LEOPOLD MASS IN C MAJOR
INTRODUCTION
This excellent mass was for many years thought to be by Wolfgang and bore the number “K115”. It is now certain to be by Leopold: one set of genuine parts is undated, the other is dated “1764”. It is safe to say that this is the immediate stepping-stone for Wolfgang’s masses, as its structure and even some of its music serves as a model for Wolfgang’s first mass, “K139”, dating from 1768. In addition, there are some wonderful touches that are pure Leopold, a fine composer in his own right, but who quit the business to promote his son full time once he realized just how good he was.
It was almost certainly given its first performance at the Benedictine archabbey Church of St. Peter in Salzburg, whose own musical forces of ten instrumentalists were modest, but would have been supplemented by court musicians. Violas would not have been allowed in the cathedral. And finally, the extensive solo vocal parts suggest professional singers. They could have been performed by castrati, but women singers do seem to have been allowed at St. Peter’s.
The mass is scored for 2 trumpets, 2 horns, timpani, obbligato flute, strings (with violas), and organ continuo.
KYRIE
The slow, Type II intonation of “Kyrie eleison” by the chorus sets a solemn, reverent tone. It soon becomes apparent that this is not the only tone, as the orchestra, followed by the chorus, break into a merry, rollicking tune for the words (nominally) “Christe eleison”, which is all Type I. I say “nominally” because after two “Christes”, the chorus revert to one “Kyrie”, then an extended iteration of “Christe”, an even longer one of “Kyrie”, and finally a brief one of “Christe”. This tune is so good, it is easy to see why it was thought to be Wolfgang’s. The soprano has a go at it (“Christes” and “Kyries”), followed by the alto (also “Christes” and “Kyries”), with just a touch of melisma. The words “Kyrie eleison” almost do not return, which would be a breach of at least etiquette, if not liturgy, but they do, buried again after one “Christe” in the return of the merry tune by the chorus, followed again by a run of “Christe”, and this time ending with an extended statement of “Kyrie” to finish the movement. I have found no earlier recorded example of this blurring of the distinction of clear “Kyrie”-“Christe”-“Kyrie” sections in a recorded cantata mass.
GLORIA
GLORIA IN EXCELSIS
The Gloria begins as a Type I chorus on “Gloria in excelsis”, a kind of majestic, triumphant “march” in triple time. This is interrupted briefly by duet lines from the soprano and alto and then the tenor and bass, followed again by the chorus to finish the section.
LAUDAMUS TE
“Laudamus te” is a graceful and flowing folklike song for soprano like the one I first mentioned in Heinichen’s “Mass No. 12” of 1729. As noted in “Cantata Mass Trends”, “New Salzburg”, Joseph Haydn’s “Missa Cellensis” of 1766 has for the same text a similarly sweet and ingenuous song, but Leopold’s mass must predate it. A brief cadenza at the end is perfectly in keeping with the accessible mood.
GRATIAS AGIMUS
The next part of the Gloria, from “Gratias agimus” through the last “miserere nobis” of “Qui tollis” is through-composed without a break, but nonetheless has three distinct sections allowing both chorus and soloists to show their stuff. “Gratias” through “gloriam tuam” is set for chorus in big block Type I chords.
DOMINE DEUS
For the second section of this extended text, the music turns to Type II beginning with “Domine Deus” and ending with an awkward intermediate cadence on “Filius Patris” quickly swept under the rug.
QUI TOLLIS
The third section, from “Qui tollis peccata mundi” through the last “Miserere nobis”, proceeds without pause. It is in three identical unhurried parts, each of which consists of a declamatory line by the chorus followed by an extended passage by one of the soloists followed by a brief duet line for soprano and alto followed by a brief duet line for tenor and bass followed by a choral line. The music is a tender and pious entreaty for forgiveness of sin. The last choral ”Miserere” is extended, over a dissonant, shifting tonal center, finally resolving quietly and tenderly.
QUONIAM
The next section, from “Quoniam tu solus sanctus” through “Jesu Christe” is set off by itself as an alto folk song. The music is so charming and sweet that even a brief cadenza near the end does not break the mood of simplicity.
CUM SANCTO SPIRITU
Big block chords in the chorus announce the bright and festive Type II chorus on “Cum sancto spiritu” to end the Gloria.
CREDO
CREDO IN UNUM DEUM
A sprightly Type I chorus begins with “Credo in unum Deum” through the words “Visibilium omnium”. The deeply rooted key center of C major is broken only once by the dramatic and awkward pause on A flat near the end of the section, almost identical to the chord progression described at “Filius Patris” in “Domine Deus” above. The dotted rhythm, particularly in the timpani, gives the music a delightful “galloping” quality.
ET IN UNUM DOMINUM
Things begin to go downhill in the next section. The music begins agreeably enough with an orchestral introduction. The words from “Et in unum dominum” through “Descendit de caelis”, are set for tenor solo. The tune initially supports the words well enough to be called “churchy”, but then the bad melismas start in and it becomes clear that this is really a heroic aria that belongs in a Hasse opera along with elephants and soldiers (“Come, my noble troops, let us go forward and vanquish the enemy!”). Maybe I just don’t like tenor melismas, but I find the sound of the whole thing pompous and uninspired.
ET INCARNATUS EST
Leopold is back on track here. The words from “Et incarnatus est” through “Et homo factus est” are beautifully set. The chorus sings softly and reverently over a shifting tonal center. Several daring and dramatic chords, borrowed from the end of the ““Qui tollis” section of the Gloria, give the music an otherworldly feel and underscore the mystery of God becoming human described in the text.
CRUCIFIXUS
The words from “Crucifixus” through “Et sepultus est” are set quietly and gravely for the trio of soprano, alto, and bass in the minor mode, with timpani and muted trumpets, accompaniment borrowed from mid-century Viennese funeral music. I could find no earlier use of this instrumentation in a recorded mass—not Hasse, Stamitz, Zelenka, Heinichen, Bach, or Biber. But then I found a recording of Eberlin’s “Mass No. 34”. The year is not mentioned, but it has to be before 1762, which is when he died. Here is his “Crucifixus”. I think Leopold lifted more than the trumpets.
ET RESURREXIT
The tenor, waiting in the wings, then bursts forth with the words “Et resurrexit tertia die” followed by the approval of the Type I chorus. The music is through-composed and up-tempo from this point through the line “In remissionem peccatorum”, but with a number of twists and turns along the way. The brisk pace of the music is broken suddenly after the words “judicare vivos” for a very slow and reverent treatment of “Et mortuos”, as is traditional.
The pace resumes with a brief Type II chorus on “Cujus regni non erit finis”, including the emphatic repetition of “non” nine times in a row, giving the effect of playfully wagging a finger at those who might be skeptical of everlasting life. Because this will be such a strong influence on Wolfgang, I wish I could pretend that the device was invented by Leopold. It is not found in those Heinichen manuscripts which might have been brought to Salzburg by my imagined Brother Singe (see “Cantata Mass Trends”, “Dresden”), but if he also had some Zelenka with him, repetitions are found in ”ZWV 17” and “ZWV 18” about eight times in each and in “ZWV 19” many times, but not in “ZWV 21” (“ZWV 20” has no Credo movement at all). His earlier masses “ZWV 8”, “ZWV 11”, “ZWV 13”, and “ZWV 16” do not have repetitions (“ZWV 12” and “ZWV 14” have no Credo). Hasse’s “D minor” does not contain repetitions. And there are none in Eberlin’s “Mass No. 34” noted above. But that pesky Joseph Haydn just two years after Leopold’s mass has three repetitions in his “Missa Cellensis”. Coincidence? You decide.
ET IN SPIRITUM SANCTUM
More warmed-over operatic padding follows. A graceless and amateurish solo trumpet flourish introduces a bass aria on “Et in spiritum sanctum” and continues as an obbligato accompaniment. The music does not support the words; the singer could be bleating about anything (“The peasants are restless; I fear an uprising”).
ET UNAM SANCTAM CATHOLICAM
Without pause, a solo violin flourish does the same things with a soprano aria at “Et unam sanctam catholicam”. The vocal writing is similarly uninspired (“Well, then, you must crush them with your mighty strength”). The section ends softly.
ET EXSPECTO
The chorus return brightly for the big finale. The line “Et exspecto” sounds strikingly (suspiciously?) like Handel’s setting of “King of Kings” in the “Hallelujah!” chorus of “Messiah”. Again, the pace of the music slows suddenly to a crawl for the setting of “Mortuorum”.
ET VITAM VENTURI SAECULI
The Type II chorus on “Et vitam venturi saeculi” is big and round and satisfying and draws the Credo to a bright and festive close.
SANCTUS
“Sanctus” is in three short sections. The first is antiphonal—more like an echo—first setting the sopranos against the rest of the chorus, then the sopranos and altos against the tenors and basses. The tune is a shortened version of the “Gratias agimus” section of the Gloria. A lighthearted melody, taken by the sopranos and altos, highlights the second section at “Pleni sunt caeli”, which leads immediately into the third, a bright and upbeat “Hosanna in excelsis”.
BENEDICTUS
“Benedictus qui venit” is another unaffected song, this time a duet for soprano and flute—a conversation with a bluebird, or better yet, a heavenly dove. The gentle music is well suited for the words of the mass and requires several high As from the singer. After a long flute introduction, the soprano sings with extensive flute accompaniment. The setting demonstrates such respect for the equality of the voices that there are three cadenzas—two (cadenza 1, cadenza 2) for the soprano and one (cadenza 3) for the flute. Unfortunately, the obligatory return of “Hosanna”, which blended so beautifully with “Sanctus”, is here an odd and even jarring afterthought (shades of the “Mystery Mass”).
AGNUS DEI
“Agnus Dei” is set for soloists and chorus. Gentle and swaying, it sounds more than anything like a lullaby to send us off to sleep, secure in the knowledge of God’s love and mercy, sung primarily by the solo soprano and alto. The alto takes the tune first, followed by bits of duet between soprano and tenor and alto and tenor. Then the soprano picks it up, followed by similar duet material. The chorus take the final repetition, with a bridge to the next section.
For what it’s worth, there are fourteen repetitions of “Miserere nobis” by the soloists, alone and in combination:
“Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi”, alto; “Miserere nobis”, alto x 3; soprano/tenor x 1; soprano/alto x 1; soprano/tenor x 1; alto/tenor x 2.
“Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi”, soprano; “Miserere nobis”, soprano x 3; alto/tenor x 3.
DONA NOBIS PACEM
The last line of the Agnus Dei, as is usual in cantata masses, is set off as its own section, here for soloists and chorus in a light, life-affirming triple time. There are three brief repetitions of the primary theme by soloists, with contrasting material by various duets and the chorus before the chorus have the final say.
Again, for what it’s worth, there are fourteen repetitions of “Dona nobis pacem” by the soloists:
Alto x 2; soprano/alto x 1; tenor/bass x 1; chorus
Tenor x 2; tenor/bass x 2; chorus
Soprano/alto x 1; tenor/bass x 1
Alto (minor) x 2; soprano/alto x 2; chorus
Coincidence? Maybe, but then why does Leopold break the symmetry by adding two repetitions after the second choral part instead of going right into the last alto solo if not to make it come out even?
Mmmm, well, in 1731, Pope Clement XII fixed the number of the Stations of the Cross, which had varied between six and thirty, at fourteen and gave all churches the right to display them as a series of small paintings or sculptural bas-reliefs inside churches instead as multiple large kiosks outside leading to churches, as had been done for centuries. The mass could have been written to commemorate the installation of such a display. I have learned from Dr. Peter Keller, Director of the Salzburg cathedral museum, that the Stations there were painted by Ludwig Glötzle and date from the 1890s.
We have already seen several reasons why the first performance at the cathedral is unlikely anyway. So if Leopold is here making reference to the Stations, it could be that his mass was commissioned to celebrate the interior installation at St. Peter. Nobody from St. Peter has answered my emails about this in four years.
Well, Leopold’s daughter Nannerl would have been fourteen in 1765…. All right, coincidence!
–04/05/2013
