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Another truly sublime creation of Mozart's is the Clarinet Quintet, K. 581.As a friend of mine once put it, "Music for the Gods".
Astonishing.
Of course, I could list a hundred more Mozart works to which that word applies. He was beyond all the rest - it's all so *right*.
Also, try Ave Verum Corpus, K. 618. An amazing amount of indescribably wonderful music in a mere 46 bars.
(reviewed by Robert Grazer)
I have tried to decide for myself for a while on how to properly review an opera, since in quite a few ways the real majesty is seeing the piece itself. I have never personally attended a performance of Don Giovanni, generally regarded as the greatest opera ever written, though I have watched one on film, and I do own a copy of the music itself on CDs. I have long dreamt of being able to see a decent performance of the piece with all of the elaborate costumes and so on, but for now I must settle with just my own imagination, and face this monster of a piece the way I would generally face any concept album. Of course, one thing that really struck me, coming from a background of rock listening, when I first opened my copy of Giovanni and began looking through it, even before putting in the music itself, was the sheer enormity of it. The 288-page booklet contains history and commentary on the opera, synopsis and complete libretto in four languages (English, Italian, French, and German), and various pictures of cast members and an eleven-page track listing. Never mind that the opera itself is a staggering two hours and forty-four minutes -- it should go without saying that this is not for the impatient listener.
But here is certainly a major reason this is generally considered to be the greatest opera ever written, and while I cannot claim to have heard enough to either support or refute that claim, it is hard to deny all of the levels that Don Giovanni succeeds on. It's all at once exciting, funny, terrifying, moving, and simply a sheer joy to listen to. Though it is, above all, as Kierkegaard once wrote, a seduction of the senses. For those who don't know the libretto mostly concerns a fairly basic Don Juan story, in which the protagonist parades around Spain in conquest of every female that catches his eye until the vengeful Commandatore drags him off into Hell. The possibilities that this leaves for Mozart's unmatched capabilities are innumerable, and yet by the end of the opera he seems to have covered every single one, transporting the audience into a fantastic world of the ultimate libertine. Those familiar with the Don Juan legend may find little to excite within the libretto itself, but to see it presented like this, to see these colourful characters (Giovanni the libertine, Leporello his servant, Elvira, Zerlina and others) come to life in such a breathtaking manner is something completely new, an experience unlike anything I have either heard or heard of, and it still sounds excellent even over two hundred years after its release.
The opening overture very much sets the mood and pattern for the entire opera. It sounds off with a pair of dark chords, symbolic of the Commandatore, who in himself is by far the most horrifying character in the opera, an icon of dark virtue constantly trying to stop the Don, but around two minutes in and for the rest of the overture itself the Don sort of musically breaks free, the Commandatore's honour and virtue not being able to catch up, being too slow, perhaps, too old in their manner of thinking to keep in step with such a shamelessly hedonistic lifestyle as that of Don Giovanni. And the transition into the actual opera, Leporello's first aria is seamless, even if many copies of the opera now have a slight pause between the two on my copy, there hardly needs to be (and often isn't), a perfect mood-setting piece, indeed.
And the music does not slag after this. The first act in itself is incredibly complete -- many say that the opera could have finished just after the first act itself with only the scenes with the Commandatore from the second act added on. There is no doubt that many have already heard many of the melodies from the first act itself, the arias "Madamina, il catalogo è questo" (the catalogue aria) and "Fin Ch’han dal vino " (the champagne aria), as well as the "Là ci darem la mano" duet, where the Italian may not quite mean much to some readers, but the most have likely heard the melody itself. But even the more well-known pieces aside, the music to the entire act backs the speed, seduction and drama of the entire piece. One can almost feel the grief of Donna Anna as she mourns her father's death in the opening scene, and the plots for revenge from there. Or any time that Giovanni takes the stage there is a strange sound around him, indeed a seduction of the listener, making each of his acts seem more appealing as he drifts between conquests. Of course within the play itself he never actually succeeds in a conquest (which he has had 2065 successful in the past), and most of his work revolves around one person within the opera itself (Elvira) as well as trying to stay ahead of the growing number of people trying to hunt him down. The first act of the opera, above all, is just a great deal of fun to listen to in much the same way that the first act of Bizet's Carmen is, and it almost seems like no time has gone by at all by the time the curtain falls after the first seventy-five minutes or so.
The second act, however, is a little bit flawed. I won't say a single bad word about the actual climax of the opera (the famous "Don Giovanni a cenar teco"), which actually makes the opera itself out to be much darker than most of it actually is. The melodies there are certainly at their terrifying with the Commandatore's final offers for repentance, Leporello's desperate pleas with his master as well to repent, and even in the face of Hell Giovanni's obstinate refusal behind the recurring darker passages from the opera's overture, the return of what can only be referred to as the Commandatore theme, both in the sense of character and dark conservative virtue. Truly it is one of the most staggering and powerful scenes of such a protest in music, and quite a bit of contrast to the overall slow-moving second act. While this is truly a memorable scene, along with the entire hilarious dinner scene beforehand, as well as the scene where Leporello and Giovanni speak to the Commandatore's statue, much of the second act does seem noticeably inferior to the first. In fact, aside from the aforementioned scenes, I would be hard pressed to think of any other well-known melodies from the act itself, and while much of the music is still pleasant most of the time, the opera hits a rather lengthy (or at least it seems) nadir in a scene from Don Ottavio and Donna Anna, dominated by arias that have comparatively weak melodies when held against some of those from the first act.
Nonetheless, the entire opera is worth owning, mostly to have this grand piece of music, the sheer enormity of it in its entirety. There are indeed few pieces this long by even the greatest musical geniuses that are not flawed to at least some degree, though several (often absurd) theories have popped up about some of the work behind the music here (a personal favourite being that Mozart himself may have been playing a little bit of the libertine with the soprano playing Anna, which would explain her lengthy and unnecessary pieces in the second act), as well as the (unlikely) connection between the Commandatore and Leopold Mozart. But what remains along with all of these legends is the music itself, the first of Mozart's last hundred pieces, which I have slowly begun to make plans to familiarise myself with, and one of the ultimate musical landmarks. Opera may be a bit of an acquired taste nowadays, since, along with ballet, it seems the style of classical music so commonly considered to be ridiculous and dated. But there is nothing dated about Don Giovanni, since even in its slowest, least interesting moments, it still sounds exactly like what it is: a work of true genius.
(reviewed by Robert Grazer)
HIGH POINTS: Confutatis/Lacrimosa, Introitis/Kyrie, Dies Irae, Agnus Dei, Domine Jesu, Rex Traemendae, Sanctus, Benedictus. LOW POINTS: None.
Both one of the most acclaimed and most debated works in the history of music, Mozart's final piece is surrounded with mystery, no matter how much some would prefer to simplify the history around it. However, I myself am not exactly sure where I stand on this, even after reading several sources about it. For those of you who don't know, Mozart actually didn't write a good deal of his Requiem, since he died before he finished. However, while some people get into rather long debates over who actually sat down and finished writing, most sources I've read seem to agree that it was one of his pupils (the name escapes me at the moment) to whom Mozart gave specific instructions regarding the completion of this piece. Thus, while he never lived to hear this performed in its entirety or even fully written down, Mozart still pretty knew what he wanted for it.
There is also some mystery over who commissioned the Mass from him. It's been said that there was some sort of middle-man between who actually went to Mozart in person and who it was that wanted the Mass, which has been played on in several different ways is different historical and fictional accounts. Of course, some skeptics like to ruin all of the fun and take the answer that it was a certain nobleman (I forget the name) who had the Mass performed for his wife (I think). What is an interesting side note about Mozart's work on the Requiem Mass is that it is widely believed (though once again some disagree) that he eventually began to think he was writing the Mass for himself, which is an almost disturbingly dark thing to think about while listening to this piece.
All this history aside, K. 626 stands as one of the absolute peaks of music of any sort, one of most powerful pieces of music I've ever come across. And I'm not alone on that at all. This is easily one of Mozart's and classical music's most popular pieces as a whole. Many of Mozart's late period works have gone down as some of his peaks as a composer, and this is no exception to that. I've seen it voted his best all around piece in a few polls, and revered by nearly everyone who seriously looks into it. Whether you're a fan of classical music as a whole or don't even think you're interested in old 'dead' music, I still urge you to look into this. Despite your preference for song lengths, this can still satisfy, whether taken as an entire 40+ minute work or the with shorter individual pieces, whether it's atmospheric quiet or intense choral pieces, if you have any interest in music at all, pick up a copy of this.
The whole Mass is in Latin, which may make it hard for the non-pop/rock music fan to understand the words, but I've gone through and looked at several translations of the movements here (even memorized some parts, which makes it easier to grow used to other composers' arrangements of the words), simply out of curiosity as to what all of this means. The words themselves are formed beautifully in Latin, brining forth prayers and condemnations, fear and peace. I'll go through and use a few specific Latin quotes and include a short translation by it. There are several translations, and they aren't very hard to find and study on the web, if you're into that sort of thing.
And so we open with the "Introitis", the building strings move into the deep choral sections, praying for eternal rest, begging God to always shine 'et lux perpetua' (light eternal. There is a light that never goes out indeed). It's long amazed me how ghostly the higher voices in the choir sound, like these pale-faces in long white robes crying as they scream out these words. There's also a small solo section for soprano half way through, letting up for a moment before the choral intensity returns. I'm completely in awe of how well the violins work backing the voices.
Moving from that we hit "Kyrie", which can more or less be considered an extension of the opening piece (which is why I listed it as such above) sometimes fused together with it into a single track, and it boasts of (and I'm not exaggerating here at all) the BEST vocal melody I have ever heard. There are only three lines, each of only two words (Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy on us, Christe Eleison, Christ have mercy on us, then a repeating of the first line) but the complexity of the vocal melody is something we can hardly imagine in today's simplistic musical landscape. Rather than relying on chance to pick out a couple notes that may or may not sound good together Mozart worked out a pattern of voice that is no less than genius. It's a cry for mercy, one that has not been paralleled, or even approached, in over two centuries since it's creation.
The intensity continues to flow into "Dies Irae", the day of death. One of the more famous sections to this or any requiem, with a whirling sound that I once read described as illustrating the soul spiraling toward the judgment. Traditionally one of the most powerful sections of a requiem mass, depicting God's wrath, the "Dies Irae" in Mozart's own work is nor less breathtaking than it was two hundred years ago. It adds up to another utterly astounding piece of work, one that honestly must be experienced for oneself, particularly during the soaring climax (the final "Cuncta stricte" lyrical bits). Once again the choir sounds terrifyingly ghost-like. And it's just a hair over two minutes. Never have I ever heard so much power in so little song.
We finally get a small break in the mellower "Tuba Mirum" which features several outstanding solo sections. It may be a slow build for some after the louder sounds of the first three sections, but I think it serves to be a much-needed break lest the listener become completely overwhelmed with this Mass of Death. The lyrics concern the soul's arrival in heaven and the penning of the Book, but the Latin words flow together so beautifully that it doesn't matter what your personal beliefs are; the soft sense of fear in the midst of peace, even in the words themselves, is enough to stir any human heart.
"Rex Traemendae" is but an interlude (or short enough to be such), another choral piece opening with a descending string section crashing into an uprising choral piece causing a complete musical explosion. But one is needed. After all, "Rex Traemendae" (the ruling King of Majesty) is the center of this short piece, which serves as almost an introduction to God Almighty. Needless to say, the music is no less mighty than the theme. Following this interlude, we then offer up another prayer with the "Recordardae" which wraps the listener up into a woodwind solo (beats me what the actual instrument is, I'd take a guess but I'd probably be wrong) introducing some quiet and peaceful choral sections, another moment of piece contrasting the two louder surrounding sections.
The absolute pinnacle of this astonishing piece of music begins with the consuming fires of Hell in "Confutatis" which juxtaposes a fiery tenor chant of the title and surrounding descriptions of the Hell with the soprano prayer to be counted with the righteous. Rather than contrasting the more intense pieces with the quieter prayers and reflections track by track that has been some so far, the calm and the storm clash within the same song. Continuing right where that left off is the "Lacrymosa", probably the most moving section of the entire piece. It is the final cry for the deceased, the final look before he moves on to face the after-life. The violin notes are in two-note pieces, moving all over the pace in a determined yet varying pace. Words can't describe the incredible beauty of this piece, it truly must be heard to believed. Alone it makes the entire mass worth the price and then some. It's that good.
The above sections (from "Dies Irae" through "Lacrymosa", the "Sequenz" section) were actually a later addition to the Requiem rites and were not included in earlier masses form other composers (from what I've read, anyway). As such, the original change would have brought us right past the judgment to "Domine Jesu" (the "Offertorium" section). I love the way the lower voices are suddenly overtaken by the shouts of "Rex Glorie" as the piece continues., though my favorite section is the female solo toward the middle. "Hostias" continues in a similar vein, though it begins with a more reflective piece before moving into moments of praise.
The boom of the choir's repetition of the title at the beginning of "Sanctus" screams out “Holy! Holy! Holy!" as a piece of praise, a moment of joy after all of the darkness and depression of the first two-thirds of the Moving off to a mellower note we have "Benedictus" which repeats the Latin "Benedictus qui venit en nomine Domini" (Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord) slowly building up to a shout to God in the end, crying "Hosanna!" to the sky, reprising the same line form the previous track. It's a brilliant build-up, one that ranks among the best, most triumphant moments in the entire piece.
And, finally (well, sort of), "Agnus Dei" offers up a hymn to heaven, a haunting refrain calling out a final time for rest to be granted to the departed. It's a chilling final moment, marked by a slow pace and instrumental backing to the full choir's call. A quiet call, the ghost-like choir seems to be offering up one more prayer in the hopes that they will be heard. Every performance I've heard of this piece gives the "Agnus Dei" section the same ominous chill, affecting surroundings with a cold and holy sound of death. And when every performance has the same powerful effect, it's more than obvious that it is the composition itself that is the work of a true genius.
Following "Agnus Dei" comes two sections not always present in all versions of the Requiem. The music is mostly a reprise of earlier melodies form the first couple movements. Together grouped as "Lux Aeterna" and "Cum Sanctis Tuis" (usually referred to as a single track under just the first title) it brings back the melodies of the "Introitis" and "Kyrie" sections earlier on and puts the final words to them. It picks up where the soprano solo originally was and works toward the end from there, perhaps finishing off the entire piece with a bang as opposed to the more whimper-like "Agnus Dei". They both finish it in such a way that whether you'd like the full blast of "Lux Aeterna" or the quiet reflection, the Requiem Mass finishes with the same perfection with which it began.
And there it is. One of the very few musical works of any kind that can boast of being perfect in every note, and one of the most moving collections of notes ever penned. You can actually find performances with Latin prayers in between certain musical numbers, if you want a full thing like that. I’ve got three copies of it myself, two bought and one burned from another performance, and all of them capture the piece at its best. So I wouldn't really worry about finding a good version of it, nearly all will prove quite rewarding; I'd venture to say. If there is even the smallest but objectivity in music, the one true and certain statement that can be made is that this Requiem Mass is the single most inspired, intense, and greatest musical work of any kind ever created. Period.
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COMMENTS
[email protected] (John Sieber)
If you like listening to it, try singing in a chorus performing it. Wow.
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