MASS IN B FLAT MAJOR, K275

INTRODUCTION

NO GROWNUPS ALLOWED!

This mass is strictly for children, or at least for the child in all of us.  As strident and pointed as Mozart was in “K257″, he is here once again gentle, open, and playful.  There is no scary music and no angry music.  It is fun and easy to listen to, but in the proper places serious enough to impart the necessary instruction.  It is almost all Type I singing, with yet one more instance of gratuitous polytextuality.  It dates from about the middle of 1777.

The freshly unemployed Wolfgang set out on 23 September, with his mother this time, to seek fame and fortune in Munich, Augsburg, Mannheim, and Paris, so he was not even present for the first performance in the cathedral on 21 December.  In a letter to him, Leopold praised the singing of the newly hired castrato soprano Francesco Ceccarelli.

As late as 4 September 1776, in his famous letter to Padre Martini in Bologna complaining about Colloredo’s brevity requirements, Mozart also wrote that Salzburg had no castrati due to the archbishop’s being a cheapskate.  As far as I know, “K275” is the first mass Mozart wrote knowing the soprano solo would be sung by a castrato.  However, I don’t hear any vocal personalization to showcase the additional range and flexibility such a voice would offer over the usual choirboy.  As in all of Mozart’s previous masses, no note of the soprano section or soloist goes above the G above the C above Middle C, and the solo parts are simple and without melismas.

The scoring is for two violins, bass, and organ continuo, with bassoons doubling the basses, and with 3 trombones doubling the alto, tenor, and bass vocal parts.  In B flat, there is no chance for trumpets and hence no reason for timpani (“Hey, if I’m not working for you any more, I’ll score this any way I like”).

KYRIE

Kyrie alternates soloists and chorus in a lilting, lyrical duple-time dance.  The structure is four statements of “Kyrie eleison” separated by three of “Christe eleison”.  The “Kyrie” words and “Christe” words both have two little tunes as below:

“Kyrie1“—“Christe1“—”Kyrie1″—“Christe2Kyrie2“—”Kyrie1″—”Christe2Kyrie2″—”Kyrie1”

“Kyrie1” is so wonderful we will be humming it all the way home from church and into next week.

“Christe1” does not recur, but has a little extension, in which everyone sings, “Eleison, eleison”, leading back to “Kyrie1”.  Actually, the bass does mutter a single “Kyrie”, which could technically make this extension another “Kyrie” section.  I prefer to think he’s just lost his place and comes in too early.

“Christe2” is linked rhythmically to “Kyrie1”.  “Kyrie2” completes the musical statement of “Christe2” and also leads directly back to “Kyrie1”. 

It all sounds very regular and even, but each section of text is actually a little different in length.

GLORIA

The Gloria, like that of “K257″, is like a single through-composed song arranged into brief sections.  Unlike that of “K257″, the mood is light and playful.  The sections are “Et in terra pax”, “Laudamus te”, “Gratias agimus”, “Domine Deus”, “Qui tollis”, “Quoniam”, “Cum Sancto Spiritu”, and “Amen”.  It is mostly for chorus and mostly Type I in sound.

The movement starts softly with “Et in terra pax“.  The whispered sound provides a lovely setting for the peaceful words.  The initial stepwise four-note descending fragment sounds as if it might be one which will recur.  Well, there is a stepwise downward progression of at least four notes in each section except “Amen”, though they are highly camouflaged:  neither the number of notes nor the tone intervals nor the rhythm nor the position in each section is consistent.

It occurs twice more in a row in “Et in terra pax”; once in “Laudamus te”; twice in a row at “Gratias agimus”; twice in a row in “Domine Deus” at the soprano’s entrance; three separate times in “Qui tollis”; once in “Quoniam”; and several overlapping times in “Cum Sancto Spiritu”.

Though prominent, this repetition lacks the distinctiveness of the four-note motif discussed in the Gloria of “K167” and here seems more of a minor organizational element.  I don’t know; you decide.  Besides, we are just kids here.  We should not have to listen for such hard things.

As is traditional in a Mozart Gloria, the belting out begins with “Laudamus te” and continues with “Gratias agimus“.

The soloists make their only appearance at “Domine Deus“, with staggered voice entrances barely qualifying as Type II.  Who but Mozart could take such a ludicrous musical phrase as begins this section and turn it into an affecting sort of nursery tune?

As “Qui tollis” begins, the violins’ attention begins to wander and they strike up a jaunty accompaniment with lots of trills that has nothing to do with the rest of the music.  They are so pleased with their efforts that they continue doing this for most of the rest of the movement.  The childlike naiveté of the music does not offend the usually seriously set words, but rather expresses delight in God’s taking away our sins and having mercy upon us.  Again, no one but Mozart could pull this off.

The opening theme of the Gloria does not return for “Quoniam” as it so often does, but rather there is more new music.  However, the opening rhythm of four long, even notes does recur for the only time in the movement, buried at the second statement of “Jesu Christe”, but again, is this any more than just another minor organizational element?  Go ask your mum.

The chorus present a perfunctory Type II treatment of “Cum Sancto Spiritu” and proceed to “Amen“.  They suddenly become quiet, reminding us of the beginning of the movement.  The theme is a repeat, but not of the whispered very first words.  Rather it is the music of the “Laudamus te”, which paradoxically was the first loud music of the movement.  The violins, oblivious to everyone else, continue to play with their trills as if they do not know that the movement is about to end.  The chorus get their attention by suddenly shouting the violins’ theme for the final “Amen”.

CREDO

The Credo is in three sections:  fast-slow-fast.

The first section is a jolly march for Type I chorus.  The violins discover another irrepressible figure and lead the way as we all dance around the church.  There are only two recurring themes of note in the choral part, but they both play important roles.  Theme 1 is the infectious tune at the very beginning, on the words “Patrem omnipotentem“.

Contrasting material appears at “Et in unum Dominum“, with just the tail end of Theme 1 at the end.  “Deum de Deo” offers more new material.  Slightly elongated, Theme 1 returns at “Qui propter nos homines“.  Nobody is having as much fun as the violins, who continue to have an agenda of their own and appear to be inventing tunes as they go along.  Finally, on the third repetition of “descendit“, the music agrees to descend and we must sit down, too, as the serious part of the lesson is about to begin.

For the slow section, the soloists gently intone “Et incarnatus est” and, on the same tune, the chorus offer “Crucifixus” as a sad and noble hymn.

Then it’s everybody up again at “Et resurrexit” as the march rhythm resumes.  An ascending theme is here rather than at the words “Et ascendit in caelum” which follow.  We want to hear the infectious Theme 1 again, but Mozart teases us with it a couple of times first.  It appears in altered form at “Et ascendit in caelum“.  Theme 2, the second recurring theme (which is identical to “Et in terra pax” in the Gloria, makes its first of two brief appearances, at “vivos et mortuos“.  The tail end of Theme 1 is used again in “Cuius regni non erit finis” just enough to point a playful if emphatic finger while repeating the word “non”.

The soloists give us one more serious lesson at “Et in Spiritum Sanctum”—and yet one more episode of gratuitous polytextuality.  As in “K259″, the telescoping of voices serves no useful purpose, with the Credo already short and tidy.  As a matter fact, it’s so intentionally disjointed as to be certifiably nuts; Perhaps Mozart is just waving his vocal parts at the Archbishop as if to say, “What are you going to do, fire me?”

Text in order:

Mozart’s text order:

The chorus return with Theme 1 at “Et unam sanctam catholicam“, but in the minor mode.  Theme 2 returns for “Et exspecto resurrectionem“, with the same respectful phrase used for “mortuorum” as had been used earlier for “et mortuos”.  Finally Theme 1 returns in all its glory at “Et vitam venturi saeculi” and “Amen”.

SANCTUS

While the violins invent yet one more cheerful countermelody, the voices of the chorus come in one after another on the word “Sanctus”, creating not so much a Type II sound as a layered effect culminating in a lush sound where everyone sings and plays together.  This leads directly into “Hosanna“, marked by a playful figure in which the sopranos go one way and the altos and tenors go the other way, like a mirror.

BENEDICTUS

“Benedictus qui venit” is a childlike song for soprano solo.  This would have been an opportunity to showcase the powerful, flexible voice of Ceccarelli.  Instead it is a simple, gentle melody, well within a choirboy’s range and ability.  Perhaps Mozart was thinking that while castrati might come and go, there would always be choirboys.

AGNUS DEI

We can stay right where we are for “Agnus Dei”.  Though serious and “churchy”, its sound is also comforting and enveloping like a blanket.  It is best listened to with eyes closed and if we should nod off, the sound will still come through.  The music does not stay in any one key very long but flows effortlessly among several.  Organization is achieved through the simple mechanism of two recurring themes, each preceded by the same four-note violin figure that begins the movement.  Theme 1 occurs at the first “Agnus Dei“,  Theme 2 occurs at the first “Miserere“,  Theme 2 recurs at the second “Miserere“, and Theme 1 recurs at the last “Qui tollis peccata mundi“.

DONA NOBIS PACEM

A variation of Theme 1, moved from the minor to the major mode, introduces “Dona nobis pacem” but does not yet break the reverie.  But when the soprano sings again, it’s time to wake up and get ready to go home.

Our friends the scholars have noted that this section is set as a gavotte, a lively, rustic French peasant dance in duple time that starts with two upbeat notes and has short, rhythmic phrases and often a droning part meant to sound like bagpipes.  It was danced in a line or a circle and the dancers hopped and skipped from foot to foot rather than sliding their feet.  As if this were not scandalous enough all by itself, each couple would then take a turn dancing alone, at the conclusion of which the man would kiss his partner and then kiss all the other women.

Here it’s the voices that do the hopping and skipping, sounding like grownups just having a good time.  The orchestra and chorus make their presences known a couple of times, but the section clearly belongs to the soloists, who deliver a single jolly theme over and over, separated by brief bridging material.  As in the setting of “Dona nobis pacem” in “K257″, the music goes on too long, but here at least Mozart has regained his irreverent perspective, so we just go along with it until he’s wrung it dry.  The best moments come when first the soprano but especially the tenor slows the music dramatically only to introduce yet another round of repetitions.  Suddenly with a bow and a wink and just a little bit of a drone, the movement comes to a close, quietly and elegantly—and without kissing.

One of Europe’s most enthusiastic supporters of the gavotte was Marie Antoinette, youngest daughter of Empress Maria Theresa and now queen of France.  Mozart and she had met in Vienna when both were six years old.  He had slipped on the polished floor, she had helped him up, and he had proposed marriage to her.  A year later, he had played for King Louis XV of France.  Since he was now headed to Paris, perhaps he imagined he would be invited to Versailles, catch up on old times, and play music with her (she studied with Gluck, sang and danced well, and played the harp, harpsichord, and flute).  The archbishop may not have been amused by a gavotte in a mass, but she would have been.

Alas, Mozart failed to secure a letter of introduction to the court and no audience was offered.  His mother fell ill and died and in January, 1779, he returned to Salzburg, where Leopold was able to beg his old job back, even with the added title of court organist.

–10/15/2016