Natasha Loges
Academic, critic and writer
‘Brahms’s Requiem can feel dauntingly vast and complex, especially if you’re in the choir! But I’ve also been reminded that it’s a deeply moving testament of personal and collective grieving – and healing.’
Completed just before the Franco-prussian War, the Requiem touched German listeners
The work
A ‘sort of German Requiem’ – this was the unformed compositional plan that the 32-year-old Brahms announced to his friend Clara Schumann in a letter 1865. Four years later, this magnificent work fulfilled the prophecy of Brahms’s genius made by Clara’s husband Robert in 1853.
Brahms’s A German Requiem emerged from a decade of turmoil. The composer was moving between cities, seeking professional opportunities. He was absorbing musical influences ranging from Wagner’s operas to Schubert’s choral and orchestral works, which were emerging posthumously in Vienna. He also held his first demanding job as conductor of the Vienna Singakademie, a role that exposed him to several centuries’ worth of choral repertoire.
However, circumstances were increasingly troubled at home in Hamburg. Following her separation from Brahms’s father, the composer’s beloved mother Christiane died of a stroke, aged 76, in early 1865. Johannes rushed home but was too late to see her. By April, he sent Clara Schumann two movements of the Requiem.
The rest of the year was preoccupied with concerts and other compositions, but Brahms returned to the
Requiem in early 1866. Three movements were trialled unsuccessfully in Vienna, but some listeners recognised that it was perhaps too austere, too ‘Bach-protestant’ for the pleasureloving Viennese. Brahms’s friend Albert Dietrich sent the score to the organist of Bremen Cathedral, Karl Reinthaler. He was so impressed that he organised a performance for Good Friday, to be conducted by the composer himself.
At that point there were six movements, settings of Lutheran Bible texts Brahms had collated himself, which trace a trajectory from suffering to acceptance: the first movement opens, ‘Blessed are they who mourn’; the dramatic second movement opens by declaring that all flesh is like grass, but the word of the
Lord endures; the third introduces the baritone soloist, who pleads with God for acceptance of his transience; the sunny fourth, the most popular standalone number, contemplates the beauty of heaven; the original fifth movement matches the second, setting the famous ‘The trumpet shall sound’, and continuing to demand ‘Death, where is thy sting?’; reconciliation is achieved in the last movement with the words ‘Blessed are the dead’.
However, Reinthaler pointed out a hitch, namely that none of the movements clearly stated Christian doctrine. Brahms responded that he’d deliberately omitted such passages. A compromise for the premiere was achieved by including the aria ‘I Know that My Redeemer Liveth’ from Handel’s Messiah. The performance was a huge success – for Dietrich, it was ‘simply overwhelming’ – and Brahms was celebrated afterwards at a banquet.
Inserting the Handel aria was clearly a sticking-plaster solution, so Brahms wrote a new fifth movement, for soprano solo and chorus, on the words: ‘Now you mourn, but I will comfort you like a mother’. For many, this is the expressive heart of the work, recalling Brahms’s own tragic loss.
Historians have also argued for other possible associations: for instance, with the death of Schumann, Brahms’s mentor and friend; with a broader humanist message; and finally, with a nationalist imperative. Certainly, the Requiem, completed just before the Franco-Prussian War, touched German listeners, symbolising the dead of war as well as signalling the emergence of a new empire. Nevertheless, the work was soon performed all over Europe, including in a piano duet performance in London in 1871. Given its vast performance tradition, it’s hard to pin down Brahms’s intentions. For example, most of the tempo markings in early versions were simply Andante. Later, he replaced the first movement Andante with Ziemlich langsam und mit Ausdruck (‘Quite slow and with expression’), suggesting a weightier, more nuanced conception. Similarly, the Andante con moto of the final movement was replaced with Feierlich (‘ceremonially’) – regardless of how it is done, it remains challenging even for experienced choirs.
Nearly 30 years later, Brahms asked his publisher to remove the metronome marks from the score, saying that ‘good friends’ had persuaded him to add them. This has led to much controversy in the best way to present his intentions. The preparation of a new edition of the work by the team of the Brahms Collected Edition has taken decades – but Brahms-lovers can rejoice that it is finally in print.
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