Faure's Requiem

A good friend of mine, Takeshi JA4IIJ, told me he would prefer Faure's requiem to Bach's St. Matthews Passion when I mentioned about the latter around Easter last month. St. Matthews Passion is a bit too heavy for him, as he said. I fully understood what he had meant. The latter depicts a story of Jesus from the pleasant story of pass over to his death on the cross in Golgotha. His ressurection, although it is not directely described in this Passion, assures of redemption of our sin, which is the main creed in Christianity. It sure is involved in the existence of ourselves. In that context, it could never be more serious than any other religious music.

On the other hand, Faure has described a departure from life on earth full of relieves and pacification. So beautiful and paradisiac world is unfolded in every piece of this requiem. Death seems to be a relief itself. Different from the other requiem, Dies irae, the day of wrath, itself is miniaturized in the end of Libera me. I often ask myself if Faure has yearned for death and subsequent world of paradise. This music may reflect such an idea he has had.

For a while in my twenties of age, I have spent a time when I admired this music. In the 1st movement of Introit et Kyrie, after several measures of introduction, a phrase of nostalgia starts in unison by the two parts of viola and the highest part of three parts of cello. I was most fascinated with that phrase which might work as a counterpoint to the phrase of tenor sung a few measures later. I sure would have liked to play it in an orchestra by myself. Dreaming of such a chance, I often listened to this music at the dorm of the medical university late at night. 

I have got a score of this music. The date I got it was written down on the 1st page as May 7th 1974. With methodical hand wiring. I have started very busy days with professional studies at the school those days. In a life of ups and downs as a student, I wonder what I was thinking when I got this score.

It is a pretty poor binding book. With rather thick papers of page, already sunburnt, it could be torn apart easily when being read repeatedly. I don't believe anyone would take it over after my death. I would read it until it wears out. 　

Almost half a century since I got it. As I often say, time flies so fast.