Throughout his career, Arthur Honegger consistently explored themes of a religious, philosophical, or moral nature in his works. This could be partially ascribed to his family background. Born and raised in France to a German-speaking Swiss family, Honegger was unique among 20th-century composers in uniting the French and German artistic approaches, which had historically been considered antithetical. For this reason alone, he always felt uncomfortable about being included in the French composer group “Les Six,” which rebelled against the serious, Germanic tradition that Honegger always held dear. 

Honegger composed a series of large-scale vocal works early in his career — including the oratorios King David and Joan of Arc at the Stake — but later turned increasingly to symphonic music, a genre which had never been at the center of his interests. Once he began composing his Third Symphony in the aftermath of World War II, he wrote an extended commentary to accompany it, the longest discussion he ever devoted to any of his works. In it, he made his intentions explicit to prevent any misunderstandings:

My intention in this work was to symbolize the reaction of modern man against the morass of barbarism, stupidity, suffering, machine-mindedness, and bureaucracy that has been besieging us for some years now. I have reproduced in musical terms the combat that is joined in man’s heart between yielding to the blind forces that enclose him and his instinct for happiness, his love of peace, his apprehension of a divine refuge. My symphony is, if you like, a drama played out between three characters, whether real or symbolic: misery, happiness, and man. These are everlasting themes. I have tried to give them new life. 

To express this universal struggle, Honegger chose liturgical mottos for each of the three movements. The first movement is Dies irae (“Day of wrath,” from the Requiem Mass), the second De profundis clamavi (“Out of the depths I cry to you,” from Psalm 130), and the third Dona nobis pacem (“Give us peace,” from the Ordinary of the Mass). All three movements have themes to which the respective Latin words could be sung, although the composer did not write them into the score. 

Honegger’s commentary continues: 

In the Dies irae, I was concerned with depicting human terror in the face of divine anger, with expressing the brutal, unchanging feelings of oppressed peoples, delivered to the whims of fate and seeking in vain to escape the cruel snares of destiny. … The violent themes crowd in on one another without leaving the listener a moment’s respite. … Then finally, at the end of the movement, a bird makes its appearance. ... 

De profundis clamavi: The sorrowful meditation of humankind abandoned by God; a meditation that is already a prayer. What tribulation this movement cost me! … [How] hard it is too, to put a prayer without hope into human mouths. … Toward the end of this movement, I have repeated the bird theme more obviously … the promise of peace … amid disaster. 

Dona nobis pacem: … There is nothing so stupid as barbarism unleashed on a civilization. What I wanted to express at the beginning of the third movement was precisely this increase in collective stupidity. … It’s the march of the robots against the bodies and souls of men. … But now a feeling of rebellion surfaces among the victims. The revolt takes shape and grows. Suddenly, an immense clamor … escapes from the lungs of the oppressed: Dona nobis pacem! And then, as though the cup of suffering were full … [the] clouds part and, amid the glory of the rising sun, for the last time the bird sings. In this way, the bird hovers over the symphony, just as once the dove hovered over the immensity of the waters. 

What are the musical means by which Honegger expressed this artistic vision of good versus evil? 

The Dies irae is evoked in the first movement. This performance instruction calls for the notes to be played marcato, or sharply accented. We hear march-like, angular rhythms and melodies with wide leaps and dissonant sonorities. But Honegger’s movement later takes a softer turn as he introduces the voice of happiness, expressed by long-breathed melodies played legato (with the notes smoothly connected to one another). These characteristics are strongest in the melody Honegger referred to as the “bird theme,” which appears at the very end of the movement, played by flutes, English horn, trombones, and tuba. 

The De profundis second movement, which was so hard for Honegger to write, is the longest of the three. It presents the third, and most important, character in the symphonic drama: after misfortune and happiness, it is humankind itself that speaks. The musical language is lyrical, similar to the first movement’s “bird theme,” and the numerous solos of wind instruments help create an atmosphere of intimacy. 

The third movement intones the Dona nobis pacem very differently from the way it traditionally appears. As the conclusion of the entire Mass, it is usually sung to a quiet, lyrical melody. But Honegger turns his version into a desperate cry, making it the center of the revolt against barbarism. Rather than praying for peace, humankind demands it, having suffered the terrors of war for far too long. The outcry is preceded by a group of themes that again embody the duality of misfortune and happiness. At the end, the tempo suddenly slows down to a solemn Adagio, the strings play a soothing chorale, and “for the last time the bird sings.” Impersonated in turn by the flute and piccolo, the bird “hovers” above the hymnlike music of the strings as the symphony ends in a mood of peaceful contemplation. 

— adapted from a note by Peter Laki 

Peter Laki is a musicologist and frequent lecturer on classical music. He is a visiting associate professor of music at Bard College.