BWV 29 - Wir danken dir, Gott, wir danken dir

Week 29 (30 July – 4 August 2013)

Recording: Philippe Herreweghe, Collegium Vocale Gent; Deborah York, soprano; Ingeborg Danz, alto; Mark Padmore, tenor; Peter Kooy, bass

In Johann Sebastian Bach’s Leipzig, separation of church and state was an unknown concept. The annual installation of the town council, or Ratswechsel (literally “council change”), was held in the Nikolaikirche and included liturgically-based music and a sermon. The prosperous merchants and accomplished professionals who comprised the council were a tightly-knit group – vacant seats on the council were offered to prospects by existing members, not filled by public vote – and the yearly change was a rotation rather than a completely new set of governors. A festive and dignified occasion, one can assume that this event required a step up in musical effect from the normal Sunday service, and not surprisingly, Bach rose to the occasion with a piece that contains not just one but two of his “greatest hits”. By the time of BWV 29 (1731), Bach had considerable experience producing this type of music – it’s unknown how many cantatas he composed specifically for a Ratswechsel service, but he had written BWV 71 for this purpose while working in Mühlhausen (1708). Several other extant Leipzig cantatas also owe their origins to this requirement, although given that BWV 29 was subsequently repeated several times it can be assumed that Bach was not expected to produce a new work every year for the council seating.

 

 

View of Nikolaikirche in early 1900's

Even if you don’t think you know this cantata – you do. The sinfonia that opens the work is one of the most famous and frequently-performed Bach tunes, and is a reworking of a movement from an earlier (1720) violin partita (No. 3 in E Major, BWV 1006). As used in the cantata, the sinfonia is scored for organ (taking the violin solo part), strings and brass – the latter adding particularly festive colors. I was lucky enough to participate recently in a service where a world-class organist performed the solo organ version, and let’s just say if you want to introduce someone to Bach – or “classical” music for that matter – it is as good an entry point as you will find. Although not quite in the same league as a live experience, there’s a fine video available online of Dutch organist Willem van Twillert playing the sinfonia on the massive Baroque instrument in the Bovenkerk.

 

The other “greatest hit” of BWV 29 is the choral movement, which, as with BWV 28’s main chorus, is highly influenced by stile antico principles. If the music sounds familiar, it’s because the master subsequently used it almost without alteration in the Mass in b minor: it is the basis for the Gratias and Dona nobis pacem movements. In BWV 29, the words are taken from the German rendering of Psalm 75, but they express the same meaning as the Latin text in the Gratias. The long melismas on the crucial words gloriam  and dona in the Mass develop a weightier, more imposing texture; here, the focal points in shorter florid passages are verkündigen (to proclaim) and Wunder. Other than that, there’s not much difference in the choral parts. The instrumental scoring is likewise consistent between the cantata and the mass.

 

The structure of the cantata suggests that its sequence may have been interspersed with text as well as possibly framing the sermon. The chorus is a tough act to follow: in the Mass, the equivalent movement provides the concluding summation of the entire work. Here, the emphatic final chord would seem to be the cue for someone extremely important to stand up and make a speech. The tenor da capo aria would not seem to flow naturally out of this grandeur. It is a very pleasant and buoyant creation in ABA form, but not a showstopper. Rather long as written, the A section could be extracted to provide a very enjoyable solo (for both singer and audience). This abbreviated version also avoids a high B…just in case you want to.

 

An utilitarian bass secco recitative serves to remind those in attendance from whom all blessings flow. Here again, I don’t feel continuity to the following aria, but suspect perhaps a chorale or hymn occurred, allowing a transition to the sermon. This is all hypothetical, but it’s fun to speculate!

 

Perhaps influenced by needing to set the lovely and powerful word erbarmen, Bach chose for the soprano aria a sicilienne structure reminiscent of Erbarme dich in the St. Matthew Passion (1727). Here the choice of tempo keeps the aria formal and correct, mitigating any tendency for the dotted rhythms to become too dancelike. The aria is quite beautiful and difficult, and would be excellent in church or on a recital program. The section beginning segne die, so uns regieren needn’t be a deterrent – these days I regularly hear those sentiments expressed in pastoral prayers.

 

An unusual device employed in this cantata is the repeat of a solo vocal movement – another indicator the cantata may have been performed in two or more sections. Following the soprano aria and a short alto recitative that features a choral (congregational?) interjection, the alto performs the A section of Halleluja, Stärk und Macht, now in D major and with organ as the obbligato instrument. This is a great aria to use on a recital for the right voice – in the printed key it is already low-lying; in Baroque pitch it requires an authentic contralto (or male alto). Still, it’s a good workout and enjoyable training material for learning to traverse the low regions lightly and joyously, in keeping with the occasion for which it was written.

 

To wrap up the event, the closing chorale is longer and more imposing than in the typical church cantata, again using the brass to heighten the celebratory effect.

 

I thought I should hear that violin partita and went looking for a recording, of which there are many fine ones. But I discovered one needn’t be limited by the original instrument! Mendelssohn arranged the work for violin and piano (yes…it’s a Romantic piano part underlying the Baroque fiddle line…); Rachmaninov adapted it for piano solo. The selection has been recorded using Celtic harp; harp and organ; guitar; marimba; and perhaps most famously for listeners of my generation, the Moog synthesizer version in the 1968 album Switched-On Bach by Wendy Carlos.

 

What would the master have made of all these mutations? As both a keyboardist and string player, he had already decided the music worked equally well in both realms. The permanent assignment of a tune to any one instrument was foreign to how the musical profession worked in his time: if his violin soloist didn’t show up, he couldn’t just call up the orchestra manager and hire a replacement. The solo got assigned elsewhere, to whatever instrumentalist could play it. Likewise, substitutions often had to be made to enable amateur musicians to experience a piece of music; hence the art of arranging, and the evolution of the plethora of choices above.

 

The choice I made was a version with violoncello piccolo which, in another unexpected gift bestowed by this project, led me to a wonderful recording by the great Dutch baroque cellist Anner Bylsma. An interview with Bylsma from 1998 (http://www.cello.org/newsletter/articles/bylsma.htm) completely enthralled me – although targeted to string players, there is much of interest here for all musicians: words of wisdom from someone who obviously takes the music, but not himself, tremendously seriously. For example, this response when asked about various forms of “authenticity” in performing Bach:

 

There is a much better word than “authentic.” It is the word “true.” Somebody plays something and it rings true. It is meant honestly, comes from the heart, and gives pleasure. It's more of a feeling that you must be playing the way the piece was meant to be played. But this feeling never stays with you, since it is very ephemeral.

 

The cantatas are a demanding world – to study, to listen to, and to perform. To achieve what Bylsma describes, to find the way they were meant to be sung and played, can be emotionally and mentally fatiguing due to the amount of information that needs to be processed, and it can take a long, long time to get there. As the past months have taught me, they are also immensely rewarding because of this. But if you want to take a break from climbing that mountain, and lower your blood pressure a few points: pour a glass of merlot, turn down the lights, put on Bylsma’s extremely acoustically-present recording and enter into the essence of Bach. The critical and analytical functions can be put on hold – with playing this inhabited by intellect and experience, there is no point in second-guessing.