CHAPTER VIII.
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.