Vanguard Voices with Dearborn Symphony Chamber Orchestra
G. Kevin Dewey, Conductor

Thursday, May 22, 2008, 7:30 p.m.
First United Methodist Church, Dearborn

Intermission

Program Notes

"Reflections on a Bach Experience"
By Pamela Willwerth Aue

As an occasional program notes writer, I always hope I’ll read enough about any given piece of music or its composer to learn something that hasn’t become obvious to me during months of learning and practicing the work itself. If I come across something in my research that makes me say, “Hey, isn’t that interesting?” I figure others might think so, too.

With Bach’s Mass in B Minor, the problem is not finding those interesting “somethings.” What’s hard is trying to figure out which pieces of fascinating information to include, and which to reluctantly leave in the pile of research. What an amazing piece of music this is! It has been a privilege not only to learn and listen to this masterwork, but also to try to find a few words with which to introduce it to you here.

Where to begin? Should the focus be on the exquisite musical structure that supports the spiritual significance of the text in both overt and subtle ways? What about the history of the various components, and their earlier incarnations in Bach’s massive output of music? Or speculation that the Mass was Bach’s intentional capstone at the end of his long compositional career? And what about the question of why Bach, a devout Lutheran church musician, composed such a massive musical setting of the Ordinary of the Roman (Catholic) Mass in the first place?

There is no definitive answer as to why Johann Sebastian Bach, Lutheran church musician extraordinaire, chose to (a) compose a work based exclusively on the Roman mass, and (b) create a sacred work of this magnitude that was so lengthy it could never be used in its entirety in a normal church setting. However, many scholars believe that Bach wished to leave behind a masterwork—an ideal of sacred music—that not only expressed his intense, personal Christian faith, but did so using the widely accessible Latin liturgy that was, and still is, the most universal text of Christendom.

As you can see from the program listing, today’s performance will not include every component of what is now known as Bach’s Mass in B Minor. Don’t worry; Bach never heard the work performed in its entirety, either. Scholars note that Bach didn’t even give the work as a whole a title, instead writing his 1747 or 1748 manuscript as four separately-named sections—Missa; Symbolum Nicenum; Sanctus; and Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei and Dona nobis pacem. Significantly, however, the parts are numbered “I” through “IV,” and Bach placed his signature closing initials, “S.D.G.” (for “Soli Deo Gloria”—“to the glory of God alone”) only at the end of the Dona nobis pacem that closes the fourth section. Taken together, these and other clues strongly suggest that Bach intended for the work to be considered—although not necessarily ever performed—as a comprehensive whole.

Regarding Bach’s use of this Latin text as an expression of personal faith, two points are worth special mention here. Part one, known as the Missa, includes twelve components which are grouped into two major sections. The three-part “Kyrie-Christe-Kyrie” is followed by the “Gloria,” which comprises nine sections, of which the central one is a lovely setting of the text, “Domine Deus.” In this duet, which is not included in tonight’s performance, one voice sings the Latin text that is translated “Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father almighty,” while the other sings, simultaneously, “Lord, the only begotten Son, Jesus Christ most high.” Only by listening very carefully—and perhaps reading along in the score—does this become obvious, so intricately entwined are the lines of music and text!

Scholars suggest that this unconventional use of liturgical language was a demonstration of Bach’s profound belief in the inseparable, indivisible, nonhierarchical nature of God as both Father and Son. In fact, the duet singers do not articulate the same words simultaneously until they sing together, “Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris,” or “Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father.”
Later, in the text of the Sanctus, Bach subtly reveals his Protestant leanings when he employs the Lutheran variant of the Latin text, “Pleni sunt coeli et terra Gloria ejus,”—“Heaven and earth are full of His glory”—rather than the Roman Catholic “Gloria tua,” meaning “Thy glory.” Otherwise, Bach remains faithful to the traditional Roman text.

One more bit of “backstage” information you might find interesting is that the profoundly devout Johann Sebastian Bach, the prolific composer of cantatas and other sacred music, was also an active fan and composer of secular music throughout his lifetime. He enjoyed and was influenced by the popular music of his day, which included Italian operas that featured French dances performed between acts. Bridging a nearly impossible cultural chasm between the sacred and the secular, Bach incorporated elements of the lighthearted buoyancy of the French “gigue,” for example, in the opening of the “Gloria,” while the euphoric opening of “Et resurrexit,” evokes the triple-meter of the French “courante.” Such genius!

As you listen tonight, here are a few more thoughts to keep in mind. You really don’t need to understand the Latin text to recognize what Bach is telling us. Not only is there a translation printed in the program, but the music itself provides many clues, obvious and otherwise. The somber descending tones of “Crucifixus” exemplify the inexpressible: the suffering, death, and burial of Christ—and yet at the last moment there is, musically, a glimpse of hope, a ray of light, the almost imperceptible promise of life—the resurrection—which bursts forth after a heart-stopping silence that symbolizes the temporary dominion of death over life. And could the echoing, opening bars of the Sanctus be anything but the heavens bursting forth with angels singing “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts”? Not likely!