Music for Souls Purified in the Fire

'On September 4, 1824, ... a composer deeply influenced by the Catholic faith and exhibiting a mysticism reminiscent of great medieval thinkers, was born.'

From One Peter Five

By Massimo Scapin

On September 4, 1824, Anton Bruckner, a composer deeply influenced by the Catholic faith and exhibiting a mysticism reminiscent of great medieval thinkers, was born. His language found expression through the late 19th-century symphonic orchestra.

Hailing from a modest peasant background in Austria, Bruckner’s musical journey began at the Abbey of St. Florian, where he received his earliest teachings. After periods as an elementary school teacher and organist, he seized the opportunity to study composition in Vienna. Embarking on his composer’s path at the age of 40, Bruckner swiftly rose to international acclaim, mingling with luminaries such as Richard Wagner († 1883), Franz Liszt († 1886), and Hector Berlioz († 1869).

Bruckner’s catalog, though not extensive, includes nine monumental symphonies (plus one, known as Symphony No. 0), written between 1865 and his death in 1896, with the Symphony No. 9 remaining unfinished. In addition to his symphonic output, Bruckner composed a great deal of sacred music, including three masses, the Te Deum, Psalm 150, and numerous motets on liturgical texts in Latin. Though less significant is his secular vocal production, Bruckner also left his mark in chamber music, notably with a String Quintet distinguished by its symphonic scope. Pope Benedict comments:

There is an element that lies at the foundations of Bruckner’s music, both the symphonic and the sacred: the simple, solid, genuine faith he professed throughout his life, to the point of wishing to be buried in the Abbey Church of St Florian, in the crypt under the massive organ he had played many times.[1]

The renowned conductor Bruno Walter († 1962), comparing the Master of Linz to another composer of late Romanticism, whom he considered partly his ideal pupil, stated: “Mahler… his whole life through, was seeking God. [In contrast,] Bruckner had found God.[2]

In celebrating Bruckner’s musical legacy, we spotlight his favorite opus: the Te Deum (YouTube) in C major for soli, mixed chorus and orchestra.

This great work,

written in one sitting then reworked over 15 years as if reconsidering how to thank and praise God better, sums up the faith of this great musician, repeated in the final great double fugue: In te, Domine speravi: non confundar in æternum. It is also a reminder for us to open our horizons and think of eternal life, not so as to escape the present, though burdened with problems and difficulties, but to experience it still more intensely, bringing a little light, hope and love into the reality in which we live.[3]

Written in May 1881 and subsequently revised in an expanded second version, which included the final fugue, between September 1883 and March 1884, the Te Deum made its debut with piano accompaniment in Vienna’s small hall of the Musikverein on May 2, 1885. The first performance with full orchestra took place on January 10, 1886, in the same city.

The traditional hymn of praise and thanksgiving to the Most Holy Trinity, generally attributed to St. Ambrose († 397) but also to St. Nicetas of Remesiana († 414), has received interpretations by eminent composers such as Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina († 1594), Orlando di Lasso († 1594), Jean-Baptiste Lully († 1687), Henry Purcell († 1695), George Frideric Handel († 1759), Hector Berlioz († 1869), Giuseppe Verdi († 1901), and Antonín Dvořák († 1904). However, it has never followed a defined formal tradition, leaving composers the freedom to interpret and set the text to music as they please. Bruckner, seizing this freedom as an opportunity, composed a score that exalted the profound spirituality of the text while reflecting the musical taste of his time. Departing from his predecessors, especially Hector Berlioz in 1849, Bruckner desired to infuse an “ecclesiastical” aura into the Te Deum. For this reason, he employed a large ensemble (soprano, alto, tenor, bass, mixed choir, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, bass tuba, timpani, organ, strings), rendering the words majestic, solemn, and laden with emotion.

The score is divided into five sections: the first (Allegro moderato), marked by the Te Deum in Gregorian chant, creates an imposing atmosphere that evokes a granite altar through music, uplifting the human spirit towards God, in line with the distinctive style of Bruckner’s famous symphonies. The brief second part, Te ergo quæsumus (Moderato), in F minor, opens with the solo tenor and develops with delicate arabesques of the solo violin, discreetly accompanied by the orchestra; it presents lyrical elements that blend with the supplicating tone of the text, which offers a prayer to God for the assistance of His servants and the salvation of His people. In the next movement, Æterna fac (Allegro moderato), the full orchestra and homophonic choir return, invoking Christ to one day welcome us in His glory, in the assembly of the Saints. The fourth part, Salvum fac populum (Moderato), still in F minor, represents an expansive and sublime interlude, with a pleading tone. The last section, In Te Domine speravi, invites us to place our hope in Christ, presenting majestic tones and ending with a colossal double fugue involving all voices and instruments.

Gustav Mahler, who conducted the Master of Linz’s Te Deum during the 1892-93 season in Hamburg, was deeply impressed by this work. In his personal score, Mahler replaced the original subtitle (“for soli, choir, and orchestra”) with a more evocative description: “for the tongues of angels, seekers of God, chastened hearts, and souls purified in the fire!”

As we commemorate the bicentennial of Bruckner’s birth, we pay tribute to his enduring musical legacy and profound spirituality. His music continues to inspire and uplift the human spirit, conveying a message of hope and faith for centuries to come.

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[1] Benedict XVI, Speech, October 22, 2011.

[2] Quoted in M. Cherlin, Varietes of Musical Irony, Cambridge University Press 2017, p. 99.

[3] Benedict XVI, ibidem.

Pictured: Anton Bruckner