Anton Webern, First Cantata, Op. 29
Webern
composed his first cantata in 1939, but it was not performed during his
lifetime. It is scored for soprano
soloist, 4-part chorus, and a small orchestra.
The first movement is for chorus and orchestra, the second for soprano
and orchestra, the third for soprano, chorus and orchetra. Each movement sets a poem by Hildegarde Jone,
Webern’s close friend, who wrote mostly about religion and nature, and who was the
only poet whose texts Webern set during the last 20 years of his life. The first poem describes God’s lightning that
created life “out of the cloud of the Word.”
The second is about a maple seed that twirls down to earth carrying all
the genetic information for a giant tree, which in turn will produce another
seed. The third is about the old Greek
gods in the new Christian era: although memory of them has faded, the natural
world that they embodied still brings peace to mankind. Texts and translations of all three poems are
given below.
The cantata is composed with 12-tone
methods throughout. All three movements
are based on the same row:
A – F – Ab – G – B – Bb – C# - C – E
– Eb – F# - D
Webern
uses this row, its inversions and its transpositions to generate all the
melodic and harmonic material of the entire cantata. (Retrogrades and retrograde inversions are
superfluous, because the retrograde of this row is simply a transposition of
its inversion, and the retrograde inversion is a transposition of the row
itself.) You can see (and hear) an
example of the row at its “prime” pitch level in the first movement in the
soprano part from m. 14 through m. 19.
If you make yourself a magic square, you will see that the other parts
are also singing through the row: alto = I11, tenor = P10,
bass = I9. You can also find
the row in the instrument parts, but there you have to look a little harder
because Webern uses the technique of Klangfarbenmelodie
so that a single statement of the row is played by a series of instruments one
after another, to create a kaleidoscope of sound colors.
Webern – in this cantata and in his
music in general – doesn’t use the row motivically as Schoenberg tends to do
(e.g. Piano Suite, op. 25) or melodically as Berg does in his violin concerto. Instead of sounding like a recognizable tune,
Webern’s row seems to give a distinctive color to the cantata. The row consists entirely of thirds (major
and minor) and minor seconds, and these occur over and over as melodic intervals in both instruments
and voices. Webern uses major 7ths and
minor 9ths (inversions of 2nds) frequently as well -- sixths somewhat
less. This small group of intervals
makes the melodies sound a lot like one another: it even creates a kind of
expectation about what the next interval will be, and this enables the listener
to follow the row from one instrument to another. (In the voices the row usually remains in the
same part.) The row also gives a
distinctive harmonic color to the cantata.
Webern arranges row forms on top of one another so that they often
produce pairs of 4ths or 5ths a half step apart (e.g. in the first
measure). These open sonorities are
heard with great regularity (e.g. mm. 14-19), again creating a distinctive
color and generating an expectation in the listener.
3 Poems by Hildegarde Jone
I
Anzündender Lichtblitz des Lebens schlug
ein aus der Wolke des Wortes
Donner, der Herzschlag, folgt nach,
bis er in Frieden verebbt.
Lightning, the kindler of Being,
struck
flashed from the Word in the storm cloud.
Thunder, the heartbeat, follows,
at last dissolving in peace.
II
Kleiner Flügel, Ahornsamen, schwebst im Winde!
Musst doch in der Erde Dunkel
sinken.
Aber du wirst auferstehn dem Tage,
all den Düften und der Frühlingszeit;
wirst aus Wurzeln in das Helle steigen,
bald im Himmel auch verwurzelt sein.
Wieder wirst aus dir du kleine Flügel senden,
die in sich schon tragen deine ganze
schweigend Leben sagende Gestalt.
Little winged seed of maple, borne by breezes!
You must fall to earth and lie in darkness.
But then you shall rise again to daylight,
to the fragrance and the air of
Spring;
from your earth-roots you shall rise to
toward light,
soon in heaven too you’ll be rooted.
And again you’ll extend your wings, little maple,
who contain already in stillness
your entire form, a whole new life.
III
Tönen die seligen Saiten Apolls,
wer nennt sie Chariten?
Spielt er sein Lied durch den wachsenden Abend,
wer denket Apollon?
alle verklungen;
sind doch im Worte die schwächeren Worte
lange gestorben;
und auch die blasseren Bilder
zum Siegel des Spektrums geschmolzen.
Charis, die Gabe des Höchsten:
die Anmut der Gnade erglänzet!
Schenkt sich im Dunkel dem werdenden Herzen
als Tau der Vollendung.
Hearing the blessed strings of the Sun god,
who senses the Graces?
When his song echos in the darkening evening,
who remembers Apollo?
In that music, haven’t the old names,
all faded away?
Didn’t the weaker words long ago perish,
slain by the Word’s might,
as pale images melt
into the seal of the spectrum?
Charis, the gift of the highest,
the grace of her favor still sparkles!
She comes in darkness, the ripening heart’s gift,
as dew of fulfillment.