It has been called the saddest classical piece of music ever written. It was played on the radio upon the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1945 and was played at the funerals of Albert Einstein, John F. Kennedy and Princess Grace of Monaco. It has been featured in several well-known American movies, including as the soundtrack to an intimate scene in the gay film drama “A Very Natural Thing” in 1974 (Barber himself was gay), and was one of the few American compositions to be played regularly in the Soviet Union during the Cold War.
Samuel Barber composed his Adagio for Strings when he was only 25 years old and submitted it to Arturo Toscanini for possible performance. It premiered in 1938 and soon captured the hearts of audiences around the world.
The piece is not a religious work, let alone a work typically associated with the liturgical season of Lent. However, the appeal of this music has been so universal and has become so associated with death, mourning and contemplation of the human condition that I believe it is appropriate to include it in a classification of Lenten music.
I personally believe this piece of music, more than any other, characterizes the spirit of the 20th century with its two world wars, the colossal death and destruction wrought by two of the greatest tyrants of all time, Hitler and Stalin, and the subsequent Cold War which brought the imminent threat of nuclear annihilation. It evokes images of the suffering and struggling human spirit, as well as a very contemporary Savior of World atoning not only for our individual sins, but also for the collective sins of humanity in our modern age. Thus, the use of the Salvadore Dali painting, Christ of St. John of the Cross, as the lead image, above, which evokes an image of a very contemporary Christ suffering for the whole world.
Because of its intense and broad appeal, Adagio for Strings was selected in 2001 for performance at the Last Night of the Proms in Royal Albert Hall in London, only a few days after the September 11th attacks. Here is an unforgettable video clip of Leonard Slatkin conducting the BBC Orchestra in a performance on that occasion of this intensely beautiful piece of music:
Agnus Dei
In 1967, Barber transcribed the piece for 8-part choir as a setting for the Agnus Dei (“Lamb of God”).
The Agnus Dei is part of the Roman Catholic mass as well as the services of the Anglican Communion and the Lutheran Church. Based upon John the Baptist's reference in John 1:29 to Jesus ("Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world"), the text in Latin is:
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
which means:
Lamb of God, you who take away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, you who take away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, you who take away the sins of the world, grant us peace.
If possible, Agnus Dei is even more hauntingly beautiful than the orchestral Adagio for Strings. Here is a stunningly ethereal performance, with images highlighting the Lamb of God who atones and was slain for the modern world (including one of my favorite paintings of the Savior), by London Oratory School Schola and London Lads, featuring soloist Andrew Johnston (boy soprano featured on Britain’s Got Talent):
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir has also performed Barber’s Agnus Dei. While on tour in Spain in 1998, the choir was invited to present a concert in the historic Basílica El Escorial near Madrid, where they performed the work. Here is a video clip of that performance:
Lenten Reflections
“To be human is to be on a pilgrimage …”
This past Sunday, I attended a Catholic mass for the first time in over 25 years. A friend had wanted to visit the Cathedral of the Madeleine, so I agreed to go along, if for no other reason than to hear their choir sing.
“One of the most fundamental insights of the Christian view of the world,” he said, “is that to be human is to be on a pilgrimage. At any moment in our lives we are still on the way, still in process, still unfinished.
“The image of pilgrimage has always helped Christians to understand the ever-changing aspects of their lives in a way that has meaning. Christians do not believe that life is a pointless trip, a journey to nowhere. It is a pilgrimage, which by definition means a holy journey to God’s Kingdom. The journey may be difficult, painful, but it does have a gracious end.
“Like Abraham, we are always being called forth, always drawn beyond the present. Something in us never allows us to settle down. The Spirit who dwells in us keeps us restless, on the move; keeps us looking forward to a better place, a better destination. Our eyes are always set down the road, over the mountains, on the edge of the horizon.”
To conclude this post, I am including the following video that features a performance of a piece sung by the Madeleine Choir at the mass which I attended this past Sunday: the Agnus Dei from Josquin des Prez’ Missa Pange Lingua.
I had never heard of des Prez, and upon looking him up discovered that he is considered the “first master of the high Renaissance style of polyphonic vocal music” and was regarded during his lifetime (spanning the latter half of the 15th century and the first quarter of the 16th century) as the greatest composer of his age. Who knew? (I certainly didn’t.) The newly-enfranchised gay me wants to point out how good it feels to expand one’s knowledge and experience, to taste beautiful music such as this for the first time and be enriched by it! That’s why I wanted to share it.
Dear Invictus,
ReplyDeleteI haven't yet had time to listen to the pieces you've selected, but look forward to doing that calmly this evening.
What struck me in this post is that this is a season of mourning. I think that I had totally forgotten that from my Catholic roots. It is a time of mourning: of the horrors of wars and genocides that occur daily but not covered by media and History; of those we have lost through death, through divorce or through misunderstandings and pain; of our own self whom has been lost under the layers of trauma, depression, submission or fear - it is a time to mourn these losses and to feel the presence of their absence ... and it is a time of hope, thanks to our retrospective position in time: we know that Spring will come, that after mourning comes release and healing and finally rebirth.
I was also especially touched by the priest's decision to speak of Pilgrimage: “To be a pilgrim people helps explain why we are often so often unsatisfied with our achievements and feel ill at ease with where we find ourselves. St. Augustine explained this unease by saying that God has made us so we will always yearn for something better, for something more. In Augustine’s words: ‘Lord you have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.’ Human beings have pilgrim hearts, pilgrim souls.
May our restlessness push us towards greater peace and joy, an enhanced ability to love and comprehend others and to respect difference.
je t'embrasse! libellule
Merci, ma chere ... I so appreciate the additional insights you have provided, for Lent should indeed be a time that we allow ourselves to mourn the things of which you have written, looking forward to the promise of atonement and rebirth ...
ReplyDelete"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ..."