Bach Choir of Bethlehem

Brahms, opus 29 no. 2 "Schaffe in mir Gott"

Unfortunately for us today, virtually all of Brahms's choral music is overshadowed by Ein deutsches Requiem, so much so that people have tended to ignore many of his other choral works, or have discussed them as "preparation" for composing his Requiem. (The Alto Rhapsody and Liebeslieder Valzer are privileged by the concert halls and recording industry, but tend not to be discussed as frequently as the Requiem.) This is even more the case with his earlier choral works, including the two psalm settings that comprise Brahms's op. 29. (click here for a brief biography)

"Schaffe in mir, Gott," a setting of Psalm 51, is a 4-movement work set for 5 voices (SATBB). The work dates from 1864, just after Brahms took a strong interest in the works of Bach. The opening movement was written in 1856, and was sent to Brahms's friend, the violinist Joseph Joachim, for review (Joachim was apparently often a contrapuntal consultant for Brahms.) It is thoroughly Brahms, on one hand showing many characteristics of his mature style while on the other hand revealing Brahms's study of and affection for pieces of earlier eras.

Let us discuss first the latter idea: how this work reveals Brahms's devotion to early music.

Op. 29 is titled "Zwei Motetten" (two motets). The motet was a popular Renaissance genre, but by the Baroque era the genre's popularity had faded significantly -- the six motets of Bach being the best known and best quality examples. In the Classical era, the number of motets composed was even fewer. Since he consulted in Italy with a leading Palestrina scholar, studied numerous examples of Renaissance motets, and lead performances of these works with his Viennese choral group, it should be no surprise that the genre motet would be "revived" with Brahms.
The second movement is a wonderful example of a four-voice fugue. Brahms certainly knew fugues from his early piano study, and was known to have performed numerous fugues of Bach, considered the ultimate master of the fugue. Mozart and Beethoven (among others) wrote fugues in their works, though fugal expositions were more common. This means that composers would begin sections of music with the strictly imitative writing of a fugal exposition, but rather than carrying the imitative entrances further, they would often abandon the fugal at that point, change to a more homophonic texture, and move on. A complete fugue is a difficult venture, not to be trifled with, and Brahms has provided an outstanding example here. Below, you will see the subject of Brahms's fugue:

This fugue contains a myriad of contrapuntal devices, including stretto (overlapping statements of the fugue subject), inversion (upside-down presentations of the subject), augmentation (doubling of the rhythmic values), and so on. Bach himself couldn't have done better! I count at least 22 complete statements of the subject in 54 measures -- and I'm not guaranteeing I found them all!
The third movement of this motet is in 6/4, a compound duple meter, meaning that there are two primary beats in the measure, but that each beat subdivides into 3 [1 2 3 4 5 6]. I don't believe that 6/4 itself is significant -- thought it was a rare meter in eras prior to the 19^th century -- but the fact that it highlights a triple division is. No, I'm not going to imply that once again this is somehow connected to the Trinity. But having a section of a motet in a triple feel was characteristic of the works of Josquin Desprez (usually called simply "Josquin"), who is often considered the greatest of all Renaissance composers, and among the greatest composers of all time. Would Brahms have known his works? As a student of Renaissance music, certainly.
A second fugal movement occurs as the final movement, retaining the 6/4 meter, though changing to an allegro (the previous movement was an andante). Though this portion (as well as others here) has a single sharp in the key signature, and begins very clearly in G major, not long there after it moves C major -- the subdominant key. This same change of key occurs in the opening movement, which begins clearly in G major, but by the ninth measure, C major is inflected, then left, then returned to at the close of the movement. The move to the subdominant was a favorite devise of Bach, and it also makes me think of a giant "Amen," since the "amen" which closes most hymns is sung on the chords IV (subdominant) to I (tonic).
Finally, there's Brahms's use of canon, or strict imitation, in the first and third movements. "Canon" as an imitative device goes back to the Renaissance, though later composers -- including Mozart and Haydn -- are known to have wrote canons, sometimes as compositional exercises, sometimes as "real" compositions in their own right. (Haydn, in fact, wrote many canons, of various lengths, in English and in German.) The canon in the third movement is rather easy to spot, though you might be surprised as to the extent of it:

Look again: there are actually two different canons on the same melody here. First, the more obvious one occurs when the three women's voices exactly replicate, an octave higher, what the three men's voices had sung previously. Second, compare the bass II line with the tenors: it's a canon at the interval of a seventh!

In the first movement, the canon is actually hidden. Look at the soprano line. Now double all the rhythms (we call this "augmentation"), so that half notes become whole notes, quarters become halves, and so on. Now look at the bass line -- amazing, isn't it?

Listen to it...

Next, let's look for "typical" Brahms traits in this motet.

It is immensely "singable," and Brahms was so capable of writing beautiful lyric melodies, whether they be a part of his vocal, piano, or orchestral music. So much of the opening movement is based of either stepwise motion -- there's nothing easier to sing than that! -- or triadic figures. The same is true of the andante in 6/4
The motet is strongly tonal, although it is clearly a piece filled with chromatic harmonies. All the tonal movement is to closely-related keys (to C major, the subdominant; to D major, the dominant; to g minor, the parallel minor; to e minor, the relative minor). And even with the chromaticism, there is rarely little doubt as to the key at the moment.
There is, as referred to in B), a good deal of chromaticism in this motet. Especially in the second movement, the fugue in g minor, accidentals abound. Some of these are instrumental in establishing the minor mode; others are used precisely to "muddy the waters" as to the true modality of the moment -- will Brahms turn his music major, or is the chromaticism merely to further darken the mood? Where will we go next in our terrific tonal travels?
The various movements are based strongly on the development of motives, which was key to Brahms's style and something he certainly would have learned from the study of Bach and Beethoven. Here are some of the most important motives in the motet. Listen for them as you hear the piece in performance or on recording.
Especially in the opening canonic movement, Brahms uses pedal tones. This is mostly a result of the imitation Brahms writes here, but pedal tones are a harmonic device Brahms enjoys. (For a famous example, consider the opening of Brahms's Symphony No. 1 in c minor, where the bass instruments and tympani continue to pound the pitch C, seemingly ignoring all the melodic lines above.) There are longer, more prominent pedal tones in the fugal second movement -- no problem spotting them in performance. Listen to it...
In part a result of the pedal tones discussed in E) and the canon discussed in D) above, Brahms does employ some complex harmonies, typical of 19^th-century style, but certainly foreign to Bach's day. Among these are numerous seventh and several ninth chords; many secondary dominants and leading-tone chords, especially in the fugal second movement where the keys change frequently and quickly.
Brahms employs a good deal of modal mixture in the second movement (fugue). Here, though the key signature reads 2 flats (implying g minor), the first measure in the tenor part contains a B-natural (see example of the fugue subject above), aurally locking us into G major; but the B-flat in the second and third measures confuses us, as they imply g minor. The C-sharp in m. 4, followed immediately by C-natural confuse us further -- are we even still in the "g" tonal area? Both B-flat and B-natural appear in m. 5, and our ears are confused again. Thus, the tonal odyssey continues throughout this fugue. Listen to it...