Symphony No.2, Lobegesang,
     by Felix Mendelssohn

Born in Hamburg, Germany, February 3, 1809; died in Leipzig, Germany, November 4, 1847

Ever since the tremendous success of his oratorio Saint Paul in 1836, Felix Mendelssohn and his friends had been looking for a suitable new religious text for him to set. Early on, he decided he would like to do an oratorio about the Old Testament prophet Elijah, but it took years to create a workable libretto, and Elijah did not actually appear until 1846.

The arrival in 1840 of the 400th anniversary of Johannes Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press offered an intriguing alternative. Though Gutenberg had been a native of Mainz in western Germany, the major festivities were to be held in Leipzig, the center of the German printing industry and the home of the renowned orchestra Mendelssohn directed, the Leipzig Gewandhaus. And, of course, it would be unthinkable for the festivities to take place without a grand new work by Leipzig’s leading musical citizen.

In fact, Mendelssohn composed not one but two works for the festival, which ran for three days that June. On June 24th, he led a rather bombastic outdoor piece in Leipzig’s main square, a Festgesang performed by a 200-voice male chorus accompanied by 16 trumpets and 20 trombones! It was an ephemeral work designed just for that occasion, but one section managed to live on in a new guise. Set to words by the English Methodist Charles Wesley in 1856, it is well known to us today as the Christmas carol “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”

On the next day, June 25—the Feast of John the Baptist and an important holiday in German lands when printers’ apprentices traditionally were initiated into their craft—Mendelssohn presented a far greater work: a hybrid symphony and cantata lasting some 70 minutes. Later published as his Second Symphony, it is far better known—and really more accurately described—by its subtitle, “Lobegesang” or “Song of Praise.” In some sense, it follows the pattern of Beethoven’s Ninth or “Choral” Symphony: three purely instrumental symphonic movements followed by an extended choral finale.

But while Beethoven’s finale still fits within the overall framework of a symphony, Mendelssohn’s explodes the “Lobgesang” into something quite different: a full-fledged cantata in nine sections lasting far longer than the three instrumental movements combined. Using words mainly drawn from the Psalms, its major theme is praise to God for all His benefits to humankind, including, of course, the life-enhancing gift of the printing press. A strong secondary theme, expressed throughout the text, is the struggle between darkness—implying man’s ignorance before printing was invented—and the eventual triumph of the light of knowledge. As Mendelssohn explained, “first the instruments praise in their own way, then the choir and the solo voices.” A prominent motto theme, presented by trombones in the first movement and returning with words attached in the cantata, links the two major sections together.

Certainly this ambitious structure was most appropriate for such a grand festival occasion, but since that time it has prevented the “Lobgesang” from receiving as many performances as it deserves, though it was still extremely popular during the 19th century. Many have criticized its dual nature, saying that it is neither a proper symphony nor a proper cantata. Mendelssohn scholar R. Larry Todd describes it as “a broad historical review that relates the German past to the present and summons various musical icons—symphony, cantata, oratorical elements, responsorial psalmody, and chorale—into the service of praising God.” But to not hear the “Lobgesang” is to miss some of Mendelssohn’s loveliest and loftiest music, for he was truly one of the giants of 19th century choral music.

Listening to the Music

Movement one opens with the trombones proudly intoning the motto theme with its bold signature dotted rhythm. In this typical first-movement sonata form, the tempo soon accelerates into the main allegro section and a lively, almost boisterous principal theme. The mood of praise and celebration is already stamped on the music. But the proud motto theme will remain equally important and will drive the contrapuntal energy of the development section. After this movement has reached its joyous conclusion, a quiet bridge passage, based on the motto and featuring a solo clarinet, leads smoothly into the next movement. (Notice throughout this work how Mendelssohn will endeavor to maintain a continuous flow from movement to movement.

The Allegretto second movement is a very charming and delicately scored waltz (but in 6/8 time rather than the usual 3/4) that seems to possess little connection to the “Lobgesang’s” overall theme. Mendelssohn does, however, provide a musical link in the middle or trio section, where an archaic-sounding, Lutheran-style chorale, intoned by woodwinds and brass, intermingles with the waltz.

Marked Adagio religioso, the third movement somewhat resembles the rapt mood of the corresponding movement in Beethoven’s Ninth. Featuring very effective writing for the woodwinds, it is an instrumental hymn revolving around a lovely yet dignified melody with solemn repeated notes. This is a slow movement in which time actually seems to stand still, hovering in expectation.

The pulsing ostinato we heard in the middle of the third movement now intensifies to an excited gallop as “Lobgesang’s” vocal portion begins. Once again, the trombones followed by other instruments proclaim the motto theme, and now the chorus gives it words: “Alles, was Odem hat, lobe den Herrn!”—“All who have breath, praise the Lord!” The chorus elaborates the motto in a rapid series of imitative entrances. The music then hushes and slows slightly, and the first soprano soloist offers a more personal expression of thanks, contrasting with the corporate praise of the chorus.

In a brief recitative and aria “Saget es . . . Er zählet uns’re Tränen” (“He numbers our tears”), the tenor soloist introduces the theme of darkness and sings serenely of God’s comfort to the bereaved. In response, the chorus adopts some of his words and sets them to a pensive new melody.

One of the loveliest moments in “Lobgesang” is the mellifluously flowing duet for the two soprano soloists, “Ich harrete des Herrn” (“I waited for the Lord”). Hauntingly introduced by solo horn, it continues with subtle, eloquent support from the chorus.

The most dramatic of the vocal numbers, the tenor’s “Stricke des Todes” (“The Bonds of Death”), follows. Set in the dark key of C minor, it represents the culmination of the struggle between darkness and light and the musical/emotional turning point of the whole cantata section. Until now, the keys of the vocal numbers have been steadily descending; with the soprano’s response they will begin to rise again to finally regain the work’s bright home key of B-flat major. The tenor’s repeated, anguished cries “Hüter, ist die Nacht bald hin?” (“Watchman, will the night soon pass?) prominently use the uncomfortable interval of the tritone, the “devil in music.” But ultimately the soprano soloist answers with the radiant line “Die Nacht ist vergangen” (“The Night has departed”), and C minor brightens into the daylight of D major.

The remainder of “Lobgesang” is a triumphant paean to the light, or more specifically to the enlightenment shed by Gutenberg’s invention and its vital assistance in spreading the word of God to people now able to read the scriptures for themselves. A more contemplative contrast appears with the famous old Lutheran chorale “Nun danket Alle Gott” (“Now Thank We All our God”); we first hear it in a plain version for unaccompanied six-part chorus, then wreathed in a beautiful orchestral countermelody. Mendelssohn closes his uplifting festival piece with a powerful fugal chorus and a last majestic return of the motto theme “Alles was Odem hat” in chorus and orchestra.

Notes by Janet E. Bedell