Program Notes: Mozart's Messiah
SUPPORT YOUR SYMPHONY On December 17 & 18, the Seattle Symphony presents Handel’s Messiah at Benaroya Hall, with a rarely heard orchestration by Mozart. George Frideric Handel cast a long musical shadow. Beethoven was...
SUPPORT YOUR SYMPHONY
On December 17 & 18, the Seattle Symphony presents Handel’s Messiah at Benaroya Hall, with a rarely heard orchestration by Mozart.
George Frideric Handel cast a long musical shadow. Beethoven was an ardent Handelian, asserting that the German/British composer’s gift for conveying a wide range of feeling using minimal means was unequalled. Mozart and Haydn eagerly absorbed the techniques of their Baroque antecedents, which can be seen in the two symphonies presented alongside Handel in this concert.
In 1712, having spent time in Italy where he excelled in composing operas, Handel moved to England, later becoming a British subject. He was arguably his adopted country’s greatest musical import. The year following his arrival, he composed Ode for the Birthday of Queen Anne, a delightful and uplifting encomium to the monarch that also celebrated the Treaty of Utrecht to end the War of the Spanish Succession. The opening aria, “Eternal source of light divine,” begins almost reverently with vocal melismas and a restrained trumpet solo as accompaniment, giving nary a hint of the increasing joy of the work as a whole, an exuberant recognition of the Queen’s birthday.
It is Handel’s Messiah, however, that remains his best-known work. A major factor in its popularity was Mozart’s 1789 rescoring that used the instrumental resources of late Classicism, and his resurrection of a translation of the text as Der Messias, which hews closer to Martin Luther’s translation of the New Testament.
Many Baroque-era instruments had gone the way of the dodo by the 1790s. The valveless clarino trumpet was a casualty of the passage of time, but the evolving clarinet added new color to the orchestra. It was Gottfried van Swieten, a diplomat and habitué at the Imperial Court and a knowledgeable music lover, who suggested that Mozart produce an updated orchestration of Messiah in 1789. In fact, van Swieten had lent scores of Bach and Handel to both Mozart and Beethoven, which greatly influenced these Classical-era masters in their contrapuntal skill — a heritage that can be heard in Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Adagio and Fugue, K. 546, an echo of Baroque forms in a Classical sound world.
Mozart’s German-language version of Der Messias was published in 1803 (though the selections in these performances will be sung in English). One of its many beauties is the opening recitative “Comfort Ye” and aria, “Ev’ry Valley Shall be Exalted,” where the composer expands upon the word “exalted” to heighten its textual implications. The brief and lovely “Pastoral Symphony” (aka “Pifa”) that follows is, aside from the Overture, the only purely orchestral number. Its gently rocking 12/8 meter (a connective rhythmic “motto” recurring throughout the entire score) and enchanting innocence have assured its independent life as a concert encore. Pifa leads directly into the multi-sectional recitative “There Were Shepherds Abiding in the Field.” Minimally scored and repeated shortly, the anxious, fear-induced opening section is interspersed with “And the Angel Said Unto Them,” enriched by ecstatic arpeggio violins that radiantly anticipate hope and salvation.
The virtuosic aria “Rejoice Greatly O Daughter of Zion” is a celebratory da capo aria wherein the vocalist and first violin part intertwine to enhance the rapture of the music and text. The brief and ardent secco recitative “Then Shall the Eyes of the Blind be Opened” amplifies the emotion and expectation inherent in both the text and the music. To provide dramatic contrast, Handel offers the consoling aria, “He Shall Feed His Flock Like a Shepherd.”
Our selection closes with the aria “I Know that my Redeemer Liveth,” affirming the healing theme of redemption that runs throughout the remainder of the work.
Years before this historic reimagining, while seeking a secure position in Paris, the 22-year-old Mozart provided French audiences and potential sponsors with a number of imaginative and substantial works, including his Symphony No. 31 in D major. No doubt Mozart’s hopes were stimulated by good reviews the new piece received, but no offers were forthcoming. Disappointment turned to despair when his mother, who had accompanied him on the trip, died before their return home to Salzburg.
Per Parisian custom, Mozart cast the “Paris” Symphony in three movements and further accommodated French taste for orchestral color. In that regard, it may be more than coincidence that it marked Mozart’s first use of clarinets in a symphony. It was his older colleague Haydn who noted that Mozart “taught us how to write for the clarinet.”
The opening Allegro assai leaps forward and upward with a rapid D-major scale of the type known as the “Mannheim rocket,” made popular in that German musical center. Throughout the vivacious movement one hears frequent embellished passages in the unison strings contrasted with held notes and chords in the woodwinds.
Impresario Jean Le Gros, head of the Concert Spirituel, expressed dissatisfaction with the second movement so Mozart quickly penned another one, a graceful and balmy Andantino. The gently rocking main theme is colored by quiet injections from the horns and descending scales that serve as yet another melody. A new theme, equally courtly, continues the serene journey. A brief and forceful minor key episode offers contrast but barely interrupts the peaceful flow.
Mozart designed the Allegro finale to startle the audience; he wrote to his father that it “…began with the violins alone — piano for eight measures — followed at once by sudden forte. The audience — as I anticipated — cried ‘Hush’ at the piano, but directly the forte began [and] they took to clapping.” Beyond the startled audience response, the music herein demonstrates Mozart’s rapidly evolving skill at counterpoint three years before his move to Vienna.
England might not have produced great Baroque and Classical-era composers but it recognized and imported many greats from the Continent. The immense popularity accorded Franz Joseph Haydn during his visits to London beginning in 1791 bears testament to the English musical appetite. The composer had, in fact, refused several previous invitations, but was finally persuaded by Johann Peter Salomon, a decent violinist and an even more gifted impresario, to visit the English capital. Haydn’s London sojourn bore 12 precious musical offspring, the orchestral masterpieces known collectively as the “London” or “Salomon” symphonies (Nos. 93-104).
Though there are exceptions, those Haydn symphonies with added nicknames — “Surprise,” “London,” “Bear,” “Philosopher,” etc. — tend to get played more often than those that carry only numbers. Perhaps that is why Symphony No. 102 in B-flat major receives less attention that several of its brethren. Our loss, no doubt! The grand symphony in B-flat major is the equal to anything this great and ridiculously undervalued master set on paper.
As with many Haydn symphonies, No. 102 opens with a magnificent Largo introduction that is filled with expressive implications and neo-Romantic longing. It creates a tension released in the connected Vivace that takes over in the first movement. Ever the trickster, Haydn’s initial theme here, light and deft, does not suggest the rich emotional lode that lies ahead. The second theme is introduced in unison and recalls the very opening of the Largo. Haydn’s wizardry comes to the fore in the concentrated and utterly brilliant thematic manipulation in the development.
A richly embellished theme informs the second movement Adagio. The gently swaying accompaniment in triplets conveys the euphoria of a barcarolle, barely hiding the explorative harmonic gadding about. As usual, Haydn’s Menuet: Allegro celebrates his own rustic origins. This is a country dance that uses the woodwinds, especially oboes and bassoons, to particularly great effect.
The finale, too, is Haydn at his humor-loving best. Bumptious, energetic, rollicking and altogether fashioned of high-jinx fun, the imaginative juxtaposition of unexpected silences and the tossing around of melodic and rhythmic fragments tease the ear at every level of sophistication.
© 2021 Steven Lowe