• Cecilia Society: participating institution, chorus, orch
• APT, Antonín: director of institute, conductor

Advance news of this concert appeared in Prague German-language newspapers on 3/1/1861 in an almost identical text which noted the date, venue, time, programme and participating soloists.

The unsigned Dalibor 10/1/1861 review, which did not specify the date of this concert, noted that the solo vocalists comprised Miss Johanna Brennerová, Mrs Josefa Schmidt-Procházková, Albert Eilers and F. Fektér. This text remarked that Rossini’s work possessed strongly secular qualities, quoting a description by the contemporary French critic Jules Janin of the work as ‘Le joli stabat’, and adding that ‘even in his Stabat Mater, Rossini flattered the ears of the Italians’. By way of example, the reviewer cited the tenth number ‘which, as a certain critic said, resembles more the witty joke of a gifted man of the world, than the ardent expression of devout, contrite thought.’ Despite such secularity, the Dalibor critic identified the composition’s strengths. The report referred to ‘the magnificent score’ drawing attention to the ‘characteristic and grand’ choruses, singling out as examples the ‘Eja mater’ and the finale. Similar sentiments concerning the aesthetic content of the work were expressed in the review, signed ‘Zvř’, published a day earlier in Národní listy 9/1/1861. The possibility exists that the author of this review, J.L. Zvonař, may have also written the subsequent Dalibor report, given that during the early 1860s he was engaged as a music critic to both Dalibor and Národní listy. The two reviews by these periodicals differed only in terms of detail of content. Thus in Národní listy Zvonař noted that the effect of the composition upon the audience was ‘feeble.’ Comment about the public reception of the work was absent from the Dalibor review. Národní listy also reported that the ‘performance, up until some oversights in the orchestra, was successful. Among the soloists Miss Brennerová evoked the greatest applause with her high C. Mr Apt conducted with customary circumspection and fortitude.’

Each of the detailed reviews of this event appearing in the German-language newspapers contained much comment upon what was perceived to be the strongly secular stylistic content of Rossini’s composition. Reaction to the work varied from source to source. The Der Tagesbote 8/1/1861 text, signed ‘-h.’, was cool in its reception to the work; no more pointed nor more blatant example of the degeneration of Italian music could be found than that which had taken place within musica sacra and was specifically demonstrated by Rossini’s Stabat mater. The critic noted that although only 150 years separated Pergolesi and Rossini the character of their church music output was far apart. Rossini depicted the mourning of the Mother of God under the Cross ‘with all the spangled-devices of theatrical depiction and with all the flippancy of luxuriant melodies... Rossini is the man of the raucous worldly market, who in the serious halls of religious art can only provide the theatre-framework of the impresario. ... Mushy [weichlichen]’ expression and ‘profane’ opera effects were thought to pervade the work, even where the composer was thought ‘to lean on older models’ such as in the fifth number the chorus in F major, or in the Quartet no.9. Comment was made about the appearance of a motive from the opera Lucretia Borgia in the Duet in E major, no.3, and of the A-flat minor aria with its ‘over-sugared and over-peppered’ instrumentation. A secular style of writing was also though perceptible in the solo-voice writing. The omission of the trills [a Italian opera stylisic device typical of the early- and middle-nineteenth century] from the vocal parts at the close of the solo Quartet was advocated. Of the soloists Miss Brenner sang ‘beautifully and effectively, particularly in the brazenly operatic C major aria with chorus’. The performance of the Cecilia Society choir was ‘proficient’ and the orchestra received qualified critical praise.

The Prager Morgenpost 10/1/1861 critic, signed ‘**’, was a little more liberal in outlook. After noting that the Society had chosen to perform this ‘very interesting work’, the correspondent gave brief details of its history and background. At the first performance in 1833 at the funeral of its dedicatee, the Archdeacon of St Philip’s Cathedral in Madrid, the work apparently caused a sensation. It was regarded as a novelty in the output of the composer, and having attracted the interest of publishers in France and Germany had been issued in poor editions that deviated from the original. However, the Cecilia Society was said to be performing the original version in 10 numbers. Of the work itself, the piece was thought by the critic to be entirely characteristic of its creator, containing many typical, brilliant traits of the creative style of this ‘musical maitre de plaisir’. Occasionally, there ‘sometimes flashed forth profound thought’ yet the style soon returned to the typical language of the composer. In parts ‘he indulges in a great polyphonic style, as in the fugue ‘in sempiterna secula’, and shows much theoretical knowledge, but even here the voice-leading is not particularly rigorous.’ The first chorus in G minor was commended for its ‘worthy polyphony’ and considered to be ‘one of the best numbers’. The following tenor aria in A-flat with its ‘full of verve yet entirely profane main theme and a la marcia accompaniment’ was deemed worthy only of the typical character of the theatre opera-hero. In similar style was the duet in E major which notably failed to express suitable sentiment at the words ‘quis est homo’. The critic praised the ‘nobly-thought’ alto cavatina ‘Fac ut potem Christi mortem’, the ‘brilliant’ soprano ‘Inflammatus et accensus’ and the quartet ‘Quando corpus morietur’. To conclude, the text noted that thanks were due to the Cecilia Society for the performance of he work, even though it was not considered to be great work and that in some circles it was regarded only as a curiosity and appreciated only out of respect for the famous name of the composer. The performance ‘was very good’, the soloists were rewarded with applause and the director Apt was [re-]called. The concert was noted to have been numerously attended.

A substantial review, signed ‘!!’, was published by Prager Zeitung 9/1/1861: ‘In its second concert on Sunday the Cäcilien-Verein brought to us for the first time, with the Stabat mater of Rossini that has caused such a stir, a new aesthetic and cultural-historical study – a study that is as well suited to casting light on the shadow-ridden biography and nature of that native of Pesaro as it is to the maintenance of musica sacra in Italy itself. This Stabat mater is the abiding image, the quintessence of how church music, as it has been in the years of ethical decadence in the lofty houses of God, these awe-inspiring monuments to the piety of the old Italians, is now to be found. The chasteness of the religious art, as we know it from the traditions of classical musicians from Palestrina, Scarlatti, Pergolesi and Cemarosa up to Zingarelli and of the old Italian painters Lucca Signorelli, Michel Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael up to Titian was finally so violently overcome by the ever more stormily forward-thrusting elements of profane carnality to such an extent that in Italy the boundary between sacred and secular music would be found only with difficulty; in painting only the accessories would offer clues to [enable a distinction]. In the Rossini Stabat mater we now see the fully-formed expression of this [profanation]. This most brilliant of the new Italian masters knew well how far he should have to go in his creative endeavour to make sufficient allowance for the realist-sensual world view of his contemporaries that has penetrated to the very sanctity of the Church. Rossini, the trendsetter of Italian opera, has, in turning to musica sacra, also become speculative [i.e. working secular musical style into a sacred work for populist effect], and as a result works less with the real essence [of the work] than with outward effects. This time he did not draw his public closer to him but rather lost credibility within its circle of ideas. In fact the entire operatic phraseology of which he, for the most part, was the inventor, and which underwent so much repetition among his successors Bellini, Donizetti and up to Verdi, we find in large quantities again here. Yes, we would even hesitate to make room for the tenor aria in A flat, though it sound so mellifluous to our ears, or the cavatina for alto, racy as it also sounds, in any of the more serious operas such as we have from, say, Gluck or Wagner. It matters little whether the Stabat mater be considered an early work by the great composer or was in fact composed for the Parisians in 1841, where it was first heard; but it is always revealing to the gallant psychologist, who knows how to manipulate the weaknesses of his vain listeners with tact. Beautiful, and most spiritual in composition are the ensemble numbers, in particular the introduction in G minor, in which the opening movement, promising much, reveals the end; then the superb finale, a free fugue in which the opening movement already mentioned appears as an interesting intermezzo. In the latter alone Rossini wished to show that the strict style was not so foreign to him as is usually accused of him, and that he is capable of honouring his predecessors. The part writing, exemplary in every respect, conciliates even the most rigorous of critics is the part writing.

Taking into account the preparations over several weeks of this work, intended as it was for the first concert, the performance was well thought through and mostly of good quality. Of the soloists Miss Brenner, Mrs Schmidt-Procházka, Mr Fektér and Mr Eilers, all of whom were rewarded with applause, Miss Brenner received a particular, spontaneous storm of applause for the intensity of her voice. It is also an exceptional feat, only conceivable for Miss Brenner, that she could hold out with a sonorous top C over a choir of 80 strong boys’ voices and 60 men. The concert was very well attended.’

Perhapsthe most subtly sarcastic and sceptic among contemporary reviews of Rossini’s work was that by ‘V.’ in the German-language newspaper Bohemia 8/1/1861. The correspondent wrote that ‘It is an almost comical stroke of ironic coincidence that Rossini’s Stabat mater could not be given, as originally planned, in the [Cecilia] Society’s first concert, but not until the day before yesterday, the day of Epiphany, the official start of Carnival. The ten numbers of the celebrated score contain much that far more suggests the witty caprice of a rake and a genius than it does the ardent outpourings of a devout, remorseful soul striving to reveal his innermost being in sound. When twenty years ago the news broke that the divine master, whom that little Pesaro [Rossini’s birthplace] has to thank for his great significance for world history, was said to have become suddenly pious, grown tired of the worldly trinkets of the opera, to have strewn his head with ashes and turned himself into a sublime musical ascetic, all Europe was astounded at this unimagined conversion of that easy-going, amiable darling of the graces; but it also feasted on the ecstatic expectations of what might come of it. One could not be grateful enough to Banquier Aguado of Paris, for whom the dear Gioachino is said to have compiled this remarkable work while on a journey of penitence in Spain, for having given his musical friend the inspiration... The Corypheans of the then still full-blooded art of beautiful singing unfolded all their forces in order to serve the divino maestro as selected interpreters and it needs no explanation that for a man who was used to seeing not only dilettantes but also the professional musical world astounded before him, his debut on hallowed ground was in part what could be called a pyramidal success. Jules Janin called the work „Le joli stabat“; others „charmant“, while the aristocratic amateurs of both the pretty and the strong sexes said emphatically, „c’est ravissant!“. In all the leading salons, ladies and gentlemen from the most exclusive circles of societé sang, skilfully and with fine voices, the attractive passages in thirds of the duet, the august and yet so delightful-sounding cantilenas of the cavatinas, the embellishments and brilliant cadenzas that have been so utterly transformed into church style, while in other places only a mouth familiar with the most sentimental love duets and humorous-gracious popular songs was conducive to awakening the superb effects of Rossini’s polyphony in the imitatively and contrapuntally à jour-conceived ensembles... [from] the score and lending lively notes and tone even to the exorbitant closing fugue. In short, everyone sought everywhere to honour the work, and especially in the high society of Paris [by] the splendid Rubini [Giovanni Battista Rubini – famous Italian tenor of the early nineteenth century], the nightingale Persiani [Guiseppe Persiani – Italian singer and composer]. Thus the glamour and fame of the modern Holy Week prayer [the Stabat Mater] spread outwards from the trendsetting centre of higher and highest taste to all radii of the artistic and cultural world. Sadly, there is also in this word a rather broad and important patch of ground on which the critic, who cares nothing for holiness, eats his Sauerkraut and smokes his tobacco. It is easy to understand that such raw manners lead to completely different perspectives on life and art than those that predominate in the velvet armchairs of the cosseted, gold-lined salons, and that in rooms open to every draught of air the tender regards for certain unerring prestige must suffer an ominous modification; and it is little wonder that it was precisely in Germany, so strong in theoretical negation, where the first protests were heard against the meditation, contrition and religious fervour characteristically embodied in the music by Rossini. Across the Rhine and behind the Alps, the world is indeed boarded up and ensnared with so-called traditions, dogmatically held as sacred, which are barred to the impulses of modern church ethics and of Gallic world domination. In matters of art such prejudices must be ascribed to a certain unwillingness to cheer unconditionally a music that carries the entire operatic phraseology over into a church hymn and even, albeit with great skill as would be expected from a master, is yet scantily enough coated by the mantle of religious ardour. But let us put aside all disrespect and facetiousness concerning the master’s genius! [Let us] liken all the mellifluous melodies of the Stabat also to those devotional beauties that kneel veiled before the altar of the Madonna, but everything that surrounds them let us examine with worldly eyes, through the veil artistically draped around her face; - it seems not infrequently as though for self-mortification the composer drank not the pure water from the chalice of atoning devotion but rather from the goblet of worldly Lebenslust the fiery, sweet lacrimae of Christ; - indeed, to utter bluntly and crudely, this non-cholance in the comprehending of the object, which does not for a moment lose sight of the singers of the stage and their public, and which cannot let go of the conventions of the operatic form, borders even on such frivolity as may be censured without rigid orthodoxy and prudery: anyhow, the work falls so far short, and thus is unworthy of its subject, that it bears the mark of its author, who is admired even for his bad habits and the unmindfulness of his output. The public recognised, in perceptively correct measure, the value of the performance and applauded particularly those moments in the score that combine the characteristic relationship of emphasis to content with the best merits of the composer. This applies in the first instance to the unaccompanied chorus and recitative „eja mater fons amoris“ (Nr.5, D minor and F major) and then to the quartet „quando corpus morietur“ (Nr.9, G minor). That the finale, despite possible misgivings, acted drastically on the purity of the fugue, can be explained easily from the big effect of these numbers. Otherwise the applause was directed in the main to the soloists, among whom the ladies Brenner and Prochaska-Schmied [Schmidt-Procházková] won the lion’s share. The cavatina for alto in E major was particularly applauded, but even more stormy was the reception for the soprano aria in C, „inflammatus“. The remaining two solo voices were given by Messrs Fektér and Eilers. The chorus held out bravely and the performance was in general skilful and capable of allowing the many effects of the work to be shown in a favourable light.’

Interestingly, even though doubts about the fundamental style and aesthetic of Rossini’s Stabat mater were expressed among reporting Prague periodicals, it is notable that none of these sources expressed any criticism of the Cecilia Society for electing to perform the work. This undoubtedly reflects upon contemporary recognition of this musical body for its typically characteristically liberal, positive and ambitious repertoire.