Brahms, Song of Destiny & A German Requiem
Death has always been –and will continue to be– one of the great themes of art in general and of music in particular. As long as we are human, we will remain troubled by the pain left by the finality of this absence; and when the tangible world no longer suffices, we will seek a consoling embrace of the ineffable. We reflect upon it tirelessly when it touches us closely and leaves us feeling defenceless: when it comes to those we love, or when we sense its inescapable approach. This is true for us all, and it was also true for Johannes Brahms, who began composing A German Requiem after the death of his friend and protector Robert Schumann, and completed it in 1868, following the death of his mother.
The work had thus been in gestation for seven years. Brahms abandoned it intermittently before ultimately returning to it and creating one of the most singular works for the dead in our musical tradition. Although its title might suggest a Mass, the composer’s choice of texts instead responds to a spiritual concern that transcends the boundaries of liturgy. A profound connoisseur of the Lutheran Bible, he selected verses from the Apocrypha and from the Old and New Testaments in their German translation, allowing him to lend the work a philosophical meaning: emphasising hope in the Resurrection, avoiding all reference to Christianity, and omitting the fear of the Last Judgement.
Divided into seven movements, the first are sombre and dramatic, corresponding to earthly suffering. The central movement forms the emotional, serene and deeply beautiful core of the work, with a gently rocking melody alternating with more intricate contrapuntal passages. This is followed by a soprano solo –added later as an explicit tribute to his mother– and then another for baritone, intertwined with a choral fugue. The work concludes by recalling material from its opening, thus creating a sense of closure. We find contrasting moments of light and darkness: more triumphant when referring to the Resurrection, more unsettling when expressing doubt, and filled with energy and hope when faith provides an answer.
The premiere of the final version was a resounding success, and this particular Requiem –which Brahms himself said might also have been called A Human Requiem– became a source of international recognition for the composer. Thus, although it received some criticism for being a more humanistic than Christian creation, it has reached us today as a pillar of the concert repertoire: a work that acknowledges the legacy of its predecessors while speaking in a style and musical language that are unmistakably its own. With chorus, soloists and the largest orchestral forces he had ever employed, it marked a turning point in Brahms’s career, leading him towards a more mature period.
In this programme, Maestro Savall pairs this essential work with the piece often referred to as the “little Requiem”: a delicate and profoundly reflective cantata that Brahms also began to write in 1868, based on verses by Hölderlin from the poem of the same name published in the unfinished novel Hyperion, or the Hermit in Greece. Schicksalslied (Song of Destiny) contrasts the heavenly joy of the gods with the suffering of the human condition; the peace and serenity of Olympus with the unrest of all that is worldly and fleeting. The floating, warm and welcoming atmosphere of the opening –a restful Adagio that speaks to us of eternal repose– is abruptly interrupted by a combative, tormented, even violent Allegro that roots us in mortal earthly existence. Yet this uncontrolled descent ends in a conciliatory realm: a postlude which, much like the first movement –though now in C major– once again reveals to us that “light” which “gently caresses” us.
The solemnity of this work of great beauty invites patient listening and introspection. The insistence of the timpani and the tension of certain phrases seem intent on stretching time itself: time, however, is inexorable and will continue to advance without compromise, as long as we remain human.
In keeping with this spirit of seeking musical truth, today’s programme also features the YOCPA (Young Orchestra and Choir Professional Academy) project, led by Maestro Jordi Savall. This initiative was created to pass on his legacy to new generations through a distinctive academy model: its training is based on collaboration between 50% of musicians in whom the Maestro places his utmost trust, who have accompanied him throughout his career, and 50% of young talents selected by the academy. By approaching A German Requiem through this shared learning model and historically informed performance practice, Savall and his academy seek to recover the original colours and textures of Brahms’s time, restoring to the work a transparency and humanity that connect directly with the secular spirituality imagined by the composer.
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