Recording: Helmuth Rilling, Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart/Bach-Collegium Stuttgart; Julia Hamari, alto; Aldo Baldin, tenor; Philippe Huttenlocher, bass
This through-composed Leipzig cantata shows Bach at the height of his compositional and interpretive powers, at times bumping against his own conventions (such as completely foregoing the use of da capo arias). He combines scripture, existing cantata poetry, and hymn verse to great thematic effect, with the narrative arc seamlessly constructed from Micah’s opening exhortation to the closing chorale. Every note and word flows inevitably following the E major chord that opens the work.
A melodic sequence that (in 1726) could only have been written by J.S.
Bach is the signature motif of the opening coro.
The motif is found in elaborated form in the great alto aria Wohl euch, ihr auserwählten Seelen in
BWV 34 (composed slightly later). A long instrumental introduction establishes
this theme, which will recur in all three sections of the choral material.
Three iterations of Es ist
dir gesagt are declaimed in simple canon before the sopranos launch into a
full-blown fugue at M.54. The melody descends through the voices until a
complex yet accessible contrapuntal exposition is achieved. The central section
of the movement communicates the heart of the verse, with a straight-forward homophonic
setting focused on a sustained halten
(to hold or to keep, referring to Gottes
Wort) that transitions to a fugal treatment of the words und Liebe üben, und demütig sein. The
last section of the chorus shortens the treatments of all previous material and
text, combining them into a unified and concise summary.
Although marked as cut time,
the alla breve is subject to
interpretation and doesn’t automatically equate to allegro or faster. The tempo variation in recordings of this
cantata varies widely – Rilling takes a very slow tempo – almost seeming to
ignore the indication. There is undeniable solidity, even majesty, in this
approach, but it is devoid of sparkle. Gardiner heads in the opposite direction
with very fast tempi, sometimes to the loss of expressiveness in the text. For
this movement, I enjoyed Suzuki’s interpretation which clearly structures the
vocal lines: Karl Richter is surprisingly similar in tempo, but the enforced detached
singing of his chorus produces excessive verticality.
Albert Schweitzer views
the “many repetitions” of Es ist dir
gesagt as “quite disconcerting… [it’s] incomprehensible why Bach should set
himself the impossible task of making a chorus of this verse”. However, more
recent commentators have appraised this movement differently. Klaus Hoffman in
his notes for Suzuki’s recording wonderfully describes the use of the fugue
theme to set the text und Liebe üben
as a feature which “astonishes and illuminates in equal measure”. Revisiting
this chorus after a long break, I remembered how much fun this music is to
sing, for all voices. Everyone gets a chance at the melody, and even when accompagnato the lines are anything but
boring.
The key words of Micah – Wort,
Liebe, Demut – are recalled in the tenor recitative. The text from an
unknown author centers on the concept that we have been told what we are to do (the
poet’s choice to describe this is Richtschnur
– an uncommon word, figuratively, a guiding principle). If we choose to ignore this,
we should not expect grace. The tenor aria continues this idea, and musically
has a high tessitura while also requiring blend and flexibility in the lower
voice. Although Aldo Baldin may sound too operatic for some tastes, he
negotiates the challenges, as does another large voice, the formidable Ernst Haefliger
in Richter’s account. The aria is dramatic and musically varied, and an
excellent recital piece for an advanced singer .A nice example of Bach’s attention
to detail begins in M.56, where a highly-chromatic passage is matched to scharfe – this line is a good extract for
teaching purposes.
Bach’s music for the Gospel reading provides an
extremely difficult challenge for a baritone con agilita, with fast melismatic passages alternating with plentiful
interval leaps. The aria works best within the cantata from a textual
standpoint. The performance by Philippe Huttenlocher is the main reason I chose
the Rilling recording for study – he sings with superb musicianship while never
failing to be a convincing vox Christi.
The
alto aria with flute obbligato is a beautifully
flowing movement (the marking of cantabile
in the public domain vocal score is the work of a later editor, but it is apt).
This lyricism is somewhat at odds with the text, particularly the ominous words
of the B section. The aria provides a
good phrasing exercise, the composer sets the text so that logical places are
provided, but breath must be taken quickly without disturbing the line. The
melisma M.19-23 is a valuable study for managing breath through a complicated
passage. Note that the aforementioned vocal score has many errors, notably M.56 - if you intend to perform this piece, invest in an up-to-date score).
While the text might not go over so well in a modern worship service, the
aria is the right length for a recital piece full of melody and giving the
possibility to demonstrate line and technique. The tempo on Rilling’s recording
is slow for my taste, challenging the singer’s support and breathing. While not
today’s vision for a Bach alto, the earth-mother sound of Hertha Töpper (Richter)
is effective with this text. She demonstrates great control handling a large
voice, lightening up on the moving passages and very clean in articulation, especially
given the prevailing style at the time of the recording (1959).
Atypically, the
alto recitative comes after the aria – but the long text perfectly connects the
aria with the concluding chorale. This very secco
recitative has a distinctly non-Bach feel – contrast its mundane treatment with
the sensitive setting in the tenor recitative. But if this was indeed written
by a student, it says much that Bach let the efforts of a mere mortal stand
without making alterations. Regardless of the hand that composed it, the last
two bars (M.11-12) contain an excellent exercise for German vowel sounds:
The closing chorale offers a logical conclusion to the ideas
presented in the previous movements. The melody for the hymn is traced to one
Ahasverus Fritsch, a jurist whose prolific legal writings (in Latin, of course)
languish in obscurity, but whose tune was given immortality by Bach.
The verse
that inspired this cantata has special meaning for me: after my father’s death,
I found among his effects a copy of Micah 6:8, which he had evidently carried
in his wallet for many years. Would he have enjoyed Bach's choral setting of this
favorite verse? Probably not without some instruction on Baroque music
appreciation. Like many people, he didn’t “get” Bach and preferred easy
listening supplemented by a few “classical” pieces (especially – remarkably
enough – the music of Richard Strauss). Still, I’m sorry that he never had the
opportunity to hear this cantata, in which the music so perfectly reflects and amplifies the
significance of those profound words.