PERGOLESI –
JAROUSSKY – STABAT MATER
Of course we know “Stabat Mater”
by heart, but we have heard it sung by women so often that we wonder at times
if it is not a piece exclusively for women. So imagine the good news, Philippe Jaroussky
is going to sing it with a soprano as his partner, Julia Lezhneva. This soprano
is maybe a little bit too powerful at times, and maybe slightly too shrill. But
apart from that I defy you not to make the difference between a male
countertenor and a female soprano, though the CD does not tell us when each one
sing, alone or in duet. Yet a mixed couple is perfect because the Stabat Mater
itself is based on a couple, the faithful believer who is addressing the Mother
of Jesus at the foot of the cross.
So we follow the intricate music
and we start with a perfect canon over which Jaroussky flies like a breeze carrying
extreme sorrow. The voice of this sorrow becomes then in the second stanza the
piercing sword itself. The address to the Mother in third person, in
descriptive style is effective to the utmost here with this powerful
expressivity of the voice as sharp as a sword blade. We can then in the third
stanza get into sadness down to the neck, or even drown in it and the fourth
stanza can express the support of the faithful to the Mother suffering thus at
the foot of the cross and witnessing the slow dying of her own son, her own
flesh and blood.
We can then shift to the people,
to the faithful, shift from one faithful believer addressing the Mother to all
believers, all the faithful witnessing the same scene of the Mother suffering
because of the suffering of her son fulfilling his mission: to save the people
from their sins. The address to the people in the form of questions and
suspended singing or music is sublime in tone. We doubt yet we do not doubt
though we could doubt, we are being convinced that there is no doubt possible. Everyone
has to feel empathy in front of this Mother witnessing the death of her son. And
the power of the power when bringing in the mission is just what we need to let
ourselves be convinced of. And we can then go back to the Mother’s suffering and
that sorrowful, hesitating, trembling, staggering singing that evokes so well
the strain and pain of the Mother.
And we come back after a short
musical transition to the only one interested in all that scene: the “I” who
was speaking at the beginning, the “I” who is speaking to the Mother,
addressing her directly and personally. The demand is simple: “I” wants to
mourn with the mother, share the pain. And the request becomes a demand and the
Mother has to do it, to share her pain with me, a me that is double but it does
not matter. The Mother has to share her pain, grant the faithful the possibility
to be directly involved. This appropriation of the suffering of the Mother in
front of what is nothing but a human sacrifice is not supposed to cathartically
alleviate the horror, but just to in a way partly dispossess the Mother of it
by making me part of it. And this finds its crowing stanza in shifting from the
Holy Mother to The Virgin:
“Virgin most exalted among
virgins,
Be not now ill-disposed towards
me;
Grant that I may grieve with you.”
This shift is perfectly conveyed
by the singing and the music, with a short interlude, or introduction to the next
phase, a musical strength and power that imply something has changed, is
changing. The “I” speaking wants to be the direct bearer of the passion, of the
human sacrifice, divinely amplified and celebrated. And that suffering “I” wants
to carry is no longer suffering for “me” but “inebriation” with the cross and
the love of Jesus. He is thus entering the human sacrifice as a contemplation,
an inner spectacle that carries him away in perfect inebriated empathy. The Mother
has been pushed aside as the suffering Mother by this empathy laced with
inebriation.
We then can come to another change
in the music this time nearly happy and frivolously gay. The “I” after all had
and still has some interest in all his empathy; it was not gratuitous. He suffered
with the Mother and he tried to charm the Virgin to get all the help he could
get from those aforementioned Mother and Virgin on the last day of this life,
on the Second Coming, on Judgment Day. We can then conclude with some softer
and maybe sadder, but in the satisfied way of enjoyment, evoking of “my” death
that is not going to be a death at all because the Mother and Virgin will have
supported me into paradise because of all the empathy I have demonstrated
towards them.
This poem has always been for me
the most hypocritical blackmailing I can imagine/ In front of this human
sacrifice and of the justified suffering of the Mother: I accept to carry part
of the pain, to appropriate that pain into myself but only to get the support
of the Mother who has to give me something back in repayment for my empathy,
and that will be my salvation. So then, I can say “Amen” as many times as I
want. I win.
This rendition, Jaroussky particularly,
is a miracle of expressivity and flexibility and the text is so well supported by
the tone that the hypocrisy of the Amen’s counting their little benefits, well
little really, is exposed to anyone who can hear the difference between a
breeze and a blizzard.
Then we can move to other pieces that
are just plain joy and communion.
The “Laudate Pueri Dominum” is
nothing but such a liturgical joyful praise for God and evocation of the power
and grandness if not grandiose-ness of the Lord, of God. We are obviously in
liturgical pieces that are part of vespers and that are just supposed to be a
happy meeting around the evocation of the Lord’s resurrection after his
crucifixion. The music may vary from one stanza to the next it remains in a way
stilted and pompous, even when it tries to be soft and discreet. There are
interesting variations in rhythm and tempo but the tone is always the same: let’s
rejoice and share the joy of this rejoicing since we are saved and we can count
on this absolute salvation that was won for us on the cross. Many people have
said nasty things about this human sacrifice, what’s more symbolically turned
into a repast on the flesh and blood of the sacrificed human victim, but such
liturgical music always let me pensive at least: how can we rejoice in it? How
can we accept such a deal: your death on the cross and my salvation without any
suffering, except some empathy for the poor Mother?
And this self-satisfied vanity is
so beautifully expressed in the “Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto” of
this “Laudate Pueri Dominum.” The Glory we are speaking of is not that of the Father
and Son and Holy Spirit but the glory I get by kneeling and bending in front of
this trinity, of this re-established trinity of older times after the dual
episode of the Old Testament in which God is nothing but himself and his spirit
in order to purge the paganism of all religions around Israel and the Jews at
the time. Then eternity can be announced and sung. Amen.
The “Confitebor Tibi Domine” is
quite the continuation of this tone. All the work is on the side of the Lord,
of God. He does everything and he gives us all we need to be happy and to be
guaranteed eternity in paradise. We just have some little commandments to abide
by. Nothing at all after all. It is God himself who is compassionate for us and
drowns us in his compassion provided we accept to drink his wine, or his blood
if you prefer, and eat his bread, his flesh if you like it better, and this
wine and this bread are nothing but the few ten commandments and some cardinal virtues
to keep and some deadly sins to reject. Nothing at all, after all. Don’t play
with your sinning body or mind and you won’t get deaf to the Lord’s call when
it is time to go on to the other side of this life. The soprano is quite good
in the “Fidelio” though I would have preferred the countertenor, but it is true
sung by a woman this evocation of the commandments is ironical: the carrier of
the original sin is singing the commandments though she missed them as soon as
she turned her eyes towards nothing but an apple and an apple tree and she met
the worm in the fruit, the snake on the tree.
Luckily the countertenor takes
over for the evocation of the Lord’s redemption, the redemption he gave us, he
gave the woman of the previous stanza and her contradiction. Luckily God is
magnanimous, generous, glorious. And the slightly sad tone of the “Redemptionem”
gets joyous again in the “Sancrum” because we can only know joy, happiness and satisfaction
if not even enjoyment – and some may go slightly farther along that line – in front
of this redemption and the glory of God, his Son and his Holy Spirit. “Gloria
Patri, et Filio, et Sipritui Sancto” then, again and again. And we can conclude
with the eternity of this happiness. Gosh it is easy to be happy for Catholics.
And the Coro della Radiotelevisione Svizzera Lugano is perfect for that last
moment of communion in eternal joy. And Amen then and therefore. I believe
therefore I am.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 4:22 AM