Hob. 25a |
Genre |
Key |
Voice |
Title |
Instruments |
Libretto |
25a:1 |
Italian Duet |
F |
Soprano & Tenor |
Guarda qui, che lo vedra |
Fortepiano |
Carlo Francesco Badini |
25a:2 |
G |
Saper vorrei se m'ami |
||||
Hob. |
Genre |
Key |
Name |
Instruments/Voices |
||
22:09 |
Catholic Mass |
C |
Missa in Tempore Belli (Mass in Time of War) |
S-A-T-B, Chorus, Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings |
In 1796 Samuel [Peploe] and Kitty [née Cornewall] made a visit through Germany to Vienna, at that time one of the great musical centers of Europe, and her younger brother George was at this time also doing a grand tour with his violoncello.
[snip]
In Vienna Kitty was feted by the musical elite and in November 1796 Joseph Haydn began to make a series of MS copies of his vocal music for her. He added for her the date 1796 to his autograph manuscript of the duet Guarda Qui che lo vedrai, and according to Kitty's own testimony she received that piece in December and the duet Saper vorrei se m'ami in November. Kitty later acquired further London and post London works from Haydn and many of them are now in the Burgenlandisches Landesmuseum at Eisenstadt.
When Haydn came to London in 1799 [recte: 1794(?)] he was entertained by the Peploe Birches at their London House and Mrs. [Kitty] Peploe of 22 Curzon Street [Mayfair] was one of the subscribers to 'The Creation' for its Premiere at The Convent [sic] Garden in 1800. Presumably these precious autograph works were kept at Garnstone during Kitty's life time but it is unfortunate that the inventory made at Samuel Peploe's death in 1845 provides insufficient details to be completely sure.
The New Peploe (Family History) chapter 4
As we know by now, when Haydn left London in 1795, he didn't really leave his associations behind, some of them were maintained until his death. We have only touched the tip of the iceberg in terms of his social circle from nearly four years in the City, and even though we don't know the circumstances beyond what I found here, Mrs. Kitty Peploe must have made some sort of impression upon him, although Landon, as well as every other writer I have checked, doesn't even tell us her first name! So you saw it here first. But by any account, Mrs. Peploe was a very talented amateur singer who was much in demand at social occasions, such as the salons of Mrs. Hunter and others, or at her own salons, which is very likely how Haydn came to meet her, possibly through Becky Schroeter.
What sorts of works are the Italian Duets? They are fine examples of idealized, pastoral love ballads with keyboard accompaniment which were very popular at the time. Perfect for salons, or even a stage recital as part of a larger programme, they would add a touch of class to the canzonets and Scottish ballads which were the usual fare. Nisa and Tirsi (soprano and tenor, respectively) are the characters in both works. Saper vorrei se m'ami (I should like to know if you love me) invokes nature: The plants know, and the mountains and the breezes, the birds, and the springs, and only you do not know what my soul is like. Guarda qui contains an equal dose of melodrama: I see a young man… who in me is vibrant now with flames, now darts, who now smiles, now weeps, now throbs, now pleases, now gives me pain. Could love be far behind? The poems are by Carlo Francesco Badini (born early 1700's – died before 1810), who was known to Haydn while in Eszterháza, where the libretto to the 1782 Orlando paladino by Nunziano Porta was based on the libretto Le pazzie d'Orlando written by Badini in 1771. But Haydn also met the man himself in London, where, as the poet-in-residence at the King's Theater, he wrote the libretto for Orfeo ed Eurydice. It was presumably at this same time that Badini gave Haydn these two poems, which he didn't get around to setting until several years later. Beyond this, I'm guessing from the nature of the birth and death dates I listed, you already know I'm not going to be able to tell you much more about Badini!
As we saw earlier with Arianna a Naxos, Haydn has a real flair for interposing the keyboard part into the lyric, and he does so again here. In addition, he gives a wonderful canonic setting to Saper vorrei…, which encompasses nearly all of the Allegro second half. From a musical sophistication point of view, this is clearly the one for connoisseurs, but Guarda qui… is also a very fine piece in its own right, and the pair very much belong together. The Guarda qui… manuscript which Elssler made for Kitty Peploe still survives in the British Museum, while other Elssler manuscripts of the pair are in the Burgenländisches Landesmuseum in Eisenstadt.
Hob. 25a:1 Duet in F for Soprano, Tenor & Fortepiano |
Hob. 25a:2 Duet in G for Soprano, Tenor & Fortepiano |
Guarda qui, che lo vedra |
Saper vorrei se m'ami |
Look here who will see him, [Who will feel that he feels.] In these eyes what do you see? [What do you feel in this breast?]
I see a young man [I feel a proud young man] who in me is vibrant now with flames now darts who now smiles now weeps now throbs, now pleases now gives me pain.
What do you see? [What do you feel?] I see a ... ... gives me pain; to whom never, never will be?
It is Cupid's arrow which comes from the eyes to my heart and for you, my dear friend, plays tricks in my breast.
[N.B. - Words in square brackets are the soprano's part whenever it differs from the tenor's.] [Lyrics courtesy of lieder.net] |
I should like to know if you love me, if there is another than I that you long for, if you live only for me, if you know that I live in you.
What would you like to know? [What would I like to know?] O how thankless you are! [Ungrateful, O God, why?]
The plants know, and the mountains, the breezes, the birds, and the springs, and only you do not know what my soul is like.
I know it, but I want to feel it, to hear it repeated.
If together we repeat it what harmony that would make. You begin, who in canon I want to follow.
I love you more than these eyes, much more than life you will always be for my good, always, forever I want to adore you. |
The autumn of 1796, after the Eisenstadt festivities were over, provided the time for the completion of one of Haydn's finest masses, inscribed by Haydn on the manuscript Missa in Tempore Belli (Mass in Time of War). And war was indeed the order of the day, as it would be for the remainder of Haydn's lifetime.
We saw earlier this year how Napoleon had come to be in charge of the French Army in Italy. Right from the beginning, in March 1796, the French forces fought with renewed energy and inexorably made their way across the northern Italian peninsula, getting ever closer to the Austrian homeland. As we can see from this map, May brought the fall of the major town of Lodi, and by June, the primary city of the region, Mantua, was solidly under siege, while the Austrian army had scarpered off through the Alps to the Tirol.
Meanwhile, the bulk of the French Republican Army was busily invading Germany by crossing the Rhine. The Austrians were not showing at their best in this campaign, and by late August and September, while the Esterházy's were enjoying Eisenstadt, the French were all but knocking at the door in Munich. On 4 September, Napoleon's Italian Army overran the Austrian forces at Rovereto, Italy, on the road directly into the Austrian Tirol.
I don't intend, here, to reenact the entire Napoleonic Wars, no worries there. But insofar as they directly affected Haydn, his life and music, it is imperative to at least know the current events. Also, it is well to recall this about Haydn: he was a true believer in his religion and its power in his life. Beyond this, another, less obvious fruit of the London Trips, is the change they wrought on Haydn himself. Earlier times, he may well have had a vague idea of the influence his music had on the world of Western Europe, but it can't have been much of a realistic view, beyond the clear implication stemming from the large amounts of money these foreigners were willing to pay for his art. But in London, he saw firsthand how his work had implications far beyond the confines of Eisenstadt or even Vienna. All of Europe was at his feet, and he could (and did) accept the burden of letting his art speak to and for the entire continent.
It had been a long time since war had been on Vienna's doorstep. Way back in the Seven Years' War (1756 – 63) much of the fighting had been just a stone's throw away, but the subsequent wars against the Turks (1788-91) were a long way off in Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia and Bulgaria. Even the Wars of the French Revolution, in which Austria was heavily involved, had so far taken place mainly in Western Europe, so everything was kept at a safe remove. Not so now!
We have already seen how Vienna had begun to change since Haydn's return from London, and how the early progress of the war had started a patriotic fervor in Vienna which led to huge concerts being performed with passion-stirring cantatas and oratorios being performed, as well as Haydn's new symphonies, in particular #94. The purpose of these was to raise money to support the army. If I actually was recounting the war blow-by-blow, you would probably be, as I was, amazed at the numbers of new armies being raised to throw at the French on all fronts. It can't be denied; there was most likely a hint of desperation in the air by September when news of Rovereto and other losses reached the city.
Haydn must have begun this Mass immediately upon the heels of the performance of the Heiligmesse. One can surmise this by the simple fact that he now had a good idea of the quality of the singers and players who would be available to him, and thus the solo parts are far more difficult. While he could not know who would be available a year later for the Eisenstadt performance, he at least knew the Prince was willing and able to get good quality performers, and apparently that was enough to encourage him to let loose.
Even though this would also serve as the Name Day Mass for 1797, there is no way it falls in with the argument of 'Six Name Day Masses…'. This was composed for Vienna, for his old friends the Piarists, who had invited him, in 1771, to give a performance of his Stabat Mater in front of the nobility and gentry of Vienna in the perfect setting provided by their beautiful Baroque-style church. Now, twenty-five years later, he was coming back with one of his finest Masses to the same venue. The Piarists were a Catholic order of (primarily) teachers, founded by St. Joseph Calasanz. When he was canonized in 1767, the young Mozart (12 years old) was visiting Vienna and it is believed he wrote his Offertory Motet, Veni Sancte Spiritus (K 47), for the occasion. Later on, he was a regular visitor and diner at the monastery, and had his son, Karl Joseph, attend the Piarist School.
So when a high-ranking bureaucrat in the Imperial War Department named Hofmann approached Haydn to write a Mass for the ordination of his son, Joseph, as a Piarist priest at Christmas of 1796, there was probably no hesitation on Haydn's part to accept the commission. The celebration would take place on 26 December at the Church of Maria Treu. 26 December was an auspicious date for the celebration also because it is the Feast Day of St. Stephen, patron saint of the country of Austria. Demaree and Moses1 suggest, plausibly, that the martial aspect of the Mass was more than just a nod to Napoleon, waiting to pounce upon them, but also a tribute to Hofmann Senior's role as an Imperial Army manager.
There is a lot to be said about the increased virtuosity in the instruments and voices. From the autograph manuscript, it appears at first as though there is just the skeletal core of an orchestra which the Prince kept in Eisenstadt. However, there are several additional parts added, including a Flute, 2 Clarinets, and 2 Horns in C basso, which double the trumpets and provide beautiful texture to their parts. It is the clarinet parts which are of special interest though. They are by far the most virtuosic clarinet parts Haydn has written to date. What might have compelled him to believe there were clarinetists in Vienna who were capable of playing them?
As of October 1780 Anton [Stadler] was employed by the Piaristen religious order of Maria Treu as a 'manorial musician'.2
If you are a Mozartian as well as a Haydnist, you are already well aware of Anton and Johann Stadler, quite possibly the finest clarinetists of the 18th century. Anton, in particular, was a very close friend of Mozart, and the lion's share of the extremely fine clarinet and basset horn music which Mozart produced during his Vienna decade, including his Clarinet (originally Basset Horn) Concerto and Clarinet Quintet and the Trio for Keyboard, Viola & Clarinet (K 498) were composed specifically for him. He also played the clarinet part in Mozart's Quintet for Keyboard & Winds (K 452) at its première as well as the Gran partita (K370a/361). It is virtually impossible, given the convergence of dates and interests, to believe Haydn was not also very familiar with the brothers and their abilities. While Haydn was in London on his first tour, Stadler was in Vienna with Mozart until early October, 1791. Then he left for Prague with the newly completed Clarinet Concerto (K 622) in hand and spent the next four years on tour. Sometime after mid-September, 1795, however, he returned to Vienna, where he and Johann took up posts as Royal Imperial Court Musicians. And were reacquainted with Haydn. His link with the Piarist church, mentioned above, was never broken. It was always known that the Stadler's played in The Creation, but the documentation for their participation in the Missa in Tempore Belli, which solves some mysteries about the quality of the clarinet parts, is relative news.
Hob 22:09 – Catholic Mass in C Major |
||||||
Part |
Section |
Solo voices |
Tempo |
Key |
Meter |
|
1 |
Kyrie |
Sop. & Alto |
Largo |
C |
4/4 |
|
2 |
Gloria |
Gloria in excelsis Deo |
Vivace |
C |
3/4 |
|
Qui tollis peccata mundi |
Bass |
Adagio |
A – a |
2/2 |
||
Quoniam tu solus Sanctus |
Allegro |
C |
3/4 |
|||
Cum sancto Spiritu |
Più stretto |
|||||
3 |
Credo |
Credo in unum Deum |
Allegro |
C |
4/4 |
|
Et incarnatus est |
B-S-T-A |
Adagio |
c |
3/4 |
||
Et resurrexit |
S-A-T-B |
Allegro |
C |
|||
4 |
Sanctus |
Sanctus Dominus |
Alto |
Adagio |
C |
4/4 |
Pleni sunt coeli et terra |
Allegro con spiritu |
|||||
5 |
Benedictus |
Benedictus qui venit |
S-A-T-B |
Andante |
c |
6/8 |
Benedictus qui venit |
C |
|||||
Osanna in excelsis |
||||||
6 |
Agnus Dei |
Agnus Dei |
Adagio |
F |
3/4 |
|
Dona nobis pacem |
Allegro con spiritu |
C |
||||
Dona nobis pacem |
Più presto |
|||||
Voices & Instruments: Soloists: Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass, Chorus, 1 Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets (in C & Bb), 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns in C basso, 2 Trumpets in C, Timpani in C & G & Strings (2 Violins, Viola) & Basso continuo (Organ, Cello & Double Bass) |
Among the many contributions the London trips made to Haydn's style, the ones which stand out are the surprise in the Surprise Symphony, and the martial air of the Military Symphony. These were Haydn's two most successful works in their own time. Both of these ideas come into play in the Paukenmesse. The Kyrie begins very slowly (Largo) in a quiet way (p = piano = softly). But don't strain your ears too much, because at the start of the 5th measure, there is a sudden change (f = forte = loudly) as the entire orchestra, especially the timpani (ff) give out a great crash. And by the 11th measure, one of Haydn's most difficult solos for Soprano begins. As for the previous discussion about these Masses being written as though they were choral symphonies, it would be challenging then to explain away the fact that this Kyrie, at least, is written in concerto form! With a typically Haydnish twist: the solo soprano plus orchestra play the role of the orchestra, while the full chorus play the part normally reserved for the soloist. As always in Haydn's mature works, these tiny examples are just hints at all of the unique aspects on display in this opening movement. If you enjoy picking out parts of extraordinary beauty, try the oboe solos which sound like duets for soprano & flute like you would hear in an opera. In fact, some of the loveliest parts are what would make 'trouble' for Haydn when the works inevitably traveled beyond Vienna.
When we come to the Gloria, we see one of the revolutionary changes which Haydn introduced into the Mass at this time. Looking back at his earlier Masses, we see the traditional breakdown of the Gloria into its constituent parts. The music for each of these parts will be connected by its text, of course, and also by the normal key relationships one sees as between or within movements. All Masses were like this. But this Gloria has a difference. What Haydn first introduces in the first section, which appears to be just an accompaniment for the violins, turns out to be a tonal and rhythmic theme. You don't read about themes in 18th century Masses because they weren't relevant. But this one turns out to be the basis for the whole first section. And the same theme returns later on, to form the main structural basis of the Quoniam. The net effect is that the 'movement' is tied together by its beginning and ending sections being based on a significant tonal and rhythmic motif, which is varied in myriad ways so it never becomes tedious. Unlike Masses which preceded it, this one truly uses a method which unifies the entire movement.
Haydn was heavily criticized for these Masses, as we have seen. Lightheartedness was not his only sin though, he also left out some words here and there, something which non-Austrian purists of the time damned his soul to hell for. Others, apologists perhaps, said variously that he was old, and busy and hadn't set a Mass for a long time, so he probably forgot the words. Seriously? This is what I think. There is always evolution on display as we look at this music. Mass settings were becoming increasingly elaborate all the time. And as it happened, the musical form became increasingly disconnected from the underlying liturgy. There had been a number of attempts to scale back the musical Mass, but when Emperor Joseph II put strict limitations on the use of instruments in a Mass in the early 1780s, Haydn's response was to stop writing Masses. It is apparent he was interested in something more than merely setting the text of the Mass. It was the music itself which constituted his hymn of praise, not the words.
We saw how the work opens, with a slow introduction in the Kyrie (and the first appearance of the timpani) before moving on to the main theme. The music does not reflect the three-part structure of the Kyrie text; Haydn disposes of the second line, Christe eleison, in a mere four measures. The Gloria is divided into three parts, fast – slow - fast, like a miniature Italian symphony. The middle section features a beautifully lyric cello line. The Credo is divided into sections that generally reflect the text, but again Haydn is more concerned with the larger musical structure. At the opening, as each voice part enters, it takes a different line of text. The idea of the telescoping of the text, which we saw earlier, was not entirely dead and Haydn uses it here. He then introduces a truncated fugue at the last line, but rather than continue it to the end as might be expected, he instead constructs an elaborate coda with the quartet of soloists and the chorus alternating in an antiphonal manner (Antiphonal music is performed by two choirs in interaction, singing alternate musical phrases).
Since I am not in the music analysis business, I won't recount the most of the rest of the Mass, with the exception of the Agnus Dei, specifically because this is where Timpani Mass derives from. After opening with three repetitions of the (quite short) text of the Agnus Dei, we are treated to an ominously soft solo for the timpani. While today, lacking context, we might think this is just an introduction for the next section, there would have been no one among the contemporary audience who did not recognize instantly that it was a reference to the approach of Napoleon and the French Army. Back when we discussed the Military Symphony, I wrote the following about the drumrolls in the Andante:
The feeling of dread evoked by the drum roll, followed by a discordant chord (Ab in the key of C) and then the trumpet fanfare (believed to be the Prussian Army's call "Parade Post") which we saw above in the Morning Chronicle review was "a climax of horrid sublimity…". And indeed it was, then and now. But in modern times, 'sublime' has acquired a connotation of "extremely good, beautiful, or enjoyable", while in Haydn's time, the philosophical and literary meaning of sublime was very different. To Haydn, as to his audience, sublime meant "something that could provoke terror in the audience, for terror and pain were the strongest of emotions". This is yet another pitfall of listening to 18th century music with 21st century ears. If what the audience of 1794 perceived in this expert intertwining of light, march style with the unmistakable sounds of conflict was "horridly sublime", then the degree of mastery exhibited by Haydn here is at an impossibly high level….
Substitute 1796 for 1794, and look at the words, something not always done, but which is necessary to understand Haydn in this instance:
Latin |
English |
Agnus Dei, qui tolis peccata mundi, |
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, |
miserere nobis. |
have mercy on us. |
Agnus Dei, qui tolis peccata mundi, |
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, |
dona nobis pacem. |
grant us peace. |
There is an entire body of literature, it seems, on this Mass. For us now, knowing it was debuted at the Basilica of Maria Treu on 26 December 1796 is the important thing. Next year we will discuss other uses but for now, a careful listening in an otherwise silent milieu. Listening to the sublime music, the dreadful thunder of the timpani, the 1500 year old Latin text begging yet again for mercy from the terrifying enemy without the gates, understanding all the while how the original auditors were facing the reality of the entire spectacle. And if Haydn's final Dona nobis pacem ends on a cheerful Più presto of perhaps unwarranted faith that the Austrian Army would hold off Napoleon, well, that's what faith is for, after all.
Next time, we will look at 1797, a year which produced yet another array of Greatest Hits!
Thanks for reading!
1 - H.C. Robbins Landon - Joseph Haydn: Chronicle & Works vol. 4 - Indiana University Press - 1977
2 - P[amela] Poulin, 'The basset clarinet of Anton Stadler', College Music Symposium 1982, 22, p. 67.
3 - Robert Demaree & Don Moses - The Masses of Joseph Haydn - Classical Heritage Press - 2008
Maps
- Rickard, J - Napoleon's crossing of the Po, 1796, http://www.historyofwar.org/Maps/maps_napoleon_across_po.html
- Rickard, J - War of the First Coalition - Rhine Front 1796, http://www.historyofwar.org/Maps/maps_rhine_front_1796.htm