Program Notes
Brahms' Requiem
Program Notes By Steven Ledbetter
Johannes Brahms
Ein deutsches Requiem (A German Requiem)
Johannes Brahms was born in Hamburg, Germany,
on May 7, 1833, and died in Vienna, Austria, on
April 3, 1897. The history of the German Requiem
begins about 1854 with music that eventually turned
into the Piano Concerto No. 1; one of its rejected
themes became the starting point for the Requiem’s
second movement, “Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie
Gras.” Except for the fifth movement, the work was
completed in August 1866. On December 1, 1867,
Johannes Herbeck conducted the first three movements
in Vienna. The performance of all six existing
movements was given in the Bremen Cathedral on Good
Friday, April 10, 1868, the composer conducting,
with Julius Stockhausen as baritone soloist. Brahms
added what is now the fifth movement, “Ihr habt nun
Traurigkeit,” in May that year, and the work was
given as we now know it on February 18, 1869, under
Carl Reinecke in Leipzig. In addition to the soprano
and baritone soloists and mixed chorus, the German
Requiem is scored for two flutes plus piccolo, two
oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two
trumpets, three trombones, bass tuba, harp (only one
part, but preferably doubled), timpani, organ, and
strings. Duration is about 68 minutes.
The word “requiem” usually refers to the Roman
Catholic Mass for the Dead, which begins with the
Latin phrase “Requiem aeternam dona eis domine”
(“Grant them eternal rest, O Lord”). Settings of the
Requiem text were liturgical works for the Catholic
service, intended for use in a service of prayer for
the soul of the deceased.
Brahms, a north German Protestant, conceived the
extraordinary idea of creating his own text,
selecting Biblical passages that do not correspond
to the funeral liturgy of any church, but that
nonetheless represent a deeply felt response to the
central problem of human existence. To distinguish
his work from the Catholic Mass for the Dead, he
called it Ein deutsches Requiem (“A German
Requiem”).
It is not clear where Brahms got the idea for an
original, non-liturgical choral piece of this sort,
but early work on the composition somewhat relieved
the melancholy that haunted him at the loss of his
friend Robert Schumann. Yet already in 1854, long
before he had any thought of writing a large choral
piece, Brahms had worked on music that was to be a
symphony in D minor, though that eventually became
his First Piano Concerto. One theme originally
intended for the symphony resurfaced in what is now
the second movement of the German Requiem, drafted
between 1857 and 1859 (Schumann had died in 1856).
In the fall of 1861 he laid out the text of a
four-movement cantata but failed to develop it for
four years. Then, on February 2, 1865, a telegram
from his brother informed Brahms that his mother had
suffered a stroke and was dying. At once he departed
for Hamburg but arrived too late to see her. Haunted
and depressed, he turned to creative work to
exorcize the thought of death. Within two months he
had completed the first, second, and fourth
movements of the Requiem. Then his heavy concert
schedule intervened. It took until August 1866 to
complete the remainder of the work, with the
exception of the fifth movement.
By September, Brahms had played the score for
Clara Schumann, his lifelong confidante and
sounding-board. She wrote in her diary, “Johannes
has been playing me some magnificent movements out
of a Requiem of his own and a string quartet in C
minor. The Requiem...is full of tender and again
daring thoughts. I cannot feel clear as to how it
will sound, but in myself it sounds glorious.”
Three movements performed in Vienna in December
1867, in a concert devoted to Schubert’s memory, met
with mixed results. The Viennese found it too
austere for their taste. The third movement was
actually booed (though the fault was partly that of
the timpanist, who played so loudly in the extended
fugue that he drowned everyone else out). The six
movements that made up the work then were premiered
under the composer’s baton in Bremen Cathedral on
Good Friday in 1868. Here Brahms achieved the first
great triumph of his life—and for that reason no
doubt the sweetest. But the score was still not
finished. Soon after the premiere, he added the
fifth movement, with soprano solo, which, as its
text indicates, is a tribute to his mother’s memory.
From its premiere in Leipzig in February 1869, the
piece quickly attained the rank of a classic; it was
heard in Germany twenty times within the first year.
Brahms brilliantly assembled the text from
Luther’s translation of the Bible—from both Old and
New Testaments and also the Apocrypha. He was
apparently determined to create a universal text,
one that would not follow any particular liturgy,
and he avoided even any reference to the words
“Jesus” or “Christ” (though some English
translations of the work undo him in that point).
His intention is indicated by a letter he wrote to
the director of music at the Bremen Cathedral before
the premiere, explaining that “German” referred only
to the language in which it was sung; he would have
gladly called it “A Human Requiem.” He captured a
universal human experience rather than a narrow
doctrinal one and he addressed the living, the
bereaved, rather than the dead.
The music achieves a symphonic breadth and
strength that marks an important turning point in
his work, while at the same time underlining the
expressive significance of his text. At every point
we encounter the classically minded composer, whose
power comes not from theatrical display but rather
from carefully balanced control of harmony and
rhythm, melody, and tone color.
Brahms lends a somber color to the first movement
by omitting the violins, piccolo, clarinets, one of
his two pair of horns, trumpets, tuba, and timpani
entirely and by subdividing the violas and cellos.
The first three notes of the chorus introduce a tiny
musical cell that will recur in many guises to bind
the work together. Heard first in the choral
sopranos at their opening “Selig sind” (“Blessed are
they...”), it consists simply of the small leap of a
third followed by another step in the same
direction.
A contrasting phrase (“mit Tränen”) contains the
same cell in reverse; as the tears turn to joy, the
harp, an instrument rarely found in Brahms, surges
forth with a splash of bright sound.
The second movement begins with a slow, dark
marchlike passage in triple meter. The violins enter
for the first time in the piece, and in a high
register, as if to emphasize their arrival. The
timpani quietly sound ominous triplets. The chorus
sings in unison first softly, then in full voice as
the march theme is repeated. This is the music that
Brahms had composed for and then removed from his
early D-minor symphony. The consoling call for
patience is brightened by the woodwinds, especially
at the vivid depiction of “the early rain” in the
flute and harp. The somber funeral march recurs and
rises to a climax. This time it turns into a
wonderfully energetic chorus on “the ransomed of the
Lord”; for all its power, it ends with a magical
tranquility.
The baritone solo begins the third movement with
a darkly urgent recitative in dialogue with the
chorus. The fears and doubts grow. To the words, “In
what shall I hope?” the woodwinds sing pulsating
triplets that recall a passage late in Beethoven’s
Ninth Symphony (at the reference to the one who
lives “above the stars”). Rising from the depths,
the chorus asserts “My hope is in thee.” The line
quickly grows in power to a radiant climax closing
in a double fugue—one subject in the voices, another
in the orchestra—over a D pedal-point (it was here
that the timpanist overdid his exertions in the
Vienna premiere of the movement and drowned out
everything with his sustained roll).
The fourth movement is harmonically and
expressively in a new world. It is a gentle
mid-point to the entire work, filled with a sublime
tranquility, an easy calm. Not surprisingly it is
far and away the best-known passage from the entire
score.
It is followed by the afterthought that finally and
truly completed the work. Like the third movement,
the fifth features a soloist, but the contrast could
hardly be more striking. The baritone had sung of
grief, of doubt, even of despair. Here, in an
extraordinarily bright key, the soprano sings of
maternal consolation.
The opening of the sixth movement reverts
somewhat to the uncertainties of the third—at least
in the weird harmonic progressions that accompany
the baritone’s description of the “mystery” to
come—the harmonies themselves range mysteriously
from C minor to F-sharp minor (at the opposite end
of the tonal spectrum) and back. This approach
completely avoids any element that might be overtly
theatrical. Brahms’s assertion of life’s victory
over death and the sarcastic taunting cry, “O death,
where is thy sting?” are enormously forceful, but
the strength comes from such classical elements as
the sturdy harmonic progressions, not from operatic
fanfares on extra trumpets such as those found in
the Requiem settings of Berlioz or Verdi. In any
case, Brahms’s treatment of the “last trump” is
inevitably colored by the fact that Luther’s German
version calls for a last “Posaune,” or trombone, and
it is the three trombones and tuba that first
announce the great moment.
The excitement is extended into a powerful and
spacious fugue in C major. The first three notes of
the fugue subject are yet another version of the
basic thematic cell of the German Requiem, and,
indeed, the figure appears throughout the subject.
Brahms employs this tiny cell to accomplish the two
fortissimo climaxes in the fugue: beginning low in
the cellos, basses, trombones, and tuba, a rising
figure consisting entirely of repetitions of the
basic three-note cell marches purposefully through
the entire orchestral texture until picked up by the
voices (“nehmen Preis”) and carried by the higher
instruments to the most powerful and sustained chord
in the entire movement. A stretto leads to a final,
forceful statement.
The final movement is overtly like the first: it
returns to the home key, starts with the basic
thematic cell (in double bass and cello), and begins
with the same word, “Selig” (“Blessed”). But the
work of consolation has been accomplished: the
blessing is now for the dead who have gone to their
rest. The somber orchestral colors of the opening
are entirely lacking as Brahms reinstates the
clarinets, the second pair of horns, and the
violins. The final section of the movement is a
magical and subtle reworking of material from the
opening movement. To the melody originally used for
“Blessed are they that mourn,” the chorus sings, in
a remote key, “Blessed are the dead.” Working round
to the home key of F major, the sopranos soar to a
brilliant high A (as at the end of the first
movement). Here the harps enter for the first time
since the middle of the second movement, beginning
low under the sopranos’ highest note (on “Herrn”—“Lord”)
and rising to an ethereal conclusion over the final
choral murmurs of “selig” (“blessed”). The German
Requiem is Brahms’s largest work in any medium.
Here, for the first time he not only established
himself as a mature composer in the eyes of his
contemporaries but also wrote one of those special
choral works that singers return to with as much
delight as audiences, a unique masterpiece of
technique and affect expressing the universal
longings of mankind.
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I. |
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Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,
denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Die mit Tränen säen, werden mit Freuden
ernten. Sie gehen hin und weinen und tragen
edlen Samen und kommen mit Freuden und
bringen ihre Garben.
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Blessed are they that mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
[Matthew 5:4]
They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.
They go forth and weep, and bear precious
seed, and come again with rejoicing, and
bring their sheaves with them.
[Psalm 126:5-6]
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II. |
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Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras und alle
Herrlichkeit des Menschen wie des Grases
Blumen. Das Gras ist verdorret und die Blume
abgefallen.
So seid nun geduldig, liebe Brüder, bis auf
die Zukunft des Herrn.
Siehe, ein Ackermann wartet auf die
köstliche Frucht der Erde und ist geduldig
darüber, bis er
empfahe den Morgenregen und Abendregen.
Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras und alle
Herrlichkeit des Menschen wie des Grases
Blumen. Das Gras ist verdorret und die Blume
abgefallen.
Aber des Heern Wort bleibet in Ewigkeit.
Die Erlöseten des Herrn warden wieder kommen
und gen Zion kommen mit Jauchzen;
ewige Freude wird über ihrem Haupte sein;
Freude und Wonne werden sie ergreifen,
und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg müssen.
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For all flesh is as
grass, and all the glory of man as the flowers of
grass.
The grass is withered,
and the flower fallen away.
[I. Peter 1:24]
Be patient, therefore,
brethren, unto the coming of the Lord.
Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the
precious fruit of the earth, and hath long
patience for it, until he receive the
early rain and the latter rain.
[James 5:7]
For all flesh is as
grass, and all the glory of man as the flowers of
grass.
The grass is withered,
and the flower fallen away.
But the word of the Lord endureth forever.
[I. Peter 1:24-25]
And the ransomed of the
Lord shall return,
and come to Zion with
songs;
everlasting joy shall
be upon their heads;
they shall obtain joy
and gladness,
and pain and sighing
shall be made to flee.
[Isaiah 35:10]
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III. |
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Baritone solo:
Herr, lehre doch mich,
dass ein Ende
mit mir haben muss, und
mein Leben
ein Ziel hat und ich
davon muss.
Siehe, meine Tage sind
einer Hand
breit vor dir, und mein
Leben ist
wie nichts vor dir.
Baritone, then chorus:
Ach, wie gar nichts
sind alle
Menschen, die doch so sicher leben!
Sie gehen daher wie ein Schemen
und machen ihnen viel vergebliche
Unruhe; sie sammeln, und wissen nicht
wer es kriegen wird.
Nun, Herr, wes soll ich mich trösten?
Ich hoffe auf dich.
Chorus:
Der Gerechten Seelen sind in Gottes Hand,
und keine Qual rühret sie an.
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Lord, make me to know
that there must
be an end of me, and
that my life
has a term, and that I
must hence.
Behold, thou hast made
my days as an
handbreadth; and mine
age is as
as nothing before thee;
Verily, every man at
his best state
is altogether vanity.
Surely every man walketh in a vain shew;
surely they are
disquieted in vain;
he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not
who shall gather them.
And now, Lord, what is
my hope!
My hope is in thee.
[Psalm 39:4-7]
The souls of the righteous are in the hands
of God, and there shall no torment
touch them.
[Wisdom of Solomon 3:1]
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IV. |
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Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen, Herr
Zebaoth!
Meine Seele verlanget und sehnet sich
nach den Vorhöfen des Herrn;
mein Leib und Seele freuen sich in dem
lebendigen Gott.
Wohl denen, die in deinem Hause
wohnen; die loben dich immerdar.
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How amiable are thy
tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!
My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for
the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh
rejoice in the living God.
Blessed are they that
dwell in thy
house; they will still
be praising thee.
[Psalm 84:1-2, 4]
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V. |
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Soprano and Chorus:
Ihr habt nun
Traurigkeit; aber ich
will euch wieder sehen,
und euer Herz
soll sich freuen, und
eure Freude
soll niemand von euch nehmen.
Ich will euch trösten, wie einen
seine Mutter tröstet.
Sehet mich an: ich habe eine kleine
Zeit Mühe und Arbeit gehabt und habe
grossen Trost funden.
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Ye now have sorrow; but
I will
see you again, and your
heart
shall rejoice, and your
joy
no man taketh from you.
[John 16:22]
I will comfort you as
one whom his
mother comforteth.
[Isaiah 66:13]
Behold me with your
eyes: a little
while I have had
tribulation and labor,
and have found great
comfort.
[Ecclesiasticus
51:35]
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VI. |
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Chorus:
Denn wir haben hier
keine bleibende
Statt, sondern die
zukünftige suchen wir.
Baritone:
Siehe, ich sage euch
ein Geheimnis:
Wir werden nicht alle
entschlafen,
wir werden aber alle
verwandelt
werden; und dasselbige
plötzlich,
in einem Augenblick,
zur Zeit der letzten
Posaune.
Chorus:
Denn es wird die Posaune schallen,
und die Toten werden auferstehen
unverweslich, und wir werden
verwandelt werden.
Baritone:
Dann wird erfüllet werden das Wort,
das geschrieben steht:
Chorus:
“Der Tod ist
verschlungen in den Sieg.
Tod, wo ist dein Stachel?
Hölle, wo ist dein Sieg?
Herr, du bist würdig zu nehmen Preis
und Ehre und Kraft, denn du hast alle
Dinge geschaffen, und durch deinen
Willen haben sie das Wesen und sind
geschaffen.
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For here we have no
continuing
city, but we seek one
to come.
[Hebrews 13:14]
Behold I shew you a mystery:
We shall not all sleep,
but we shall all be
changed,
in a moment,
in the twinkling of an
eye,
at the last trump:
For the trumpet shall
sound,
and the dead shall be
raised
incorruptible, and we
shall
be changed.
Then shall be brought
to pass the saying that is written:
Death is swallowed up
in victory.
O death, where is thy
sting?
O grave, where is thy
victory?
[I.
Corinthians 15:51-51, 54-55]
Thou art worthy, Lord,
to receive glory
and honor and power:
for thou hast
created all things, and
for thy
pleasure they are and
were
created.
[Revelation 4:11]
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VII. |
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Selig sind die Toten, die in dem Herrn
sterben, von nun an. Ja, der Geist spricht,
dass sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit; denn ihre
Werke folgen ihnen nach.
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Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord
from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that
they may rest from their labors; and their
works do follow them.
[Revelation 14:13]
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