Haydn’s ‘Seven Last Words’

St Mary’s (Whitekirk) Church, near North Berwick 4/4/26

Haydn’s ‘Seven Last Words of Christ on the Cross’ (String Quartet Version)

The Kromatik Ensemble

Seven is a sacred number in Christianity, and from all four gospels were drawn seven recognised “Words”, or utterances, attributed to Christ upon the cross. The seventh composer in history commissioned to write music around the theme was Haydn. Each movement or “Word” was to be preceded by a sermon thereon.

 For the Good Friday premiere of the original orchestral version in 1786 (Haydn adapted it for quartet later), the interior of the Oratorio de la Santa Cueva in Cádiz was swathed in mourning, black drapery over windows and walls, alleviated by a single candelabrum. This evening of Holy Week at wee Whitekirk it was still daylight through the windows, but four seven-stemmed candelabra offered a warm glow.

 This did not however quite compensate for the church’s heating system being kaput. The historic kirk’s old stone walls and flags positively radiated Plutonic cold. Audience members scuttled back to their cars for rugs and dog-blankets. I became fixated on Oliver Cromwell’s horses, whom he infamously stabled in this building before the Battle of Dunbar. No lie-down for them that night on those soul-sucking floors. The Kromatik Ensemble’s string quartet, who had brought in hot-water-bottles for their rehearsals, now had little radiators hard by on trailing sockets, keeping their fingers alive.

 The music began and I forgot such woes. Surreal to experience playing of such international calibre here in this lovely yet humble village church. Even the surnames of the quartet read like a list from the EIF: Clare Hoffman, Mihaly Stefko, Mary Ward, Natasha Szervánsky-Cavaye. They play with precision and warm élan.

 Clare Hoffman’s first violin spoke with a haunting voice I had not heard before. Was it made from extraterrestrial wood? It was anguished, desolate and isolated. The other strings’ seamless group were reminiscent of the Greek chorus in conversation with the protagonist. It was so beautifully executed, yet so unusual for a quartet that I researched some more at home afterwards and found what I should already have known: that the melody line is indeed meant to simulate the very intonation of the words in Latin. They are even written beneath the musicians’ score. As a language lover, I should have loved to have the Latin text before me in the programme as I listened.

 The work is contemplative and unhurried throughout. It warrants a worshipful attention. It is harder with the quartet version than the original orchestral to distinguish between the sections. But at “Why hast thou forsaken me?” the sound becomes bigger, with warm lower string groans and stabbing strokes of the bow. Then for “I thirst” comes plucking from all around like great gouts of water. Is Jesus hallucinating? At all events, it sets apart the sheer physicality of this cry: bodily thirst.

 The candles glow more brightly now that the gloaming outside is starting.  Then descending like a giant’s steps down from a scaffold: “Con-sum-ma-tum est.” (It is finished). Again and again. These dolorous descents are interspersed with oddly jolly moments, presumably for a job well done.

 The Kromatik Ensemble has other members beyond this quartet. it is a delight that after the wide world several of them have settled around the Lothians and are keen to perform in hidden gems of places like this. Ideal for the Lammermuir Festival.