Aural Hedonism Cloaked In Spirituality
The Missa Solemnis meditation was a complete success. At precisely 4am, I started the dubbed CD and adjusted the volume (the rules I had set did not allow me to listen to a single note until the experience began, so I had no idea what level was appropriate, I erred on the side of “too soft” so the neighbors would not call the police…). The door to my deck was already open. I turned out the last light in my living room and retired to the sofa.
I had done several dry runs to acclimate to the background sounds. There was the hard drive whirr from the DVD, the clicks of a clock, occasional creaks from the ceiling, passing cars, and the unavoidable cat sounds. Last night, the cicadas and frogs outside were silent.
Mental preparations were also made. These included getting a basic understanding of Beethoven’s mindset at the time the Missa Solemnis was composed and of the circumstances of the Toscanini performance. I’ve posted the liner notes for anyone interested in the latter. Of particular interest is the “wrong note.”
Zinka Milanov, the soprano in both versions, blurts out a highly audible wrong note 23 bars before the end of the Credo in this recording, but she is otherwise excellent, as are her colleagues
There is, of course, only one “right note” in a score, but jazz musicians quickly learn that there are very few notes that sound “wrong.” Miss the note by a half-step either way and it sounds horrible – but a little dissonance is the spice of music and it will only sound wrong if you flinch. Hold that note confidently, it will add some tension, then slide into the right note with maximum dramatic effect. The same is true of the “devil’s interval”, which is way wrong and sounds it – a graceful half-step slide either way will get you out of hell. Any note in the scale of the key played is no more than a whole step from a note that sounds right and notes of the chord played will always sound correct even if they are not the one the composer wrote.
I suspect that “Zinka’s Clinkah” would go unnoticed to anyone who is not familiar with the score. I am not familiar with the score or the composition. That was the entire point of this exercise. To get a score just to be able to say “there it is!” would destroy the essence of the meditation. That’s something I can do anytime now.
Here is something that will not go unnoticed:
Toscanini also told Boult: "It is so wonderful. I close my eyes when I conduct it - I close my eyes and then the organ comes in at the end and it is a light from heaven."
A "light from heaven" is never imperceptible, as a simple missed note might be.
Getting back to Beethoven’s state of mind. Beethoven was not a devout religious man and rarely attended mass. This does not mean it was impossible for him to have an intense spiritual nature – listen to any symphony of his and you know the matters that concerned his mind were not 100% congruent with those of, say, Conway Twitty. He diligently researched sacred music, especially Palestrina, starting in 1818 in preparation for the Missa. He took an ontogeny recapitulating phylogeny approach, composing the movements in sequential order, beginning with the Kyrie in 1819 and finishing the Agnus Dei in 1822. The original intent was to debut the Missa at the installation of his patron Archduke Rudolph as a cardinal, which occurred March 9, 1820. Obviously, to the future joy of creative procrastinators universal, he missed the deadline. Nobody pressured him on this account, perhaps they realized he was some kinda prototypical Jake and Elwood on a Mission From God.
Before all this, Beethoven was arguably “washed up.” As his hearing and health failed, beginning in 1809, his output dropped. The heartbreak of the Immortal Beloved affair took its toll around 1815 and was quickly followed by the custody battle for his nephew, Karl, and the frustration that accompanied its success. Beethoven was pretty stressed out by all this (or, as they said at the time, “mad”) and the Missa could be viewed as a quest for redemption.
With all that in mind, the task of sitting through an unfamiliar composition seemed relatively easy to me and it was. My own demons, the ones that run threads of recent events through my mental multiplex, were reasonably quiet and obedient. The clicking of the clock only interfered during piano passages and a mental “disregard” flag totally neutralized it. No cicadas. No frogs. A sforzando where the orchestra fades but the flute hold a single note for transition, ah yes, a Beethoven trademark, oh no, no, no, 'Bene, here, pene,' and don’t analyze…listen!
I think it was in the Gloria I heard the tenors launch a (probably) 16th-note theme and I think “It might be….it could be….yes…it is! – a fugue!” Beethoven had heard Bach, and like any reasonable person was completely intimidated by the Old Man’s mastery of counterpoint. The shock and awe he felt is proof, in my mind, that Beethoven was not “mad.” Still, like the one in the 3rd movement of the 5th, this one was a decent fugue, nothing like Die Kunst, of course, but still a righteous fugue – no, no, NO – don’t be a music critic, listen to the music, immerse yourself in it.
Somewhere in the Credo, I drifted to the edges of dreamland. A red-costumed bellhop, with the pillbox hat and all, presented me with a tray and said “please return this to Sylvie.” I pulled back from the edge and listened some more. At some point during the Sanctus, I fell asleep.
The Missa probably ended around 5:20am, about 10 minutes before the birds begin their morning chorus. By 6:10am, I awoke and they were in full chorus. I restarted the CD and listened again. This time I could hear the 1939 BBC audience sounds…an occasional cough and programs rustling between movements. I thought a bit about how war would break out 4 months later and listened some more. I fell asleep again. I awoke to hear the entire Sanctus and Agnus Dei, and enthusiastic applause at the end.
The one thought I made a mental note to include here, even though I tried to exclude thought, was a similarity of the vocal quartet in the Missa to that near the end of the 4th movement of the 9th. Those brief moments are the apogee of music to me. In the 9th, they shine briefly and the symphony soon comes pounding to an end. In the Missa, the quartet provides extended ecstasy, rich with harmonic flavors. The thought I had was that it is musical perigourdine: truffles, foie gras, madiera, and demi-glace in a rich and soothing sauce. “Discovering” the Missa at this point of my life is like finding a diamond in the backyard.
11:22:34 AM 
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