“From the heart: may it go to the heart” ~ Beethoven on his epic Missa Solemnis
Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis stands as one of the composer’s most profound and ambitious works, a monumental setting of the Latin Mass that blends spiritual intensity with symphonic grandeur. Written over several years and premiered in 1824, it stretches the boundaries of sacred music with its dramatic scope, intricate counterpoint, and heartfelt devotion. You will be drawn into an awe-inspiring journey that conveys Beethoven’s deep faith and humanity, making the Missa Solemnis a truly timeless masterpiece.
Aviva Fortunata, soprano
Marion Newman, mezzo-soprano
Owen McCausland, tenor
Brett Polegato, baritone
University of Waterloo Chamber Choir
Grand Philharmonic Choir
Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony
Mark Vuorinen, conductor
This concert will be performed without intermission. Length approximately 80 minutes.
Program notes
Von Herzen: möge es wieder zu Herzen gehen!
From the heart: may it go to the heart!
It is this very personal and emotive inscription that Beethoven wrote at the top of the score of his Missa Solemnis. Beethoven, who had already defied what was thought possible with respect to the genres of the day, dedicated most of the years 1819-1822 to writing a new Mass that would become the “crown of my life’s work.”
In 1809, Archduke Rudolph, brother of Emperor Franz II, was one of three noblemen who signed a contract assuring Beethoven would receive an annual annuity for as long as he remained in Vienna. Around the same time, Beethoven began to give Rudolph music lessons, instructing him in piano and composition. A long-lasting relationship of reliable patronage emerged, prompting Beethoven to dedicate a large number of major works to him. Some years later, when it became known that Archduke Rudolph, a priest, would be elevated to the status of cardinal and be made Archbishop, Beethoven professed his desire to mark the occasion with a new Mass setting:
The day on which a High Mass composed by me will be performed during the ceremonies solemnized for Your Imperial Highness will be the most glorious day of my life; and God will enlighten me so that my poor talents may contribute to the glorification of that solemn day.
Beethoven’s work on the Mass began in earnest, but both the eventual scale of the new work and several interruptions in its composition meant that the date of Rudolph’s installation, March 20, 1820, came and went before Beethoven could complete it (music by Hummel and Haydn was performed instead). It would, in fact, be another three years before the new work was finished. Nevertheless, its dedication, “Von Herzen- möge es wieder zu Herzen gehen,” was intended as much an offering of gratitude and admiration to his friend, student and patron, as it is an indication to the rest of the world of the profoundly personal nature of the music. The occasion of Archduke Rudolph’s installation as cardinal and archbishop may have been the impetus Beethoven needed to contemplate the new work, but the Missa Solemnis would take on so much greater a scope and scale than would have been suitable for a liturgical event; this would occupy Beethoven’s creative energy for nearly four years.
Beethoven prepared exhaustively to begin writing this new mass, noting in his diary in 1818, that to write good church music one must “go through all the ecclesiastical chants of the monks, etc. Also look there for the stanzas in the most correct translations along with the most perfect prosody of all Christian-Catholic psalms and hymns in general.” He studied music of the great masters who came before him, including Palestrina, Handel and Bach, for whom he had great respect. He found inspiration, too, in the ancient musical modes of the church, in which the “devotion is divine. May God permit me to express it one day.”
Although Beethoven had set the Mass text once before, in 1807, he began this endeavour with a fresh copy and marked the textual stress of every phrase, with a word by word German translation underneath. He made minor alterations and word substitutions (ending the Gloria with a reprise of the opening text or replacing “Et in spiritum sanctum” with “Credo in spiritum sanctum,” for example). These editorial decisions were made to better fit his thematic and formal musical designs.
The first performance of Missa Solemnis took place in St. Petersburg in 1824 and was given by Prince Nikolai Galitzin who had commissioned other works of Beethoven. The first performance at which Beethoven was present was in Vienna a month later, but was incomplete. The Kyrie, Credo and Agnus Dei were performed in a German translation, since the performance of liturgical works was forbidden in the concert hall. The Mass movements were billed as “Three Sacred Hymns” and were performed in the same concert as the premiere of the Ninth Symphony. Beethoven would not see or “hear” (he was completely deaf by this point of his life) a complete performance in his lifetime.
The Kyrie begins not with a decisive downbeat, but with an upbeat, momentarily suspending time until the woodwinds intone the cries of “Kyrie, preceding those of the chorus and soloists by several measures. The middle section, Christe, flows easily in three, giving contrast to the stoicism of the opening passages. The timeless lament returns with the repetition of the words Kyrie eleison.
Beethoven begins the Gloria with a thunderous uproar using nearly the whole, large orchestra to initiate a rising line of exultation. In a moment of matter-of-fact text painting he arrests the rushing climb, dropping two octaves for the words, “et in terra pax hominibus” (and in earth peace and goodwill to all) returning us all to terra firma. A tender aria for the vocal quartet and chorus forms a slow-movement to his well-balanced triptych of veneration. After returning to the fast tempo a fugue builds towards the end where unexpectedly Beethoven returns to both the text and music of the beginning of the movement (Gloria in excelsis Deo) only now at a faster, more inexhaustible tempo. The movement ends with the chorus shouting “Gloria!” after the orchestra has finished.
The Credo is the longest and wordiest movement of the Mass and also contains some of the most ferocious music for both the orchestra and singers. Beethoven’s piety has always been somewhat of a question. He was born and raised Catholic but would not have been considered an orthodox believer. He did not attend church regularly past the age of childhood and found little use for organized religion. It becomes a subject of interest, therefore, to notice which clauses of the Nicene Creed, the testament of faith, Beethoven emphasizes in his setting. The incarnation, a still moment in time, (Et incarnatus est: And was incarnate by the Holy Spirit…) receives the most intimate music of the entire mass, with a trilling flute depicting the Holy Spirit’s gentle breath over the quartet of soloists. The resurrection, a central tenet of Christianity, (Et resurrexit tertia die, secundum scripturas) is over in just six measures of music, while the final three words of the creed, …et vitam venturi (and the life of the world to come), receives 177 measures. Beethoven’s understanding of religion was less concerned with the details of dogma than with the ways in which humanity relates to God.
Beethoven sets the Sanctus in a b-minor Adagio. The score is marked “Mit Andacht” (With Devotion) and is sung by the quartet of soloists. A measured tremolo builds tension before the orchestra and chorus are once again unleashed in an imitative frenzy at the words pleni sunt coeli. One of the most extraordinary moments of the Mass follows. A lengthy orchestral Prelude of lower strings, bassoon and flutes brings the liturgical proceedings to a standstill, before a transcendent violin solo descends from the heavens and weaves throughout the Benedictus.
The Agnus Dei contains some of the most personal music of the entire Missa Solemnis. Three solemn statements of Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi accompanied by low strings, horns and bassoons leads to an extended Dona nobis pacem (Grant us peace). Here Beethoven gives the instruction “Bitte um inner und äußern Frieden” (Prayer for inner and outer peace). It must be noted that Beethoven knew little peace in his lifetime. Threat of invasion during the Napoleonic wars was never far off and personal peace often eluded the great composer. From family custody battles involving his nephew to constant fear of financial ruin, Beethoven’s own sense of strength was often in jeopardy. Needless to say, his hearing loss over the course of the previous decade was a source of distress and embarrassment. On three occasions in the Dona nobis pacem section, Beethoven interrupts the playful, optimistic theme with “war interludes.” In the first, field bugles are heard, invoking the soloists to a recitative-like passage to sing once again “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” The second involves an extended, wandering orchestral passage that culminates in the sound of trumpets and drums pleading for peace with a shout. The third interlude is a remembrance of war, a distant drumming before four ‘pacems’ from the chorus returns hope.
Missa Solemnis stands as one of his most profound achievements—a towering exploration of faith, humanity, and transcendence. Fusing monumental architecture with moments of intimate devotion, it reaches beyond liturgical boundaries to express universal longing for peace and reconciliation. From fervent cries of “Kyrie” to the radiant vision of the “Dona nobis pacem,” this masterpiece remains both a personal testament of belief and a timeless appeal to the spirit.
–Mark Vuorinen