‘Can a monument be sung? Is it possible to build with an art form that is ephemeral in time? We believe it is, and to prove it we have chosen this selection of works, mostly Romantic, that honour the period in which they were composed. They are works designed for large choirs and a large number of voices (let us not forget that Romanticism is the era of the Choral Revolution, the rise of the large choral masses far removed from the professional sphere, although very close to enjoyment). The way they are composed exploits sonority without ever being strident, but rather overwhelmingly beautiful, like the settings for which they were conceived. And it is within that beauty that we hope you will pause to enjoy this ephemeral art with us.
Of the 14 masses composed by Josef Rheinberger, Opus 109 occupies a very prominent position. It was written a few months after the rise of the Cecilianist movement, which advocated a simpler musical style, away from romantic grandiloquence and in favour of understanding the text. These Cecilianist precepts were rejected by Rheinberger, who had other ideas in mind to demonstrate that another religious musical style was possible. It was 1878, in the midst of the Romantic heyday, when he decided to compose a mass that imitated nothing less than Renaissance forms. The voices arranged in a double choir interact in the manner of the Venetian polychoralism of the late 16th century. However, the language employed is that of the composer himself and his own time: colourful harmonies, beguiling melodies and broad sonorities that never leave aside the textual meaning and are perfectly subordinated to its understanding. Rheinberger thus succeeds in conveying a message of humility woven through a web of pure choral symphonism.
Felix Mendelssohn's psalms are catalogued with his sacred works composed between 1822 and 1849. As a Lutheran composer, Mendelssohn wrote a number of works dedicated to the liturgy, many of them modelled on the chorales of the great J. S. Bach (1685-1750), whom Felix rediscovered, it is said, around 1829, and was engaged in the revival of many of his works. However, although the style of these psalms is baroque, the romantic imprint is very much present. Psalm 100 Jauchzet dem Herrn ‘Rejoice to the Lord, all the world’, composed in 1844, celebrates the Lord's kindness and mercy with a rich texture, especially in the central part. Psalm 43 Richte Mich Gott ‘Judge me, O God’ is perhaps more ambitious: it is written for 8 voices alternating in male voice sections.
It is written for 8 voices alternating in sections of male and female voices which end together in a final plea of faith.
Another work that takes us back to the past is Geistliches Lied, Op. 30 by Johannes Brahms. Composed for organ and choir in 1856, this piece is an excellent contrapuntal exercise. It is a double canon in which the tenors imitate the sopranos and the basses imitate the altos. In this way Brahms approaches the 17th century, but without neglecting the romantic school. The music carefully and unperturbedly accompanies the text, inviting us away from worldly concerns. The final ‘Amen’ is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful ever written.
When David heard that Absalom had been killed, he went up to his chamber over the door and wept, My son, my son, my son, O Absalom, my son, would that I had died for you! On that devastating phrase is built the last play in our programme, Eric Whitacre's When David Heard. It is the only work that does not fit into the programme in terms of period, as it was composed in 1999, but it does in terms of sonority. The American alternates from silence, the timid entrance of a string, to create a mass of sound made up of 18 voices to illustrate the dramatic and heart-rending moment when David discovers that his son has been murdered. The mastery with which Whitacre weaves together the motifs of grief and succeeds in immersing any listener or singer in this atmosphere of utter despair is simply breathtaking. A ‘singing monument’ in every sense of the word to close this programme that could well cause Stendhal syndrome.
