Download Page 1 of 3 The Missa solemnis occupies a unique place in

The Missa solemnis occupies a unique place in Beethoven’s œuvre and in music history. The work defies
categorization: it is both liturgical and a concert piece, it has the formal conventions of both
instrumental and vocal genres, and it offers simultaneously an objective communal experience and a
subjective personal one.
Beethoven began work on the Missa solemnis in the spring of 1819, apparently intending it for the
installation of Rudolph, Archduke of Austria as Archbishop of Olmütz in Moravia. Rudolph was
Beethoven’s pupil in piano and composition, one of the composer’s most consistently reliable patrons,
and the dedicatee of several important compositions. At the time Beethoven had been working on ideas
for the Ninth Symphony and the Diabelli Variations, but dropped both projects until 1822 when he had
completed most of the work on the mass, having missed Rudolph’s installation in the meantime.
From the very beginning, the Missa solemnis departs from the tradition Haydn established in his late
masses, all of which organize the Kyrie much like the first movement of a symphony. That is, Haydn’s
late Kyries typically feature slow introductions followed by faster main sections. Beethoven’s Kyrie is
more reverent than symphonic: he marked it “with devotion,” used moderate tempos throughout, and
created only a gentle change of character from the longer notes of the ‘Kyrie’ to the flowing movement
of the ‘Christe.’ Sustained harmonies in the choir and orchestra conjure the sound of an organ, and
falling intervals on the words “Kyrie” and “Christe” have a supplicant quality.
Beethoven did follow tradition in his division of the longer Gloria and Credo texts into smaller sections
and even in his choices of tempo and style for those sections. However, he gave greater attention than
did his predecessors to the individual character of each text phrase. “Gloria in excelsis,” for example, is
grand and expansive, while “et in terra pax hominibus” is quiet and subdued. Also compare the
exuberant “laudamus te,” which adopts the rising scale from the opening of the Gloria, with
“benedicimus te” (calmer and sustained, with homophonic or hymnlike texture), “adoramus te”
(hushed, reverent, homophonic), and “glorificamus te” (exuberant again, with staggered choral entries).
Sustained organ-like orchestral harmonies support the subdued lyricism of the ‘Gratias’ section, and
regal fanfares accompany the names of God at “domine Deus.” This section repeats the opening rising
theme of the Gloria but starts a half-step higher, changing key and mood several times before arriving at
the slow, lyrical ‘Qui tollis.’ This harmonic instability and thematic variety are hallmarks of development
sections in sonata form. Symphonic references such as this highlight the hybrid nature of the Missa
solemnis: part instrumental and part vocal genre, part liturgical and part concert music.
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Another important dichotomy is that between the soloists, who frequently introduce the most
subjective and personal texts, and the chorus, which plays a more objective, almost institutional role.
For example, the soloists introduce the intimate and expressive ‘Qui tollis,’ then alternate with the more
static texture of the chorus in an image of responsorial liturgy. Beethoven set the word “peccata” (sins)
with dissonant sonorities and “qui sedes ad dexteram patris” with royal fanfares, but “miserere nobis” is
hushed and gentle in the choir with pleading interjections from the soloists, again summoning the image
of liturgical celebrant and choir.
The ‘Quoniam’ section begins with another royal fanfare, stacking up through the choral voice parts and
continuing to rise for “solus altissimus.” After the chorus introduces the fugue, the soloists take it up
while the choral basses then tenors intone “cum sancto Spiritu” in longer, sustained notes. This evokes
early sacred polyphony that built a complex vocal texture over an elongated and sustained chant
melody. This approach continues through the end of the fugue, but as the choral women join the men
the choir morphs into a homophonic organ sound underneath the florid texture of the soloists,
eventually culminating in a unison statement of the fugue theme. Listen for echoes of the Ninth
Symphony’s choral finale as the “amen” plays out, and for the rising theme from the opening of the
Gloria to return at the end of the movement.
The opening of the Credo recalls the falling intervals of the Kyrie. At first the voice parts imitate one
another, but the whole choir comes together to paint “in unum Deum.” Likewise, both register and
dynamics drop drastically for “et invisibilium,” and a fanfare displays Christ’s identity at “Deum de Deo.”
Beethoven set “consubstantialem patri” in imitative fashion (the voices all sing the same melody but the
parts enter at different times) so the entire choral texture is made up of one substance. Dramatic falling
intervals and scales portray Christ’s descent from heaven.
In keeping with their subjective role, the soloists introduce the slower ‘Et incarnatus’ section, and the
repeated notes of the choral response again give a liturgical impression. Beethoven painted the text
expressively, setting the word “crucifixus” with minor and dissonant harmonies, giving the government
role of Pilate to the choir and the suffering Christ to the soloists, and letting the texture and volume die
away at “et sepultus est.”
Upholding tradition, Beethoven set “et resurrexit” with a return to a fast tempo and major key, and “et
ascendit” with ascending scales and staggered choral entries from bass up through soprano. The text
painting continues with the stern statement at “judicare,” the lively “vivos,” and the fading “mortuos.”
“Credo in Spiritum Sanctum” recapitulates the material from the beginning of the movement, so that
the Spirit’s music does literally proceed from that of the Father and Son. Critics have considered the
closing fugue of the Credo one of a trio of especially spiritual closing fugues, along with the ones from
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the “Hammerklavier” Sonata (1818) and the String Quartet Op. 130 (1825). Listeners have often
associated these fugues with the image of a person’s soul leaving the body at the end of life.
The reverent tone continues into the Sanctus, which, like the Kyrie, Beethoven marked “with devotion.”
Here one can imagine the soloists as the heavenly hosts singing an ethereal “Holy, holy, holy,” and the
chorus as the plebeian earthly masses. The sounds of sacred music return with the Benedictus, as the
orchestra again imitates organ sonorities. The solo violin recalls the ‘cello solo in the ‘Qui tollis’ of
Haydn’s Missa in tempore belli (“Paukenmesse,” 1796), which musicologist Charles Rosen dismissed as
having the sweetness and “emotional religiosity of eighteenth-century painting,” and also foreshadows
the violin solo in the Sanctus of Faure’s Requiem. In this context and in that of the entire Missa solemnis,
Beethoven’s solo violin may represent the more intimate and personal aspects of the larger work rather
than religious sentimentality. The violin’s long descent just before the choral basses enter presents an
image of the incarnation, arguably the most subjective, personal event of all.
In the Agnus Dei, falling intervals on “miserere” recall the supplications of the Kyrie. In the ‘Dona nobis
pacem’ section (inscribed “prayer for inner and outer peace”), these supplications evolve into a fugue
theme that crosses over itself much like the chorus “And With His Stripes” from Handel’s Messiah or the
Kyrie from Mozart’s Requiem. Tradition interprets this kind of zig-zagging motive as representing the
cross, but Beethoven gave it a different color by using it in a major-mode prayer for peace.
Beethoven’s subtitle at the beginning of the score reads “From the heart—may it return to the heart!”
Together with the closing prayer for both inner and outer peace, the subtitle hints at the paradox the
whole work reveals: this grand and monumental composition is also deeply and pervasively personal.
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