Selig sind die Toten by Heinrich Schütz
Here at the end of a long month, near the end of an excruciating election cycle, well over seven months into the pandemic, and a week after we lost Rick Beebe, I am surprised to find that I have not yet sent out Heinrich Schütz' magnificent setting of 'Selig sind die Toten', from his Geistliche Chormusik (1648).
I want hereby to rectify this omission. Most of you know the piece one way or another, but that's only more of a reason to send it out. For those who don't know it: I hope you enjoy getting to know this remarkable piece.
It's always difficult to express what makes for greatness in art. We always have to nibble around the edges, because we're essentially 'dancing about architecture'--using one language (words) to describe another (music). In addition, each great work is unique, and as such can't fully be judged by standards and values applicable elsewhere.
And yet it's worth trying, inasmuch as words can hint at ways to listen--can provide a sort of map--can draw a listener's ears and mind and heart and soul to certain features and turns of phrase. I like to think of it as akin to looking at a painting with a beloved friend, someone who knows you well, and who already knows and loves the work of art in question. He/she can take us by the hand, point out features, wax enthusiastic on effects and shadings, share the musings of his/her heart--and, with luck, with care, with love, can help us to develop our own connections, our own understandings,
our own unique construal of meaning.
One thing about the Schütz--indeed, about the entire imitative polyphonic genre--is that the text is presented in segments. Each segment--a line or phrase or sentence of the source text--is provided with its own perfectly-adapted musical line, which is expressed in each of the voices in turn and in combination. These 'points of imitation' are usually self-contained, but often there is overlap and interpenetration reflecting the composer's understanding of the relationship of text-units.
Thus, because music happens in time, we are led in time through the text--in this case the passage from Revelations--
via a series of miniature tone-poems, each embodying to the best of his/her ability the composer's
of each textual phrase.
This structural characteristic of the style--a succession of distinct, text-basedphrases--allows us one way to talk/write about a piece. What does each text-phrase mean? What does a composer do with each phrase? How does each phrase follow the last? What does this tell us about his/her understanding of the text? Which elements of the text are brought out, which elided, which connected backwards or forwards?
Interrogating a piece in this way can lead to apposite and fruitful observations. Again, always dancing about architecture: But remember that with vocal music, that comes with the turf. The process involves one art (music) trying to express or complement or perfectly embody the message of another (in this case, a biblical passage).
So, for what it's worth, with great humility and little space, let me (metaphorically) grab your hand and take you through this wonderful piece, phrase by phrase, pointing out a few sights and sounds along the way. Here's a link to a great performance you could use as you go. See below for additional materials.
Selig sind die Toten, die in dem Herren sterben (Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord): The first thing to notice is the cosmic six-part texture. Schütz makes the most of this in his chordal opening ('Selig sind die Toten), which is more or less repeated several bars later. In between and following, he sets the words 'die in dem Herren sterben' imitatively and more intimately; the voices travel back and forth and up and down, depicting for us all the people who 'die in the Lord'. A lot of emphasis is placed throughout on the key words 'Selig' and 'sterben'.
Von nun an (from now on): This short section is treated as a bridge from one thought to another. Schütz' music perfectly reflects this function: The previous section sort of winds down, and this extra little phrase, with a little stretching at the cadence, tugging for a second at our hearts, paves the way to the next section.
Ja, der Geist spricht (Yes, says the spirit): Here Schütz bursts forth with the ultimate cosmic affirmation: YES! With baritones leading the way, all voices participate in this twofold declaration which is at the heart of the piece. And recall: This affirmation flies in the face of death.
Sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit (They rest from their labors): This passage is extended and repeated. It's divided into two segments: 'They rest'--unforgettably expressed and amplified--and 'from their labors'--extended with interlocking, repeated lines moving to a most extended cadence.
Und ihre Werke folgen ihnen nach (And their works follow after them): Schütz chooses a quick, almost business-like motive to set these words, imitated many times in a back-and-forth sort of group acclamation and affirmation that what we do in our lives matters, persists, is not lost.
Finally, the entire last two sections are repeated, with many changes of voicing and contrapuntal detail. Finally, he creates a coda from the previous materials, with the two thrilling, descending soprano parts leading the way to the end.
All this, of course, barely scratches the surface. If we could fully explain a great work in the space of an email, would it truly be a great work? But even just trying to describe some aspects of the music seems to somehow bring us a bit closer to it. Try it for yourself--it's not dangerous, and could lead to interesting discoveries. Or (if you feel truly adventurous) try to express your thoughts/feelings/spiritual promptings about the piece and its message in some other medium: Dance it! Paint it! Sculpt it! Write a poem about it!
Attached are the usual materials: Score, recording and text/translation.
The recording is from our March, 2004 recording session at Sonoma Country Day School.
Rick Beebe was in the bass section; today's motet is dedicated with love to his memory.
May blessings fall upon you like rain from the sky,
Here at the end of a long month, near the end of an excruciating election cycle, well over seven months into the pandemic, and a week after we lost Rick Beebe, I am surprised to find that I have not yet sent out Heinrich Schütz' magnificent setting of 'Selig sind die Toten', from his Geistliche Chormusik (1648).
I want hereby to rectify this omission. Most of you know the piece one way or another, but that's only more of a reason to send it out. For those who don't know it: I hope you enjoy getting to know this remarkable piece.
It's always difficult to express what makes for greatness in art. We always have to nibble around the edges, because we're essentially 'dancing about architecture'--using one language (words) to describe another (music). In addition, each great work is unique, and as such can't fully be judged by standards and values applicable elsewhere.
And yet it's worth trying, inasmuch as words can hint at ways to listen--can provide a sort of map--can draw a listener's ears and mind and heart and soul to certain features and turns of phrase. I like to think of it as akin to looking at a painting with a beloved friend, someone who knows you well, and who already knows and loves the work of art in question. He/she can take us by the hand, point out features, wax enthusiastic on effects and shadings, share the musings of his/her heart--and, with luck, with care, with love, can help us to develop our own connections, our own understandings,
our own unique construal of meaning.
One thing about the Schütz--indeed, about the entire imitative polyphonic genre--is that the text is presented in segments. Each segment--a line or phrase or sentence of the source text--is provided with its own perfectly-adapted musical line, which is expressed in each of the voices in turn and in combination. These 'points of imitation' are usually self-contained, but often there is overlap and interpenetration reflecting the composer's understanding of the relationship of text-units.
Thus, because music happens in time, we are led in time through the text--in this case the passage from Revelations--
via a series of miniature tone-poems, each embodying to the best of his/her ability the composer's
of each textual phrase.
This structural characteristic of the style--a succession of distinct, text-basedphrases--allows us one way to talk/write about a piece. What does each text-phrase mean? What does a composer do with each phrase? How does each phrase follow the last? What does this tell us about his/her understanding of the text? Which elements of the text are brought out, which elided, which connected backwards or forwards?
Interrogating a piece in this way can lead to apposite and fruitful observations. Again, always dancing about architecture: But remember that with vocal music, that comes with the turf. The process involves one art (music) trying to express or complement or perfectly embody the message of another (in this case, a biblical passage).
So, for what it's worth, with great humility and little space, let me (metaphorically) grab your hand and take you through this wonderful piece, phrase by phrase, pointing out a few sights and sounds along the way. Here's a link to a great performance you could use as you go. See below for additional materials.
Selig sind die Toten, die in dem Herren sterben (Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord): The first thing to notice is the cosmic six-part texture. Schütz makes the most of this in his chordal opening ('Selig sind die Toten), which is more or less repeated several bars later. In between and following, he sets the words 'die in dem Herren sterben' imitatively and more intimately; the voices travel back and forth and up and down, depicting for us all the people who 'die in the Lord'. A lot of emphasis is placed throughout on the key words 'Selig' and 'sterben'.
Von nun an (from now on): This short section is treated as a bridge from one thought to another. Schütz' music perfectly reflects this function: The previous section sort of winds down, and this extra little phrase, with a little stretching at the cadence, tugging for a second at our hearts, paves the way to the next section.
Ja, der Geist spricht (Yes, says the spirit): Here Schütz bursts forth with the ultimate cosmic affirmation: YES! With baritones leading the way, all voices participate in this twofold declaration which is at the heart of the piece. And recall: This affirmation flies in the face of death.
Sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit (They rest from their labors): This passage is extended and repeated. It's divided into two segments: 'They rest'--unforgettably expressed and amplified--and 'from their labors'--extended with interlocking, repeated lines moving to a most extended cadence.
Und ihre Werke folgen ihnen nach (And their works follow after them): Schütz chooses a quick, almost business-like motive to set these words, imitated many times in a back-and-forth sort of group acclamation and affirmation that what we do in our lives matters, persists, is not lost.
Finally, the entire last two sections are repeated, with many changes of voicing and contrapuntal detail. Finally, he creates a coda from the previous materials, with the two thrilling, descending soprano parts leading the way to the end.
All this, of course, barely scratches the surface. If we could fully explain a great work in the space of an email, would it truly be a great work? But even just trying to describe some aspects of the music seems to somehow bring us a bit closer to it. Try it for yourself--it's not dangerous, and could lead to interesting discoveries. Or (if you feel truly adventurous) try to express your thoughts/feelings/spiritual promptings about the piece and its message in some other medium: Dance it! Paint it! Sculpt it! Write a poem about it!
Attached are the usual materials: Score, recording and text/translation.
The recording is from our March, 2004 recording session at Sonoma Country Day School.
Rick Beebe was in the bass section; today's motet is dedicated with love to his memory.
May blessings fall upon you like rain from the sky,