Page:EB1911 - Volume 20.djvu/188

 Auferstehung the Evangelist is accompanied by four viole da gamba in preference to the organ. In any case, Schütz tells us, the players are to “execute appropriate runs or passages” during the sustained chords. Apart from their remarkable dramatic force, Schütz’s oratorios show another approximation to the Passion oratorio of Bach’s time in ending with a non-scriptural hymn-chorus, more or less clearly based on a chorale-tune. But in the course of the work the Scriptural narrative is as uninterrupted as it is in the Roman Catholic Passions. And there is one respect in which the Auferstehung, although perhaps the richest and most advanced of all Schütz’s works, is less realistic than either the Roman Passions or those of later times; namely, that single persons, other than the Evangelist, are frequently represented by more than one voice. In the case of the part of the Saviour, this might, to modern minds, seem natural as showing a reverent avoidance of impersonation; and it was not without an occasional analogy in Roman Catholic Passion-music (in the polyphonic settings of special words). But Schütz’s Passions show no such convention; this feature is peculiar to the Auferstehung; and, while the three holy women and the two angels in the scene at the tomb are represented realistically by three and two imitative voices, it is curious to see Mary Magdalene elsewhere always represented by two sopranos, even though Schütz remarks in his preface that “one of the two voices may be sung and the other done instrumentaliter, or, si placet, simply left out.”

Shortly before Bach, Passion oratorios, not always so entitled, were represented by several remarkable and mature works of art, most notably by R. Reiser (1673–1739). Chorale-tunes, mostly in plain harmony, were freely interspersed in order that the congregation might take part in what was, after all, a musical church service for Holy Week. The feelings of devout contemplative Christians on each incident of the story were expressed in accompanied recitatives (arioso) leading to arias; and the Scriptural narrative was sung to dramatic recitative and ejaculatory chorus on the ancient Roman plan, exactly followed, even in the detail that the Evangelist was a tenor.

The difference between Bach’s Passions and those of his predecessors and contemporaries is simply the difference between his music and theirs. Where his chorus represents the whole body of Christendom it has as peculiar an epic power as it is dramatic where it represents with brevity and rapid climax the responsa turbae of the Scriptural narrative. Take, for example, the double chorus at the beginning of the Passion according to St Matthew, where one chorus calls to the other to “come and behold” what has come to pass, and the other chorus asks “whom?” “what?” “whither?” to each exhortation, until at last the two choruses join, while above all is heard, phrase by phrase, the hymn “O Lamm Gottes unschuldig.” Still more powerful, indeed unapproached even in external effect by anything else in classical or modern oratorio, is the duet with chorus that follows the narrative of the betrayal. Its tremendous final outbreak in the brief indignant appeal to heaven for the vengeance of damnation on the traitor is met by the calm conclusion of the Evangelist’s interrupted narrative and the overpowering tenderness of the great figured chorale (“O Mensch bewein’ dein’ Sünde gross”), which ends the first part with a call to repentance. Such contrasts might seem to be but the natural use of fine opportunities furnished by the librettist; but the composer appears to owe less to the librettist when we find that this chorale originally belonged to the Passion according to St John, where it was to follow Peter’s denial of Christ. To modern ears the most striking device in the Matthew Passion is that by which the part of Christ is separated from all the rest by being accompanied with the string band, generally at a high pitch, though deepening at the most solemn moments with an effect of sublime euphony and tenderness. And a peculiarly profound and startling thought, which has not always met with the attention it deserves, is the omission of this musical halo at the words “Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani.” These points are aesthetically parallel with Wagnerian Leit-motif, though entirely different in method. (See .)

In his amazing power of declamation Bach was not altogether unanticipated by Keiser; but no one before or since approached him in sustained elevation and variety of oratorio style. Analogies to the forms of Passion music may be found in many of Bach’s church-cantatas; a very favourite form being the Dialogus; as, for instance, a dispute between a fearing and a trusting soul, with, perhaps, the voice of the Saviour heard from a distance; or a dialogue between Christ and the Church, on the lines of the Song of Solomon. The Christmas Oratorio, a set of six closely connected church-cantatas for performance on separate days, is treated in exactly the same way as the Passions, with a larger proportion of non-dramatic choruses expressive of the triumphant gratitude of Christendom. Many of the single church-cantatas are called oratorios. If it were not that Bach’s idea of oratorio seems to be definitely connected with that of dialogue, there is really no reason in musical terminology why the B minor Mass should not be so called, for it can never have been liturgical either in a Roman Catholic or in a Protestant church. But in all respects it stands alone; and we must now return to Handel’s far more heterogeneous work, which forms the staple of almost everything else that has been understood by oratorio until the most recent times.

Handel discovered and matured every possibility of oratorio as an art-form, except such as may now be brought to light by those composers with whom the influence of Wagner is not too overwhelming for them to consider how far his principles are applicable to an art unconnected with the stage. Handel shows us that a definite oratorio style may exist in many different degrees. He was evidently impressed by the German forms of Passion-music as combining the utmost dramatic interest with the most intense contemplative devotion; and it is significant that it was after he came to England, and before his first English oratorio, that he set to music the famous poetic version of the Passion by Brockes, a version which had been adopted by all the German composers of the time, and which, with very necessary and interesting improvements of taste, was largely drawn upon by Bach for the text of his Johannes-Passion. Handel’s Brockes-Passion does not appear ever to have been performed, though Bach found access to it and made a careful copy; and it is difficult to see what motive, except interest in the form, Handel had for composing it. At all events it furnishes an important connecting-link between Bach’s solution of the problem of oratorio and the various other solutions which Handel afterwards produced so successfully. He soon discovered how many kinds of oratorio were possible. The freedom from stage restrictions admitted of subjects ranging from semi-dramatic histories, like those of Saul, Esther and Belshazzar, to cosmic schemes based exclusively on the words of the Bible, such as Israel in Egypt and the Messiah. Between these types there is every gradation of organization; and it may be added, every gradation between sacred and secular subjects and treatment. The very name of Handel’s first English oratorio, Esther, with the facts of its production as a masque and the origin of its libretto in Racine, show the transition from the stage to the church; and a really scandalous example of the converse transition may be found by any one rash enough to look for the source of some of Haman’s music in the Brockes-Passion. Roughly speaking we may reduce the types of Handelian oratorio to a convenient three; not divisible among works as wholes, but always evident here and there. Firstly, there is the semi-operatic method, in which the arias are the utterances of characters in the story, while the conception of the chorus rarely diverges from that of multitudes of actors (e.g. Athalia, Belshazzar, Saul, &c.). The second method is a more or less recognizable application of the forms of the Passion-music to other subjects, without, however, the conception of a special rôle of narrator, but (as, for instance, in “Envy, eldest born of Hell” in Saul) with the definite conception of the choruses as descriptive of the feelings of spectators rather than of actors. Handel’s