Albert Becker is probably not a name many of us will have heard
a great deal about, which is not entirely surprising, as he spent
most of his life making
a living as a music teacher. He was born in Quedlinburg in 1834, and was active
as a teacher and composer in Berlin during the second half of the nineteenth
century. He became director of the Berlin Cathedral Choir in 1889, a post which
had once been held by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy and which was naturally steeped
in a rich liturgical tradition. It was at this point that he was provided the
opportunity to add his own voice to that of previous, frequently well-established
Psalm settings.
As a contemporary of Verdi, Bruckner, Liszt, and Brahms, Becker’s music
is deeply rooted in romanticism, but with these liturgical works he constantly
draws on baroque and classical models. His approach to text, for instance, is
linked with J.S. Bach in terms of clarity, and in the relationship of certain
types of text with dissonance and cadence. Many of the settings are fairly undemanding
listening, despite the gorgeous richness of their 8-part depths. The Psalm 130
setting, Aus
der Tiefe rufe ich, Herr, op. 62 is however a truly ambitious
span of music, filled with angst-filled sin and resolving redemption.
The
Liturgische Gesänge für das Kirchenjahr op. 46 are, as their
title indicates, intended for use in the liturgy. As a result they are shorter
works, often following the baroque chorale structure. While this often results
in homophonic writing or block harmonies, there is some counterpoint, such as
in the canonic
Denn des Herrn, which can be compared in technique to Palestrina.
Colourful word-description in the sighing diminished harmonies of the impressive
Fürwahr,
er trug unsre Krankheit are a litmus test of the kinds of things going on
in this music. It seems bland at first, but the more you discover the better
it gets.
The Berliner Domkantorei was founded after the building of the Berlin Wall in
1961. The choir came from singers of the former Church of the Reconciliation,
whose place of worship became stranded in the no man’s land between East
and West and ended up being demolished. Surviving its share of state repression
prior to the fall of the wall, the choir was able to develop into an ambitious
mixed ensemble which today performs primarily in
Berlin Cathedral. The choir has a warm and well disciplined sound, superbly articulated
and well intonated, and without any straggly voices spoiling the texture. They
don’t exhibit quite the exotic richness of expression in some more eastern
choirs, and neither do they quite have the cool purity of your English choristers,
but with their own character they fill Becker’s gently insistent idiom
with the kind of integrity which rewards repeated listening.
MDG’s SACD recording is as ever very fine indeed, though
a capella singing
is never likely to be a first choice for Hi-Fi demonstrations. The SA mode helps
with the spread of the voices in the not overly resonant acoustic used, but this
is more of an ambient quality than one which will blow your socks off. Albert
Becker’s choral work can be seen as something of a musical cul-de-sac,
as part of Berlin’s history which has worthy significance but little impact
on the world stage. This may or may not be the case, but the tradition represented
by Becker is one which has continued and is alive and well in church music of
the present day. Maria Weisse in her booklet note makes a plea for Becker’s “stylistic
diversity that should be honoured by the reincorporation of his songs into public
music culture.” This is something behind which I can stand wholeheartedly.
Becker’s musical language is expressive but unsentimental, and as a result
has a function in our time and all times, both humanist and devotional.
Dominy Clements