BWV 16 - Herr Gott, dich loben wir

Week 16 (23 April – 28 April 2013)

Recording: Sigiswald Kuijken, La Petite Bande; Petra Noskaiová, alto; Jan Kobow, tenor; Jan van der Crabben, bass

We tend to think of New Year’s celebrations as a fairly modern innovation – the ball drop in Manhattan, the peach drop in Atlanta, revelry with fireworks and libations, followed by football games and soon-to-be discarded resolutions. Like everything else, these traditions evolved from older customs: for example, the Mummers Parade in Philadelphia, which is well over 100 years old, is based on the traditions that Northern European immigrants brought to that city. The practice of noisily and inebriatedly marching through the streets to chase away the bad spirits and ensure good fortune in the new year was an old custom in countries such as Germany, as were noisemakers, firecrackers, tasty beverages, and other family and communal festivities.

So we can safely assume that there were probably a few aching heads on 1 January 1726 when BWV 16 received its first performance, possibly even including that of the music director! The trumpet blast in M. 32 of Movement 3 would have shaken them all up – evidence that Bach had a healthy sense of humor!

This is a festive cantata with two very fun (and not so easy) choruses, the first of which uses the initial lines of the German Te Deum with the cantus firmus assigned to the soprano. In the older Catholic tradition, a plenary indulgence was granted to anyone who recited the Latin Te Deum in public on New Year’s Eve, and perhaps that influenced the choice of text in this cantata. A bass recitative links this short opening coro to a longer and more complex choral movement. The recitative is an extended message of thanks and optimism for the coming year: not a sermon but a celebration. With the query "should we not take up a new song and sing it vigorously?" the third movement begins attacca.

The ensuing chorus verges on being too boisterous to use in church - in its opening moments it's easy to imagine it being sung as tankards of ale are hoisted up to salute the New Year. The chorus has a call and response format, and the call portion could be done by either the bass section or by a soloist (a bass or, possibly, an alto!). In Parry's description: “…the bass solo which alternates its strains with passages of chorus seems to be urging them to ever-increasing joyfulness”. The writing calls for light and flexible singing in all parts, and provides good exercise in maintaining even 16th-note rhythm across an uneven terrain. The master obviously intended this to be celebratory and not tremendously serious, but it is seriously fun to sing!

John Eliot Gardiner writes in his liner notes, “Sobriety and order return with a solo for the alto”. Ain’t it the truth! It’s always up to us. The alto recitative gently recalls the listeners to worship, but nevertheless provides a joyous moment of reflection that demands the singer have absolute comprehension of the text, literally and colloquially.

The heavy-lifting is assigned to the unfortunate tenor, who after a night on the town, gets to come in to work, be blasted by trumpet fanfares, listen to the bass soloist have all the fun, and then sing a very calm, gracious, and difficult aria that is about 7 minutes long. This lovely and reflective aria is in A-B-A-C-B-A format; for a shorter solo, the A-B-A section could be used. But don’t overlook the perfect correspondence between the text and musical setting that drives the C-B order, as well as the wonderful poetry of the middle section.

This week’s recording was my first encounter with Sigismund Kuijken’s La Petite Bande, a Belgian early-music ensemble that has been in existence for several decades and has an extensive discography. Kuijken is a Baroque violinist; consequently the viola da gamba is used in the tenor aria. Originally an oboe da caccia was the obbligato instrument, and I prefer its more plangent sound (as demonstrated on John Eliot Gardiner’s recording). Kuijken also performs this piece with a vocal quartet only, which is his scholarly opinion of how some of the cantatas were actually performed. This piece certainly works that way, and it’s been interesting to compare the versions with solo voices and with chorus. The clarity of the various lines in the quartet performance is undeniable, but the hearty “ever-increasing joyfulness” is especially evident with the Monteverdi Choir, which successfully impersonates a rowdy crowd gathering around the glühwein – four voices can’t produce that effect.

This has been a very enjoyable week for both study and listening, and I may just plant some seeds to try to get all or part of this cantata presented to our local "audience".  In particular, the second chorus is exactly the right length for a great Christmas season anthem, although why wait for 2014? We can always use some optimism even if it's not New Year's Day. Lasst uns jauchzen! The words and music are those of a man who knew how to overcome adversity, seize the day, and never miss an opportunity to celebrate.