On August 21, 1875 the Dvořák family suffered a tragedy. The newest addition to the family, a daughter Josefa, passed away only two days after being born. Six months later, Antonín Dvořák began to set to music the Stabat Mater dolorosa, a Latin poem composed by Franciscans in the 13th century that meditates on the Virgin Mary’s grief at the death of her son, Jesus. At 35, Dvořák was still little known outside Prague, and no commission lay behind the Stabat Mater; this was a piece he wrote for himself.
An unorchestrated draft was completed by May 1876, but the piece remained unfinished until an even greater tragedy befell his family during the summer of 1877. While unattended, his eleven-month-old daughter Růžena ingested a fatal amount of a phosphorous solution that was then commonly used in households for making matches, and his three-year-old son Otakar died of smallpox a month later. Though they would later be blessed with several more children, Dvořák and his wife were left childless by September. Almost immediately, Dvořák returned to the Stabat Mater, completing it two months later.
Dvořák would not find an opportunity for the premiere of his sacred masterpiece until 1880, after he had won international fame as the composer of the Slavonic Dances. The piece left audiences profoundly moved, and helped secure Dvořák’s reputation as a serious composer, particularly in chorus-loving England and America. In addition to being a response to personal tragedy, Dvořák’s Stabat Mater was also an ambitious artistic statement; it ranks among the most substantial of Stabat Mater settings.
The piece is also a response to contemporary trends in religious music. The Cecilian movement, for instance, was against the use of orchestral instruments in sacred music and called for a return to a more restrained, a capella style. At the other end of the spectrum, Rossini’s popular Stabat Mater, perhaps the most famous recent setting of the poem, was overtly theatrical and full of operatic, virtuoso singing that many felt was too worldly for such a serious text. Dvořák would chart a middle course between these extremes; his Stabat Mater uses the full resources of the orchestra, but is also a profound meditation on loss and faith. It takes listeners on an emotionally honest journey through grief to spiritual healing, concluding with a radiant, optimistic ending.
The Music
The opening movement is the most symphonic; it begins with a substantial orchestral passage that introduces the main themes of the movement, both of which are based on a descending chromatic scale, a musical symbol of death and suffering since the baroque era:
The first is an anguished melody that arises out of a misty opening; the second is a sweeter, more lyrical idea. When the chorus enters, it gives words to these two melodies, adding new material of its own and building to a series of powerful climaxes. The soloists introduce a more developmental section based on the anguished melodic idea, but fall silent as the chorus alone reprises the main melodies. The soloists reappear near the end to sing a brief reminiscence of the main theme.
The subsequent movements mostly fall into two categories; those with a ternary structure (ABA—a main melody with a contrasting middle section) and those with a binary structure (ABAB—two main ideas are introduced and reprised with some variations). The second movement is an example of the former, an exquisite quartet in which the soloists enter one by one, asking “Who is the person who would not weep seeing the Mother of Christ in such agony?” They then pair into duets in a contrasting middle section, which leads back to a reprise of the first part and a haunting coda in which the soloists chant together, “She saw her sweet offspring dying, forsaken, while He gave up his spirit.”
The binary-structured third movement features the chorus, which sings “O Mother, fountain of love, make me feel the power of sorrow, that I may grieve with you.” It begins with a melody composed of short, almost hesitant phrases which lead to a more lyrical outpouring. The music builds to a powerful climax on the word “fac” (the “make” of “make me feel”), which is followed by a reprise of the movement’s themes. The fourth movement is also binary in structure; a penitent bass solo leads to a contrasting idea sung by an angelic female chorus accompanied by organ. These ideas are then reprised, with the choral section expanded to include the men of the chorus. The bass solo concludes the movement with a solemn coda.
In the choral fifth movement, the mood begins to lighten somewhat with flowing triplets in a major key; the contrasting middle section of this ternary movement, however, is more dramatic in tone. The binary sixth movement continues the progress toward healing as the tenor soloist leads the men of the chorus in a simple, pious melody. As with the previous movement, the contrasting second idea is more intense. The seventh movement, however, is a gentle chorus that remains lyrical throughout.
The eighth movement, an expressive duet for soprano and tenor, is more continuously developmental in structure, building from a point of rest to increased instability and back again. A solo for the mezzo-soprano, the penultimate movement, returns to a darker, minor key sonority, though the contrasting central section of this ternary form turns to major. Stylistically, the main theme recalls baroque music with its walking bassline.
The finale brings the work full circle, at last resolving the harmonic tension of the opening. After a dark, minor-key quartet and chorus on the words “Quando corpus morietur” (“When my body dies”), the powerful, anguished music from the first movement returns, but this time climaxes with a turn to major at the words “grant that to my soul is given the glory of paradise.” The lyrical theme from the first movement then reappears, leading to a radiant fugue on the word “Amen.” The splendor of the fugue fades to the work’s serene conclusion, leaving listeners full of hope and peace. —Calvin Dotsey
Don’t miss Dvořák’s Stabat Mater with the Houston Symphony conducted by Music Director Andrés Orozco-Estrada September 27, 29 & 30, 2018. Get tickets and more information at houstonsymphony.org.
