour. He undoubtedly thought of himself as a believer but his faith took on a more pantheistic form. He was no less preoccupied with the gods of Antiquity as with Jehova or Brahma and could bravely write in a letter: "God is closer to me that to other artists and I attach myself to him without fear."

The Missa Solemnis comprises of five movements (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei), but because of the text, the movements tend to be further expanded with sections of often starkly contrasting character, with alternations of a quarter of soloists and choral sections, as well as the whole ensemble. This makes the inner construction of the Mass so ostensibly complicated.

The Kyrie divides naturally into three sections, because of the three outcries (Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison) The first, bearing the instruction Assai Sostenuto, is relaxed, "radiant" music from which we learn much from Beethoven’s own note on the score: "With Devotion." The central (Christe) section has greater impetus and employs a double fugue in which Beethoven depicts this very personal entreaty with the solo singers. The returning Kyrie does not exactly repeat the opening section but is built from similar material. The entire Missa Solemnis is characterised by highly daring tonal changes and unusual modulations which can frequently be linked to ancient church modes but which to Beethoven’s contemporaries must have sounded extremely novel. After a harmonically unexpected and acerbic passage, the movement dies away pianissimo in the voice of the chorus.

The grand scale Gloria is in four parts. It begins in a glorious brilliant D major, a paean of praise marked Allegro Vivace. Gratitude with the Gratias agimus tibi section assumes a more relaxed, intimate tone, in which the choir also joins the quartet of soloists. The second internal movement of the Gloria (Qui tollis) commences with an imprecation mark larghetto. After a remarkably beautiful passage, this leads to the powerful Allegro Maestoso (Quoniam tu solus sanctus) third section with its ceremonial drums, which is utterly different in character to what preceded it. The fourth section, which again is sprightly (In gloria dei patris) is an astounding fugue which accelerates until it finishes presto. It then brings back the opening sentence to the whole Gloria movement and then to close, the choir shouts out the word Gloria into the resonant space.

From a number of different aspects, the Credo continues the concept of the Gloria but on a higher plane. This is indicated by the unusual rise in tonality of a semi tone: the D major Gloria is followed by the opening E flat major Fortissimo of the Credo. We soon discover that this tonality is only a precursor to B flat which is the basic key for this whole movement. The Credo is always a hard text to approach musically and it didn’t make Beethoven’s life easy either. According to Schindler, Beethoven locked himself away to wrestle with the Credo fugue, during which time he ran out of food and water. "Perhaps no masterpiece has been born amid such untoward circumstances," he wrote.

This movement is perhaps even more kaleidoscopic than the others. It is constructed from several brief sections, contrasting with each other, which combined produce an impression of immense solidity. The reason for this is that Beethoven consistently adheres to the exact musical expression of the text, for example the robust theme of "I believe" (Credo) is followed by chromatic scales, in which the text indicates the omnipotence of God. The music creates great contrasts to depict the visible and invisible worlds, while the symbolic figure of the dove is depicted by melodic woodwind passages. Et incarnatust is painted with modal harmonies while the warm music of Et homo factus in the Crucifixus section depicts the image of the cross rising to the heavens. An upwards soaring Allegro passage tells of the resurrection while the immense double fugue (vitam venture) and the scale passages brings Beethoven’s passionate confession to a close. The music is both rugged and triumphant. On the sketches of the Credo, Beethoven wrote "God never forsook me."

The Sanctus again raises the tonality by a semi tone: the Credo ends in B flat major, while the next music to be heard is in B minor. Beethoven breaks with tradition by beginning the movement in a slow tempo (Adagio) using chamber music apparatus. For Bach, Mozart and even Verdi, Sanctus represented a cry of joy, but Beethoven views it as something intimate and personal. (Indeed, this is how he set it in the Kismarton Mass.) We find on the manuscript score "mit Andacht" (with devotion) as at the beginning of the mass. The gates of heaven open after the words Pleni sunt coeli and the music continues with an elated Allegro. A presto fugato setting "Osanna" concludes the Sanctus which is followed without a break by the Benedictus. In Beethoven too, this is separated from the Sanctus with a preludium. The Benedictus is a classic example of Beethoven’s lyrical genius, employing a solo violin which melds with the solo singers and the dense sonority of the choir. The inexhaustible inner richness of the Missa Solemnis is well illustrated by one of the most gripping moments of the movement: Beethoven reveals the mystery of the anaphora with an unexpected but superb musical idea. Two flutes join the solo violin indicating that the miracle has happened and then the instruments descend from on high to be welcomes by the choir basses symbolising mortals. The Osanna section returns, then briefly the Benedictus with solo violin, bringing together this complex form. It is hard to envisage a more personal testament to the experience of divine mercy than this movement.

The closing movement of the Missa Solemnis is the Agnus Dei and it is a microcosm of the whole work, indeed the entire Beethovenian "strategic" programme. It progresses from the darkest, most desperate mood (and from its tonality, B minor) to light via a difficult but triumphant struggle, as the music attains personal happiness. The prayer for divine mercy is said three times, and its first two sentences Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis and its closing Dona nobis pacem gives Beethoven the opportunity to use a tripartite design, but he divides up the rest of the movement in a much more complex fashion. Beethoven writes on the score of the Dona nobis section: "Entreaty for inner and outer piece." Beethoven signals his departure from liturgical traditions by interpreting inner peace more expansively, as a vision projected on all humanity. Just as in the Credo and as we find in numerous of Beethoven’s late compositions, the fugue again becomes the main weapon of victory. The final D major entreaty is interrupted several times by the sound of battle, timpani and trumpets. But the power and passion of the vocal solos brings the battle to victory just as we find at the end of Ninth Symphony. Beethoven wrote an unusual inscription on the original manuscript: "It came from the heart and may it find its route to the heart!"