Christ on the Mount of Olives by Giovanni |
In this, his 250th Anniversary year, please listen to Beethoven’s only oratorio – Christ on the Mount of Olives. Criticised by some for emphasizing Jesus’s humanity, for others it is precisely the vivid portrayal of Christ’s agony in the garden that connects the listener to the divine.
Christ on the Mount of Olives (Christus am Ölberge) was the only oratorio
composed by Beethoven. Unlike other Passion Oratorios, it is set entirely in
the Garden of Gethsemane and, also unusually, rather than using the voice of an
evangelist to narrate the story, places Christ himself in the main (tenor)
role.
The piece was criticized,
even by Beethoven himself (is any artist ever satisfied with their work?) Some
commentators find fault in what they perceive as a rushed composition
(apparently completed in two weeks in time for Holy Week in 1803), but most
decry what they see as too great a focus on the “humanity” (rather than the
divinity) of Christ. The oratorio offers an extended reflection stretching a
few short but intense passages from scripture into a performance that
completely envelops the listener in the agony and anguish of Jesus on the night
before his trial and brutal death. This is a Maundy Thursday Vigil in music;
but not a genteel vigil in a silent candle-lit church with beautiful arrangements
by the flower-guild. Beethoven makes us spend our ‘watch hour’ with a man on
the verge of a mental breakdown.
“Jehovah Thou my Father,
as Thou hast power, give me strength to bear!” Jesus cries in the opening line
of the libretto by Franz Xaver Huber.
Luke’s account of the
scene describes a seraph (the highest of the ranks of angels) attending Jesus
in the garden. In the oratorio the seraph fulfils their role as a messenger of
God; explaining the path Jesus must take and why. The seraph has a fantastic,
almost impossible, vocal part (well seraphs are other-worldly aren’t
they?!)
The oratorio places
Jesus’s decision to accept the cup of his passion right at the centre of the
work, within a beautiful duet between God the Father (through the voice of the
seraph) and God the Son, before Jesus sings “Then welcome, death”. The soldiers
arrive soon after and lead him away - the work ending with what has become
known colloquially as Beethoven’s “Hallelujah Chorus”. Agony replaced by hope.
Jesus leaves not as victim, but victor.
Jesus’s decision to accept
the cup is presented here as the climax of his Passion - Beethoven omits the
crucifixion and resurrection; mankind’s atonement with God starts in the
garden, just like our fall. Whilst our attention is purposely directed towards
the vivid portrayal of Christ’s emotions (not least by placing Christ in the
principal vocal role), I am not sure I agree with those who imply a heretical
tendency towards the separateness of the human and the divine in the composition.
This
interesting article by Fred Haight explores Beethoven’s moral philosophy
and finds a link to the writing of the poet and philosopher Friedrich Schiller.
Both artists were, he says, influenced by the desire for the emancipation of
mankind expressed in the American Revolution but horrified by the barbarity of
many in revolutionary France. Freedom doesn’t mean doing whatever we want, but
to do God’s will. Haight writes:
“For Beethoven, as for
Schiller, freedom is the freedom to develop one’s own cognitive powers, in
order to carry out that necessary mission, on behalf of humanity as a whole,
for which the Creator put us here in the first place.”
For Haight, it is
Beethoven’s focus on this cognitive freedom in Christus am Ölberge that
connects the listener to the divine;
“How many Christians see
the acceptance of their own, personal “cup of Gethsemane” as a central point of
their religion? Do they not prefer, rather, to focus upon a covenant with God,
whereby they might obtain entrance into a future heaven, and ignore their
responsibility to carry out God’s work here on earth? In times of great crisis,
such as war, this quality of Gethsemane may arise in the majority of people,
but in other times, such as ours, it is sadly lacking”
In this programme note
to accompany a rare performance of the piece in February by the LSO (which,
sadly, we missed), Lindsay Kemp suggests that Beethoven may have found personal
meaning in Huber’s treatment of the text. The previous summer, Beethoven had
composed the ‘Heiligenstadt Testament’ - an unsent letter to his family
composed while recouperating from mental illness brought on by the realisation
of his oncoming deafness.
Perhaps Huber’s depiction
of Christ’s mental anguish and fear for the future - before accepting his task
in life (and death) affirmed Beethoven’s own decision to continue he composing
despite his increasing disability?
This year, the 250th
anniversary of Beethoven’s birth, please do spare fifty minutes to listen to
this fascinating piece of music!
I am grateful to my
partner Henry for introducing me to it (along with so many other pieces). His
favourite recording is on the CBS Masterworks Portrait label – Eugene Ormandy
conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra, but I cannot find that on YouTube but
the link below includes Harnoncourt Conducting the Concertus Musicus Wien and
another video showing the score.
New Years Day 1945
Researching the background to Beethoven's composition and reading the article by Fred Haight brought to mind this poem by Dietrich
Bonhoeffer - written in one of his last surviving letters before his execution.
With every power for good
to stay and guide me,
comforted and inspired beyond all fear,
I’ll live these days with you in thought beside me,
and pass, with you, into the coming year.
While all the powers of
Good aid and attend us,
boldly we’ll face the future, be it what may.
At even, and at morn, God will befriend us,
and oh, most surely on each New Year’s Day
The old year still
torments our hearts, unhastening:
the long days of our sorrow still endure.
Father, grant to the soul thou hast been chastening
that Thou hast promised—the healing and the cure.
Should it be ours to drain
the cup of grieving
even to the dregs of pain, at thy command,
we will not falter, thankfully receiving
all that is given by thy loving hand.
But, should it be thy will
once more to release us
to life’s enjoyment and its good sunshine,
that we’ve learned from sorrow shall increase us
and all our life be dedicate as thine.
To-day, let candles shed
their radiant greeting:
lo, on our darkness are they not thy light,
leading us haply to our longed-for meeting?
Thou canst illumine e’en our darkest night.
When now the silence
deepens for our harkening,
grant we may hear thy children’s voices raise
from all the unseen world around us darkening
their universal paean, in thy praise.
While all the powers of
Good aid and attend us,
boldy we’ll face the future, be it what way.
At even, and at morn, God will befriend us,
And oh, most surely on each new year’s day!
Links
Gethsemane,
as Schiller would treat it – Fred Haight, The Schiller Institute
Christ
on the Mount of Olives – German/English Libretto
New
Years Day 1945, a poem by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Image : Christ
on the Mount of Olives by Giovanni
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