A CRITICAL ESSAY
on the
REQUIEM OF MOZART.
Extracted from the papers on Mozart's Masses in the " Musical Times"
by
EDWARD HOLMES.
To HECTOR BERLIOZ, the Composer op a great Requiem, this Ebsay 13 inscribed, with respect and friendship.
INTRODUCTION.
Hitherto we Lave considered in these Masses the productions of a very young man, exercising his invention amidst every possible disadvantage in choir and orchestra, to find the means of pleasing in his inusic. During the twelve years which Mozart spent at Vienna, on his removal from Salzburg, his genius had home the fruits of these preparatory studies principally in secular music, for the stage, the orchestra, and the chamber ; and, except the Mass in C minor, composed the year after his marriage, which" now forms the groundwork of Davidde Ptnitenie, he had rendered no tribute to the churcli-—though this nursing mother, who had brought him up to maturity under her especial care, always maintained his interest and affection. On the vicissitudes of his public life at Vienna, we might still think with some degree of indignation and grief, were it not better to
Let determined things To destiny hold unbewailed their way.
Without the antecedents of such a career, we could Dot have possessed the Requiem, which owes its chief peculiarities and impassioned style to the circum-Btances under which it was produced j the mind bright and unimpaired, the body wasting,—the hand of death tracing notes in which the composer fully
" All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whaie»er stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of love, And feed bis sacred Same."—Coiehipqe.
believed he was celebrating his own obsequies, and bidding final adieu to earth and its concerns.
The history of the composition of the Requiem is too familiar to be repeated : we all know what tender domestic scenes and embarrassments it occasioned— how Mozart worked at it sometimes to swooning—how often the score was taken from him by his wife, and again, at his earnest solicitation, returned, to be finally completed by the time when he took to his death-bed; his imagination being through the whole period filled with fatal presentiments and images of the other world —that he had received a supernatural commission— that his health was undermined by poison—with other 1 sick men'B dreams,' He appears to have been surprised by the sudden summons; he thought how young he was to die, estimating life by years rather than by sensations—forgetting that he had compressed in thought, feeling, and action, three lives into one— forgetting tlip ninp hnpdrpd works, whit-h he had composed—the night how often turned into day by him, for business or pleasure—the masquerades, the balls, and the occasional convivial excesses in which he had shared with the actors; for all which, as it may have been too much on either side, the laws of our mechanical being demand a reckoning, and even the favoured Mozart could claim no exemption. Pre-occupied with the effort to understand his own genius, and with the
desire to accomplish what seemed open to It tin in music, he seems in his personal conduct to have acted at times with an indifference to consequences, which the enthusiasm of youth and the abstractcharacter of his pursuits may alone explain, if not quite excuse.
It was in the autumn of 1791, when his health had suffered a serious change, though it at first occasioned no ground for alarm, that he received a commission from some unknown hand to compose a Requiem, which was to be in his best manner, and entirely in the style which he himself approved. For what purpose the original possessor of the work treated for it in the manner he did, making no restrictions on him from retaining a score, or even publishing it when he thought fit, remains to this day a mystery. We have heard a Count Wolfegg named as this individual * stranger.' Desiring to celebrate the anniversary of the decease of a lady whom he had tenderly loved, by the performance of a Requiem exclusively his own, he procured this; some say that he wished it to pass as his own composition—a dangerous fraud if he had done nothing, and still more if the contrary: but to tins story we give no heed, for his first business in such an attempt should have been to destroy all traces of Mozart's handwriting; and even then his secret must have remained in jeopardy, from the free intercourse with Ins friends and family which the composer
II.
aiozaiit's requiem.
always maintained while writing. Instead of finding base and unworthy motives for the instigator of the Requiem—accusations which bear with them their own refutation—we can only express the obligation of the world to him, and wish that Mozart had earlier found so discerning a patron.
The composer himself innocently founded the tale of mystery which has circulated with bis Requiem— the origin of which may be distinctly traced to the excited and gloomy imagination which accompanied his sickness. That a rich and tasteful nobleman who knew Mazart's power of writing in the most elevated style of sacred music, should wish to possess a Requiem by him was not wonderful; but that, in treating for il, he concealed his name, paid handsomely bef'ore-li.inrl, and transacted the whole affair through the ■igency of one who seemed to watch Mozart, and to come upon him at unexpected times and places, was strange, and appeared to the composer almost supernatural. He was haunted from time to time, by the presence of a man, whose sole care seemed to be the Requiem ; and this mysterious figure approached him just as he was stepping into the carriage which conveyed him to Prague, to compose La Clemenzadi Tito. With his head and heart full of the beautiful melodies which distinguish that opera, the disagreeable effect of such an apparition—the new train of ideas called up by it—may be imagined. " Who can it be that is thus earnest on this ghastly funereal theme? Certainly a messenger from the other world, and he foretells my death." Thus reasoned on false grounds the sick Mozart, and he arrived at a right conclusion by the instinct which is beyond reason.
Another circumstance brought to this application for the Requiem, a kind of supernatural interest-Mozart had all his life been secretly wishing for the opportunity of composing one, and now it occurred almost miraculously, andjuvt as he could have desired. The subject, coincided exactly with his frame of mind in failing health, and the composer, whohadbcen educated among theologians, and in the strictest observances of his community, was eager for the opportunity of once more doing honor to that church of which he had been of late a lax and somewhat pardonable member.* He knew that the first privilege of composing for the church is independence of the public and freedom from the prejudices of taste and fashion ; and to be able to write his best without fear or hesitation was, to him who had sacrificed himself continually to others,
* In the records preserved by Rochlitz of Mozart's conversations at Leipsiv. amidst familiar friends, on hi* northen, [imr, about three vears hflore his death, his attachment to the Catholic religion is strorfe'ly manifested. Had lie lived tu enter upon ih<s ollice of Ka-pellmei-ttr of St. ttfepliuu, ue shnultl most prubably have rccoiv.d fidin him a new collection ot Masses with compLete orclu'Mral
a rave and much desired opportunity. Possibly, also, he thought with humility that his good works might deserve the favor of heaven—that voca me cum bene-dictis, the humble prayer of his music, might be fulfilled on his own behalf, and that at the general consummation he might himself, though unworthy, be admitted to nestle among the wings of the angels. The composition breathes these feelings; though suppliant and religious, it is full of human passion,—it casts a longing, lingering look at the past, amidst the terrors of the future,—it is, in fact, Mozart revolving his experience of life, and lost in a dream of the final Judgment, with feelings which he was the first to express in the mysterious language of music.
All the incidents of the fatal autumn which put a period to Mozart were deeply impressed on the memory of his widow and her sister; and when, in the early part of the present century, the score was published, the story of the 'stranger,' drawn out in form and detail, and adapted to the popular taste, circulated with it. Advantage was taken of the mystery, to excite the public to an interest in a work, whose intrinsic merit, needed no adventitious aid. The taste for music and the fame of Mozart were not, however, general enough at this period to support the expensive publication of a great score. And now came a matter tending more to embarrass opinion and involve the origin of the work in obscurity. A claim was put in by another hand to a share in the composition. A musician in habits of intimacy with Mozart, and who assisted him in filling up the accompaniments of some of his later scores—a man named Siissmayer, who had accompanied him to Prague to perform iMs office for La Cle-menza di Tito, which was dispatched in n fortnight—presented himself asjjje authorof a part, from the Sane tits to the end. Unreasonable as tliesc pretensions to some of trie greatest beauties of the work appeared, from a composer known only by one obscure opera, called The Mirror of Arcadia, there was no one to contradict them. A work had been published complete, of which only two fragments of the score were known to exist in the composer's handwriting—one possessed by the Abbe Stadler, and the other by Eybler. Mozart's widow confirmed, accoiding to the best of her recollection, the statement of Sussmayer, and believed that he completed the score of the Requiem which was delivered to the 'stranger;' and it must be pardoned in her, if, in her distracted condition respecting her husband, she was not very attentive to, or not very accurately infoimed respecting, his works.
The Requiem began to be known in England to musicians soon after the first introduction of Don Giovanni, when Mozart became an object of general curiosity and interest.   It came over to us with its full
quota of rumours. Mozart was beliewd to have died during the composition, and some, indulging their speculations on this head, would fain point out the chord at which the pen dropped from lis hand. To confirm this idea of death having overtaken the composer at his task, we have been shown the last movement made out of the materials, and nearly a repetition of the opening—whence it was argued that a ninn so full of ideas would not have resorted to that expedient had he possessed his usual powers and free-will. But in this opinion a common habit of Mozart's, of connecting the end with the beginning of compositions— since become of great authority in music—is overlooked. That this was done by him with deliberation and choice, we have since had proof.
No one in England gave credit to Siissmaycr's claim to have composed the Sanctus. There were his words of assertion on the one side, and Mozart's notes to confront them on the other—an overwhelming evidence. Who could believe that the sublimity of the Sanctus, or the sweetness and elevation of the Bonedictus—although this last is newly and most unusually scored—could have any origin but in the mind of Mozart? And yet there were Germans who until within these few years affected to believe the truth of Sussmayer, and to doubt the authenticity of the Requiem as a genuine work of Mozart, from the secular taste of the melody displayed in some of its movements. —in the close of the Tuba Mirum, for example—for which it was affirmed that any other composer than Mozart would have received the castigation of criticism. The beginning of Handel's Funeral Anthem for Queen Caroline, as also the subject of a fugue from Joshua, were quoted to show that the subjects of the introduction and fugue were not uuite original. There certainly ia a slight—possibly an accidental similarity. While musicians were enjoying the beauties of the Requiem, the musical critics of Germany, with the late M. Got-fricd Weber at their head, were engaged in a long profitless discussion concerning its genuineness, on which one little fact has since rendered all their reasonings nugatory. The discovery of a full score of the Re->uiem, in Mozart's handwriting, was notified in the Algemeine Mmikaliseke Zeitung, No. 5, for Jan., 1839, with the promise of a dissertation on the same from Herrn Hofrath von Mosel. This fortunate event silenced all question as to its authenticity, and reduced the contention of those who would still dispute to a mere point of taste. It was one thing to maintain that the work was not genuine, because no complete score existed—another to contend that Mozart had failed in parts confessed to have been written by him. ] A secular character in some of the melodies was chiefly I blamed; and, by implication, Beethoven even scorns to cast a slur on this work, when, in writing to Cheru-
mozart's requiem.
in.
bini, he observes, that should he compose a Requiem, his design of composition would be the one he should adopt. That Cherubini's Requiem, founded on the old church music, is more gothic, passionless, and ecclesiastical, cannctbe denied—but this same quality, in as far as it is imitative, rendering the work rather one of combination and study than of original power, detracts from its merit. Productions in art take their standing through the force of invention which gave them birth; whatever has been once magnificently done cannot be repeated, and all works formed on acknowledged models and stylos bear a feeble existence.
Let us, in endeavouring to appreciate the Requiem, try to approach it from the composer's point of view. That the models of the severe church style are here in part superseded, is at once confessed. To have kept within the limits of custom and authority, would have been to have surrendered the opportunity; and, as all the later productions of Mozart—operas, symphonies, &c. —are memorable commencements in different styles of music, in which he, as pioneer of the art, opened paths of unexplored novelty and effect, he was naturally desirous to carry this on into church music. All his boyish studies in fugue and canon—all that art of counterpoint which had been growing stronger in him from year to year at Vienna, but which only broke out occasionally in his operas, being there held in subjection to melody and dramatic effect—flourished in the Requiem as in a fitting soil. Handel's art of double counterpoint is even outdone; we have the same depth of learning—the same elaborate contrivance, with more refinement and effect. As a fugal writer, Mozart was by nature so strong, that, had he lived in the time of Sebastian Bach, he might have been his rival. His part-writing shows the natural clearness of his mind, and profound insight into the problems of harmony. He knew his strength, and rejoiced in it.
At Vienna, Van Swieten and other patrons of Mozart carried the taste for Handel and Bach's counterpoint to the court; and the writings of Mozart at this period were greatly modified and influenced by these scientific predilections. He quitted now the method he had pursued in his Salzburg Masses, and sought out subjects which could be treated in double fugue, and inverted above or below according to the received methods. Hjsfirjt^acred production written at Vienna, David^e~Petiiieiiret^7^HYAis--this change, and the ascendancy oTTeStTrer} counterpoint. The opening chorus, if we remember, has subjects which invert three several times, and there is one duet wholly in canon.
The contrapuntal and profoundly scientific forms of the movements of the Requiem form a very striking feature of that production.   Had these, however, ex-
hibited merely new combinations of the old art of counterpoint, they would not have satisfied Mozart. He blended the severe old style with what was new and beautiful in the art of modern times, and made both in the highest degree subservient to expression. The melodies are so flowing and so natural, even when they move in canon, that the ear is unconscious of the restraint of rule. Hundreds receive delight from the symmetry which they perceive in the construction of the movements of the Requiem, who cannot trace the cause of their pleasure in the scientific forms of composition employed. One of the most wonderful qualities of Mozart's mind was certainly his power of fusion. He could melt the old into the new—he could be Handel or Bach at will, and show his own lineaments blended with theirs. The peculiar inBtj^manf. atioii of the Requiem, in \vhich solemn and sojnbce wind instruments alone are used, anords another interesting aspect"of""{Re 'science of the composer. But science and taste in combination merely contribute towards the poetical design. The Requiem may be considered as a kind of tragic drama, the action and scenery of which are left to the imagination. It combines the old church music, with the dramatic effect of the serious opera, and has introduced into music a perfectly new creation.
Requiem mternam and Fvgue Kyrie.
The,jsmrk.before us is pefiuliat.-ft^ifr-wspecjs the
instruments employed In it; no Masses by Mozart are sulTilarTy s^bTed^trte^^rle^try music in the Zmib$zfli&& alone has some affinity with the RequiemJ" The composer discards the whole tribe of acute wind instruments except trumpets, and these he employs chiefly in their lower and middle notes. There are no horns, To the usual four-voiced and stringed parts of his orchestra, he joins two basset-horns (tenor clarionets) in F," two bassoons, two trumpets and drums, and incidentally three trombones. Varying these in their combination, he continues through all the movements of the composition, whether grave, sweet, or majestic, with their aid alone. With such a plan for a Requiem
the bell, which is of metal,   Itgives Fin the place of C, zfo——
sounding a fifth lower. Mozart approved these instruments, and must have heard them well played, for though he introduced them only in iiis two last operas and the Requiem, he wrote for them from early youth. As in all instruments of the reed kind, the quality of the tone depends much on the art of the player. "When first heard in London at Billington's benefit at the Italian Opera, in LaClemenza di THn, the tone was not admired. Wiilman had, however, not yet appeared. He was an artist so accomplished, that though he introduced many varieties of the clarionet, be made whatever he played upon to he liked.
as he had matured,—with ideas so great and new, conjoining science and beauty, he needed not to travel far afield in search of effects. The medium of expression was simple, and ready at his hand—he decided what it should be, and required nothing more.
The beginnings of great works in music and poetry should correspond with their theme, and sound the true note of preparation for it. For a noble edifice we require a vestibule of due proportions, to elevate the mind and adapt it by degrees to the contemplation of grandeur. Yet the opening notes of a composition often cause such trouble and hesitation to the inventor, that we wonder, seeing them happily done, if any one in music ever followed the old maxim—begin at the beginning. An overture to an opera, like the preface to a book, Is written last, and- often the more successfully from the warmth and stimulus of previous composition.
The introduction to the Requiem is memorable on several accounts; the subject begins at once in the very first bar, apparently without studied preparation or a single superfluous note. The mournful cantabile commenced by the bassoons, and answered by the basset-horns in a short fugued passage of four parts, continued for six bars, announces the principal subject, afterwards taken up by the voices—" Requiem seter-nam." This prelude is one of the most remarkable beginnings in all music ; every hearer of sensibility feels its propriety ; it solemnizes the mind, and adapts it to receive what is to follow; yet the musician who can appreciate both the poetical and scientific character of such music, receives from it a double enjoyment.
To consider the composition in the former aspect, we should place ourselves in imagination in the choir of a catholic cathedral in which important funeral solemnities are about to commence. The time is night, or daylight is excluded. The eye wanders through the uncertain gloom cast by candle light in a vast building hung with the insignia of mourning; now resting on priests or their acolytes; now on the palled coffin ; or whatever of the solemn picturesqus among the crowd, may momentarily attract it. All is preparation, silence, and suspense. At length the music steals in so quietly, that this part of the service is hardly known to have begun :—
4
Vio. I, 2.
Corn I di Basset to. fag.
iv.
mozaet's keqtjiem.
How well the soft staccato notes of the stringed instruments bring out this mournful cantabile ! If we compare this introduction with that of Handel's Funeral Anthem for Queen Caroline, we shall find nothing to impeach the honor of Mozart: in the one there is, indeed, the opening of the idea, but in the other its full application, completion, and development. In composing dirges, and pieces consecrated to the memory of the dead, musicians long distant in their standing, seem to be led by instinctive feeling to choose the same melancholy chords and progressions. The last part ot Bateson's fine madrigal on the death of Queen Elizabeth, "In heaven lives Oriana," lias even a strong resemblance in its harmonies and progressions to the opening of Mozart's Requiem.
The forte which follows the quiet wind instrument symphony, is startling and tremendous. Three trom-boni usher in the voices, and then are silent for the rest of the movement.*
m-- -*--.-t—'--*-
mm
Coro. Tulti.
mm
Ite   -  -  quiem a; - ter - nam
* Mozart's sparing employment of the trombones, reminds us that the superfluity of brass is the standing abomination of mudem performance. Tlie sounds of these instruments, coarsely blown, even infest the streets of the West-end on summer evenings; while at out choral concerts, conductors seldom obey the literal directions of
The agitated and impassioned syncopated feature for the violins which appears in the second bar, produces an indescribable ef%;t. It gives a totally new character to what we had previously heard as a mild organ symphony in the old fugued style, f Without doubt this subject and its accompaniment formed the first thought of the Requiem, and the introductory symphony was constructed afterwards to lead to it. Here Mozart brought his modern dramatic experience and his powers as a symphonist into play ; he altered the old church music, and gave it the stamp of his individuality, yet without violence, All that can delight the ear in smoothness and elegance is combined with severe science and the poetry of design.
The constructive art employed in this remarkable introduction is so great, that the music deserves not only to be heard and enjoyed, but to be attentively studied. At the end of the cadence in B flat, " luceat eis," in which the voices subside to piano, an imitation of the first subject is introduced in the basaet-horns in the major mode for one bar of melodious symphony, and then the principal second subject, intended to work with the first in double counterpoint, makes its appearance, but first as a mere melody in the violins, doubled in octaves by the bassoons. Its destination is as yet a secret to the listener :—
Vio. 1, 2. Viola.
Viola col. Basso. "
Placing all considerations of the flowing beauty of this phrase apart, as already well appreciated, we may find pleasure not nearly exhausted in directing attention to the profound contrivance and purpose of the
the composer, hut set their trombones to play in unison with the voices. Their powerful tones help to keep the time of masses of singers, and to cover what is false in their intonation. Having engaged the players, it is thought best by directors " to pay them for playing, and not for resting;" hut the public ear loses by this familiarity, and there is no longer in the sounds of the trombone that awful and sepulchral character which it was wont to have when its peculiarities were reserved for special occasions.
t The gusto with which Spagnoletti and some players of his school used to perform these passages of accompaniment is still fresh in our recollection, and the pages of the Requiem recall the past like a gallery of historical portraits. We find the players of the present day greatly advanced in execution and power; but in the art of accompanying such music as this, there is a decided falling off. The loss of tlie " Ancient Concert," as a school of the traditions uf performance, will never be replaced.
musician. The subject in semiquavers in the major mode having first done duty aa a melody, inverted in the second violins becomes the accompaniment to the soprano solo, "Te decet hymnus," the answer is doubled in thirds in the viole and violoncelli—then in the same melody drawn closer, the first violin begins a canon which is replied to in contrary motion by the second violins and tenors, and at a bar distance by the violoncellos; the whole accompaniment forming a canon in four parts, which is so clear and rhythmical, that its effect is that of flowing simplicity. Not once is the music interrupted to make a parade of contrivance ; the severe ecclesiastical melody of the solo voice enters at stated and rhythmical periods, unimpeded by the flowing sounds of the accompaniments, which seem to wander " at their own sweet will," and to have nothing of art in them. The musician will be glad to revive the recollection of this passage, which begins precisely where our last quotation terminated:—
Vio. 1,2.
=1=
fee
mm
mm
nns De - us in Ši
This is a remarkable instance of the extension of a musical idea by means of counterpoint, in which science is directed by taste; yet still it indicates something better in reserve. When the subject begun in the major in the last quotation but one, is first heard, the expression is one of sweetness and dignity; but on resuming it in the minor, its character is changed ; it becomes mournful and plaintive in the highest degree. The.effect of this contrast should not be unobserved in examining the thoughtful mode in which the composer has worked out his design, heightening by degrees the interest of his passages, never repeating
mozaet's requiem.
V.
them without improvement, and holding hack his best ideas for the proper opportunity. The climax of this chorus is the last entrance of the principal subject, which is unexpectedly introduced by the basses in D minor, on an instrumental cadence in G minor; the moving subject first heard as a symphony now works with it in double counterpoint—as also the syncopated phrase for the violins. For this the composer thus prepares us :-
^Vio. I,
,______™ČÍE
Viola. P -%- -t I ComidiBassetlo. , _ 1
^col Basso.
em
"^•^-«LJ_ I, 2, col Violin). Bassi, ft ^
The plaintive notes of the first bassoon, now brought in half a bar earlier than before, and in the minor key, greatly enhance the expression, as is at once apparent to the musician. This is to prepare for the next bar, in which the three principal features are brought together:— _
™Dn - im T")n -  - i
Designing from the first to repeat this remarkable chorus as the termination of the work, it is certain that the author dwelt upon it with unusual pleasure as one of his best productions. It is found at the close with eighteen bars curtailed. His judgment in his own works as to what it would be desired to hear twice was unerring; and whenever in his instrumental quartets or quintets, we find signs of repetition in unexpected places, the music is sure to be distinguished. The second part of the first Allegro of the famous stringed quintet in G minor, is marked to be repeated on account of the elaborate beauty of the Coda.
Scarcely a thought appears in the introduction to the Requiem, which has not a double destination. The repetition of the soprano solo, " Te decet," as a canto
farmo for the treble chorus, with a new accompaniment for voices and instruments, is a splendid point, and of imposing grandeur:—
Treble. Alto.
Tenor. Bass.
Sä
' Ex - au - di. r*((i,bJ^    N ^ -*
Ttííif.Ex - au - dí,
mm
■ au - di,
The bow instruments here have no new employment; this kind of accompaniment is common to Handel, to Hasse, Jomelli, and others : what is to be admired is the preparation for the canto fetmo in the soprano part. We have directed attention to the thoughtful design of the author, in the hope that it may give to many a new interest in this music—but we must not miss Its poetry. The expression of solemnity, of grandeur, sweetness, and pathos, has never been so happily blended in any piece of church music. The fugue Kyrie Eleison, though a remarkably clear double fugue, falls short in interest of this most Mozartean introduction. Bach, Handel, Haydn, have all treated in various places the principal subject of the fugue, Kyrie Eleison :—
Christe e - le  -     - -
Alto.     "    N^#^7~ * - 0.
Bass. _ ->■■»• ' ~
Ky - ri-e  e-le-  - i-son, e - -
Towards the middle of the fugue, the second subject receives a chromatic alteration, which is very effective
—but in the main what is excellent in this work is common to the great masters. The orchestra doubles the voice parts, which preserves clearness and also the method of the old school. It is curious that in the last cadence, Adagio, the final chord is left without any third—a gothic combination, to' which the ear is with difficulty reconciled.
Dies Irce.   Tuba Mirum.
A composition of impetuous character, full of movement and agitation, entirely changing the style of the previous music, meets us at the second piece, "Dies iras." This is a symphonic chorus for voices and instruments, on the subject of the last judgment. The moment seized by Mozart for his unearthly and tremendous music-pain ting is when universal nature % dissolving, and mankind are trembling on the brink of their eternal destiny. The restless and constant motion of theorchestradepicts the distraction and confusion of the scene; and, intermingled with the instruments, the voices from time to time throw out wild cries of distress and exclamations of horror and despair.
It is remarkable, that notwithstanding music has so great a power in the expression of softness, gentleness, and beauty, nothing in it takes such hold of the imagination as a wild and fearful picture of this kind, struck off with a resolute pencil. We forget iu Don Giovanni all the voluptuous beauty of its melody, in the terrors of the supper scene in the last act; and in the Requiem, the grand and distinctive mark of the composition as a work of poetry, first stands out in the chorus " Dies irEe." Mozart owes nothing to his predecessors in this movement; no artifice of science, no elaborated plans of harmony, or premeditated subjects of counterpoint, lend their aid; the effect is modern, and his own, produced by simple means, and at a blow.
The concentration of force obtained in simplicity ts indeed often exemplified in the great effects of Handel's oratorios, as well as other precursors of the composer; but Mozart's advantage is so great in the orchestra, and in that peculiar career of modulation, which was in him a transcendent and overwhelming power, that in compositions of pure imagination begun without a model, he seems himself to have left a model to all times. The advanceof symphony music and orchestral effect, which depended upon him, and was the business of his life, gave redoubled energy to his choral inspirations. The trumpets and the violins do a different duty in his scores to those of other composers; the vigour and effect of the accompaniments often suspend the breath of the auditor in delight and admiration. And yet, in the midst of the most rapid and fiery invention, clearness andsimplicity prevail,—a thoughtful adaptation of means to  ends, comprehending the
ví.
Mozart's requiem.
minutest, as well as the largest things, distinguishes his music, and bids us know the master.
The simplicity and concentration of the parts in the opening of the "Dies ins," are adapted to a great effect. The voices all speak together, and on vibrating sonorous notes:—
Allegro assai. _
Incessant vigorous motion of the instruments, combined with dramatic exclamations of the chorus, give a modern orchestral character to this piece, and show plainly a hand practised in the greatest effects of the Opera and Symphony. The rapid and bold modulations have a poetical agitation and fury which have never been attained even in the musical drama; we are placed as it were in the midst of the torrent and whirlwind of sound. The change from the dominant of D minor to F, on the words "Quantus tremor est futurus," is of tremendous energy :—
When these words come over again after "Teste David cum Sybilla," the modulation is more startling still, and the interest of the hearer is augmented. We are hurried on breathlessly from the dominant of A minor to C minor; music has no more surprising change, aided as this is by the rapidity of the movement. The passage is introduced by a progression in A minor :—
Tes- te    Da - vid
- byl - la.
5     9 Bassi.
following which, occurs this intervening bar of syn phony, and then the voices with startling abruptnes enter on the chord of C minor:—
^Vio. I.
Vio. 2—■ Corni di Bas set to.
All the changes and bursts of extraordinary forte. There is not throughout; the music The same words are agi of the Basses, and from character of a double and uniting:—
contrasts are produced by the chords, and not by piano and a single indication of piano begins loud and continues so. lin uttered in a powerful unison this place the music takes the chorus, the choirs separating
"ST*
E* Etc?
Quan-tus tre-c di
n- est fu - tu-ms.
ii - :
:   8 * gS — Í   ■   i '■
"J-
This portentous dramatic exclamation is repeated three times. On the last occasion the Basses remain on B flat, and their phrase is harmonized and imitated by all the voices. This is the highest effect of terror in the chorus—the earth itself seems to shake in the sounds of this grand and original passage :—
Treble. Alto.
Tenor.
Quan-tus tre-mor est fu Altogether this composition may be looked upon as an opening in that new department of symphony music, choral and instrumental,—dramatic yet leaving the drama to the imagination,—which Beethoven and Hector Berlioz have successfully brought before modern hearers. It is a species of composition in which the voices are powerful accessories, not always principal agents. They utter the text, and stamp the scene with fidelity on the mind, but the agitation and terror expressed in the picture are mainly the work of the orchestra. As the opera of the day seems pretty well exhausted, and little in it commands attention, except it be served up in the most luxurious style of dress and decoration, it will be well for music if dramatic effect should hereafter be chiefly absorbed by the choral symphony, which is a nearly untrodden and a great field of music. The more audiences learn to exert imagination in listening, unassisted by the material appliances of the scene, the better it will be for music, wnich might be cultivated magnificently at less than half the expense entailed upon it when burthened with the heavy responsibilities of the theatre.
It is a prejudice scarcely yet obsolete, that voices whenever used with instruments should always be principal. This was formerly a main article of the musical creed of the Italians. It astonished and offended them that Mozart used voices to accompany; yet employing them often in this capacity, he enlarged
the scope of vocal effects, and greatly extended the powers of both voices and instruments. The practice of composers up to the present day confirms the justice of his views, and the principles of musical effect which he established. Mozart's short career seems even less wonderful in respect to the number and quality of his works, than in regard to their after Influence on styles of music, and this we are now beginning fully to comprehend.* The "Tuba Mirum" is a composition which has been censured by a late German critic as partly too secular in its style. This music is eminently the music of imagination, and it must be judged in the spirit in which it was conceived. From the chorus in D minor, rapid in movement and expressing alarm and agitation, we enter upon an Andante in B flat, which is a series of solos ending in a quartett: the Bass introduced by a trombone solo, of tremendous and awful
character:— „ '   —, —
Fag.   fi   B*. 1 ■ « +._m_Solo. J    * =z !
SEE
Solo.
Tu-ba minim spargens so -the Tenor solo in F minor and the Alto soloin D minor pathetic, and the Soprano solo in B flat of singular sweetness; its melody being most grateful to the ear from contrast with what has preceded. The gradations by which this change of expression is achieved show the profoundest art. The ear is prepared for every change by fine degrees, and arrives at length at the consi*nmate elegance of melody. The air begun by the Soprano, is shadowed forth in the bassoon accompaniment to the first Bass solo ; and this cavta-bile might have been too pleasing and tuneful for the occasion, had not the great intervals, and the solemn declamation of the Bass voice, preserved the majesty of the passage :—
1—f    ! " 7 'ft i
i    r   i __ i
8* >T'~..    TT". I -J-«~.rTu
* r.noktn
Tu   -    ha mi-rum epar-gens
e more o
chestral score of the " Dies ir;e," it occurs to us that the drums are the oil!) instrument which Mozart has written for in a in me what old-fashioned conventional maimer. In other portions of the Rw[>ii?m, and in the slow opening of the oveiture to Don Giovanni, they are displayed with prominency and happy effect; but, (lenerally speaking, the poetry of the instmmtnt could tint have greatly occupied his mind, or he would have created in his compositions occasiuns to display it. The greatest effects of the drums m modem times have oeen heard in passages sotto voce
mozart s heqiiiem.
Notwithstanding the accompanying melody, the entire effect is extremely solemn, and the distant intervals, the octaves and tenths, in which the Bass voice pursues its course at "per sepulchra, regionnm," are sublimely imagined as though addressing the assembled world.
The Tenor solo has a tearful and penitential character, and the bassoon plays a great part in it in holding notes. The solo is particularly admirable from the change to G minor to the end:—
ber sci'iptus pro-fe - re - tur
i
A singular and delicate effect is produced by the sustained notes of the bassoon in the most effective part of its scale. In song passages this instrument rarely tells, except the melody be doubled above by higher instruments—flute, clarionet or oboe, or violins,—but in holding notes in the orchestra its powers are universally acknowledged. In this instance it balances the middle part of the harmony, and brings out the expressive appoggiature of the voice part, which would else be wanting.
The accompaniments to the Alto and Soprano solos are thin, being by the stringed instruments alone in iterated notes, probably in anticipation of the rich and beautiful cadence which is to come. From time to time we observe traces of the composer's last labours. In the " Dies irje " we were reminded of passages in the grand aria of the Queen of Night, in the Zauberjlate ; here a little middle phrase brings back the first duet in La Cfcmewza di Tito. The two violins fill up the remnant of a bar, and then lead to a little broken melody, which expresses trepidation and uncertainty in a most remarkable and original manner. The voice seems unable Io proceed, but the instruments go on, and then it joins in with them again :—
o the Ft
Ii tlltfel
with cu
;rcke itmira tempo eiichütz, and the ■«nt keys, in some ; i is descrihed by tlii
the
effect of
duced, and ir opportunities
piessiou nothing can replace them ; and when, as in the slaw mi mem «f the >.ymprioTiy in Bf? of Be-tlioven, they suddenly uk< the notes of the subject pianissimo, the hearer is delighted at on the most delicate and happily-imagined effects of the orchestra.
nd comliiiia.tl.ins— such as the traduction to the second act of ", in the opening of the ovcr-
of the Requiem ofBerlioz, the lin have heard it as like distant and effects, drums well intro-acter, still mark the greatest of a dark and mysterious ex-
up
These wavering and hesitating notes perfectly express the thought, " cum vix Justus sit securus ;'' there is also a religious and confiding expression, gathering strength as it proceeds, which mingles with tlie dramatic effect, and produces one of the most original and beautiful passages in all music:—
-1--JT
«3
This has been blamed; but certainly they cannot be very well read in the meaning of sounds, who call it operatic.   Such music cannot be classed under any of
viii.
mozaet's requiem.
the known styles, sacred or secular, nor is it an echo of anythingwhich Mozart has elsewhere done. It is a peculiar inspiration of the composer, adapted to its place in the Requiem, and no other : it expresses in music a pious rapture and a confidence in death, in the same spirit in which old Catholic painters have 3ho\vn us saints in the ecstasy of celestial vision. The whole passage should be carefully read. In the concluding cadence, the voices, first loud, then soft, then gathering strength in a crescendo, and ending loud, produce the effect of a blaze of light in painting. The poetry of the thing is an attempt to open heaven in sounds; and the sweetness of the melody is celestial.
The musician who analyzes the passage will discover melodious phrases of great length and unusual rhythm, a blending of voices and instruments wholly new, harmonies and appoggiature the most expressive—altogether the finished work of genius. Even the last lingering sounds have a beauty of their own, and the ear subsides unwillingly into silence :—
Viola. Basso.
Pi
m
Rex TremendcB.   Recordare. Confatatis.
In the chorus "Rex tremendse," Mozart has so wrought up the feeling of awe and terror with which this scene of the last judgment inspired him, that the hearer becomes subdued; he feels, under the lofty magnificence of the sounds, a sense only of feebleness and nothingness. The words of this piece ending " Salva me fons pietatis " are in reality a prayer, and might with propriety have been expressed as a prayer in music; but the first exclamation gave the opportunity for a music painting : it was asubjectfor sounds which might he treated in the bold and poetic style of a Milton or a Michael Angelo, and he seized it accordingly.
If this movement be heard out of its place, the mind should be prepared for it by some solemn preface, for in the course of a few bars we are in the midst of such serious and mortal considerations, that no effect so great in music was ever so rapidly accomplished, or by such means.*   Almost every hearer has admired,
e Although the Requiem is excellent for choral concerts, and the " Rex tremendee" has been for thirty years past the chief extract at our Festivals, the original destination of the work as a part of the Catholic service ought not to be overlooked. In chu reh performance the pauses for prayers. &c, occur at the end of the Kyrie, the end of the Lacrymosa, the Offertory, the Sanctua, after which the music proceeds to its conclusion. The knowledge of these main divisions throws a light on Mozart's design; and it is easy to perceive how tne work, as a Service, must gain by them.
in a general way, the grand declamation and lofty conception of this composition ; even its science is so clear that it looks like simplicity; but the musician who traces results by leisurely and contemplative reading, as well as under the immediate impression of effects, sees that even Mozart, so famous for concentrating his power in short Adagios, never excelled this one; and that the scientific part may, among the majority of listeners, be still more enjoyed by being better understood.
It would not have done in this place to produce a long movement; the style could neither be entirely dramatic, nor wholly scientific : a blending was required ; the feeling of dread was to be powerful and transient, produced by a strong concentrated effort, which, like the explosion of a thunder-cloud, leaves the wayfarer in alarm and astonishment. The beginning of this chorus, accordingly, elevates the mind, excites attention, and prepares the ear. It consists of dramatic exclamations, brought in with regularity on the second of the bar, at the termination ot the cadence of the stringed orchestra, which accompanies in unison. There is an originality and grandeur of idea even in this disposition of the parts. Two bars of symphony of nearly the same notes precede this entrance of the chorus:—
		
Ctiorus. * —		
	m—	-------—P
f j		
	iEEEfe	
Rex
Expectation is greatly raised by this introduction, which is in a time so slow that every quaver bears an accent. That such a passage cannot be continued long is felt at once, and we naturally wonder what is to come : the climax is heard in two or three chords for voices, and the wind instruments :—
Rex tremen -dfe ma -jea - ta - tis. Now follows the scientific thought, multitudinous and vast in suggestion, which Mozart had in reserve. The alto begins one canon, which is answered in the fourth above by the soprano; and the tenor another, which is replied to in the fifth below by the bass. Besides this double canon, the stringed instruments in four parts are canonical in their motion, and we have thus m movement eight real parts:
Vio. l. Vio. 2.
Qui ... sal - van -<
■-•V t   _~    -.*** *-*'"-*
t Though the imitation is direct, beginning in the violins i fourth crotchet of the bar, yet, from the length of the passu its peculiar structure, the effect produced is that ot contrary n by which the music greatly gains.
mozart's requiem.
ix.
The hasis of this progression is a sequence of sevenths. At every half bar after the opening, it gives a new variety of that welcome harmony : now a seventh with minor third, now a dominant seventh, &c. This is the first form of the canon ; the second time it is inverted: the subject of the alto and soprano is taken by the tenor and bass, and their former parts are now placed above.   Agreeably to that principle of Mozart's com-
fiosition, which reserves the greatest effects for the ast, the suspensions of sevenths now fall to men's voices, and are held on their best and most powerful notes:—
Rextre-men   -    -   da?  ma-jes-ta -Tenor.       >   ^ " '^='1<> 0.
Rex tie - men         -   da; majes - ta -
The basset-homs and the bassoons double the voice parts, but the independence of the vocal chorus on the stringed orchestra is almost complete, and produces an immense richness and volume of harmony.
At a half close on the dominant of D minor, the majestic expression of the chorus terminates, and the music assumes a character of simplicity and supplication. The same feature of violin accompaniment is preserved; but, with a new bowing, it is transformed into a symphonic passage of sweetness and elegance. Many a reader will revive a pleasing emotion at the sight of the Mozartean phrase :—
The final cadence for all the voices piano, with its memorable flat G in the tenor part, ends in D minor, out of the original key, probably with a view to the commencement of the next movement in F.
As an instance of the sublime, produced by uniting the simplest and most complex effects of musical science in rare conjunction, the "Rex tremendse" is unsurpassed. It reminds of Handel, because of its sequence of sevenths, and also of a motion of the bow instruments, much employed in old oratorio music. But this is accidental; the construction is really quite original. To have condensed into a few bars of double canon such a vast idea as the subject embraces—to have led up to it with art, and disposed of it briefly and effectually,—is the triumph of the composer.
The "Recordare" is a quartett which stands alone Though its theme is scientific, it is relieved by the most flowing air in the accompaniments; the expression of the voice parts is pathetic ; and in the cadences there is a peculiar—angelical-—melody, which no other epithet will describe. The canons here are numerous. First, a canon in the second for the basset-horns, with accompaniment for violoncclli:—
When this symphony reaches a cadence on the dominant, the two violins begin a canon in the unison, on a pedal bass, founded on the accompanying notes of the violoncello. Science aids the musical effect of one of the most beautiful introductions ever c
On the first entrance of the voice parts, both these subjects are inverted. The canon in the second becomes canon in the seventh, which is its inversion; the bass is likewise turned backwards:—
Re
- da
ms
La -—- Ud
The answer to this subject, by the soprano and tenor, presents the two canons for the voices and stringed instruments brought together. Learned counterpoint then gives way to a passage of expression profoundly sorrowful and imploring. This passage occurs three times, in different keys, in the course of the composition, and each time it appears more and more religious and affecting :—
ne me per -  - das
Tenor. Bass.
__ti «J
per
All the voices here have expressive melody, and contribute fine dispersions of harmony ; but the beautiful alto part which enters at the next bar, the diminished octave in the soprano on the F sharp in the bass, and the final cadence of the same part, belong to music so exalted, that it has ever been held sacred from imitation. Composers leave it at a distance, with reverence, as a monument of their chief and leader.
Between the passages of this composition, which require intent listening, the ear has intervals of melodious repose. Of this kind are the bass and tenor solos, " Qua^rens me," &c. ; still counterpoint, which gave the first impression of the movement, maintains its
X.
mozart s requiem.
ascendancy. The following sequence, in which the voices imitate by contrary motion, is in ten real parts —the bassoons doubling the bass and second violin are not reckoned ;—
A surprising effect is always created in the performance of these numerous and flowing parts, through their clearness and symmetry. At the close in D minor there is a change to B flat, in two bars of the most elegant construction. It was a little thing to Mozart, but is always welcomed by musicians :—
-f—I" r»-S—-
The first canon now goes on in B flat, with a new accompaniment for the violoncelli and tenors, and fresh effect from contrast of key. The chords for voices at " Ingemisco tanquam reus," are dictated by the penitential text. They carry the modulation back towards the original key, and introduce with advantage the two little solo phrases of soprano and tenor, which are gems of expression In the pathetic style. The tenor solo coming after the cadence of the soprano in A minor, one note lower, has an exquisite character of tenderness and sorrow—
Kt   la - tro - nem  ex - au - dis - ti
and the four voices joining by degrees, expressing hope in a crescendo on the words " Mihi quoque spem dedisti," form a truthful and beautiful conception. There remains only to notice the final cadence—canonical by simitar motion in the alto and tenor parts, and by contrary motion in the bass.    A more melodious
quartett passage cannot be pointed out in all music; it breathes calmness and repose—the very spirit of the text :—
Sta   -   tu - ens      in      par   -   - -
- te   dex  -  - tra.
After all, the effect of this movement, that which dwells upon the memory, is its expression—abstracted, pure, celestial. In this respect, the " Recordare " i&, in sacred music, a model of unapproachable excellence. We forget its art, though melodies and scientific combinations in such profusion, combined with such exquisite delicacy of treatment, transcend theusual work of Mozart himself, and denote his circumstances in composing—the excitement of approaching death, and a mental visionalready " commercing with the skies." Had he died without writing the " Recordare," music would have wanted one of the most powerful traits of the individuality of its author.
The "Confutatis" is a symphonic piece, and he-longs, like the " Dies irje," to the wild music of the imagination, rather than to any recognized scientific structure. The accents of demons and angels are brought before us in the contrasted effects of a double chorus—tenors and basses answered by sopranos and altos. There is fearful and savage meaning in the unison of the stringed instruments :— Andante.
7 Con-fu-ta-tis.
AÉÉÉÉ
Mozart must have conceived this idea somewhat in the mood of Raphael when painting his ferocious soldiers in the " Massacre of the Innocents." Nothing
common is admitted into this movement, not even in the modulation of a little connecting passage. This progression from the dominant of A minor to C, introducing the choir of sopranos and altos, has remained unused since Mozart's day :—■
A corresponding passage leading to A minor, when the trebles and altos enter a second time, is still more effective. But the finest part of this piece is the solemn prayer at the end, where all the voices join. We realize the effect of the soft chords of wind instruments and the agitated accompaniment:— _
Minimi
Chorus. <p
—b* 2<.*Z5\ — -g=: ~=m=n _a--=«=r|::i^- _
This passage of enharmonic relation, at every cadence deceiving tlie ear, would never be truthfully intoned by any cliorus, but for the help of the wind instruments which Mozart has provided. The changes of harmonv are mysterious and awful. An expiring prayer—the contrition of the catholic penitent with head in the dust, is expressed in suitable language—''Oro supplex et acclinis."
mozart s requiem.
Lacryinosa.   Domine Jesu.
Lacrymosa is a chorus of poetical design, r, in its softer features a voluptuous elegance and beauty of melody which might be too secular for a requiem, were this feeling not subdued by other passages— solemn and awe-inspiring. The sighs of the first violin in the opening symphony, have a sentimental and dramatic character; and the luxurious grief expressed brings to mind the conceptions of some of the old Italian painters in their representations of the Magdalen. Such an opening as the following does not speak in the severity of religious music; it gives utterance rather to the passions and feelings of this world, in accents of tender regret and languishment:—
j Larghetto.
i r 1   r ^
An introduction so delicate and beautiful, might have been expanded by the composer into one of his best quartett movements for violins. But it scarcely prepares us for the awful subject of the poem—a guilty world coming out of ashes to meet its judge. The chorus enters after two bars in the same sweet melancholic strain. The filling up on the fourth of the bar by the two notes of the first violin, is beautifully conceived:—
The poetical idea which animates this movement, expresses two feelings widely opposed — the soul, trembling and distracted, hovers between affection and fear; and by turns one and the other bear sway. In such contrast of the feelings and emotions of the mind, Mozart found the key to the various effects of hia beautiful music ; he delighted to bring the most opposite elements into one harmony, and to set off the
expression of one part by that of another. As in the drama his genius became fruitful in musical ideas, through sympathy with and meditation on the passions and emotions of humanity, so in sacred music the thought of man in his extremity suggested to him music of two characters,—the one sweet and affectionate—the other dreadful and majestic,-—contrasting feelings which relate to this world and the next.
The chorus twice repeats the phrase Lacrymosa, quoted above, and then the connected melody stops. The singers falter on broken and interrupted notes, as if seized with astonishment and fear; and this effort at description in sound gives rise to a noble orchestral passage:—
Qua re -   -  sur -  - get
nJ-,JN
£53=
i
What would be unpleasantly abrupt in the effect of the broken chords of the voices, is relieved by the holding notes of the brass and other wind instruments; and so from piano to crescendo the thought proceeds, till voices and wind instruments both holding on, increasing at every step in power, and joined at last by trumpets and drums, end in a grand climax, on the words—-judicandus homo reus.
The majestic features of the movement are immense in their force and originality. This march of the bass voicesj for instance, by octaves and semitones :—
Qua re - sur-get   ex   fa -vil - la - ju - di-candus,
may challenge anything in choral music to discover its parallel. A bold and unexpected change of harmony is here introduced; the J on A in the preceding bar remaining unresolved, we pass at once from D minor to E flat.   Considering this progression in its
poetic character, a gradual increase in the expression of fear and dread will be observed—as though the notes accompanied the firm-planted advancing footsteps of some terrible presence. Of kindred meaning and design is the music of the Commendatore in the terror-moving second finale of Don Giovanni. After the agitation inspired by these sounds, the ear eagerly receives the soft holding notes of the prayer, Huic ergo parte Deus, with its beautiful but secular cadence, which seems to cast an expiring glance at the world and its pleasures:—
Treble. Alto.
X:V;V;^ • J > im J £ i
■n:    „    T„   _„ T-   _.. j)Q   _ mi_nc
i  Je-SU, Je-
There is a tone of melancholy farewell about this cadence, as if it exhaled the last breath of human passion; the music which follows is wholly that of a requiem : religious, severe, abstracted—a solemn service for the dead. The melodious idea is, however, too voluptuous and charming to have no response ; it is therefore taken up and re-echoed by the instruments. But this time there is a change in its character : the sweetness of the human voice is absent, and the Tromboni mingle with the symphony their sepulchral tones. Whenever these instruments have parts of prominence, either in a solo or accompaniment, they are employed by Mozart to temper the music with a degree of severity. The following symphony begins with the concluding note of the last extract; and the entrance of the trombones is finely conceived. Some of us can hear them with the eye :—
xii.
Mozart's requiem.
The conclusion, Dona eis requiem, subsides in a strain of monastic gloom that tells of the consummation of mortal life. But even to the very last church cadence, the composer keeps up incessantly the agitated movement of the first violins—a dramatic accompaniment expressing the shortened breath and irregular impulses of passionate grief, even tears and sighs :—
Tenor.
The roll of drums in this cadence, though conventionally employed, has, by its position, a great effect. The reverberation dying away in distant echoes, leaves silence itself eloquent and impressive. Music is certainly a form of poetry wonderfully straight and direct of purpose. Wherever we may hear these two ecclesiastical chords intoned—be it even in the warm and lighted music room, with familiar friends—we are placed in a cathedral, amidst its gloomy associations and images of death and silence. The chords, indeed, are but the consecrated commonplaces employed in church music for ages; yet, well introduced, they always excite emotions of awe, expressing to the ear what the long vista of cloisters, or the antique form of the gothic arch, addresses to the eye : each in its own mute language solemnizes the feelings, and leads the thoughts into a track of seriousness.
The Lacrymosa is not a movement whose plan cost its author much deliberation. Without any attempt at premeditated contrapuntal science, it is the mere simple
inspiration of poetry rapidly conceived and as rapidly executed. A two-fold expression combines in it to form a composition, which, though not church music in the conventional acceptation, is yet more touching and profound from the bold opposition of life and death which the poet-composer found necessary to employ for the production of his effects. It appeals to human sensibilities and the things which "come home to the bosoms and business of men," and through these, and not through any cold formula or established process, reaches the sacred and sublime. Mozart had but to remove the scene from the mimic stage to that of real life, to surpass all he had before done, for now his dramatic powers found a subject of larger scope and higher accomplishment. None certainly was ever better adapted to the cast of his genius than that of the Requiem.
The introduction commencing on the words, Domine Jesu Ckriste, followed by the fugue accompanied, Quam olim Abrah(E, is one of the greatest portions of the work, though written for the most part within the sober limits of the church style, and only occasionally admitting poetic extravagance and licence in the interpretation of the text. The chorus begins in the unpretending manner of a sacred motet, and what is to follow is little suspected :—
- mi-ne Je ■
Chris
Treble. Alto.
spleti
f Do - mi-ne Je -
Notwithstanding the simplicity, approaching even a conventional character, of this opening, the music is rich in effects and contrasts which are evident suggestions of the text. The composer is strongly under the dominion of the poetry, as the music employed in the passages referring to "the profound lake," " the jaws of the lion," " the swallowing up in Tartarus," &c, testifies; and yet he has contrived to give to each image its characteristic expression, without transgressing the boundaries of such a design as the highes't standard of church music would authorize. Effects and progressions of the most interesting kind follow each other in rich succession. The imitation by contrary motion in the following clear movement of four parts, has been continually repeated by musicians since Mozart's time. It is probable that the words Libera anitnas gave birth to the thought:—
Li  -   -   bera a-ni-mas om  -  niitm fi -
"* Bass. Li-be-ra a - nimas   om-ni- umfi-de    - li
The Catholic faith in purgatory certainly suggested the idea contained in our next extract. This is preceded by a sudden modulation from the dominant of G minor to B flat, in which the composer reproduced one of those changes which we have before heard in the Queen of Night's bravura in the Zauberfldfe, and in the Dies Ira of this work—now, however, it is given with novelty and interesting syncopation in the second violin. In this manner Mozart employed his favorite thoughts, not bidding adieu to them at once, but reviving them in fresh forms, and laying them under new contribution. Thus the phrase of an opera song sometimes lends him an idea for the slow movement of a symphony.  The words prompt the music
Vio. 1. Vio. 2.
Treble. Alto.
	--—		-n_-_—
-  - fer 1 , ,- *	" " r .»-  J- .	r	s ni 1
fete=	—__m^r.		
f De	\        V ř pee  -  nis in	for - -	ni
<@§?£Í=3=		•-^	
MOZAItT'S REQUIEM.
And so also in the following mysterious and original passage, in which the third in the alto turned into a discord by suspension, and the resolution upwards in the next bar, create surprising effect:—
Et de pro-fun-do        la     - cu ' 1
Treble. Alto.
Etde pro-fun-do la - - cu After this cadence in C minor, we are led by a course of symmetrical modulations to a most magnificent point on the words, ne absorbeai eas Tartarus, The subject is first heard in its full extent from the tenors; it is then taken up by the altos, and imitated in fragments by the tenors ; lastly, the sopranos and basses have it, and join in an excellent declamation of the words, though the voices are all independent, and enter at different parts of the bar. The stringed instruments in unison give concentrated force and energy to this glorious feat of counterpoint:—
---»_•___
Tar - ta-rus ne    ea -dant in ob
The unprepared discords in the voice parts—the soprano entering at once on a major seventh—render this example of writing of great authority and value to the musician. Mozart's theory of preparation seems to be that the same sound as the discord, being heard in any part of the octave, justifies it. The choral part ceases with an idea of the " palpable obscure," finely expressed in sound :—
in   ob - scu   - rum,
Ete
Solo parts led off by the soprano, and taken up by the other voices till they join in a quartett, continue the music for the purpose of giving, by contrast, greater splendour to the first eruption of the magnificent chorus, Quam olim Abrahes. The twelve bars beginning Sed signifer are eminently deserving of study and observation. Their subject is that of the opening " Domine Jesu," combined with a fragment of the "libera," taken as a point of imitation. When the tenor point enters in F minor, it is difficult to anticipate the art by which the composer winds about to a half cadence on the dominant of G minor; yet there we find ourselves, with the beautiful passage of counterpoint at libera animas, before quoted, re-introduced, and forming the cadence. Then follows one of the greatest achievements in choral music—the sublime chorus, " Quam olim." This is a double fugue of four independent parts for voices, accompanied by the stringed orchestra chiefly in three. The wind instruments are duplicates of the voices. Grandeur of declamation, profound counterpoint, expressive melodies, and a peculiar passion in the harmonies and imitations, render this the greatest of Mozart's fugal choruses. The composer sets off in four parts for the instruments:—
Vio. l. Vio. 2.
m
m
Tutu. Quam o-lim    A - brahas
I—a rj J~~n -~2-
=3
(gZfc:
as
maintaining this phrase of imitative accompaniment throughout, even in the soft passages of melodious contrast. The second subject, " et semini ejus," has a most vigorous character ; it inverts with the first, springing out in all places unexpectedly, like the
flames of a vast conflagration. Passion and enthusiasm animate this wonderful chorus. The pedal point, the cadences, the soft intermediate passages, down to the suspended ninth in the tenor (last bar but one), are full of power and beauty. After the thunders of voices and instruments, what pleasure for the ear is this delicious inter-mezzo, in eight distinct parts :—
Vi-i. 1. Vio. 2.
n.
There was evidently much cogitation and constructive power at work before this movement was completed. Mozart knew that even the hearer would want after it some repose and leisure to admire. The next piece, Ilosiias, the plainest and simplest of the whole composition, accordingly affords the opportunity. Ending by a suitable modulation out of the key, " Quam olim " is repeated—and it thus forms a kind of landing-place from which at ease and with enjoyment we may witness the tumultuous agitation and impassioned vehemence of the great chorus, not inaptly to be compared to a wild and stormy ocean.
mozaät's requiem.
Ilcstias.   Sanctus.  Benedictus.  Agnus Dei.
It is difficult to resist the wish to notice "what has been said against this work ; and before proceeding to the Sanctus, it may be well to observe that the passage in the Hostias, beginning—
Ho  -   -  sti - as       et pre  -     •   ces • j,   j ^-J*L0>l^J ___^_
followed by several bars of similar construction, has been censured by the late M. Gotfried Weber for its unmeaning alternation of high and low, loud and soft. People judge of the sentiments conveyed by sounds according to their degree of imagination ; and to musicians it often happens that however well versed in the theory and practice of their art, they are led into serious errors through want of sympathy with the ideal,—a quality of composition not amenable to rule and precedent.*
With regard to the passage, "Hostias et preces," what is exclamatory and what is suppliant in it, point to its meaning very intelligibly as that of prayerful petition, and deny its example of the senseless opposition of sounds, "high and low," by turns, of which the composer has been accused. However, if it be contended that the splendour of Mozart is greatly subdued in the Hostias, it will be readily granted, for certainly it is the least important part of his work, being only intended to relax the incessant attention demanded by the rest of the music ; and as the more sober and dull tints in the colouring of a good picture heighten the effect of what is bright and attractive in it, so this movement aids the design of the composer. Neither poets nor musicians can be always on the wing—nor could mortal readers and listeners accom-
* The wrong1 inflicted on composers, by misinterpreting their poetiy, is common on the first appearance of the most excellent works, when the best things are often set downas bad, and the most solemn sometimes raise a laugh—as is known to have happened in the Agnus Dei of Beethoven's Mass in C, where the words Miserere being to he repeated rather fast, have had their import and poetical meaning quite misunderstood. The idea in the mind of the composer was clearly that of prayer, or eager entreaty uttered in low and scarcely articulate sounds ; so understood, it is the proper language of humiliation and contrition, and of an effect highly religious, But vulvar associations of the comic kind always accompanying words quickly reiterated—this line passage has, at a first trial, been gene-Tally received as extremely eccentric, if not somewhat ridiculous. Yet whoever ventures to enlarge the contracted boundaries of sacred music by hold and original conceptions, should not have his innovations too hastily condemned as heresy; for a thought truthfully imagined is sure to make its way, however opposed for a time by narrow and conventional opinion.
pany them if they were. However, though there is not much melody in the Hostias, save in the beautiful opening bars of the chorus, the composer does not sink into insipidity of style. The ear is kept alive by effects, and modulations of a very surprising character. This, for instance, from C to D minor—easy in a commonplace way, but here lengthened out and enriched by art:—
tu SU3 - ci - pe pro a - ni -_j_r^_|---?S--i-^^i--1-j-
Tenor. Bass.
ci - pc pro -   bus       il -   - 1Í3.
- ma - - bus il - - lis. Also the following progression from D minor to E flat, in which the chord of the extreme sharp sixth on C flat, with its root above held on by the sopranos, appears in a new position, and with a most unusual resolution:—
Qua - rum     ho - di - e.
Treble. Alto.
Tenor. Bass.
m
-v-
Qua - rum     ho - di -ho  -  di - e    me - mo  -   ri - am, -Is    J ^ J
J> J.
ho
di - t
These successions of harmony contained in their day new ideas, and they still disclose a bold and summary treatment of chords, of which a great master could alone sustain the responsibility. Although the research of curious modulation and enharmonic har-
mony has been prosecuted in our time to a fault, to conceal a want of invention, and the poverty of real ideas, these modulations, in their place in the Requiem, continue to please, for 110 composer has borrowed them who had the same aptitude to place them in the right light, as the original author.
We now reach the Sanctus, commencing with a short Adagio of ten bars, for which the composer summoned all his powers. So frequently as this subject had been set to music by Mozart—at least thirty or forty times in the course of his life—he renewed himself for this last effort with a vigour and grandeur worthy of the occasion. There is not throughout music a more splendid example of the great church style. The symmetrical disposition of the parts in the opening will remind many a reader of his pleasure in this music ; and a very effective and prominent feature for the drums {timpani) will be noticed, which proves that even in regard to the modern development of this instrument Mozart kept improving to the last days of his life:—
Vio. 1. Vio. 2. Viola.
MOZART'S REQUIEM.
As the trumpets, bassoons, and basset-horns double the voices, they may be imagined in order to complete the grandeur of the score, which will then have its full complement of parts. These bars exhibit in a striking manner the effective order of a great choral-instrumental piece ; diversity of movement and distinct but symmetrical features in choir and orchestra resulting in perfect unity. Of a composer able to write in this way, it has been well said—"he thinks in score." Mozart considered it essential to orchestral music that the composer should see both the parts of his work and the whole of it at once; composition with him was not to be painted up bit by bit, one thought helping another. Without desiring any limitation to individual powers, or the process of mind by which the pleasures of music may be augmented, the most precious quality of the composer still remains clearness and simplicity, the unfailing accompaniments of greatness. In music as in poetry, it is not monstrous novelties which please, but natural and even familiar things displayed in a new and surprising manner.
Often has the musician endeavoured to d.scover what it might be in this opening of the Sanctus that so elevates the soul with emotions of the sublime; for the progression of the harmony has become well known, and familiar enough to be termed common-place. The old Greek proverb, "Rhythm moves the world," seems to indicate the source of pleasure. Three kinds of motion in the instruments are combined with a vocal phrase of extreme simplicity. The ear is first attracted by the continued and ponderous movement of the double-basses, and with the rush of the drums to end on the third and fifth quaver of the bar (a feature of genius in the instrumentation, which, had it been the conventional tremolo, would have possessed neither genius nor effect); lhe contrast of this complex division of time with the simple itersited notes for the violins and tenors which fill the latter half of the bar—the
voices entering in chords of melodious relation to each other, and each time with increasing interest—these are the individual features of a grand and sublime strain of sacred harmony which owes its most powerful operation to rhythm. What is long in description is short in the immediate effect of sounds. When the ohorus has swelled to a climax, and the sound has died away on the word " Sabaoth," the Cft of the basses, intoned in powerful unison on the words " pleni sunt coeli," signalize another stroke of genius—the sublime of a single note. It is impossible to imagine the loftiest theme of sacred music treated with higher amplitude and gusto; Purcell and Handel might have uplifted their hands in delight at something in their own way:—___
Organs, trumpets, drums—in fact, the whole artillery of sound—is wanted when the chord bursts in on the Oft, and the bass is unexpectedly turned into a minor ninth on the root of the harmony. Extremely fine, also, is the passage in continuation, the A$ in the bass, on the word " gloria," and the suspended major seventh in the soprano in the same bar—notes which we name to enjoy in imagination the sympathy
of the reader. The Masses Nos. 1 and 2 contain majestic examples of the Sanctus; but this one transcends everything, and is evidently the fruit of matured experience.
The Osanna, a fughetta, Allegro, \, of cheerful character and clear part-writing, relieves for a space the mournful character of the work. This movement appears twice : first in D, after the Sanctus, and again in B flat, after the Benedictus; but it is repeated by the author, we suspect, rather in compliance with custom, and the usual distribution of the text in this part Of the Catholic service, than from any especial regard to the music, which is only in the Master's running hand.
The lienedictus'm indeed remarkable. To a musician acquainted with the few notes by which Mozart generally produces his effects, the numerous instruments at work in the symphony might give pause and room for conjecture as to whether this elaborate instrumentation might not be filled up by another hand,—that ofSiissmayer. A bar of the opening at full length, shows a curious assemblage of melodies, doubling here and there, and imitating each other in a fragmentary way, but generally in real parts :—
Andante. » wmwmm P®^
Vio.l.       _jtdl_ N.F-HHB.1-
Vio. 2.
tf-
Si
mf
The accompanying of the sweet cantilena with trombones, and the general appearance of this introduction, may at first seem to savour of an intrusive hand ; but on consideration they coincide with the general plan of the work. Everything in the Requiem is peculiar: counterpoint so artistically elaborated, and melodies of equal freshness and character, scarcely enter into any of the other Masses.   The Benedictus, which usually
* This toeing a complete section of the score, these parls are not transposed as before, butare to hi read a fifth lower than they are written.
XV].
mozart's requiem.
is but a name for an Angel's song, peculiar to Mozart, in the Requiem has its sweetness mingled with somewhat awful and solemn. This idea was probably accidental. The three chords of the trombones in the Zauberfiute were still sounding in his ears when he composed this Benedictus, and being always able to find double employment for a good thought, here we find them again at each of the principal cadences, marvellously enriching the soft melodious effect of each close.
It is superfluous to point to the beauties of the vocal parts of the Benedictus, as they are well known and fully enjoyed by singers of taste and refinement. The instrumental features are less familiar; and yet there is in these scarcely a single phrase which has not attraction for the eye or a charm for memory. To every man of his orchestra, Mozart still gives a tune for his own private and special enjoyment, over and above what in the aggregate falls to him and to the audience. His old companions, the bassoon players, are still looked after with peculiar regard. In what a friendly manner we are greeted by this inner part doubled with the tenors :— _
and again and better still in the melodious elegance of this return :—___
rf P r/ What care in marking the accents of the phrase— what evident enjoyment and interest of the composer in his work ! To the minutest bowings of the violins, everything claims attention. But the finest effect of the bassoons is in the final cadence, devised on purpose for the display of their tones. The chords which precede the following passage should be recalled by the musician ; it will be an easy task :—-
I
Vio. 1. Vio. 2.
Viola. Bassi.
	
1 "	
	
i	-J> i r
	
	%__"f—
	
This melodious close, so inimitably delicate, and so characteristic of Mozart, shows how some part of the scoring at least could be called in question ; for who, before Meyerbeer and Berlioz, would have thought of accompanying such a cadence even with the softest notes of three trombones and two trumpets? Yet it rather proves that the composer, true to himself, was ever trying to extend the domain of his beloved art. The entire structure of the Benedictus, both in the voice and orchestra parts, reveals such a great plan, and an expression so impassioned and earnest, that it is certain the author devoted himself to it with all his powers. What he chiefly meant for posterity—what was the especial object of his own preference—and what went fast or slow under his pen, can never be mistaken ; it may be known as well as if we saw hiin at the moment, composing. The Benedictus continues the full-part writing characteristic of the Requiem; yet its counterpoint is not scholastic and fugal—it is rather that of elegant melodies, placed in such artistic confluence, that, though eight or ten parts he on the page, their freedom is never obstructed.
We take this composition to be the last in the work which occupied the composer with intensity of thinking. As he approached the end, his pen went quicker. The Agn us Dei consists of two main thoughts expanded by genius into a movement. What profound melancholy in the opening.' The composer may have revolved this introduction as he sat, pale and dejected, in a little alcove of Trattner's garden at Vienna (where much of his work is said to have been written), thinking of his own end, and of the night-wind already sighing over his grave. The orchestral phrase sounds in fitful gusts :—
lag. Timp.
Viola. Bassi.
Zargheito.
This orchestral phrase, forte-piano, continues throughout the movement in different keys and modulations, giving place now and then to a second principal thought on the words " Dona eis requiem," the perfect language of religious solemnity :■—
Dona  e   -   -   is re-qnt-em.
Treble. Alio.
Tenor. Baas.
3^ ■
in
Dona, do - na  e   -   -   is   re - qui-em,
With the first rapid conception of these two ideas— the one orchestral and dramatic, t'..« other purely sacred—the work was accomplished. This last movement seems to unfold the rapid process of Mozart's composition—the variety in unity which he possessed and could sustain in music with endless intellectual resources. The cadence of deceptive harmony at the close of the Agnus is similar to the 'passus et sepultus" of some other Masses ; at " Lux aeterna " the opening re-appears, and the Requiem is concluded.
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