1635: Music and Murder (49 page)
Read 1635: Music and Murder Online
Authors: David Carrico
****
Mary almost licked her lips in anticipation as the performance progressed. There was a cluster of soprano recitatives and ariosos after the
Pifa
. Andrea stepped forward to sing them. The last of the soprano ariosos led directly into the chorus
Glory to God in the Highest
, one of the brightest of the choruses that was just full of energy. With a bit of a musical joke, the chorus stopped several measures before the end, and the orchestra parts dwindled to just a few short chords played
pianissimo.
Andrea and Marla exchanged places. The orchestra played the introductory measures and Marla began
Rejoice Greatly, O Daughter of Zion
, one of the two greatest soprano airs of the work. She had done it during her recital last year, but as Mary just bathed in the music, it seemed as if this performance was even more . . . she searched for a word . . .
brilliant
, perhaps, like a jewel that had been cut and polished to its finest potential. There was no doubt in Mary's mind now that Marla would be a force in the music of Europe for years to come.
This performance was undoubtedly bravura, and when it came to an end Mary clapped along with the others.
****
And so the evening went. Master Carissimi was almost enthralled as the various choruses, airs, recitatives and ariosos followed one another through the course of the performance. He drank it all in, rising with the music until he felt as if he were floating. After an intermission of a few minutes, they moved steadily through Part II, of which he thought the high point was the very fine performance of the air
Why Do the Nations so Furiously Rage
by the young bass Dieter Fischer. He found the nature of that particular text more than a bit ironic given the times, which drew a bit of a smile from him. Still, it was now very apparent why Andrea truly wanted to take this man under his wing.
****
Marla took a deep breath as Archard finished the air
Thou Shalt Break Them With a Rod of Iron
. She had organized this performance of
Messiah
along traditional lines, omitting the handful of sections or portions of sections that were not usually performed even during 'full' performances of the work and keeping to the traditional order and sequence of the sections. However, she had made one significant change: she had moved the
Hallelujah
chorus from the end of part II—directly after the solo that Archard was even now completing—to the end of the entire work. She had her reasons, which were based on something she had told no one. She suspected that Mary Simpson might guess.
There would be another short intermission, then it would be time for her to step forward again to open Part III.
****
Master Carissimi closed his eyes as Marla began to sing.
"I know that my Redeemer liveth,
And that He shall stand at the latter day
Upon the earth."
The purity of her tone always amazed him, just as the timbre of her voice always enraptured him. If ever there was a golden voice, if ever God had so blessed someone, it was this voice, this young woman.
La fiamme sacre
—the sacred flame, that was all he could call it. The touch of God on her.
". . . and He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth, upon the earth."
Here was no showpiece. Marla sang with some intensity, true, but it was a quiet intensity. There was a slight smile on her face, Giacomo noted, but her voice floated effortlessly. It was almost as if music was simply arriving in the air by Divine providence.
"And though worms destroy this body,
Yet in my flesh shall I see God,
Yet in my flesh shall I see God."
Ah, Giacomo thought to himself. He understood something now, tonight, which he had not observed before. Here and now, Marla was singing not just words, not just a song, but her belief as well. How beautiful, to hear someone—even though a Protestant—sing in such a way that everyone who heard knew without a doubt that she believed what she was singing.
"For now is Christ risen,
For now is Christ risen from the dead,
The first-fruits of them,
Of them that sleep."
The air came to an end, Marla's voice finally concluding as it floated over the strings. They carried on for a few more measures to finish in a quiet chord. Marla stepped back into her place, the audience quiet in its place, subdued by the quiet piety they had just experienced. Giacomo opened his eyes again with a beatific smile.
La fiamme sacre
indeed.
****
Mary listened as the performance approached its conclusion after Marla's exquisite performance of
I Know That My Redeemer Liveth
. Section followed section. That amazing young bass hammered
The Trumpet Shall Sound
. Moments later, the boy alto—where did Andrea Abati find these people?—teamed with the tenor to sing
O Death, Where is Thy Sting?
. That in turn led directly into the chorus
But Thanks Be to God
, another of those joyful choruses which Händel was so adept at crafting.
Speaking of Andrea, he sang the final soprano air,
If God Be for Us
, and did superbly—of course.
Chorus followed chorus followed chorus, until they at last arrived at the final section of the work: the
Hallelujah
chorus.
Mary gripped her hands together as the orchestra began. The custom she had known from up-time was not valid here in Magdeburg, but she though she knew what was in Marla's mind. Only moments were left to see if her thinking was good.
****
"Hallelujah! Hallelujah! . . ."
The end was in sight for Marla. It had been a long evening; almost three hours since they began, at least two and one-half hours of performing. Fortunately, none of them had been singing that entire time, but it was still hard work. Now if only . . .
****
"For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth . . ."
It might be just the setting, Mary thought, but this was one of the most
stirring
performances of
Messiah
she had ever seen. The chorus was incredibly powerful for no larger than it was. There was no perhaps to it, she was being touched by tonight's work as much as she had ever been.
Despite water in her eyes, she was watching an area in the seating that Marla kept glancing at.
****
"The kingdom of this world is become,
The Kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ . . ."
Master Schütz was sitting straight now, eyes open, listening to the great work as if it was a word from God . . . which, in one form or another, it was. His original expression of determination had changed over the course of the evening, moving through pleasure and joy to one that verged on awe. The up-time books had called him the Father of German music, so in a way what he was hearing, what was pouring through his body, was a child of his work, crafted somehow 120 years in his future, and brought to him by Grantville from a time over twice that again. His eyes filled with tears.
****
"And He shall reign forever and ever . . ."
Marla had made sure that her position in the chorus allowed her to watch a portion of the seating without losing sight of Franz. The song was almost half over, and nothing.
The tenors came in with their heroic entry in this section, followed by the altos, who were in turn followed by the sopranos.
"King of Kings, and Lord of Lords,
King of Kings, and Lord of Lords . . ."
The sopranos were beginning what Marla had always thought of as climbing the ladder, repeating the King of Kings line over and over, raising the pitch a step every time, unison with the high trumpet.
The movement, when it happened, was so slight she almost missed it. It took a moment to dawn on her that Princess Kristina was standing. Standing!
The sopranos continued to climb.
"King of Kings, and Lord of Lords,
King of Kings, and Lord of Lords . . ."
Higher they climbed, sounding with the trumpets and supported by the lower voices.
" . . . and Lord of Lords . . ."
Finally, on the last rung of the climb, it happened.
****
Mary gasped when she saw Gustavus Adolphus stand to his feet. It had happened! She shot to her feet, followed a moment later by the rest of the audience. Mary was smiling at what had just happened. A correlation between a future German who was undoubtedly butterflied out of existence now, George II of England, and the master of northern Europe, Gustavus. Oh, sure, the story of George being so moved upon hearing
Messiah's Hallelujah
chorus that he stood was probably apocryphal, but it was such a lovely legend. And here, now, it was
fact
, not legend . . . with the note that it was the princess who led her father.
****
Joy shot through Marla when she saw the king climb to his feet and set his hand on his daughter's shoulder. He stood there, tall and straight, a sober expression on his face, as the chorus continued praising the God that he claimed to serve.
Marla's mind was so full of happiness that she almost lost track of the words. She did kind of hiccough one, which earned her a sidelong glance from Master Andrea. He would undoubtedly have words for her about that one at her next lesson.
The king stood!
It was a seal on their work. It was a seal on the up-time music. It was the capstone of everything she had been trying to do, and it meant that all of it, music, women musicians, now had visible royal approval. Suddenly, the future looked both brighter and easier.
Marla abandoned herself to the music with elation.
"And He shall reign forever and ever,
Forever and ever, forever and ever,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hal – le – lu – jah!"
Motifs
To the most revered and accomplished Maestro Girolamo Frescobaldi,
City of Florence
Maestro
It is with the utmost presumption that I write to you. All the world knows of your skill, of your art, of your place as the musical jewel in the setting of Florence and the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Against your demonstrated skill, sir, my efforts do seem feeble indeed. But, nonetheless, I write to you as a fellow musician, presuming upon a recent acquaintance which we have in common, that is, Maestro Giacomo Carissimi.
I, having known of the young maestro's renown for some time, was recently provided the privilege of meeting him in flesh and truth in the midst of the most unusual habitation of Grantville. It was from him that I learned that you had paid a brief visit to Grantville while you were traveling to Magdeburg at the invitation of the royal family of Sweden to perform a selection of your excellent toccatas for harpsichord. It distressed me greatly to learn that you had been so near and I knew it not, for I would have borne any hardship to come to your presence, shake your hand, and discuss with you your very intriguing thoughts and theories upon the proper performance and notation of
tempi
in your published works.
Alas, I was at the time serving at the court of the Crown Prince of Denmark, so you will perceive the difficulty of learning of your presence. I have since left the prince's employ, and such news had not arrived at the court before I left. I am "at loose ends", as the Grantvillers would say. A curiously brusque and hasty folk they might be, but their epigrams and figures of speech do strike the ear in a notable way that is most memorable.
Much the poorer for not having had the opportunity to hear you perform your finest works, and for not having had the opportunity to converse directly with you, I find myself writing to you because I most emphatically desire to hear your thoughts, opinions and theories concerning the music that has been found in Grantville. I am intrigued and disturbed at the same time, and truly wish to hear your perceptions and learn from your wisdom. If you could find the kindness to respond to my poor missive, I will be among the most grateful of men.
With the greatest of respect,
I am your most humble servant and admirer.
Heinrich Schütz
11 day of April, 1634
Grantville
****
To Frau Euphrosine Biegerin verw. Schütz
In Weissenfels
Dearest Mother
Enclosed find a small sum that I have been able to save for the provision of young Anna Justina and Euphrosine, along with scarves for them and yourself.
The provenance of the scarves is Grantville, so judge for yourself whether they can be worn or must be preserved. I found the bright colors and smooth finish to be most attractive. They are made of something called nylon. I have yet to determine exactly what beast or plant nylon is derived from, but it almost rivals silk in its lightness. I have been in Grantville for several days now, and it is a remarkable place, yet not so remarkable as the rumors perhaps would have it be. I have, however, discovered some most amazing music here.
I assume you received my letter where I informed you of my decision to leave the employ of Elector John George. I would not speak ill of my former employer, but it is a well-known fact that of late his love of splendor is exceeded only by his tight grasp on those few coins that should have been paid to those who support him.
I was for some time after that in the employ of the Crown Prince of Denmark. I have left that position as well, and at the moment am not provided for anywhere, except for a small stipend provided by something called the Royal and Imperial Arts Council in Magdeburg, where I shall be going soon. I have hopes of finding some type of position with the royal family of Sweden, perhaps through the offices of this Imperial Arts Council. King Gustav does have a better reputation for paying those who serve him.
I will remain in Grantville for some little time yet before I go to Magdeburg, so you can write to me here if you will do so soon; else send your missive to Magdeburg.
Tell Anna Justina and Euphrosine that their father loves them, and that I hope to come to visit soon.
Your dutiful son.
Heinrich
12 day of April, 1634, Gregorian style
Grantville
****
To the most revered and accomplished Maestro Girolamo Frescobaldi,
City of Florence
Maestro
I thank you for your swift response to my previous letter. By some serendipity or grace of God, it was received in less than three weeks after you wrote it.
I am flattered by your taking the time to write to me with your own hand. Yes, I am the same Schütz who studied with both Maestros Gabrieli and Monteverdi, so it seems that we have more acquaintances in common than Maestro Carissimi.
During the time between the sending of my first letter and my receiving of your letter yesterday, I confess to suffering a spiritual crisis caused by hearing music supposedly written by me in 1647. I spent several days in a most crazed state of mind, and was brought back to my wits only by conversation with a most learned and compassionate pastor, Johann Rothmaler.
As a result of my experiences, however, I am more convinced than ever that the music of Grantville must be studied and made known. Whether Grantville did indeed come from the future, as the inhabitants claim, or whether it is a whole new creation of God, I care not. Let others debate the theology and philosophy, the sciences and mechanics, the language and the behavior. We should learn their music, which is like nothing I have ever seen or heard.
Again I request your wisdom and knowledge be shared with me, that I may properly judge what I hear. I leave soon for Magdeburg. If you find it within your grace to write to me again, send it thence.
With great respect,
Your most humble servant and admirer.
Heinrich Schütz
26 day of May, 1634
Grantville
****
To Frau Euphrosine Biegerin verw. Schütz
In Weissenfels
Mother
This is a short note to tell you quickly what is happening. Since my previous letter, I have been ill, but am better now. Young Lucas Amsel, whom I am sure you recall from my last visit, has been tending me as well as ever you would wish.
I did receive your last letter, as I have not left Grantville yet. I am pleased that you and the girls like your gifts. Take care that you do not tend them with a hot iron; I have learned that great heat can ruin the nylon, which I have still not learned where it comes from. Too many other things on my mind, I am afraid.
I have not forgotten the ladies in my life. Enclosed are two garments for the girls, of the style called 't-shirts' by the Grantvillers. I confess that I do not know the meaning of the English phrase "Drama Queen" which is in some strange manner embossed upon the shirts, but these were much to be preferred than the ones upon which I saw a creature called "Pok-E-Mon." Although the Grantville children laugh about it, I fear that the pastors of Weissenfels would not so readily accept something that appeared so demonic.
Enclosed for you is a simple brooch. I am assured that the metal is a silver alloy, and that the green stones in the circle are glass, so there is not a great deal of value to it. You are safe to wear it as you choose. Knowing your delight in things that are green, I could not pass it up when I saw it. Remind me to tell you some time of the Grantville custom of 'garage sales.'
I will be traveling to Magdeburg on the morrow. When next you write to me, address the letter there, if you will.
With much love,
Your dutiful son.
Heinrich
27 day of May, 1634, Gregorian style
Grantville
****
To Frau Amber Higham
In Grantville
Frau Amber
Behold, I am so bold to write to you without first ascertaining as to whether such correspondence would be welcome to you. I much presume upon your grace, which you have shared with me many times in the last weeks of my stay in Grantville. Thank you for your kindness. I also thank you for the basket of food you provided for our trip to Magdeburg. The ham sandwiches and the deviled eggs—which should be called angelic, instead—lasted through two days of the trip, after which we were forced to rely on local food acquired from taverns and farms along the way. Before the very throne of God I would testify that your food was superior!
Signor Andrea Abati proved to be a most engaging traveling companion, other than he arises in entirely too cheerful a frame of mind each morning. I, on the other hand, with the wisdom gathered along with my gray hairs (all twenty of them), know that mornings are a time when strength must be conserved, in order to be at one's best later in the day—particularly if one has had one too many cups of wine the night before. Such wisdom made no impression upon the good signor, however. His store of jokes and scurrilous Latin songs is seemingly inexhaustible. The popish influence, no doubt. But by the end of the trip, all he had to do was say "Did you hear the one about the cardinal . . . ", and Lucas and I would start chuckling. Even Blume the horse would swivel his ears around when Signor Andrea spoke. The man's voice is seductively attractive, I will admit.
Lucas and I have found a place here in Magdeburg, and we are keeping busy by attending the various rehearsals in which my musicians are involved. I still think of them as mine, although most of them now seem to have accepted young Franz Sylwester as their leader. That young man impresses me. His fervency and dedication to his art is undeniable, and his ability to draw others in his train cannot be denied. Fifty or more string players from all over the Germanies, and he has all but welded them into a single being. I have not seen the like in all of my experience. Though I am almost twice his age, with perhaps my best years behind me, I admit to some form of jealousy to see my own players look to him with such dedication. It is unworthy of me, I know, but then I never admitted to being a saint.
And now, lest I squander the courage I have spent the last several days mustering, I must be even more shamelessly bold and tell you that I greatly desire your presence and company for the day of the first symphony concert. That will be the third of July by the new calendar, the so-called Gregorian. I will pay your way and find respectable lodging for you, of course. If you are unable to attend, I will understand, but I would be among the happiest of men if you would grace my life with your presence for those few days.
With the greatest of respect and sincerity,
Your most humble servant.
Heinrich Schütz
7 day of June, 1634
Magdeburg
****
To Frau Euphrosine Biegerin verw. Schütz
In Weissenfels
Honored Mother
Your most recent letter has found me in Magdeburg. Thank you for your news of the health of Anna Justina and Euphrosine. As I have told you many times, your ability and willingness to take them to your bosom and rear them in my Magdalena's place has been a gift as from God. The court at Dresden is no place for young girls to be left without a mother, and the court in Denmark is even worse. Knowing that they are safe in your arms has enabled me to sleep at night with some degree of peace. I am sorry that I have been unable to consistently provide more for their support. I still have hopes that the Emperor, Gustav Adolf, will find some position for me. The fact that I was once the
Kappellmeister
for the Elector of Saxony may carry some weight. It is said that the emperor derives great satisfaction in taking away everything that once belonged to the elector.
I am sorry that my warning about the hot iron did not reach you in time. Perhaps you can salvage part of your scarf as a small kerchief, or such like. I will try to find another, but since I am now in Magdeburg, it may not be possible for me to replace it.
The music that I have seen in Grantville still continues to astonish me. Preparations are under way to have a grand performance here in Magdeburg of many wonderful works from the future. And yes, I have finally accepted that they are from the future—or perhaps
a
future. In any event, over fifty strings will be participating in a grand performance. That is more players than I was ever been able to bring together, given the elector's parsimony. I so look forward to hearing this event.
Tell Anna Justina that I said she cannot wear the t-shirt to church or to school. It is only to be worn at home, or under other clothing if she goes out. And if she acts in a contrary manner, remind her that what I have given, I can also take away.
I still have hopes of coming to visit, but I cannot tell you when. Please take care of yourself.
With all respect,
Your loving son.
Heinrich
22 day of June, 1634
Magdeburg
****
To Frau Amber Higham
In Grantville
Frau Amber
Your missive has arrived, containing your acceptance of my invitation. I was so certain that you would be unwilling or unable to come that I made Lucas open it and read it for me. When he announced that you were indeed planning to come, I grabbed the letter out of his hands to see for myself that he had made no mistake. You have made an old fool glad.
No, you have chastised me that I cannot call myself old. And by the standards of Grantville, I am not, it is true. Yet I have felt old for so long, for the eternity that has been the nine years since the death of Magdalena, mother of my daughters. There has been so little joy or happiness to interrupt the tedium of my life that I have felt as if I were some ancient covered in the dust of the grave who simply had not had the sense to lie down in the tomb.
When I fell ill, with my mind all crazed and wit-loose, one of the reasons I did so was that I read the
vita brevis
of my life in the great encyclopedia, which indicated that in your world that was I had lived almost another forty years. The thought of spending that much more time in the darkness of the past nine years was almost more than I could stand. I thank God for the wisdom of Pastor Rothmaler, who drew me from the maze in which I was lost.
