HARMONIES RELIGIEUSES.
The Oratorio of “Christus”--Its Title--The Origin of Oratorios--Their
Relations to Opera--Gradual Changes in Style--The Dramatic Element
in them--Liszt’s Original Treatment--A Wide Departure from old
Forms--Events Pictured in Music--Groupings of Materials--What
it did for the Church--General Divisions of the Oratorio--The
Motto of “Christus”--The Christmas Music--Introduction of the
Stabat Mater--The Shepherds at the Manger--The King’s March--The
“Seligkeit”--Entrance to Jerusalem--The Scene at Gethsemane--The
Inflammatus--Skilful treatment of Motifs.
“Christus, Oratorio, with texts from the Holy Scriptures and the
Catholic Liturgy,” is the title of Liszt’s greatest church work,
finished in 1866.
“Oratorio” is derived from the oratory, or prayer-apartment, in which,
in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries upon sacred occasions in
Rome and at the “Azione Sagra” elsewhere, sacred plays were performed,
partly recited in costume in the so-called Collect style, and partly
sung. With the contemporary appearance of the opera, the oratorio,
through the influence of the Italian cantata, gradually assumed its
very form, and was only distinguished from it that it was not acted but
was merely sung, and had a well sustained harmony throughout. Thus with
a change of the recitative, aria, duets, terzets and chorus, Handel’s
oratorios as well as Haydn’s “Creation” are given to us. Mendelssohn
also does not essentially differ from them, but he has added to it the
chorale from the ordinary Protestant church music, while his recitative
in its increased proportion is operatic in style. From the scenic point
of view Liszt’s “Holy Elisabeth,” brought out in 1864, is very similar,
but even in this the “only one” has a high purpose and reveals the
loftiest mission. In these respects Liszt has treated the “Christus” in
a style different from all the other masters. He has not even adopted
the basis of the oratorio, or the arrangement of the materials in a
definite order dependent on the narrative and made conspicuous in its
salient points by the power of the music. On the contrary, the oratorio
gives no trace of its origin or its affiliation with the opera but is
simply a revelation of the sacred events. It is not for that reason a
mere narrative, but like Handel’s “Israel in Egypt” it describes events
by the grand colossal imagery such as music can display when allied
to religion. Not only is the recitative completely detached, and the
little that is told in narrative form restored to the Collect, which
the Catholic church employed for its old liturgy, but the aria as such
is confined to a single instance that could not be avoided, the lament
of Christ in Gethsemane. Wherever, indeed, solo or ensemble appear,
there is no trace of the personal nature of the dramatic. It is a calm
self-manifestation of the subject itself.
In its entirety it consists of a series of choral scenes which connect
and embody the details of the subject. A grand colossal world-history
is revealed to us. At the outset the composer turned to Friedrich
Rueckert’s “Evangelic Harmony” and selected therefrom detached and
lofty numbers like the “Seeligpreisungen” and “Vater Unser,” which
appeared in 1850, and upon this groundwork, he grouped together with
an accurate perception of details that must ever serve as an artistic
model, the salient features of the life of religion and the workings
of the church, according to the Vulgate and the Catholic liturgy.
In the ordinary sense also “Christus” is not an oratorio. The composer
indeed retained the name because it truly denominates a general style
of music. But it goes further than this. It is a very powerful and
clearly realistic expression of the actual spirit of the subject in
contradistinction to the operatic style. It is, in fact, a pure epic
poem, which an oratorio must be as distinguished from dramatic music,
besides being a calm and thoughtful principal features. We behold a
great world-moving event arising and passing before us. The particular
acts and salient phases come and go, like the heroes of the epic,
in quiet, simple grandeur. All the gloss of action is avoided. We
recognize that in this work we have an artistic invention and a model
which directs the world of music into a new course. This we may observe
in the arrangement of the subject.
The series is laid out, not only in three distinct divisions, but
also in separate numbers. There is deep and bold thoughtfulness in
the church portions, which breaks with all traditions, and builds
up the subject in an original style. We believe, therefore, that the
general character of the work, as may be gathered from its array of
texts, indicates the abiding in an invisible church, which, by the
pure agencies of an art which it created itself for the expression of
its deepest mysteries, has acquired a beauty of imagery revealing the
holy faith it serves in all its purity and unity. At the very outset
we realize that we have to do with an artist who is thoroughly at home
in the faith in which he was brought up, who regards it with clear
perception, who lays his foundations and builds thereon with a steady
hand. This, in and by itself, is a new treatment of the subject. In
this respect the master inwardly sympathizes with the spirit of the
church, as Sebastian Bach did with his. The difference does not consist
so much in the creative powers of the artists as in the peculiar
character of the subjects. Let us now attempt to describe more closely
some of the details of the scenes.
The work is divided into three principal sections: I. The Christmas
oratorio. II. After Epiphany. III. The Passion and Resurrection.
The nature of the work is declared in the motto, Paul’s words to the
Ephesians: “But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into Him in all
things, which is the head, even Christ.” The instrumental introduction
built upon the theme, “Resound ye heavens above,” many times repeated
and closely bound together in musical unity, as its strong esthetic
character frees the mind from the manifold distractions of the world
and by a deeply impressive harmony prepares it for entrance into a
new and loftier sphere, which is revealed at the close by the soaring
tremolos of the violins, leads directly to a longer “Pastoral,” which,
the old theme disappearing, introduces the announcement of the angels
to the shepherds. At the commencement this is the simple Collect music,
replied to by the chorus, at first accompanied by the string quartette
and then by the full orchestra. The chorus of the heavenly hosts
shouts the “Gloria in Excelsis” with majestic breadth and in mighty
accords, until at the close the life of the simple shepherds is again
pictured, to whom for the first time the announcement of the long
expected salvation has come. The third scene is the old hymn, “Stabat
Mater speciosa,” the Holy Virgin at the cradle of her Son, _lento
misterioso_, a six part _a capella_ chorus, supported by the organ in
simple accords, and varied here and there by five or six voices in
solo. Poetically it is an almost ecstatic rapture of devotion, such as
the rude and violent Middle Ages developed. It is the mystery of the
mother-love, which gives us the first clue to the living self-devotion
of all time, and in which the world-forming power of all human actions
was first foreshadowed. As childlike simplicity and purity of heart
characterize the shepherd scenes, so innocence and fervent feeling are
the predominating traits of this. The full expression of this feeling
reaches its height in the “Inflammatus.” The scene closes with a deeply
inspired and loftily-soaring “Amen.” The fourth and fifth scenes are
purely instrumental in character. The “Pastoral Scene at the Manger,”
in which the Italian oboes are used with fine effect, and the march
of “The three holy Kings,” significant of the worldly splendor of the
church, impress themselves upon the senses by their mere sound and
rhythm, so that the music itself appeals to deeply seated longings.
Both scenes are the _al fresco_ style of modern orchestral music and
are very broadly treated.
The second part is introduced with the “Seligkeit,” expressing the
return of the world to its general ethical consciousness, a baritone
song in melodious declamatory style, continuously answered by a six
part chorus, as if the acceptance of such a truth by the world should
become a fact. The groundwork here is the objective organ sound nor is
the congregation itself overlooked. The “Paternoster” is characterized
by a quiet, fervent utterance of prayer between the precentors and the
congregation to which the peculiarly majestic closing “Amen” forms a
pedestal of granite. Repose and dignity are the features of both these
phases of the fundamental tone. The music is not specially considered,
but one may imagine the images of the saints standing there and with
clear utterance declaring the truth which helps all.
Very powerful in character is the “Founding of the Church,” noble in
its import, “Tu es Petrus,” and of tender softness the “Simon, son
of Jonas, lovest thou Me?” The perishable, sinful world in its every
form is here contrasted with an undoubting faith in an everlastingly
constant higher ideal, to give it this name. That it is the spirit of
the subject, not its mere perishable husk, is shown by the nature of
the melody which rises to the most powerful expression of the final
victory of this spirit of love. Now again the full orchestra joins
the double choir, for the world, the whole world is meant. The ninth
scene is a marvel. “The storms rage in contention”--not the storms
of the sea, but the storm of desires to which the weak of faith are
exposed. It is not the outward marvel or superstition, that is to be
strengthened, but the faith of human nature in itself and its higher
power and destiny. Hence the actual inner tranquillity, when after the
raging orchestral tumult, “a great stillness” succeeds Christ’s words,
which is ingeniously introduced with the motif of the “Seligkeit,”
because such inner purity alone bestows upon mankind effective power
over the savage forces of the world.
The “Entrance into Jerusalem” is a graphic picture of animated human
life, a prelude to the entrance of religious truth into the great wide
world painted perceptively as Paul Veronese paints. In the “Benedictus”
for mezzo-soprano there is an expression of inward contentment and
happiness such as only the individual heart feels and utters. This
chorus is very similar to the finale of the first part but it carries
the glory and power of religion yet further into the realms of the
ideal.
The third part has four scenes. In it we reach the powerful climax
of the whole. The spiritual events of the world’s history and the
sorrowful struggles of passion, which have given another aspect to
humanity, pass before our eyes. It is manifest here, as it is with
Sebastian Bach, that only these powerful choral scenes can give the
complete and exhaustive sense and the intrinsic importance of the
subject in the music in which this art is enabled to disclose alike
its cosmic as well as its spiritual being. The first of the scenes
is the walk to Gethsemane, where the most sorrowful of necessities
grows into open resolution, and it is only in consonance with this
condition of the soul that here and here alone solo singing proves
effective. This solo represents to us the all-grasping, superhuman
resolution of mankind. Its sympathy with this soul-suffering is shown
in the orchestral accompaniment. The Spaniard, Ribera, painted in these
deep, dark colors. The “Quod Tu” breathes in its deep content all the
blessing which this highest of all human sacrifices the world has ever
seen, can confer.
A truly sublime reality is it then that the history of sorrow is
reflected in us as in a mirror. It is the deeply impressive Middle Age
sequence, “Stabat Mater Dolorosa,” which here relates the unprecedented
events afresh with its self-created old melody. The skill to construct
upon the basis of the countless inner moods and aspects, and out of
them a four-lined, rhythmical choral melody, and architectonic work
of such strength and fullness can not be found in any single church
work of our time. It has the dimensions of the “Last Judgment” in the
Sistine. It is not like Bach’s gigantic chorales, Gothic-polyphonic
in character, but it is written in pure harmonic-melodic style and in
its thematic treatment, like the style of the Renaissance art, only
freely develops the motif of the subject in the text, and is built up
symmetrically to an astonishing climax, reminding one of the colors and
striking characteristics of Rubens.
This number alone would doubtless establish the permanence of the
work. It proves that the value of church composition is not confined
to either church style, that of Palestrina or Bach, but that the
most modern and progressive of the arts is enabled to clearly
express whatever is required of it, and that the increased methods
of expression of our day can furnish even yet entirely new means of
expressing a subject. As a conspicuous instance of this, the twice
recurring “Inflammatus,” with chorus, solo, quartette, orchestra and
organ is well nigh overpowering in its simple grandeur and impressive
strength, and all the more so as it only turns upon the tones of the
principal motif of the piece.
In this most solemn of the world tragedies, the blissful old Easter
Song, “O Filii et Filiae,” sung by boys with harmonium, sounds
pathetic. At the close of the “Stabat Mater,” a succession of expanding
chords had already announced the salvation of the world, almost
unheard, as if from distant worlds, but here it sounds forth as if
the blessing were actually gained by the ransomed human heart. That
children possess it is a double proof of its certainty. Like a sunbeam
in a church this chorus penetrates the gloom of the Passion.
The last scene consecrates the surety of this possession and expresses
with firm and massive power the final victory of christianity,
whereupon a short “Amen” upon the original connecting motif, “Rorati
Coeli,” closes the series. It is a cycle of scenes such as only the
victorious mastery of the subject by inward perception can give, and
such as only the artist can draw who dominates all the conditions of
art like a king and has directed his soul to the absolute truth and
power of the Eternal.