Beethoven's Credo from Missa Solemnis
After such an epic Gloria, we might expect a respite, a shorter and quieter movement. Instead, Beethoven’s Credo movement is even more complex, more massive than even the Gloria, with an even greater emotional arc.
It begins as a chant or work song on the word Credo (I believe). The simple tune is similar to the Russian folk song “Volga Boatmen” with its heave-ho. It is as if an entire congregation is singing together single-mindedly professing belief.
We return to Heaven (as always in D major) with the text God of God, Light of Light.
Beethoven then takes us on the epic religious journey through music. God descends from heaven to earth as a Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit becomes incarnated as a man born to the Virgin Mary. The man is dramatically crucified, buried, and ultimately resurrected, ascending back to heaven. This grandiose arc all happens in a large middle section of the Credo, set as a dramatic opera-oratorio.
To convey the mystery of the Holy Spirit becoming flesh, Beethoven’s counterpoint in the tenors and basses reaches deep into Renaissance-style counterpoint.
The tenor represents the incarnation as man (Homo).
For the crucifixion, the musical texture changes dramatically. The soloists sing in an operatic, melodramatic style. The burial of Jesus ends deep in the abyss.
Abruptly the tenors announce the resurrection and the music sweeps the spirit back to heaven.
All of these sections together comprise a Development Section of the Credo. After this arc, the music of the opening Credo returns as a Recapitulation. Beethoven then sets the text that catalogs specific Catholic Beliefs—belief in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; belief in the resurrection; belief in baptism to atone for sins; belief in a Second Coming and Everlasting Life.
That would be more than enough events for one movement. But Beethoven is just getting started. For the final phrase of the Credo, “for the life of the world to come,” he writes a double fugue. That’s a fugue that simultaneously weaves together not one subject (theme), but two!
Then in a coda, he makes the fugue subject twice as fast—what we call diminution. The choir has to have virtuoso chops, singing the fugue subject with clarity and precision at frightening speed.
Are we done yet? Of course not. The soloists have their say as well. Yet another fugal section begins with them singing “Amen.”
Finally the choir percussively shouts A-MEN twice fortissimo, each syllable separated by a rest. A profound shout to the cosmos! Is it a plea? Is it an affirmation? Is it a sublime percussive hope? After these shouts, the orchestra ascends to heaven, first climbing in the woodwinds and then climbing in the strings as the choir quietly affirms “Amen.”
What a variety of musical styles and vast spectrum of emotions there are in this Credo movement! And what structural invention. It’s a lot to take in for us listeners. As I said before, this movement and the preceding Gloria are as massive in scope and conception as any movement in a Mahler symphony. And yet emotionally, all of this music so far is really a preparation of the Sanctus that follows…