Professor Martin Gaskell
“The aim and final reason of all music should be none else but the glory of God and refreshing the soul.” So stated Johann Sebastian Bach. This last weekend packed audiences in the Civic Auditiorium in Santa Cruz Cruz and the Mello Center in Watsonville were treated to monumental performances of Bach’s largest piece of sacred music, his Mass in B Minor, a work that the German composer and music publisher Hans Georg Nägeli in 1818 called, “The greatest artwork of all times and all people.” For this huge work Santa Cruz Symphony, under the baton of Maestro Daniel Stewart, was joined by the Cabrillo Symphonic Chorus prepared by their Director, Cheryl Anderson. The ensemble was huge: 50 players in the orchestra, over 80 singers in the chorus, and four vocal soloists.
In 1872 the Viennese conductor Johann von Herbeck (a predecessor of Mahler as director of the Vienna Opera) gave his opinion on what the two greatest musical settings of the Mass were. The Bach Mass in B Minor was not one of them (Herbeck’s choices were the Beethoven Missa Solemnis and Bruckner’s F Minor Mass). There was a good reason for Herbeck’s omission: the Mass in B Minor had not entered the repertoire at that point. Despite Nägeli’s praise, the first known performance of the complete Mass in B Minor had not taken place until only 13 years before Herbeck’s remark and that performance was in Leipzig, far away from Vienna. Importantly, there was no performance of the complete Mass in Bach’s lifetime. The audiences in the Civic Auditorium and the Mello Center last weekend got to hear a more complete performance of the Mass than Bach himself ever did! Performances of the Mass in B Minor did not start to become common until the last quarter of the 19th century.
I bring up this topic of the lack of performances for over a century after completion of the Mass in B Minor because it bears strongly on a topic I must deal with at the outset to forestall criticisms. This is “authenticity.” In his always entertaining pre-concert talk, Don Adkins forewarned us that what we were about to hear was not what we might have heard on the internet in performances by early music groups. The Santa Cruz Symphony concerts were at modern pitch (the A the orchestra tuned to before the start of the concerts had a frequency of 440 Hz rather than being a semitone flatter at 415 Hz), the soloists and many choir members used a wide vibrato (a practice that did not appear even in opera solos until the tenor Giovanni Batista Rubina around 1830 and was despised by Wagner), the choir was three or four times larger than Bach would have had, there were two or three times as many string players, they used modern bows, and their vibrato was continuous (something that only came in at the start of the 20th century).
One could go on at length about this: the brass instruments had valves, the soprano and contralto soloists were not teenage boys, and, although I’ve not examined the iconographic evidence, I’m pretty sure that Bach’s musicians didn’t read their parts from iPads! The Bach Mass in B Minor is also not concert music. It is music for performance in church (although not necessarily all at once). It is not appreciated in the English-speaking Protestant world that large Mass setting for chorus, soloists, and orchestra were written for use in church. I have personally attended an ordinary Sunday morning mass in Hungary where the music was one of the large Haydn Mass settings (about 45 minutes of music in addition to other music in the Mass). My Roman Catholic host (a choir director) commented, “the music is so much better when it is in the context of a service!” Although Bach never heard the complete Mass in B Minor, the music of many of the movements had been performed in his lifetime and performed in church.
However, I don’t think we should impose narrow ideas of Baroque performance practice on Bach’s music, nor forbid a modern symphony orchestra to play it. A great thing about Bach’s music is that it is for everybody and for all times. His keyboard works belong to pianists as well as to organists and harpsichordists. (Remember than J. S. Bach was an early piano salesman!) Bach would have liked larger ensembles than he normally had to work with. It was only economics that dictated small ensemble sizes in the 18th century and choirs with only one or two singers on a part. Few people these days know that the first performance of what we now regard as major orchestra work, Beethoven’s Eroica symphony had only two violas in the orchestra! (That’s many times fewer than Santa Cruz Symphony had when it played Eroica last season).
Rather than a performance by a small ensemble on period instruments, what Daniel Stewart and Cheryl Anderson gave us this last weekend was an eloquent interpretation in which things were not overstated. A couple of things were obvious right from the start and throughout last weekend’s performances: first, the consistently good balance between the strings and the chorus, and second, how well Cheryl Anderson had prepared that chorus.
The Mass in B Minor is far from easy music for the chorus or soloists. It is far harder than, for example, Handel’s Messiah. What makes Bach’s choral music challenging is the continuous Baroque counterpoint with lines that are instrumental in nature, rather than like the pure vocal polyphony of the Renaissance. The number of rhythmically independent parts is large, with many choruses unusually having five parts vocal than the usual four. On top of this, there are independent instrumental parts. Given these complexities, the crispness and clarity of the tenors was impressive as was the agility of the basses in long passages of sixteenth notes. Getting such clarity is hard with a large chorus, particularly when sections have to be spread sideways in straight lines because of the size of the chorus and the seating constraints. On the other hand, the relatively short reverberation times of the Civic Auditorium and the Mello Center (about one second in each case) work in favor of clarity.
After the long opening Kyrie Eleison (the sinner’s prayer, “Lord have mercy”), soprano Hera Hyesang Park and contralto Sara Couden sang the first duet, Christe Eleison (“Christ have mercy”). The tone qualities of their voices blended well. This was followed by the second Kyrie, a fugue for the chorus. After the solemn prayers for forgiveness, comes the energetic orchestral start to the Gloria in excelsis Deo. Incidentally, the orchestra is to be commended for including both the Latin text and English translations in the program notes. The Gloria features the full resources of the orchestra and has the first appearance of the trumpets and timpani. The trumpet playing through the mass was superb. First trumpet Owen Miyoshi was continually called up to play in the very top of the “clarino” register going up to top D (a note higher than most sopranos can reach), and, for a few short notes, even up to high E. Second trumpet Richard Roper frequently went almost as high in the clarino register. The timpani, played by principal timpanist John Weeks, worked in close conjunction with the third trumpet Greg Smith. Weeks opted to use smaller and harder sticks such as were used in the 18th century. This led to some of the most brilliant timpani playing I have ever heard in Baroque music and something that was much appreciated by the audience, judging from the strong applause Weeks received when Maestro Stewart called him out for a solo bow at the end of the concert.
The Gloria continued with the solo Laudamus te (“we praise you”) sung by soprano Hera Hyesang Park and with the obbligato solo violin part played by principal violinist Kiri Murakami Loehmann. A camera was set up on her and an image projected on a large screen at the front. In this we could appreciate the very appropriate facial gestures and looks she made. In the Civic Auditorium a camera was set up very high just behind Maestro Stewart. This gave good panoramas of the entire chorus and orchestra. Unfortunately, a similar camera position was not possible in the Mello Center.
The Gloria continued with a fugue on the text Gratias agimus (“We give you thanks for Your great glory”). What really stands out in this movement are the trumpets. The first trumpet first doubles the sopranos. This happens twice. Then the sopranos are doubled a third time, but this is by the second trumpet (Richard Roper). The first trumpet comes in high above in the musical stratosphere and the trumpet parts feel as though they are ascending to heaven itself. The third trumpet and timpani join it. The movement ends similarly. With such a glorious effect it is no surprise that Bach chose to reuse the music for the Dona nobis pacem that concludes the Mass as a whole.
The next movement (Domine Deus) is a duet between soprano Hera Hyesang Park and tenor Andrew Stenson. The accompaniment is a solo flute (Sarah Benton) and strings. Interestingly, Bach asks for the strings to be muted. At times the violins just seem to float in the air. For all the solos and duets, Maestro Stewart chose to have the continuo played on a chamber organ. This was played with superb articulations and phrasings by harpsichordist Yuko Tanaka. Domine Deus goes straight into Qui tollis peccata mundi (“who takes away the sins of the world”) where the sound of the two flutes (Sarah Benton and Marian Concus) floats above the mysterious phrases of the chorus.
Next come two arias. The first is an alto aria, Qui sedes ad dextram Patris (“Who sits at the right hand of God the Father”) accompanied by the plaintive sound of an oboe d’amore played by Bennis Cottone. It should be explained that an oboe d’amore is intermediate in size between a normal oboe and cor anglais. The second aria, Quoniam tu solus sanctus (“Only you are holy”), is the first appearance of bass soloist Christian Pursell, but the bass soloist is overshadowed by the most striking accompaniment of the entire mass: a high horn part and two bassoons. To highlight this instrumental trio, Daniel Stewart had the horn (Braydon Ross) and the two bassoons (Michelle Keem and Jamael Smith) stand up. The horn solo, believed to have been written for the greatest horn play in Europe, is notorious for having the player, who has not played at all in the Mass up to this point, leap straight up to a top D. Braydon Ross, who has only joined the orchestra this year, executed this leap and all the other difficulties flawlessly.
The Gloria and the first half of the concert concluded with the final chorus Cum sancto spiritu (“With the Holy Spirit”). What was astounding at both concerts was the level of applause at the end! I’ve never experienced anything like it at the mid-point of a long work! At this point there is usually polite applause and “OK, now let’s have the intermission.” Instead, if one did not know otherwise, one could conclude that the enthusiastic applause (with many rising to their feet in the Saturday concert) was the end of the entire concert.
After the intermission the concerts continued with the two chorus that start the Credo (“I believe in one God.”) This was followed by another soprano/alto duet. For the accompaniment, Bennie Cottone was joined by Peter Lemberg on a second oboe d’amore. This leads into the central statements of the Creed, Et incarnatus est (“And was made flesh”). The strings gave a beautifully mysterious start that provides the background to the pianissimo vocal entries. This is followed by the equally subdued Crucifixus (“He was crucified”). The tortuous chromatic harmonies are provided by alternating strings and flutes. At the end of the movement the upper instruments drop out, leaving the voices to sing passum et sepultus est (“He was dead and buried”) accompanied only by the cellos and double bases. The whole orchestra then burst in with Et resurrexit (“And he rose”).
Christian Pursell then sang an aria accompanied by the two oboi d’amore. Two things were noteworthy about Pursell’s performance of the aria. One was his use of vibrato more in a baroque style as an ornament to decorate long notes rather than as something continuous. The second thing was a tasteful use of looks, facial gestures, and appropriate hand movements. Such things might be associated more with recitative on stage than in a sacred work, but here they emphasized that the singer was conveying information. The effect of the gesture was to say “I’m telling you something important.” After this the Credo concludes with choruses.
The next big section is the Sanctus (“Holy, holy, holy”). This features a powerful descending bass line and high, prominent trumpet parts. The Sanctus was the only place where the balance between the different groups was off. Because of their physical limitations, the three oboes were much too quiet with their punctuating chords. The Sanctus is followed straight away by the Osanna. This is a double-choir piece, but the back and forth between the two spatially separate choirs was lost because it was not logistically possible in either venue to separate the two choirs.
After three big D major choruses with trumpets and timpani, a tenor solo setting of the Benedictus, sung by Andrew Stenson, was a welcome relief. This was accompanied by a flute obbligato played by principal flutist Sarah Benton accompanied by the chamber organ (Yuko Tanaka), solo cello (Robin Snyder), and solo double bass (James Schulz). From the enthusiastic and prolonged applause for her solo bow at end of the concert, it was clear that the audience loved Sarah Benton’s beautiful flute playing. The aria was followed by a repeat of the Osanna.
For the penultimate movement of the mass, the alto solo Agnus Dei (“O Lamb of God”), Daniel Stewart chose to have it accompanied by all the violins, rather than a solo violin. The vocal part of the aria showed off Sara Couden’s rich and resonant voice to its best. As with Christian Pursell, Couden’s more baroque use of vibrato was a big asset. One also got a clear sense of joy from her, not only when she was singing, but also was she was sitting waiting earlier in the Mass.
Since the Dona nobis pacem (“Give us peace”), which concludes the Agnus dei (“O Lamb of God”) and hence the whole Mass, has the same music as Gratias agimus, it needs no more comment. No sooner had the last chord died away than the whole audience leaped to its feet and their loud applause kept going for a long time.
The most poignant moment for me occurred in the Dona nobis pacem, though in neither Saturday’s nor Sunday’s concerts, but rather at the end of the rehearsal on Friday night. Despite having to rehearse a two-hour work in only two hours and forty minutes (no mean feat), the rehearsal had gone well and all was set for a fine performance the next day. Singing and playing in a work like the Mass in B Minor is an experience that I cannot recommend too highly, but a disadvantage is that one does not get to experience the overall effect as the audience does. As the clock was ticking off the final minutes of the rehearsal, the chorus and orchestra began the Dona nobis pacem – the prayer for peace that is the final words of the ordinary of the Mass and one of the grandest movements of Bach’s setting.
As the majestic music began, Maestro Stewart left the podium and walked to the back of the auditorium. The tempo of the Dona nobis pacem is rock steady and the music is identical to that of the Gratias agimus tibi, which was sung with no problems in the first half of the rehearsal. It was a perfect time for the conductor to step back. I looked back at Daniel Stewart. He was standing alone at the back of the dark, empty, cavernous auditorium absorbing the music. His head was uplifted as though in an attitude of contemplation or prayer.
I have no way of knowing what was in Daniel Stewart’s head, but as I reflect on this brief scene I am reminded of something written by contemporary philosopher Peter Kreeft. In one of his books Kreeft has 20 arguments for the existence of God. Kreeft gives discussion of each argument. Number 17 gets the shortest entry: “There is the music of Johann Sebastian Bach. Therefore, there must be a God.” For this one, Kreeft’s only comment is simple, “You either see this one or you don’t.” I would not expect everyone in last weekend’s audiences to accept Kreeft’s argument, but the performances certainly did not harm it!
~ Professor Martin Gaskell
