G
ood. I'm glad we caught up, because it's very important to know not just when things arrived, but also in what context. Could it have been any of those things we've just mentioned that prompted Rossini to come out of musical hiding and spring his first work in years on to an unsuspecting and unready public? Who knows. He'd been working on the piece since 1831 which, in itself, may give the odd clue to what's been keeping him. Remember, this is the man who wrote The Barber of Seville in, some say, only thirteen days. For him, spending twelve years is nothing short of phenomenal, and would maybe hint at there being possibly a crisis of inspiration rather than just that he'd decided to sit back and simply enjoy his money and his cooking. You could give him the benefit of the doubt even here, though, especially considering that the two works he did produce following his self-imposed silence were both religious - this year's Stabat Mater and then, some twenty-two years after that, the Petite Messe Solonnelle. Could it be that he was devoting himself to a greater, somehow more valid, way of working that forced him to write and write and write, until a piece was perfect in the eyes of God? The fly in this argument's ointment is possibly The Sins of Old Age, a series of small and light pieces which Rossini dashed off in his later years, and which are no more than pleasant and amusing litde favours.
The Stabat Mater, though, is something different. It sets the words of the thirteenth-century Franciscan, Jacopone da Todi, describing Mary, die mother of Jesus, grieving at the foot of the cross. It was added to the Roman Catholic liturgy, officially, in 1727 and had been set by an illustrious line of composers over the years, before Rossini had a go: Josquin des Pres, Palestrina, the Scarlattis, Pergolesi, Haydn and Schubert. Maybe this long line of settings, too, added extra pressure on Rossini's need to leave a lasting impression on the Stabat Mater»
Its sad subject matter would continue to inspire beautiful music, long after Rossini too: Verdi, Dvorak, Szymanowski and Poulenc -many were attracted to this delicate little verse. By the time he wrote his version, Rossini was back living in Italy - not in his native Pesaro, but in Bologna. He travelled back to supervise the first performance of the Stabat Mater at the Salle Herz in Paris and, thankfully for him, it was immediately recognized as a late work of beauty and genius. Some have referred to it as a late opera, but this just seems to make light out of what is one of Rossini's chief virtues - his ability to show the human voice in its best light, even if that usually meant, as it would do for an opera composer, a dramatic light. And so Rossini brought out the drama in the lines of the Stabat Mater. I'd say the idea of a mother standing by the cross of her only son is drama enough to justify it. Nip along to hear it in concert, and judge for yourself. In the meantime, let me tell you who else is still around.