Schütz’s youth Schütz was born into a family of prominent innkeepers in Köstritz. His education, of which music was a part, was thorough. He studied with the organist Heinrich Colander, among others, and progressed so rapidly that he attracted the attention of Moritz, Landgrave of Hessen-Kassel, who stayed overnight in the family inn in Weissenfels.

The city of Venice embodied this attraction better than any other. The legendary republic, an obligatory stop on any tour of Italy, had also inspired Albert Dürer, who, although a painter, had rapturously exclaimed a century earlier about the quality of St. Mark’s “church violinists” (Kirchengeiger).

A penchant for Italy was amplified in the young Sagittarius (the Latin form of “Schütz”) during his three years as Gabrieli’s student. During this period Schütz fully experienced Italy’s exhilarating sounds, colors and rhythms. The way in which motets for multiple choirs were staged to make optimal use of St. Mark’s architecture was particularly inspiring. (It should be noted that the basilica’s construction in the shape of a Greek cross, its two galleries facing one another and its cupolas creating mystical echoes—influenced the way in which music was performed there.)

It is curious that Schütz’s time in Italy did not result in the composition of sacred music, but in a secular work: his First Book of Madrigals for five voices. These works far surpass what one might have expected of a promising student, and resemble the virtuoso pieces of the best composers of the genre: Marenzio, Monteverdi, and others.

The return to Germany

Upon his death in 1612, Gabrieli left a ring symbolizing his “deep affection” for his “beloved disciple”. Schütz returned to Germany in early 1613, decided (following law studies in Leipzig) to make a definite career in music and accepted the post of second organist in Moritz’s Kapelle. His was an exceptional musical destiny. Blessed with great longevity, his musical activities continued uninterrupted for more than sixty years. This activity took place almost exclusively in the service of the Elector Johann Georg I of Saxony. During his temporary position with the Elector in 1614, Schütz so pleased his employer that he was appointed Kapellmeister in 1617, replacing Hans Leo Hassler, who had died in 1612. This appointment was made in spite of Moritz’s anxious efforts to retain Schütz’s services; Moritz was finally obliged to capitulate to the Elector of Saxony’s demands for political reasons.

In Dresden Schütz was at the helm of the second most important musical Kapelle in Germany, Bavaria occupying the premier position. His post was prestigious and included many responsibilities: chamber and church concerts, rehearsals, instrument upkeep and purchasing, and the auditioning of future singers and instrumentalists. Above all, Schütz was ceaselessly required to compose new works.

He was scrupulous in the accomplishment of his tasks; in exchange he was well-lodged and handsomely paid, at least until Saxony became involved in the Thirty Years War. From this point of view, these first years in Dresden were happier than any others, and brought him the greatest success as a composer. In 1617 he wrote a grand ballet on a mythological theme for the visit of the Emperor Matthias; this work has not survived. Ceremonies celebrating the centenary of the Reformation were held in the autumn of the same year and it was perhaps on this occasion that Schütz composed the Latin Magnificat, a striking example of festive music for multiple choirs.

The most important work from this period is the Psalmen Davids, published by Schütz in Dresden in 1619. This work displays unusual savoir-faire in terms of polychoral writing in the Venetian tradition. It may be that Schütz had written some of the Psalms in Venice between 1609 and 1613.

His Historia der Aufferstehung (History of the Resurrection) was written four years later and was the first oratorio of this type known in Germany. It contained elements from both the present and the past, calling for basso continuo ad libitum in the tradition of the Renaissance motet inherited from Lassus, but completely transforming it in terms of expressivity. The Evangelist, on the other hand, was called upon to perform a very personal interpretation of the texts, stemming from Schütz’s subjective interpretation of the prayers. The work is reminiscent of Schein’s fervent sacred collection in madrigal style Israelis Brünlein.

Schütz married Magdalena Wiedeck in 1619; the couple had two daughters, Anna Justina and Euphrosyne, before Magdalena’s early death in September, 1625. Schütz’s absorbing work for the court and chapel continued, and his pastoral tragicomedy Daphne, now lost, was performed in Hartenfels Castle in 1627 to celebrate the marriage of the Elector’s daughter. Could this work have been a first transposition into German of the new dramatico-lyrical art form that had originated in Italy at the beginning of the century, and which had developed into actual opera in Monteverdi’s Orfeo of 1607? This is possible, for Schütz alluded in 1633 to an earlier work written in recitative style (“in reddened still”) which had been composed in a manner and style still completely unknown in Germany (“in Deutschland noch ganz unbekannt...”).

Monteverdi’s influence

The Thirty Years War, accompanied by destruction and mourning, soon reached Saxony. The first to suffer from the demands of war were of course the musicians in the Elector’s Kapelle. Schütz wrote a moving letter in 1628 to the Prince, begging him to defend the cause of his employees, most of whom had not received their salaries for many months. But the letter had no effect, and the discouraged Schütz decided to leave his position for a time, as his services were no longer of use. Taking advantage of a promise made by the Elector after Daphne was performed, Schütz obtained permission to return to Venice to hone the “small talent that God had given [him]” and to meet the “subtile” Monteverdi, master of all that was new in music. While it cannot be authoritatively established that a meeting between the two composers took place, it is highly likely that it occured. Monteverdi cannot have acted as a teacher to Schütz; they must have exchanged views as fellow musicians on the modern concertante style used both on stage and in the religious context.

Schütz was happy to see his beloved Venice once again when he arrived there on November 1, 1628, though he noticed the changes in styles and mentalities that had taken place in less than twenty years. The expressive power of the parlando recitative style, in which music was at the service of the text, now took precedence over the religious polychoral works and polyphonic madrigals which had characterized his studies with Gabrieli. His First Book of Symphoniæ sacræ is the result of his second stay in Venice. Never again would Schütz write in such an Italianate and concertante style than in this collection, which unites maturity with youthfulness.

When he returned to Dresden at the end of 1629, Schütz discovered the Kapelle in dire straits and nearly reduced to complete unemployment as the result of the wartime military economy. Assuring a minimum salary for his musicians, and simply surviving, became a constant worry to him. Schütz’s amicus carissimus Johann Hermann Schein, a predecessor of Bach as Thomaskantor in Leipzig, died at this time and life at the court of the Elector was a shadow of what it had once been. Saxony was a battlefield where Protestant and Catholic armies from all over Europe clashed.

One century before the birth of Bach, the German composer Heinrich Schütz single-handedly ushered his country onto the European musical scene. Schütz was a pioneer and pre-eminent composer, a transitional figure linking the very different worlds of the Renaissance and the Baroque

The worst was yet to come for Schütz (the more than thirty musicians employed in the corpus musicum by the Elector in 1632 would be reduced seven years later to a mere twelve), but his faith allowed him to carry on and saved him in times of despair and doubt. He also gained comfort through composing intimate works which could be performed economically and with small forces. In the meanwhile, the marriage of the Crown Prince Christian of Denmark to the daughter of the Elector provided him with a welcome diversion. Schütz journeyed to Denmark, and Prince Christian, a great lover of music, kept the composer in his court from 1633 until May, 1635. Upon his departure, Schütz received many gifts, and the Prince expressed his wish that Schütz return to Denmark soon.

Kleine geistliche Concerte

When he returned to Dresden, Schütz discovered the same problems that had previously plagued him; the Kapell was hardly being used at all. However, he did write several masterpieces at this time. The first of these was the Musikalische Exequien (German Requiem), commissioned by his friend and patron Heinrich Posthumus as his own funeral music. The Kleine geistliche Concerte and the Second Book of Symphoniæ sacræ then appeared. These two collections occupy a central place in his output. Schütz wrote them out of inner necessity and included in them all his religious faith —a faith which had been profoundly shaken by the violence of the war.

Although it was written by a soul in pain, this music constantly expresses the hope that better days will come, and that divine aid will intervene. These works make use of modern monody whose model can be found in Monteverdi’s compositions. Schütz adapted this model to his own very personal ends of Lutheran oration, an essential element of his art. Between the publication of these two works, Schütz made another journey to Denmark (1637-1638), during which he was probably employed in the reorganisation of the Royal Chapel. As a consequence of the worries and privations resulting from the war, Schütz was bedridden with a serious illness in the winter of 1640-41. At this time he again begged the Elector to take concrete measures to save the Kapelle, which was “on the brink of demise”, and to provide money for recruiting new singers and musicians.

Schütz’s requests were not complied with, and he had no choice but to return to Denmark in response to an invitation from the reigning family. He was to remain in Denmark from 1642 to 1644 (apart from a brief return to Dresden), and was given the title of chief Kapellmeister. At the end of his final stay in that country, he offered a manuscript copy of his Second Book of Symphoniæ sacræ to the Crown Prince. In this volume, printed in Dresden in 1647, Latin texts were abandoned in favor of German ones; the writing techniques, though still characterised by modern monody, blended well with German traditions in a highly personalized synthesis.

War and peace

When Schütz returned definitively to Saxony, he was confronted with a difficult situation. The war had not ended, money was scarce, and the composer, now in his sixties, was obliged to fight on a daily basis to obtain a minimum for the musicians in his charge. The idea of a well-earned retirement appeared at this time in Schütz’s correspondence and soon became a refrain that was repeated more often than any other grievance. Despite his lassitude, however, he continued to assume his responsibilities with the same care as ever, and also managed to write several very inspired works. Around 1645 he returned to the genre of the Italian oratorio with Die sieben Worte Jesu Christi am Kreuz. This work was written from a modern perspective, as it were: it made use of the religious and dramatic style of the Roman school (represented by Luigi Rossi and Carissimi), while also looking back to the polyphonic evangelical tradition. In 1648 the Geistliche Chor-Musik, a monumental example of his contrapuntal technique, marked a return to the objective tradition of the Lutheran motet enlivened by elements Schütz had acquired during his lifetime.

1648 was also the year in which the nightmare of war ended. The signature of the Peace of Westphalia brought the longed-for end to the conflict in Germany, but money was still sorely lacking in the Elector’s court. What was more, the Crown Prince—despite the success of the Third Book of Symphoniæ sacræ in 1650—was abetting the success of a rival to Schütz by furthering the Dresden career of the Italian Bontempi. This was too much for Schütz, who declared in a rage that he would not accept orders from a man three times younger than he, and a castrato to boot! The Crown Prince did not react to this explosion, and Schütz was not freed from his duties until the death of Johann Georg in 1655.

At the beginning of 1656, Schütz sold his house in Dresden and retired to Weissenfels, where he received a generous pension and continued to hold the title of chief Kapellmeister. It was understood that he would still be available to preside over ceremonies for the new Elector two or three times a year.

Sixteen productive years

Schütz’s last sixteen years were remarkably productive, and he wrote some of his most important works during this period: the Zwölf geistliche Gesänge in 1657, the three Passions—St Luke, possibly composed as early as 1653, St John and St Matthew in 1666—and, in particular, the Weihnachtshistorie (Christmas Oratorio) in 1664. The Passions resulted from his unprecedented reflection on the subject and contained voluntarily archaic elements in the crowd choruses and the Evangelist’s narration (a sort of Gregorian chant, revamped in light of the recitative style), while the Weihnachtshistorie made sweeping changes in the German oratorio genre through its use of the parlando style and newly-liberated airs and ariosos.

Schütz, chief cantor and “father of German music”, died in Dresden on November 6, 1672 after writing his swan song, the German Magnificat, which glorified for the last time the spatial sonorities of the Venetian double choir. He was an outstanding witness to and a link between (due to his longevity) two musical periods. Born during the reign of great Renaissance polyphony as exemplified by Lassus and Palestrina, he died when Lully’s reign at the court of Louis XIV had already begun. The Baroque period, characterized by a rapid evolution of modes and styles, did not look kindly upon Schütz’s works after his death. But today these works’ greatness is incontestable, and he stands as one of the premier European musical authorities of his time. He was also a remarkable pedagogue whose pupils at the Saxony Kapell—a veritable musicians’ greenhouse—numbered some of the most important talents of the next generation: Christoph Bernand, C.C. Dedekind, Adam Krieger, the two Kittels, Hofkonz, Caspar Ziegler, etc. Through this direct inheritance, one can say without much risk that Schütz was in more than one way the true spiritual father of Johann Sebastian Bach, who was born thirteen years after his death.

Style and musical language

When compared to that of other composers, Schütz’s style may be described as one that revealed much about the man and the quality of his message. The evolution of his music was closely connected to the influences he successively received and assimilated, always in a highly personal way. During his long life he was confronted with choices which would always be significant in his development. Firstly, as a young Lutheran, he was overwhelmed by the polychoral works of Gabrieli in Venice. One volume illustrates this influence better than any other—the Psalmen Davids which display the power and glory of the St Mark school, as well as the interplay of timbres and of the dynamics inherent in the language of the concertante style.

Another pole of attraction was the tradition of Pietism, which caused a marvellous regeneration of a cappella writing in the Cantiones sacræ of 1625, and in which an ineluctable fervor inherited from Lassus, Palestrina and Victoria can be detected. The First Book of Symphoniæ sacræ of 1629 marked the aforementioned new expressive and aesthetic direction inspired by Monteverdi during Schütz’s second stay in Venice. If Schütz could be described as having sought opulent sonority as an end in itself, it must be stated that he equally always remained faithful to the deep-rooted feeling of community typical of the Lutheran tradition. The dominant climate of his work at this time was one of an eminently subjective and individual denomination. Here monody and Italianate lyric declamation triumphed; this is as true in the 1629 pieces as it is in the Kleine geistliche Concerte of 1636 and 1639. The only difference between the two groups, as Anna Amalie Albert has pointed out, is that the pieces in the Monteverdian tradition naturally favor dramatic passages. Although an indisputable resurgence of the German reformed tradition is to be seen in the Second Book of Symphoniæ sacræ (1647), it is also true that this period saw the development of a true ecumenical spirit, and that the series of works Schütz then produced contain a Catholic and Roman spirituality derived from his illustrious model.

The Geistliche Chor-Musik of 1648 marked a new stage of religious consciousness; this surely resulted in part from the shock of the tribulations caused by the Thirty Years War. This development coincided with Schütz’s return to his humanist, religious and cultural roots. The feeling of belonging to a homogenous collectivity provoked a turning inward in an innovator like Schütz; this occured in conformity with the demands of the Lutheran community. Such a reversal, accompanied by a return to the great contrapuntal traditions inherited from the 16th century (in the Geistliche Chor-Musik), did not imply a renunciation of his acquisition of a modern musical language or of the discoveries it had engendered: in monody as in his personal interpretation of the scriptures, Schütz had always been a pioneer, and had indicated new directions to his compatriots.

The composer confronted this modernity and submitted it from that time on to the demands of the larger community. The more or less individualistic cantor was overshadowed by the ecclesiastical spokesman, a representative of the community (and the communion) of believers who assembled to offer up praise and prayers. Seen from this perspective, the great works from the end of Schütz’s life appear all the more moving—these include the a cappella Passions as well as the 1664 Christmas Oratorio and the German Magnificat of 1671, his last work. Through them one can admire the aged master who put his artistic freedom (dearly purchased in earlier years) to use in the service of well-intentioned believers. In this respect Schütz the humanist, always in harmony with his century’s examples of German and Italian genius, deserves more than ever the title of musicus poeticus, which all his contemporaries used to describe him “before God, the Muses, and men”. In any event, Schütz was, as much as Bach, “one of the greatest spiritual composers the history of music has ever known”.