Yes, yes, & yes.   


I think you've very correctly identified the key to the work - its text.  I would imagine that if you have sincere faith, and probably a background in the Lutheran Church, the work would have significance which people like myself can't find in it?   

I regret that I am rather cynical about Brahms's readiness to write works which would appeal to the puritan zeal of his time - it may be a sensitive response to the Zeitgeist,  or it might possibly be akin to Mendelssohn's readiness to write Lutheran oratorios despite being Jewish.

This atheist finds it a wonderful thing, if usually too slowly and reverentially performed... (that and all that follows is IMO)

The soprano solo is one of the loveliest things in music, although finding a singer who can float that line is something of a challenge. Knowing that Brahms added it after the death of his mother is probably near-essential background. Understanding the German is probably essential; being a Lutheran or even a Christian would seem not to be since that would in theory rule me out. Still, something like Herr, lehre doch mich, dass ein Ende mit mir haben muss, und mein Leben ein Ziel hat, und ich davon muss - there's plenty there for an atheist to think about.

Having said that, I also don't find the big fugues to be exactly a highlight although I do get rather a lot from the other 'early music' aspects which Brahms refracts through his own language in it - particularly the echoes of Schütz, one of my very favourite composers.

This was one of the first pieces by Brahms I can say I truly appreciated, to the point of listening to it repeatedly for a while (this was ten or twelve years ago), and one of the reasons for this was the recording conducted by Philippe Herreweghe, which I think isn't at all too slow and has the wonderful Christiane Oelze as solo soprano.

I had always wanted to like the piece because I'd found Tom Phillips' series of paintings Ein deutsches Requiem: after Brahms so affecting, and they're still mixed up with my impressions of the music.

I don't really see that it has to be interpreted as a Christian piece at all, even though its texts come from that tradition. I think Brahms was trying to find a form for those ideas and sentiments which reflected his own feelings about them, so it's less a "German" requiem (as in Schütz) for me than a personal one.

I wouldn't say I feel it's overlong (certainly for a 19th century requiem) but I do feel the closing movement drags a bit,

I came very late to this work and only then because I had to. I was in the orchestra in a performance in St Chad's in Shrewsbury. I was fearing some plodding Brahms stodge but I have to say I enjoyed it.

Part of it was used to good effect as the signature tune to a BBC series about the rise and fall of the Nazis (hardly a day goes by without a programme on that subject on British television). I can't remember the name of it but it's the one that showed a picture of public support for the regime and which closed in on a small boy waving a flag.

I've just started to love Ein Deutsches Requiem very recently, largely due to this clip with Kathleen Battle which prompted me to buy a record (Klemperer/Philharmonia with Schwarzkopf/Fischer-Dieskau) (Here's clip of KB from earlier which demonstrates quite well how her interpretation improved with experience - and language coaching!)

I had heard the piece before but it had never really grabbed my attention. Recently, though, I think Brahms has started, finally, to make sense to me in quite a powerful way. And in the case of the Requiem it's nothing at all to do with the words or the fact that they're religious. It's just the incredible sensitivity and sense of moment in the music.

Don't worry, MrYorick, I thought I'd never like any of Brahms' major pieces, and then one day - !!!

Thanks for the recording recommendations, folks, will look into some of those - partic. Sinopoli and Herreweghe.

Thank you all for your comments! 


I agree.  I'm not religious at all, but I can identify with the text.  As Oliver points out, the quotes from the Scripture that reflect on the suffering and on the transitoriness of earthly existence can strike a chord with believer or non-believer alike.  I can even relate to the message of comfort and joy, the promise of eternal salvation.  I do not believe that we 'will be transformed' when we die, and that 'eternal joy will crown our heads', but the promise of it is an enormously powerful suggestion.  For the duration of the music, I delude myself that this will actually be so.  Only when Brahms moves on to the uncompromised and no-nonsense praising of God ("Herr, du bist würdig zu nehmen Preis und Ehre..."), I start to roll my eyes a bit. 


  Actually, the German text comes quite close to the Dutch protestant translation of the Bible, so despite its occasional oddness, I find it quite comprehensible.  There's a couple of things I can't quite work out, cfr. the end of this post.


I'm singing the bass part as well.  You're right, the deep notes are quite daunting! My teacher instructed me to sing them as light as possible, so that I won't loose my voice by the end of the performance.  Then again, I can enjoy the higher bits (being a light baritone). 


Thank you, Richard, for this link!

Regarding sopranos, so far I like Cheryl Studer with Abbado and the Berliner, and Arleen Augér with Celibidache and the Münchner.  Celibidache takes a very slow pace (9:30 in duration), so the challenge for the poor soprano is enormous, but Augér manages so beautifully - she sings so free and unforced.  Schwarzkopf is very, very peculiar, I don't know what to think of it.

The Herreweghe recording was the first one I could listen to from to start to finish without interruption, but mainly because it's so quick.  The clarity of tone of the choir is quite striking, but on the whole it didn't make much impression.  Oddly enough I prefer the Celibidache, despite its generous 80 minutes of music (60 minutes with Herreweghe).  It's very slow, but very intense, and warm and colourful.  He takes the time to let every phrase speak and develop...  There's that sense of moment to which Stuart refers.
But I will listen to the Herreweghe again.  And I will check out the Gardiner and Bruno Walter, they seem highly interesting.


When we embarked on the seventh movement in rehearsal, our conductor announced that all that had preceded was nothing, in comparison to what was to follow.  We've devoted three full rehearsals so far to this sole movement.  I'd never really listened to it properly (because I was tired of it after the sixth movement), but now I'm listening to separately.  It's very peaceful and conveys a true sense of rest.  I never noticed this before, but it's really striking that there's that frivolous triplet swirl on the word 'sterben'.  To die really is a joyous occasion for Brahms   ... (you can tell I'm not very religious)...  Oh, yes, I read that Brahms did not believe in God himself, which I find quite odd.  It's true that it's not a very orthodox Requiem, but surely he must have believed in God and Salvation to write music to these texts?

I have some very specific questions regarding the text.  In the third movement, the first couple of words the baritone sings... The English version of the Psalm text differs considerably from the German. 

"Herr, lehre doch mich, dass ein Ende mit mir haben muss" --- "Lord, make me to know mine end"
"und mein Leben ein Ziel hat" --- "and the measure of my days, what it is"
"und ich davon muss" --- "that I may know how frail I am"

 

The thing is: I'm not to sure about my own translation of the German text.  So, if someone could correct me if I'm wrong!!!  Here's mine:

"Herr, lehre doch mich, dass ein Ende mit mir haben muss" --- "Lord, do teach me, that there has to be an end to me"
"und mein Leben ein Ziel hat" --- "and that my life has a goal"
"und ich davon muss" --- "and that I have to depart" ??

A second thing that's troubling me: the translation of "Nun Herr, wes soll ich mich trösten?"  The various cd booklets give me: "And now, Lord, what wait I for?", which is quite a different thing!  The Dutch translation we use in the choir translates it as: "En dus, Heer, wat zou ik me troosten?", which conveys something else entirely: 'what's the use of seeking comfort?'  I always want to translate it as: 'Now, Lord, how shall I comfort myself?' - but I'm not sure!  I understand that 'was' signifies 'what', and 'wie' signifies 'how' - but this 'wes'-thing is troubling me!

Anyhow, many thanks!  Keep your comments coming!

Thank you very much, Chafing Dish!
'By what means can I comfort myself?' was my intuitive understanding of the phrase, but it's better to be sure!