Black Holes and Snowy Mountains

We begin Music 365 with one of my favorite works of all time, the majestic Ein Deutsches Requiem, op. 45 by Johannes Brahms. Premiered in its original entirety in Bremen on April 10, 1868, this happens to be its 141st anniversary.

The 7 movements of the Requiem trace a cycle, beginning with the description of the grief and sorrow that accompany those left behind and commenting on the fragility of life to describing the peaceful state of those passed and the promise of salvation and resurrection. The text is drawn directly from the Lutheran Bible instead of the Catholic Mass for the Dead, and in accordance with Brahms’ admission that he “might have just as well called it a ‘Human’ Requiem” all specific references to “Jesus” or “Christ” are absent, replaced by the more universal “Lord.”

The motivations for writing the piece were numerous. The loss of his friend Robert Schumann continued to haunt him throughout Brahms’ life. Indeed at the Bremen premiere, Brahms escorted his close personal friend and widow of Schumann, Clara, to her seat before taking the stage to conduct. The passing of his mother in February of 1865 further compelled him to take refuge in composing, and it is his mother’s memory that the tender fifth movement pays tribute to.

Requiring a full chorus and a large orchestra, the Requiem is Brahms’ largest piece in terms of manpower needed in performance. With a typical performance lasting around 70 minutes, it is also his longest work.

Note: In the interest of length, I elected not to include the full text of the Requiem. You can view a translation on Wikipedia, or here, here, or here.

I: Selig sind, die da Leid tragen (Blessed are they that mourn)

The Requiem opens with a calm, solemn movement scored without violins, clarinets, or trumpets. The opening, organ-like thrumming of the low strings give way to a hushed chorus entry of “Selig…” (Blessed) which will later end the work. For the first few iterations of the text the orchestra and chorus alternate between one another, a kind of musical conversation before joining forces. The somber mood is transformed throughout the movement with several recurrences of the thrumming strings and opening motif before ending with an ascending harp line (the spirit of the dead ascending to heaven) and a peaceful wind chord.

II: Denn alles Fleish, es ist wie Gras (For all flesh is as grass)

The second movement is the only movement scored for full orchestra, and is unusual in that it sounds like a funeral march but is in triple meter, a meter more commonly used in dance movements. The movement itself feels unbalanced, with accents on strange beats all accompanied by a steady rhythm from the timpani. After the first verse, the orchestra crescendos to a fortissimo, driven by the timpani, before the chorus re-enters with a dark and powerful chant of “Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras…” (“For all flesh is as grass…”). The mood then lightens (“So seid nun geduldig…” – Be patient, brethren…) while describing the coming of the Lord- note the gorgeous imagery around 5 minutes into the movement Brahms evokes of the “bis er empfahe den Morgenregen und Abendregen” (“morning and evening rain”) with the flutes and harp. It honestly reminds me of “Little April Shower” from Bambi. The movement returns to B Minor and the funeral “dance,” again building to a massive warning of “Denn alles Fleisch…” . Then, the announcement “Aber des Herrn Wort bleibet in Ewigkeit” (“But the word of the Lord endures forever”) switches the movement to its brilliant closing key of B-flat Major with triumphant fanfares in the low brass accompanying “und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg mussen” (“and sorrow and signing shall flee away”) before a peaceful, almost pastoral section (again driven by eighth notes in the timpani) builds to a climax and ends the movement on a wind chord.

III: Herr, lehre doch mich (Lord, make me know mine end)

For the first time a soloist makes their entry into the piece. The strong baritone echoed by the chorus gives the feeling of a pasteur preaching to his congregation. The baritone sings and is echoed by the chorus three times before a sudden explosion of sound serves as a delimiter between the solemn opening and the proceeding lyrical section in which the baritone and winds reassure themselves, “Ach, wie gar nichts sind alle Menschen, die doch so sicher leben.” (“Surely every man walks in vain, surely they are disquieted in vain…”) before being echoed by the chorus. The voices get to “Nun Herr wes soll ich mich trosten?” (“Now Lord, what I wait for?”) and repeat this question over and over, accompanied by a wild orchestra passage that is rhythmically and tonally ambiguous, as if to underscore the uncertainty of the question being asked. Out of the depths, the chorus answers, “Ich hoffe auf dich” (“My hope is in thee”) which gives way to a brilliant fugue. The fugue is notable for its wealth of “decoration” in the upper voices of both the chorus and orchestra while maintaining a pedal D in the basses, tuba, and contrabassoon, at the same time with quiet triplets in the timpani. The symbolism is obvious; the numerous voices represent the wandering sheep while the pedal D is the shepherd.

A funny story that always makes me smile- during the Vienna premier of the Requiem the timpanist misread the “pp” (pianissimo, very quiet) marking in the fugue as “ff” (fortissimo, very loud) and thus drowned out basically everything. The timpanist was fired.

IV: Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen (How amiable are thy tabernacles)

This gentle, flowing movement serves as the respite from the tumults of the previous movements and those to come. A sense of urgency is imparted with “Mein Leib und Seele freuen…” (“my heart and flesh cries out…”) by staccato eigth notes in the strings before resolving into a beautiful passage accompanying “…sich in dem lebendigen Gott.” (“…for the living of God”). The fourth movement is very much the warm heart of the piece both musically and numerical progression.

V: Ihr habt nun Trauerigkeit (Ye now have sorrow)

The fifth movement was added to the original movements after the Bremen premier, and is a tribute to Brahms’ mother. Acting as a kind of balance to the third movement in which the solo Baritone almost warns the chorus of their frailty, the solo soprano sings a passage of hope and joy. In a sense this is the first indication that after the serene fourth movement the direction of the Requiem has shifted from sorrow and tension to hope and resolution. “aber ich will euch wieder sehen und euer Herz soll sich freuen, und eure Freude soll niemand von euch nehmen.” (“…but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you”) she sings, accompanied by the hushed, prayer-like repetition of “Ich will euch trosten, wie einen seine Mutter trostet” (“As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you”). A motif from the second movement returns momentarily with “Sehet mich an…” (“Behold with your eyes..”) but the tension is immediately dissolved by returning to the flowing, lyrical lines that preceded it.

VI: Denn wir haven hie keine bliebende Statt (For here we have no continuing home)

The sixth movement begins with a hushed chant of “Denn wir haben hie…” accompanied by quiet pizzicato strings in walking quarter notes. This reverie is rudely interrupted by the baritone, who announces “Behold, I show you a mystery…” while the orchestra retreats to quiet sustained notes with wind accompaniment. The music halts when the baritone sings “in a moment”, building tension that boils over with “Denn es wird die Posaune schallen” (“the trumpet shall sound.”) The music then dives into a tremendous storm of brass chords and timpani rolls, while the chorus launches into a description of the last judgement. A momentary respite from the storm occurs when the baritone sings, “Dann wird erfüllet werden das Wort, das geschrieben steht” (“Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written,” which happens to be followed by one of the best timpani rolls in the literature, in my opinion), after which the chorus resumes their stormy “Der Tod ist verschlungen in den Sieg” (“Death is swallowed up in victory”). The section reaches its climax after the chorus defiantly asks repeatedly, “Tod, wo ist dein Stachel? Hölle, wo ist dein Sieg?” (“Death, where is your sting? Grave, where is thy victory?”) These grand pauses bring us out of the storm and the figurative sun breaks through the clouds in the form of a gorgeous and magnificent 5-octave, repeating fugue beginning with “Herr, du bist wurdig…” This fugue, capped with calls of “Preis und Ehre” (glory and honor) contains some of the most triumphant and joyful music in the repertoire. The movement ends with a timpani roll accompanied by brass.

VII: Selig sind die Toten (Blessed are the dead)

The seventh and final movement begins in the same key as the first and with “Selig” in the sopranos, soon echoed in the baritones and basses. The movement switches into E Minor briefly before resolving to F major with hushed chants of “Selig”, closing the piece again with an ascending harp and octave Fs. Thus the Requiem has traversed the full cycle, from “Blessed are they that mourn” to “Blessed are the dead.”

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Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem is an amazingly beautiful work well-deserving of our time. It has become a staple of both the orchestral and choral repertoire and is performed frequently on the concert circuit. Elements of the Requiem are evident throughout Brahms’ later works, including themes of apotheosis and redemption, yet it remains as the original monument to Brahms’ skill as an orchestral composer.

If you are interested in listening to a recording, I recommend Claudio Abbado’s 1993 recording with the Berlin Philharmonic on Deutsche Grammophone. You can buy this recording by clicking on the image below.

This article is part of the Music 365 series. To find out more about this project, please visit the project homepage.