Ludwig van B. spent the final years of his life composing 7 things – his 5 late string quartets (Well, 5 ¼, but that's for another post.), the epic Symphony No. 9, and the equally epic Mass, Missa Solemnis. The Maestro is said to have lifted up the String Quartet Opus 131 and Missa Solemnis as his most perfect compositions. The quartets and symphony are treasured by audiences, critics, and performers alike and programmed frequently, so whatever happened to the Mass?
Before answering that question, I'll describe the Mass for you and its historical context. Early 19th century Europe was a cesspool of government-sponsored violence. The Napoleonic Wars, wars of imperial conquest, and struggles against historic empires like the Austrians and Ottoman were already laying the foundations for the World Wars of the 20th century. Beethoven's dream of peaceful and popular self-determination seemed to be moving further out of reach.
Beethoven was raised a Roman Catholic, but was non-practicing as an adult even among the heavily Catholic society of his Vienna home. Given my knowledge of him, I surmise the Roman Catholic hierarchy and Beethoven's humanist leanings weren't meshing well.
In any case, it is pretty clear he never meant for Missa Solemnis to be performed in a church. He scored it for a very full orchestra, 4 soloists, and full chorus, roughly 140-200+ musicians. Even if he had it performed in Vienna's glorious St. Stephen's cathedral, either the stained glass would have blown out or notes would still be reverberating today, 190+ years later. The full debut of Missa Solemnis was May 7, 1824, in Vienna's Kaertnertor theatre, programmed along with the debut of the Symphony No. 9. If I had a time machine this concert would be one of my first stops.
Beethoven didn't fool around with the structure of the Roman Catholic Mass at all, so the major sections are:

1. Kyrie
2. Gloria
3. Credo
4. Sanctus
5. Agnus Dei

and it is composed in D major.
The Kyrie – Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison (Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy) is described as traditional, but I find it unlikely that Beethoven chose the ABA (theme 1, theme 2, theme 1) out of laziness or lack of creativity. That ABA structure exactly reflects the text. The B section contains some lovely counterpoint, where each group has its own melodic line that fits with the others. Counterpoint is an older Baroque form, so Maestro roots the Mass in a deep history. This also shows Beethoven as a student, and master, of composition history.
If the Kyrie is a nod to history, Gloria is a joyful, exuberant take that begins by schooling all of us on the possibilities of composing in ¾ time, or three beats per measure. It switches to 4 beats per measure after the introduction to better match the text, then, at In gloria Dei patri, Beethoven launches into a brilliant, epic, and difficult fugue. If a performer gets lost in here there is no return.
Credo – 'I believe' – starts in the key of B-flat, moves to D, then F, and back to B-flat, a musical triad reflecting the Christian creed of the Trinity. At Et incarnatus est – along with the soloists, Beethoven composes a dancing solo for the flute, the instrument of hope, proclaiming the joy and vital need for God to come and become one of us. Another fugue, faster and even more difficult, concludes Credo (and the life of the world to come) signifying the swift and total transformation from earthly life to eternal life.
Sanctus is Maestro's most well-developed and beautiful treatment of the ongoing connection between the kingdoms of heaven and earth. In it, a solo violin breaks into the music in its highest register, then floats downward in a stunning depiction of the Holy Spirit coming to earth as if gliding like a dove. The conclusion of Sanctus is, in my opinion, the most beautiful music Beethoven ever wrote and it frankly defies any description I could attempt. Just listen.
And then, the Agnus Dei. Ah, the Agnus Dei. First, a plea: Lamb of God, have mercy on us. Then comes the prayer, Lamb of God, grant us peace. The prayer is suddenly, and very unexpectedly, interrupted by the drums of war. This sacred Mass is profaned by the sound of human violence, and “grant us peace” evolves from prayer, to cry, even to shriek, before ending as a plea. Agnus Dei is raw emotion and deeply, deeply, personal, and very nearly Beethoven's musical Last Will and Testament.
So why don't we hear this brilliant music more? Why can we readily identify the “Ode to Joy” but not Kyrie, Credo, or Agnus Dei?
Yes, Missa Solemnis is expensive to program given the large orchestra, soloists, and chorus, but the 9th Symphony requires the same and it is one of the most frequently-performed classical works. Yes, it is difficult, one of the most demanding in all of choral literature. Some recordings I have heard cheat and simplify parts, but world-class performers don't avoid challenges. They earn their reputation that way.
My opinion? It's that Agnus Dei. After an hour of high spirituality delivered through utterly brilliant and transcendent music, Beethoven leaves us dirtied by human reality, leaves us with questions instead of answers.
This reality, these questions, are uncomfortable, but they are Truth. We may not want to hear it, but we live in a world that is tensioned to the extreme between the sacred and the profane, between peace and violence, between love and hate. Beethoven confronts us with this uncomfortable reality in a stunning display of art's highest purpose: to show us ourselves and push us to be better.

Let's get this over with at the top. Alfie Boe is the best musical theatre tenor. I could wax on about breath control, pitch accuracy, diction, and tone, but, whatever. Only one word is needed: Perfection.
I realize I'm late in writing this, for which I can only plead a lack of words to describe the experience of hearing Boe sing. But, for those readers who have not yet heard of him, do yourself a favor and get his music.
My introduction to Boe was several years ago watching the Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert in London's O2 stadium. I say “watching”, but in truth I didn't see much through the tears. I am undoubtably and unapologetically a sap when it comes to that musical anyway, which is a brilliant interpretation of my favorite book, but Boe's rendering of Jean Valjean ripped into my soul in a way no other performer has. There is an effortless and unaffected passion and power to his performance that infuses every part of your with a transcendent beauty.
And to think this flame of beauty almost was almost never given light. Alfie Boe's backstory is nearly compelling as his talent. The youngest of 9 children in a decidedly blue-collar family, he didn't grow up with vocal training or performance opportunity. As a young man, Boe worked, not at polishing his voice, but polishing cars at Britain's failing auto maker TVR. He would entertain other workers with singing while on the job and one day a customer heard him and recommended he audition in London. The rest is a fairy tale, meteoric rise leading to his selection to perform Valjean in the 25th Anniversary concert. I am staggered thinking of the few short years between working unskilled labor to standing alone on stage before 200,000 people, singing one of theatre's most beloved roles. Boe says he never has identified that customer.
This Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert is worth a spin not just for Alfie Boe. Samantha Barks does a wonderful Eponine, and Lea Solanga and Norm Lewis are superb as Fantine and Javert. The production values are outstanding and the Encore of “Bring Him Home” with four tenors singing Valjean, including the indomitable Colm Wilkinson, is alone worth the ticket. The lone blemish on this disc is Nick Jonas as Marius in what has to be the producers' pandering to attract a younger audience. While Jonas isn't Bieber-bad, he is hopelessly outclassed in this company. His straining and struggling is in sharp contrast to Boe's ease.
I urge everyone to take a listen to Alfie Boe snippets at http://www.broadwaybox.com/daily-scoop/20-awesome-videos-of-broadways-new-jean-valjean-alfie-boe/ and, if you are as smitten with his voice as I am, get the Blu-Ray of the Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert. Even if you have other recordings of this musical theatre spectacular.

From the iconic cover art from the late H.R. Geiger (designer of the Aliens’ xenomorphs) to the last notes of Karn Evil 9 this is a great disc to own.

Sue me for being a prog-rock enthusiast, but what would you expect from someone who loves classical, jazz and rock music? Besides, prog rock never went away, its torch being carried in this millennium by groups such as The Mars Volta, Dream Theater and Muse.

Emerson, Lake and Palmer was rock’s first supergroup, packing 200,000 spectators into stadiums in the 70s performing a mix of classical-inspired virtuoso instrumental epics, ballads, R+B and even Honky Tonk. Their remarkable musicianship, range and spectacular stage shows set them apart from other prog rock legends like The Moody Blues, Pink Floyd  and Yes. Keith Emerson is rock’s best keyboardist, Carl Palmer arguably rock’s best percussionist (bring it on, John Bohnam lemmings), and Greg Lake is, well, he plays guitars and sometimes sings.

This SACD is remastered into an incredibly clean 5.1 channel surround sound mix that effectively separates sonic embellishments from melody and harmony. This, along with the high resolution of SACD, leads to a spectacularly clear and involving experience. To those like me who bought earlier ELP titles in DVD-Audio and were disappointed with the apparent lack of effort in mastering, this is a totally different beast. I gave away the CD included in the set; I don’t ever want to hear it in low-rez format again.

To go along with my post on getting back to quality, high-fidelity listening, here are my favorite rock recordings on Super Audio CD, in no particular order: 

1. Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon
2. The Who Who's Next
3. Eric Clapton Slowhand
4. Derek and the Dominos Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs
5. The Who Quadrophenia
6. Chicago Chicago II
7. Elton John Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
8. Michael Jackson Thriller
9. David Bowie The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spider Woman from Mars
10. Blue Man Group Audio

The Symphony emerged from the Baroque period as a grand form of composition suited for wealthy courts that could gather and afford to pay a large number and variety of musicians.  It was developed and standardized during the classical period, particularly with Mozart, who wrote more than 40 symphonies, and Hayden, who wrote more than 100.  Ludwig van Beethovenwas a student of Haydn’s and his early symphonies reflect his teacher's style.

A Classical Symphony consists of 4 movements- fast, slow, dance (usually waltz or minuet tempo) and fast.  The performance time of a Symphony was normally 20 to 35 minutes.  Variations of tempo within a movement are not allowed, with the possible exception of a slow introduction to the first movement.  This introduction served to establish the key but never contained a musical theme.

Each movement was in sonata form, which consists of three main sections: an exposition, a development, and a recapitulation. The exposition presents two themes, elaborated and contrasted in a development where the themes are broken up and woven through different rhythms and keys and then resolved in a recapitulation where the themes are heard again.  The main theme for the fourth movement was a variation of the theme from one of the other three movements, normally the first.

The first thing you may have noticed about the CD is that the Ninth Symphony is the only piece on a disc.  This Symphony is easily twice as long as Haydn – era symphonies. There is a persistent legend that the recording capacity of the CD (74 minutes) is based on a desire by the engineers to fit Beethoven's Ninth on one disc.

Beethoven was a fervent believer in Enlightenment ideals of replacing the ruling class structures and rules with liberty for and equality of all people. Reason, invention and creativity were valued over birth station, and free will connected us and liberated all to find joy in a life path of each person’s choosing rather than birthright. He had a very emotional stake in these ideals, having been twice rejected for  marriage by women of nobility because of his common birth. He never did marry.

The piece begins with an introduction reminiscent of players tuning their instruments. Was Beethoven trying to annoy the nobility, who liked to gather in their box seats just as the orchestra was tuning so they can be last into the hall and be seen by everyone?  In the Ninth Symphony, the nobility would have been scuffling for their seats while the music had already started.

At the end of the Introduction there is a dissonance. This is created by two complete chords being played at the same time. Neither of the two chords are actually in the key of the piece, so Beethoven uses the Introduction to confuse the key rather than establish it.

The first notes of the Development section are the same as the “tuning notes” we heard in the introduction. Since the rules say you can only develop a theme, the “Introduction” was actually the first theme of the movement. Beethoven broke three rules of composition in the first eight measures.

This funeral march is Beethoven’s way of saying the old ways of composition are done and buried. It is preceded by a slowing of tempo – not allowed within a movement.

2nd Movement Wait – isn’t this supposed to be the slow movement? It is actually faster than the first movement. The theme takes the form of a fugue, something that was only rarely done before. In the middle of the fugue theme, the timpani continues the melodic line. This is the first instance of a percussion instrument being used for melody and not just accent.

3rd Movement Finally, a slow movement. Try counting out beats per measure. Stumped? Beethoven groups phrases into varying lengths, disguising the written meter of four beats per measure. He alternates these groupings freely and even sometimes has different instruments playing different groupings at the same time.

This is incredibly complex, yet the overall effect is peaceful – the music simply flows, growing and ebbing organically like the meanderings of a stream. Exposition, development and recapitulation happen in no particular order like creative eddies merging into the stream’s current. Here Beethoven shows us that music is about what is inside us, the freedom and limitless possibility emanating from the voice of God within your soul, not about rules and structures. This is genius most profound and sublime; art that changed my soul and changed how all of Western culture approached music.

The horn solo is written for the fourth horn (last chair) player and lasts for many minutes. Beethoven’s Ninth remains the only piece I know of where the last chair is traditionally asked by the conductor to stand and be recognized with applause. Beethoven lavishly uplifts and honors the musical voice of even the lowest. More in my book Shells.

The brass flourish underscores Beethoven’s pleasure with his new musical language and announces even more musical revolution to come.

The 4th Movement is really a symphony within the symphony. It has four major sections with an Introduction. It jars the listener out of the serenity of the 3rd movement with a massive set of dissonant layered chords. This is revolution after all, and revolution is never comfortable. Don’t bother even trying to count tempo changes. There are at least 10 in the first few minutes, and some sections are simply labeled “Free”.  Beethoven extends the ideals of liberty and free will even to the conductors and performers of his own work.

The first three “Movements” break the same rules that Beethoven broke earlier in this symphony. In the Introduction, Beethoven teasingly inserts segments of the themes from each of the first three movements, making us wonder which of the themes he will use as a basis for the major theme of the fourth movement. Each time, though, the cellos and basses interrupt the theme, acting as Beethoven’s inner voice saying “I am not going back to a traditional form” and seemingly searching for a new direction.

The cellos and basses suggest a brand-new theme, the familiar “Ode to Joy”, that spreads through the orchestra and chorus like wildfire. Chorus? This is the first time soloists and chorus have been included in a symphony. Unlike the oratorio form, where there was a hierarchy of importance – soloists at the top, then chorus, with the orchestra in a supporting role – here each is an equal partner. At times soloists, chorus and orchestra perform individual musical themes; even the soloists sing ever more divergent lines, again demonstrating the result of individuals acting freely and harmoniously. This is the joy of equality and freedom for all destroying the shackles of tyranny.

It is easy for us to listen to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony with our 21st century ears and values and say “that was lovely”.  But doing this trivializes the reality that you have just heard the echo of a massive tectonic shift in Western history.

Art was liberated from rules and form, and from the control of royalty and gifted to the people. Without this momentous work, first performed in a subscription concert for the general public, the grand gift of symphonic composition may have collapsed along with the ruling families of Europe. Never again would a symphony be written for or debuted in a royal court. Art became of, by and for the people, Beethoven became the Thomas Jefferson of culture and the Ninth art’s declaration of independence.

Even the ideas of what constituted civil society in an age of commoners freed from royal rule took form as the Ninth’s popularity gave rise to the ideal of the “gebildete”, or cultured, person. One can argue that, without the Ninth, the environment of creative freedom that gave us Mahler, Strauss, Stravinsky, van Gogh, Picasso, Rodin, and Martha Graham would not have existed. One can further argue that the cultured society necessary to appreciate their art and make them popular would not have existed.

And, nearly 200 years after its premiere, the 9th’s messages of unity, hope and freedom from tyranny keep it relevant today. Leonard Bernstein conducted an historic performance at Berlin’s Brandenburg gate to celebrate the reunification of Germany after the collapse of communism and protesters in Tiananmen Square played recordings of it. Daniel Barenboim led Israeli and Palestinian musicians in a West Bank performance, various groups have played it in Havana and many commemorations of the 9/11 tragedy have featured it.

Not bad for some 74 minutes of sound penned by a man who couldn’t hear. And maybe that’s Beethoven’s ultimate revolution – shattering the illusion of personal limitations based on external perceptions in favor of a world of infinite possibility because of who we are on the inside.