Brahms' Ave Maria

Beautiful

One wonders, regarding this Ave Maria, why Brahms did not set the last part of the prayer to music, where it says "peccatoribus, nun et in hora mortis nostrae", and no answer can be given. . And yet, I would say, the answer lies in the philosophy of the German Requiem: Brahms, in his set texts, always transcends every threat of eternal punishment.

Deep reflection Daniele, thank you.

But is this something unique to Brahms, or in general? Are there perhaps other examples in the repertoire that omit parts of the text for philosophical reasons?

Annuccia wrote:

Deep reflection Daniele, thank you.

But is this something unique to Brahms, or in general? Are there perhaps other examples in the repertoire that omit parts of the text for philosophical reasons?

The first composer who bent texts to philosophical ends was, obviously, Beethoven. This occurred not only by omitting parts of the text – Schiller's Ode to Joy itself is shortened in Beethoven's Ninth – but also by proposing music and expressions to a sacred text that had a very precise philosophical purpose: this already happened with Christ on the Mount of Olives Opus 85 and, even more disruptively, in the Missa Solemnis Opus 123.

It can be said that after the Missa Solemnis, sacred music definitively emerged from its cage of religious celebration to rise as a meditation on God, on life, and on death.

Brahms was an extremely important and indispensable protagonist in this. His Ave Maria Opus 12 of 1858 was but the first piece of a journey of meditation on the theme of death and resurrection, which then passed through some of his Motets, the German Requiem Opus 45, the Song of Destiny Opus 54 and, finally, the Four Serious Songs Opus 121.

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Is all of this not perhaps also linked, and above all, to his life, understood as how he saw himself in the world, in his relationship with others, with the female figure, which from what I know, he had to renounce due to his inability to express his feelings, and in relation to the hope that rises in much of his music, having precisely music as part of his less known personality, precisely because he was unable to express it in any other way? I ask this because, although I cannot remember where, I barely remember reading that Brahms realized "almost with horror" that he was unable to express his affection for Clara Wieck in a clear and decisive way, and besides her, he was unable to do so with any other woman. I do not know if this is true, but I know I read something that alluded to this, and for this reason, I was wondering if his searching for "truth" (referring to the meaning of the word philosophy) was somehow linked to an extreme inner suffering.

With the meaning of the word philosophy, I meant a "broad" meaning, understood as love for truth, therefore the search for meaning, for the why of things and of everything, establishing what is a question and what is an answer, in short, a term that has a profound meaning, always difficult to express in a few words.

Piccinesco wrote:

Is all of this not perhaps also linked, above all, to his life, understood as how he saw himself in the world, in his relationship with others and with the female figure, which from what I know, he had to renounce due to an inability to express his feelings, and in relation to the hope that rises in much of his music, having precisely music as part of his less known personality, precisely because he was unable to express it in any other way? I ask this because, although I cannot remember where, I barely remember reading that Brahms realized "almost with horror" that he was unable to express his affection for Clara Wieck in a clear and decisive way, and besides her, he was unable to do so with any other woman. I do not know if this is true, but I know I read something that alluded to this, and for this reason, I wondered if his searching for "truth" (referring to the meaning of the word philosophy) was somehow linked to an extreme inner suffering.

I would say yes without a shadow of a doubt!

The problem, in reality, as always happens in our human lives, stemmed from childhood: Brahms' father married a woman much older than him, and Johannes also fell in love with Clara, who was much older than him.

There are many letters between Johannes and Clara full of ardor and passionate outbursts. But Brahms was always extremely timid and modestly restrained toward her, and their intimate story remains shrouded in a jealous secret which, even for this reason, makes it even more fascinating.

Spectacular, Brahms always had a certain effect on me; his music seems to me like something imperious, almost distant and inscrutable, yet very intimate. If one thinks of Brahms the man, I am almost tempted to say that he tried to ask for help through his own music, and making Clara read the scores was an attempt to bring clarity to what he felt for her.