MASS IN C MAJOR K317
INTRODUCTION
Mozart’s venture into the world with his mother had been unsuccessful as far as a new position was concerned, but he came back more worldly and self-confident. Without his father’s presence and active suppression of friendships with women, Wolfgang had a bawdy flirtation with his cousin Anna Maria Thekla Mozart in Augsburg, which may not have actually involved sex, but it definitely awakened his sexual feelings. He later met Aloisia Weber in Mannheim and became infatuated with her but could not see that it was one-sided. He gave her singing lessons that helped launch her career. On the way back from Paris, he re-encountered her in Munich, now quite successful, and was promptly jilted, whereupon he sat down at the piano and ad libbed a song with the words, “Whoever doesn’t want me can lick my ass”. After fifteen months of lies, intrigues, his own political ineptness—and, of course, suffering the death of his mother, for which his father blamed him—he returned to Salzburg on 15 January 1779 quite a bit more grown up.
This mass, which he must have begun almost immediately, is evidence of that. This is music for adults—graceful, sophisticated, tasteful, smooth—I would go so far as to say slick. If it lacks anything for our ears, it is the spirit of playfulness and irreverence we have seen in so many of his earlier masses. If you have heard only one Mozart mass, it was probably this one. Its popularity is reflected in the number of recordings—44 as of today. The next closest is the next in our series and the last of the Salzburg masses, “K337″, with 12 recordings.
In Mannheim, when Mozart was not mooning over Aloisia Weber, he stayed with Christian Cannabich, the conductor of the city’s famous orchestra, widely considered the best in Europe. Among the local composers’ influential innovations were independent wind instrument parts, dramatic ascending arpeggios, bird sounds, sighing sounds, and sudden pauses, set over both gradual and sudden changes from loud to soft and soft to loud. In this mass, Mozart seems to have seized upon trying out the sudden change from loud to soft, using it several times in the Kyrie, the Credo, and the Benedictus.
Clearly commissioned by Colloredo, and with all his favorite flourishes, “K317” was first performed in the cathedral on 4 April, Easter Sunday. This must have been a showcase offering by the archbishop to his prodigal employee, the condition of whose reinstatement was that he “…irreproachably and with unremitting diligence acquit himself of his required duties …” Acquit he does, with no gavottes, no musical jokes, no barbs directed at his employer (well, maybe one), and ample platform to demonstrate the talents of the expensive Ceccarelli. The sound is bright and exultant, wonderfully suited for the joy of Easter.
The scoring is for two violins, bass, and organ continuo with bassoons doubling the bass, two trumpets, timpani, two horns, two oboes, and 3 trombones doubling the alto, tenor, and bass vocal parts.
KYRIE
Kyrie begins with a slow, stately choral introduction in duple time, with the first use of the Mannheim loud-soft gimmick. There follows a faster section for soloists, beginning with the cheerful, folklike melody introduced by the soprano. In rapid succession, six more phrases appear. Actually they are all variants of the first one and the effect is a sort of rhapsody. Phrase 1 and Phrase 2 are for soprano, Phrase 3 for tenor, Phrase 4 for soprano, Phrase 5 for soprano and tenor, Phrase 6 for tenor, and Phrase 7 for soprano. Phrase 5 is the only setting in the movement of the words “Christe eleison”. Phrase 7 leads directly into a choral reprise of the slow introduction. The music becomes hushed and the ending is a reverent prayer. The orchestra has the last word, intoning the soprano’s Phrase 1. None of the others repeats here, but all do at the end of the mass.
GLORIA
Gloria has several structural devices. Before we start, let me dispense with one you may have encountered if you are familiar with the mass. Many liner notes and discussions will tell you helpfully that this movement is in sonata form. I have traced this peculiar opinion to one particular sage, who has been freely copied for many years.
Well, this is just silly. Sonata form needs, at the minimum, a Theme A group in the tonic, or main, key; a transition to a Theme B group in the dominant key, five notes higher; a development involving parts of both themes; a return of Theme A in the tonic; a return of Theme B in the tonic; and some sort of ending to tie it all up.
“Gloria in excelsis” is indeed in the tonic key here, C major. “Domine Deus” is indeed in the dominant key, G major. Then “Qui tollis” visits various keys, but its material has nothing to do with any of the previous themes. It leads back to the themes of “Gloria” at “Quoniam” in C major, but the theme of “Domine Deus” never reappears in any key. Not sonata form.
By the way, the settings of “Domine Deus” in “K194″, “K220″, “K262″, “K258″, “K259″, “K257″, and “K275” are all in the dominant key, but none of those Glorias is in sonata form, either.
The text is divided into Mozart’s usual eight or so sections: “Gloria”, “Laudamus te”, “Gratias agimus”, “Domine Deus”, “Qui tollis”, “Quoniam”, “Cum Sancto Spiritu”, and “Amen”. There are seven musical phrases for chorus alternating with six for soloists. Among these are eleven themes, seven of which repeat.
Except for “Domine Deus”, however, there’s not a hummable tune in the bunch. Most of the themes are little more than oddly-shaped fragments in themselves, sounding more like transitions headed for “real” themes that never materialize, but the net effect propels the movement forward with a cheerful, unflagging energy.
If the Gloria of “K192” was beads on a string and the Kyrie of “K258” was a jigsaw puzzle, I would call this Gloria a mosaic of different-sized pieces of text, musical themes, and voice combinations that don’t look like much up close but are quite pleasing from a distance.
The first “stone” is set with the first two repetitions of the word “Gloria” at Theme 1. The “ticking” notes of the orchestral accompaniment sound distinctly as if the movement will be in duple time. However, when we step back and the singing begins in earnest, it is clear that this is really triple time, Theme 2, on the words “Gloria, Gloria in excelsis Deo“.
Theme 3 is at “Et in terra pax hominibus“, followed by Theme 4 at “Bonae voluntatis“.
After an important-sounding phrase in the orchestra, the chorus begin Theme 5 at “Laudamus te“. This is memorable primarily because the soloists make their first appearance at “Benedicimus te” and “Adoramus te” in stunning tight, shiny harmony, with golden glitter dripping from the violins and oboes. The chorus conclude with “Glorificamus te”.
A minute bridging theme at “Gratimus agimus tibi” and the return of Theme 3 for “Propter magnam gloriam tuam” lead directly to the soloists’ simple, folklike theme at “Domine Deus“, which does not repeat.
The “Qui tollis” section takes up about one-third of the movement, but still sounds as if it’s going somewhere it never gets to. The chorus sing Theme 6 at “Qui tollis peccata mundi“, which sort of curves up to fit against the soloists’ Theme 7 at “Miserere nobis”. The soloists sort of curve back down to the chorus, who sing Theme 6 again with “Qui tollis peccata mundi“. The soloists answer with Theme 7 at “Suscipe“. The chorus introduce a contrasting but still wayward nonrepeating theme for “Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris“. The soloists sing Theme 7 one more time at “Miserere nobis“. Each repetition of Theme 6 and Theme 7 is slightly different, but they all fit together nicely and make a nice shape.
The return of the opening music of the movement at “Quoniam” is welcome after all that meandering. Mozart repeats just enough of the words to expand the three parts of the text to fit the first three themes, but at odd breaks. Theme 1 encompasses “Quoniam tu solus, solus Sanctus, tu solus, solus…”; with the sopranos now singing the “filler” material the violins played at the beginning of the movement. Theme 2 reappears at “…Dominus, quoniam, tu solus, tu solus Sanctus…”; and Theme 3 at “…tu solus Sanctus, Dominus, tu solus Altissimus“. Three stones for one pattern.
Theme 4 recurs for “Jesu Christe“.
Just the first part of theme 5—chorus only, no soloists, no glitter—recurs for “Cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris“, preceded as before by the important-sounding orchestral phrase. The soloists save their best for last, an all new and all too brief nonrepeating theme with cascading entrances for “Amen“. Finally the chorus have a brief coda and join the orchestra in the important-sounding phrase for the big finish.
Not sonata form.
But wait just a minute before we stop. While we’re celebrating Mozart’s joyful and obedient return to the archbishop’s yoke of servitude, we must take a closer look at that one hummable tune, the soloists’ “Domine Deus”, the smooth round stone amidst many oddly-shaped ones. It sounds like Type I singing, the same as the rest of the movement, with the soprano leading and a little overlap from the other voices. However, it is really Mozart’s cleverest and most diabolical use ever of gratuitous polytextuality, so subtle as to be almost undetectable to the ear.
Here are the words in order, lending themselves generally to four musical phrases:
Domine Deus, Rex coelestis,
Deus Pater omnipotens.
Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe.
Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris.
Mozart does it in two and a half. For the first phrase, the soprano sings the first line and the bass sings the second line, overlapping slightly, tastefully, legally. Then, for the second phrase, the soprano and alto sing merrily in unison, sounding for all the world like the same words, but it’s really the next two lines of text simultaneously, with the syllables overlapping exactly. Having gotten away with auditory murder, he now for the foreshortened third phrase has the soprano and tenor finish innocently on the last two words of the text, as if they had gotten there legitimately, while the alto and bass inexplicably sing disconnected elements of the third phrase. Gorgeous, quick, slick—and dirty.
Soprano: Domine Deus, Rex caelestis. Domine Fi- li u- ni- genite, Jesu
Alto: Domine Deus, Agnus De- i, Fi-li-
Tenor: Jesu
Bass: Deus Pater Pater omnipotens. Fi- li-us
Soprano: Christe, Jesu Christe, Ag- nus Dei, Fi-li-us Pa-tris
Alto: us Pa- tris Domine Fi- li Jesu Christe
Tenor: Christe, Jesu Christe, A- gnus Dei, Fi-li-us Pa-tris
Bass: Filius Pa- tris, Domine Fi- li, Jesu Christe
CREDO
The Credo follows the by now familiar pattern of fast sections beginning at “Credo in unum Deum” and “Et resurrexit” encompassing a slow section on “Et incarnatus est” and “Crucifixus”.
The music begins at a breakneck pace, like a galloping horse, as if to make up time for the lilting Gloria so the mass does not run too long (in truth, this is one of Mozart’s longer Credos, and “K317” is actually one of his longer masses, at close to twenty-six minutes). The first fast section is all chorus. There are seven themes in all in both fast sections and only Theme 5 does not repeat. Since all the themes are brief (around ten seconds) and all but Theme 1 are built on a stepwise descending phrase, it may be argued that Themes 2-7 are really just variants of the same thing. Nonetheless, their sounds are different and several are used for very specific functions, justifying their having separate status.
Theme 1 begins with “Credo in unum Deum“, the repeated single note nicely painting the text “one God”. Theme 2 begins at “factorem coeli et terrae“. Theme 3, with another use of the Mannheim loud-soft, begins at “Et in unum Dominum“. Theme 4 begins at “Et ex Patre natum“. Theme 5 begins at “Deum de Deo“.
Theme 1 returns for “Genitum, non factum“. Theme 6 appears for “per quem omnia facta sunt“. Theme 2 returns at “Qui propter nos homines” and runs through the first iteration of “descendit de caelis”. The rest of the music for the rest of the repetitions of “descendit de caelis” are little more than fragments of the rather undistinguished Theme 2, but are here transformed into a joyous cadence which deserves separate listing as Theme 7.
The music continues without a pause, but suddenly slows to a walk and the soloists emerge with “Et incarnatus est“. Again, the harmony is in tight, blocklike chords. The initial dissonant sound gives way to a gentle close. The chorus continue the block chords at “Crucifixus“. A mood of tension and indignation increases until the word “passus”, when the music becomes quiet and resigned. There is absolutely no sense of time urgency here, and the brief section of text takes up almost one-third of the movement.
The galloping Theme 1 returns at “Et resurrexit“, Theme 2 at “Et ascendit“, and Theme 3 at “Et iterum venturus est“. Note that this subsection contains the words “et mortuos”, for which in each previous mass Mozart has paused respectfully as if making a musical sign of the cross. Here the pace of the music does not flag at all. Theme 4 returns at “cuius regni non erit finis“.
By now we are not surprised to find something completely different from the rest of the Gloria for “Et in Spiritum Sanctum“. Following a flourish of trumpets and a sudden key change, the soloists burst in with an exuberant song accompanied by a manic figure in the violins. Indeed, the sound is so infectious, I imagine the quartet running about as they sing and throwing flowers to the congregation.
The chorus return to finish the movement. Theme 1 returns at “Et unam sanctam catholicam“, followed by Theme 6 at “Confiteor unam baptisma“. Theme 3 at “Et exspecto resurrectionem” slows reverentially for “mortuorum”, and Theme 4 proceeds to “Et vitam venturi saeculi“. Finally Theme 7, the butterfly transformation of the “caterpillar” Theme 2, finishes the movement with a glorious “Amen“.
Since this mass is so popular, commentaries abound, and that same sage who found sonata form in Gloria sees a rondo in Credo, and many liner notes have followed suit. The first theme appears four times, but a rondo needs more than that. Rondo form begins and ends with the same theme, usually a catchy tune, with specific contrasting material in between repeats. If the first theme is A and it appears four times, then the form should be: A B A C A B A.
If we use this structure, A has to be Theme 1, “Credo in unum Deum“. It’s not exactly catchy, since it’s mostly one note, but it is vigorous and recognizable. The only candidate for B is Theme 3 at “Et in unum Dominum“, which does not have a contrasting character, but at least is in a different key. A returns at “Genitum, non factum“. A coda leads to a dramatic slowing. “Et incarnatus est” is then obviously C. A returns at “Et resurrexit“, followed by B at “Et iterum venturus est“. But instead of a rousing finish on A, the music turns to an all new D at “Et in spiritum sanctum“. A makes a final appearance at “Et unam sanctam catholicam” but still does not finish the movement. Instead, B makes another appearance at “Et exspecto resurrectionem” and the finish is borrowed from the coda that followed the second appearance of A. The structure of the movement is thus: A B A coda C A B D A B coda. If you want to call that a variant of rondo, fine. I wouldn’t.
What Mozart does with the four repeats of the first theme is so much more sophisticated. He spreads his seven short themes around in a patchwork quilt so that none of the pieces is quite the same shape as the others. There are four iterations of Theme 1, three of Theme 2, three of Theme 3, three of Theme 4, two each of Themes 6 and 7, and one of Theme 5.
1 2 3 4 5
1 6 2 7
“Et incarnatus est”
1 2 3 4
“Et in Spiritum Sanctum”
1 6 3 4 7
Whatever that is, it’s not a rondo.
SANCTUS
“Sanctus”, in slow triple time, for Type I chorus, is both solemn and festive. The sound of the chorus is like chords on a giant organ. The pace picks up for “Hosanna“, but the sound of a hymn of praise is the same.
BENEDICTUS
By the time the soloists, whether women, men (including castrati), girls, or boys have finished this quartet, they are truly entitled to call each other family. Between the tight harmony of the alto and tenor and the soaring entrances of the soprano and bass, all sung in subdued voices, this is as intoxicating and intimate a song as four people can sing with each other. There is yet one more use of the Mannheim loud-soft thing. The music leaves us longing for more, but the archbishop’s clock is running and there is still another movement. “Hosanna” returns on schedule and that seems to be that. But Mozart takes pity on us. The family return for a foreshortened reprise of “Benedictus” and the chorus finish with a final “Hosanna“. I’m sure the movement has an overall structure: something like A-B-A’-C-B’-“Hosanna”-A-“Hosanna”—but who cares? We just let it wash over us. We’ll get back to stuff in the next movement.
AGNUS DEI
“Agnus Dei” is an ingenuous song for soprano, which would have been Ceccarelli’s centerpiece. It is such a tender and comforting lullaby, we are certain that no matter how bad things have been, they will turn out all right. Three repetitions of “Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi” to the opening song tune alternate with two repetitions of “Miserere nobis” with different material.
Several commentators are of the opinion that that this movement is “operatic” because Mozart later borrowed the first few notes of “Agnus Dei” to begin the countess’s aria “Dove sono” in “The Marriage of Figaro”. The purpose of an opera aria, beyond showcasing the vocal talents of the singer, is to allow the character to convey some strong, usually excruciating, emotion such as love, longing, pain, anguish, suspicion, jealousy, hate, rage, or triumph. In “Dove sono”, the countess wonders to herself where all the good times have gone with her low-life, two-timing husband and further why she continues to love him. She has devised a plot involving multiple disguises to teach the count a lesson. The music starts sweetly enough, but as the words become more conflicted, the sound becomes more agitated. You don’t have to know what she is saying to know that something dramatic is going on. The volume builds and the aria culminates in the kind of bombastic shrieking that invites applause and cheering by opera lovers.
Act III, Scene 8
Dove sono i bei momenti
Di dolcezza e di piacer?
Dove andaro i giuramenti
Di quel labbro menzogner?
Perchè mai, se in pianti e in pene
Per me tutto si cangiò,
La memoria di quel bene
Dal mio sen non trapassò?
Ah! se almen la mia costanza,
Nel languire amando ognor,
Mi portasse una speranza
Di cangiar l’ingrato cor!
Where are the lovely moments
Of sweetness and pleasure?
Where have the promises gone
That came from those lying lips?
Why, if all is changed for me
Into tears and pain,
Has the memory of that goodness
Not vanished from my breast?
Ah! if only, at least, my faithfulness,
Which still loves amidst its suffering,
Could bring me the hope
Of changing that ungrateful heart!
Borrowing a tune for an opera does not make the original “operatic”. The singer in “Agnus Dei” has no ax to grind. She (or he) is simply delivering the reassuring words that tell us our sins can be forgiven. The gentle music supports the words and does not change its sound. As in “K275″, Mozart does not exploit Ceccarelli’s vocal prowess (beyond his lovely tone, no doubt), making no demands involving high notes, vocal jumps, or melismas. Indeed, in the Philips set, this solo is sung by an unnamed choirboy, who acquits himself well, though he probably would not win the role of the countess.
DONA NOBIS PACEM
The last “Agnus Dei” leads directly into “Dona nobis pacem”, which, as in “K220″, recycles parts of the Kyrie. Mozart uses the music of the middle “rhapsody” sequence of the Kyrie. It starts the same way, with Phrase 1 and Phrase 2 for soprano, Phrase 3 for tenor, and Phrase 4 for soprano. However, here, Phrase 5, Phrase 6, and Phrase 7 are taken up by the entire solo quartet. The chorus enter for a rhapsody of their own built from melodic and rhythmic fragments of Phrase 1. The family break in with one more repetition of Phrase 1 and the chorus finish triumphantly amid a fanfare of timpani and tootling trumpets.
–11/02/2016