BWV 26 - Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig

Week 26 (9 July– 14 July 2013)

Recording: Helmuth Rilling, Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart/Bach-Collegium Stuttgart; Arleen Auger, soprano; Doris Soffel, alto; Adalbert Kraus, tenor; Philippe Huttenlocher, bass

Although two of the original “rules” of the cantata-a-week project were to not work ahead and to never look back once finished, I have abandoned the latter entirely (it’s too enjoyable hanging out with old friends), and with BWV 26 the former. Several weeks ago, while working on BWV 25, I put in the CD of Helmuth Rilling’s recording, which contains several cantatas in BWV order. I was multi-tasking and just let the CD play on after the conclusion of BWV 25. Immediately, the opening chorus of BWV 26 startled me into full attention – what exactly was going on in this fantastic music? The movement was over before I could realize what had happened, and an extremely florid, punishing tenor aria had started. No surprise there, but what was the context? I decided to make a compromise and listen again, but not do anything more until it was actually time to work the cantata.

Then came the 4^th of July, a trip to New York City, and a week off from Bach. So I had to wait to dive into the world of Ach, wie flüchtig. The wait was generously rewarded.

Something about the style of the words recalled a comment I previously made about the unknown poet “working overtime”. Looking back in the notes, that observation was made on BWV 5, and revisiting that text side by side with BWV 26, I suspect that if you found the author of one, you would also find the author of the other. It’s no coincidence that both cantatas were apparently composed in the same period (mid-late 1724). Both start from a textually solid chorale verse and expand its theme in a unified narrative that employs more sophisticated language and richer metaphor than the average cantata text. The content and sequence of the recitatives and arias are carefully thought out and executed. Structurally there are certain similarities: for example, both texts include tenor and bass arias which use the same rhyme scheme.

In response to this strong textual foundation, Bach produced a pearl without flaw. Within its context, this piece is a perfect work of art. I’m realizing more and more that this can be said of many of the cantatas, but it is especially true in those cases where a superior text was mated with evocative music.

The opening chorus that first caught my attention depicts the brevity and insignificance of man’s earthly existence in multiple ways: first, the movement itself is brief, clocking in at around 2.5 minutes. The rapidly ascending and descending instrumental passages, occasionally moving in opposition, create an evanescent and swirling quality, ein Nebel bald enstehet/Und auch wieder bald vergehet – an effect which can be enhanced through managing dynamics. The marcato choral passages in the three lower voices are short, jagged phrases set against the cantus firmus in the soprano. However, the phrase Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig takes some not-so-brief practice for non-German speakers – exaggerating the naturally stressed syllables helps.

Some Bach arias have little melismas included for word-painting and rhythmic variety. The tenor aria So schnell ein rauschend Wasser schiesst is a melisma with a little aria surrounding it. So you think you can sing con agilita? Maybe you will think again after looking at this. The facility required to sing this music is not something everyone can develop, no matter how much you practice. Among the pitfalls are extended passages meant to be in rhythmic unison with the flute and/or violin – extremely difficult to accomplish and extremely obvious when it doesn’t happen. Then there are the ascending passages that need to gracefully top out in a high G or A that does not become a yelp. And finally, getting it right one time is not enough, so the dal segno repeats all of the really hard stuff again. It falls in the category of “many are called but few are chosen”, and the chosen ones simply do it naturally.

Having first heard this cantata performed by Rilling, I stayed with that recording for this week, and with Adalbert Kraus he has perhaps the finest recorded performance of this aria. It just all flows out, in perfect time and apparently without effort, at a tempo that definitely bolsters the watery imagery. Bach has used the voice instrumentally but also expressively. As with what could be considered a sister aria in BWV 5, the fluidity of the vocal line illustrates rapidly flowing waters, in the present case of water accelerating as it approaches the edge of a waterfall where it will lose its continuity (i.e., identity), separating into droplets. This aria is a terrific exercise: not many will come anywhere near Kraus’ innate ability, but you will be considerably improved (and humbled) by trying.

The alto recitative begins with a characteristic melisma on Freude. What I have been attempting to do here is accelerate through the first three-quarters of the phrase and then put the brakes on at the end as joy turns to sadness – I’m still working on that and will be for…awhile. The recitative can be broken down into the three “inevitability” statements, the acknowledgment of the inexorable workings of time, and the finality of the grave that annihilates (vernichtet) even the greatest of human endeavors. This is a challenging recitative, serving a keystone function in the cantata, and requiring careful consideration of the text: for this reason it is also a good piece to practice from memory.

The bass aria, (like its BWV 5 counterpart, Verstumme, Höllenheer), uses repetition to emphasize a single word, Verführung (seduction), but this is hardly the only point the composer makes. Once again the difference in the raw materials available to Bach when given such colorful words as törichten, wallenden, zerschmettert translates into an atmospheric and memorable aria. For an interesting illustration of how tempo illuminates music, compare the Richter and Rilling performances of this aria. Richter’s faster tempo produces an urgent, ominous quality from the outset; however, the tempo should in part be dictated by the speed at which the soloist feels comfortable with the melismatic passages, and Theo Adam has trouble staying on top (or ahead) of the freight train. The tempo chosen by Rilling and his soloist, Philippe Huttenlocher, is slower but the interpretation is more subtle: from a vertical, thoroughly “Lutheran” B section, the soloist emerges in the C section with a more dramatic interpretation, encouraged by the rauschen und reissen of the continuo. The B’ recapitulation further intensifies the warning of the text, and with a long descending figure on törichten neatly ties the text together before the instrumental dal segno.

The soprano recitative is one that may not have been written by Bach – I suspect that if there had been time to get to it, the master would have done better by a phrase like entgeht dem Staub und Asche nicht. The entire passage, describing the ultimate destruction by death of those who fancy themselves kings on earth, would seem to require at least as much elaboration as used in the alto recitative; however, this is just a standard recitative – perhaps the only slight blemish in the pearl. The closing chorale provides contrast to the opening movement, especially if a majestically slow tempo is used. The cantata began with the frenetic exposition of human inconsequence; here it ends with the grounded reminder that the only path away from nothingness is through faith in eternal life through God.

Unlike most of the previous cantatas, BWV 26 does not lend itself to extracting arias or choral movements – it is such a cohesive whole that the components by themselves can’t reach true fulfillment without their framework, without the inherent logic of what came before and what follows. And like its subject, the cantata passes ever so swiftly: at only fifteen minutes in length you wish there somehow could be more. But that's the point - what there is, is just right. Add anything else and the sphericity is destroyed. So add this small but perfect pearl to the string, tie the knot, and open the next oyster.