Saturday, March 9, 2013

BWV 11 - Lobet Gott in seinen Reichen

Week 11 (12 March -  17 March 2013)
Recording: Ton Koopman, Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra and Choir; Sandrine Piau, soprano; Bogna Bartosz, alto; James Gilchrest, tenor; Klaus Mertens, baritone

The first question to clear up is if this composition referred to as the “Ascension Oratorio” (Oratorium Festo Ascensionis Christi as shown on the cover page of the manuscript in C.P.E. Bach’s writing) is a cantata or an oratorio; the second is if we should care about the distinction. BWV 11 is not much longer than a typical Leipzig cantata, has a chorale-based choral movement, and features only two solo arias (the standard allocation for a cantata). However, the score specifies a “role” – the Evangelist – that provides connective narration using several secco recitatives. The other recitatives, particularly the sequence that open the second part (the work was designed in two sections to bracket a sermon), have a distinct dramatic nature as voiced by supporting characters: the men of Galilee and (possibly) Mary Magdalene. The composition follows a narrative arc where all the movements advance the drama, from the opening chorus of praise to the final chorale where those left behind wonder impatiently when they will arrive before Christ in his glory.
So the piece fits the general description of an oratorio, and we should care about the distinction because in the scheme of vocal music in Bach’s time, this transitional form bridged the sacred cantata form to the secular (and decidedly profane) form of opera. While the fullest realization of the cantatas requires singers who can both sing the notes and communicate the text, the oratorios make an additional requirement on the singer to assume a theatrical role. Bach’s series of oratorios is as close as he came to writing an opera, and in perhaps the greatest of them – the St. Matthew Passion – he demonstrates that he most definitely could have. Although what would have been the point, having already set the “greatest story ever told”?
The brilliant opening chorus is an excellent standalone selection for the Easter season – or any time that brass can be utilized (it does really need the trumpets). For us in the U.S., it could benefit from a 21st-century English translation, and maybe that’s a side project for me. It surely is fun to sing though, and speaking of projects if someone is looking for a nice exercise in arranging, this chorus would be great fodder for a SATB/organ version (with a good English translation!). I’ll sign up to buy sixty copies!
The alto aria is famously the springboard from which the great Agnus Dei in the B minor Mass was developed. I expected more structural similarity: however, it boils down to shared introductory instrumental material and the main 4-measure theme of Ach, bleibe doch being adapted in a stream-lined form for the qui tollis section of the later aria. The BWV 11 aria does not require the sustained phrasing of the Agnus Dei, nor the interpretive authority that is required to turn the final corner of the Mass and lead into the Dona nobis pacem. In this sense, Ach, bleibe doch is an excellent training piece, but it may seem overly long and repetitive to the casual listener. In order to "sell" it, you have to create that oratorio character and figure out how to make all those requests of bleibe doch meaningful. When C. Hubert Parry describes this as “the pathetic solo for alto” – he is using the word in the sense of it’s parent word, pathos, evoking compassion, not with the less favorable connotation of our modern usage.
Hearing both arias together would be instructive. One interesting approach might be to use the arias to book-end a recital, with Ach, bleibe doch at the beginning. The tempo of the piece does not necessarily need to be similar to Agnus Dei – the arias serve different functions in their respective works, and in fact, since Ach, bleibe doch is a plea for Christ to remain with his followers on earth, it has more urgency at a slightly faster tempo.
The middle voices on Koopman’s recording do not fare as well as on some of his other cantata performances. For a female alto, moving the pitch down to Baroque standard creates a difficult tessitura in the aria – it then requires a true contralto. A fine performance for study purposes is Catherine Patriasz on Herreweghe's version – nearly flawless singing, although at a very slow tempo.
The soprano aria is a lovely selection for worship or recital for a high soprano (or down a half-step for those not so high sopranos and altos). Parry notes the absence of a bass voice in the continuo, saying the aria “seems to hover in the air and subtly to suggest kinship with the serenity of a cloudless sky.”
The text of the oratorio may be by the author known as Picander, the pseudonym of Leipzig attorney Christian Friedrich Henrici, who is known to have written many cantata texts for Bach starting about 1725. Very little is known about Henrici – if not for his association with Bach he would in all likelihood be forgotten, a fact noted by Bach’s first great biographer, Philipp Spitta, who writes that authoring sacred texts was “utterly foreign to [Henrici’s] nature” (Henrici was writing satires to supplement his meager income at the time he was asked to produce some verses for Bach). The poet himself wrote in the forward to his collected cantata verses of 1728-29 that “I flatter myself that the lack of poetic charm may be compensated for by the loveliness of the music of our incomparable Kapellmeister Bach”.
But back to that question – cantata or oratorio? It shouldn’t affect your enjoyment of this lovely work in either case, but we do know what the master thought, and he left his description scrawled on the first page of the score:


Since I will be on vacation next week, BWV 12 will have to wait! Listening to recordings on the plane is one thing, but I have been trying to practice the arias and choral parts, as that is where the real insights generally occur. That rehearsal time and space won't be available as I travel. But in talking about this project, I have compared it to a vast buffet of the most delectable pastries imaginable – row after row of chocolate torte, raspberry napoleon, spice cake with cream cheese frosting, etc. The only way to experience it without inducing sugar shock is to limit yourself to a few nibbles on each slice. Even then, an occasional break is required, and here will be the first one.
However, there will definitely be some Bach-related musings when I return: I have a ticket for a performance of the St. John Passion, and there may be a couple other opportunities for encountering the master as I sojourn. You never know where he will show up!

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