Quattro Pezzi Sacri (Four Sacred Pieces)

Ave Maria

Stabat Mater

Laudi alla Vergine Maria

Te Deum

The Four Sacred Pieces are all products of Verdi’s last years: the Ave Maria and the Laudi alla Vergine Maria were written between his last two operas, Otello and Falstaff; the Te Deum and the Stabat Mater, completed in 1896 and 1897 respectively, were his very last compositions. As far as he was concerned however – although he published them in one volume – they were separate pieces rather than constituent parts of a larger work. He did, on the other hand, agree that the Stabat Mater, the Laudi and the Te Deum should be first performed together during Easter week in Paris in 1898. The Four Sacred Pieces were performed together for the first time in Vienna in November of the same year.

Ave Maria

Before the Paris performance Verdi had insisted that the Ave Maria should be omitted. For him it was an experimental piece rather than, as he put it, “real music.” In May 1888 the Gazzetta Musicale di Milano had published a letter from a musician challenging others to harmonise an “enigmatic scale” of his own invention. Verdi not only harmonised it but wrote a whole Ave Maria round it. The “enigmatic scale” appears four times, first at its original pitch on basses followed by altos, then transposed up a fourth on tenors and finally sopranos. “Real music” or not, the Ave Maria has its own, very distinctive harmonic flavour. Beginning and ending in C major, it pursues a hazardous route through gravity-defying chromatic counterpoint to get there.

Stabat Mater

While it is nowhere near as operatic in style as the same composer’s famous Requiem, the Stabat Mater is clearly the work of a master musical dramatist. In comparison with some settings of the same words – like Rossini’s, which is divided into as many as ten separate movements    – Verdi’s version is concise, to the point and, although the tempo does fluctuate, not inclined to linger. There is nothing perfunctory, however, in his treatment of the text (speculatively attributed to the 14th-century poet Jacopo da Todi). Each emotive observation inspires an appropriate response, usually with new material and often with a change of key, the long-term strategy being to proceed from the grim G minor beginning of the piece to the radiant G major ending.

From the sobbing “Cujus animam” and throughout the vividly characterised episodes that lead to    a suddenly agonised climax on “et flagellis subditum” there is no hint of consolation until the unaccompanied “Eja mater” in the unrealistic key of B major. Before serenity can be definitively achieved, however, there is another painful climax, this time on “Cordi meo valide,” and the apparent tranquillity of the altos’ melodious “Tui nati vulnerati” is shattered by an animatedly aggressive “Fac, ut portem.” It is only after a briefly triumphant “ad palmam victoriae,” confirmed by fortissimo brass chords, that a quiet prayer of “Quando corpus morietur” leads by way of a significant modulation and a vast crescendo to the triumphant G-major cry of “gloria.” The Stabat Mater ends with a quiet echo on lower strings and woodwind of the choral melody from the opening bars, its grim message not forgotten but transformed.

Laudi alla Vergine Maria

Like the Ave maria, the Laudi alla vergine – a setting of four stanzas from the last canto of Dante’s Paradiso – is scored for unaccompanied voices (the composer actually specified just four female voices, two sopranos and two altos). In this case, however, having no “enigmatic scale” to accommodate, he created something closer in spirit to the Palestrina motets he so much admired. This is not to say that he avoided taking harmonic risks, far from it, but he did sustain a rare textural purity here. Counterpoint is most effectively offset by unisons or passages of four-part harmonies and the economy in dynamic colouring is such that, after the hushed beginning of the last stanza (“In te misericordia”), the crescendo to fortissimo on “in te s'aduna” marks a clear climax to the piece.

Te Deum

Before writing the Te Deum Verdi had a look at earlier settings, including those of Purcell and Victoria, and found that the traditional approach was not strictly true to the text. ‘It is usually sung during grand, solemn and noisy ceremonies for a victory or a coronation,’ he wrote. ‘But towards the middle the colour and the expression change … and it ends with a prayer, “Dignare, Domine, die isto” – moving, sad to the point of terror.’

Verdi’s setting is not lacking in “grand, solemn and noisy” moments. The fortissimo first entry of the double chorus combined with the orchestra on “Sanctus,” following the introductory Gregorian chant and the quietly intoned antiphonal preliminaries from tenors and basses, is a particularly startling example. There are several such vivid contrasts as changes of expression in the text are registered and reflected in scoring varying between multi-part counterpoint, involving the whole orchestra and the two choruses, and unaccompanied homophonic passages like “Solvum fac populum tuum.” At the same time events are held together by a lyrical melody (derived from the introductory chant) first heard on woodwind just before the entry of the sopranos with “Te gloriosus Apostolorum chorus” and sustaining faith until the most significant mood change of all. The closing prayer “Dignare, Domine” begins quietly in minor harmonies over a throbbing bass line and only gradually achieves the confidence to make a last dramatic appeal, “In te speravi” – a sentiment echoed by a solo soprano in the closing bars.

Ave Maria

Stabat Mater

Laudi alla Vergine Maria

Te Deum

The Four Sacred Pieces are all products of Verdi’s last years: the Ave Maria and the Laudi alla Vergine Maria were written between his last two operas, Otello and Falstaff; the Te Deum and the Stabat Mater, completed in 1896 and 1897 respectively, were his very last compositions. As far as he was concerned however – although he published them in one volume – they were separate pieces rather than constituent parts of a larger work. He did, on the other hand, agree that the Stabat Mater, the Laudi and the Te Deum should be first performed together, under the direction of Paul Taffanel during Easter week in Paris in 1898. Within a month they were introduced to Italy in the same way, this time with Arturo Toscanini conducting, at the Turin Exposition. The Four Sacred Pieces were performed together for the first time in Vienna in November of the same year.

Before the Paris performance Verdi had insisted that the Ave Maria, which had already been performed in Parma three years earlier, should be omitted. For him it was an experimental piece rather than, as he put it, “real music.” In May 1888 the Gazzetta Musicale di Milano had published a letter from a musician challenging others to harmonise an “enigmatic scale” of his own invention: C, D flat, E, F sharp, G sharp, A sharp, B, C in the ascending form, F natural replacing F sharp in the descending form. Verdi not only harmonised it but wrote a whole Ave Maria round it. The “enigmatic scale” appears four times, first at its original pitch on basses followed by altos, then transposed up a fourth on tenors and finally sopranos. “Real music” or not, the Ave Maria has its own, very distinctive harmonic flavour. It begins and ends in C major but pursues a hazardous route through gravity-defying chromatic counterpoint to get there.

While it is nowhere near as operatic in style as the same composer’s famous Requiem, the Stabat Mater is clearly the work of a master musical dramatist. In comparison with some settings of the same words – like Rossini’s, which is divided into as many as ten separate movements    – Verdi’s version is concise, to the point and, although the tempo does fluctuate, not inclined to linger. There is nothing perfunctory, however, in his treatment of the text (speculatively attributed to the 14th-century poet Jacopo da Todi). Each emotive observation inspires an appropriate response, usually with new material and often with a change of key, the long-term strategy being to proceed from the grim G minor beginning of the piece to the radiant G major ending.

From “Cujus animam,” where a sobbing motif on violins and woodwind accompanies the tearfully descending line of the chorus, and through the vividly characterised episodes that lead to    a suddenly agonised climax on “et flagellis subditum” there is no hint of consolation until the unaccompanied “Eja mater” in the unrealistic key of B major. Before serenity can be definitively achieved, however, there is another painful climax, this time on “Cordi meo valide,” and the apparent tranquillity of the altos’ melodious “Tui nati vulnerati” is shattered by an animatedly aggressive “Fac, ut portem.” It is only after a briefly triumphant “ad palmam victoriae,” confirmed by fortissimo brass chords, that a quiet prayer of “Quando corpus morietur” leads by way of a significant modulation and a vast crescendo to the triumphant G-major cry of “gloria.” The Stabat Mater ends with a quiet echo on lower strings and woodwind of the choral melody from the opening bars, its grim message not forgotten but transformed.

Like the Ave maria, the Laudi alla vergine – a setting of four stanzas from the last canto of Dante’s Paradiso – is scored for unaccompanied voices (the composer actually specified just four female voices, two sopranos and two altos). In this case, however, having no “enigmatic scale” to accommodate, he created something closer in spirit to the Palestrina motets he so much admired. This is not to say that he avoided taking harmonic risks, far from it, but he did sustain a rare textural purity here. Counterpoint is most effectively offset by unisons or passages of four-part harmonies and the economy in dynamic colouring is such that, after the hushed beginning of the last stanza (“In te misericordia”), the crescendo to fortissimo on “in te s'aduna” marks a clear climax to the piece.

Before writing the Te Deum Verdi had a look at earlier settings, including those of Purcell and Victoria, and found that the traditional approach was not strictly true to the text. ‘It is usually sung during grand, solemn and noisy ceremonies for a victory or a coronation,’ he wrote. ‘The opening lends itself to that since Heaven and Earth are rejoicing, “Sanctus, sanctus, Deus Sabaoth.” … But towards the middle the colour and the expression change … and it ends with a prayer, “Dignare, Domine, die isto” – moving, sad to the point of terror.’

Verdi’s setting is not lacking in “grand, solemn and noisy” moments. The fortissimo first entry of the double chorus combined with the orchestra on “Sanctus,” following the introductory Gregorian chant and the quietly intoned antiphonal preliminaries from tenors and basses, is a particularly startling example. There are several such vivid contrasts as changes of expression in the text are registered and reflected in scoring varying between multi-part counterpoint, involving the whole orchestra and the two choruses, and unaccompanied homophonic passages like “Solvum fac populum tuum.” At the same time events are held together by a lyrical melody (derived from the introductory chant) first heard on woodwind just before the entry of the sopranos with “Te gloriosus Apostolorum chorus” and sustaining faith until the most significant mood change of all. The closing prayer “Dignare, Domine” begins quietly in minor harmonies over a throbbing bass line and only gradually achieves the confidence to make a last dramatic appeal, “In te speravi” – a sentiment echoed by a solo soprano in the closing bars.

Gerald Larner © 2009