BWV 34 - O ewiges Feuer, o Ursprung der Liebe

Week 34 (17 September – 28 December 2013)

Recording: Rudolf Lutz, Vokalensemble/Instrumentalensemble der Schola Seconda Pratica; Margot Oitzinger, alto; Jens Weber, tenor; Fabrice Hayoz, bass

Yes, that was a mighty long week. But I have managed at last to escape the eternal fire-fighting that is my life to write about Bach’s eternal fires, both sacred and secular. The cantata is certainly not at fault for my tardiness: it’s a lovely work, and I have spent many hours in the company of both the full recording as well as multiple versions of the very special alto aria that, as the linch-pin of the piece, “helps to convey a special color and unity to the whole,” as Sir Hubert Parry describes.

The choral movements and aria derive from an earlier Leipzig wedding cantata, BWV 34a, which bears the same title since it uses the identical opening lines. The work, which does not survive in complete score, must have been composed for a notable marriage, perhaps for a member of the clergy as suggested by the recitative text Dir, dessen Fleiss in Gottes Hause wacht. Certainly the prominence of brass and percussion, as well as full chorus and four soloists, indicates that the event was one with “no expense spared”.

BWV 34 was subsequently assembled to provide music for another festive occasion, Pentecost, or the “birthday of the church”. Recent research cited in the liner notes for Suzuki’s recording indicates that the shorter, sacred version was first performed in 1727, with subsequent use as late as 1740, from which time the surviving manuscripts date.

The brilliant opening chorus evokes divine flames of virtuous love and faith – the ardor of the faithful – first with an instrumental prelude of rising and falling surges of strings and brass, then with the fugal 4-part choral setting depicting both the immensity of eternity and the dancing fire. Note the little syncopation on entzünde (ignite) that leads off the B section – not one detail is ever glossed over. This is an immensely rewarding choral movement, although the da segno form makes it long for use as an anthem, the A section stands on its own – for a nimble and energetic choir that can survive the melismatic flames. Lutz’s performance for the Bach-Stiftung sparkles, with the vocal parts clearly delineated in a warm acoustic.

In adapting his earlier work for Pentecost, Bach was provided (either by his own hand or by an unknown writer) a text focusing on the soul becoming the selected dwelling place of God. This idea of being chosen is emphasized through use of the word erwählen and its derivatives in the recitatives and aria. Note the repetitions in the alto aria (five in the A section alone) of auserwählten (literally, picked out from a larger group).

The magnificent Wohl euch, ihr auserwählten Seelen is surely one of the most beautiful alto arias in the cantatas. Bach reused the music from the earlier BWV 34a; however, in that work the text references the Biblical love story of Jacob and Rachel. John Eliot Gardiner suggests this music “may have had deeper personal significance to Bach than we can fathom today”, but he sagely withholds any further inferences. The meltingly tender melody and the manner in which the singer directly addresses the audience (congregation) bespeak sincere affection. The instrumental setting using two flutes and strings envelops the singer in warmth, and the vocal line must be equally buoyant and ethereal, particularly in the first section of the aria.

In the printed key (A major), the aria is appropriate for lighter altos and lower sopranos who can easily sing a B4 without any chest tone. In order to achieve the necessary ease and fluidity, there has first to be technical mastery, and this aria offers an abundance of challenges that develop and improve vocal technique. One difficult aspect for a female alto is the constant crossing of the lower and middle breaks, which can make achieving a blended sound difficult. Several excellent exercises can be extracted from the aria to facilitate this process, e.g. M. 20-22.

Although rather long (about 6 minutes) for use as a church service selection, the aria’s A-B-A’ structure permits using the last section in that capacity. It’s such a beautiful aria that it should be shared with your listeners even if that must be in an abbreviated form. But by reverting to the original text, what a perfect piece for a wedding (if anyone out there is still asking for Bach)! The original BWV 34a version opened the second portion of the cantata (Post copulationem), and apparently used only violin and continuo for accompaniment, making for a very natural adaptation for voice and organ. The music is available in the Breitkopf and Härtel edition of 1894 (on IMSLP).

Margot Oitzinger’s performance in BWV 34 (also available as a video clip on YouTube) is a wonderful example of a fresh, warm sound with naturally minimal vibrato that nevertheless maintains exceptional intonation. But do not neglect the recording by Janet Baker, which shows how a larger, weightier voice, when managed well, can produce the effortless quality needed in this aria.

A bass recitative summons the adagio choral declaration Friede über Israel, from which flows out the closing chorus of thanks. In an extraordinary passage resolving the brief contrapuntal opening, all four voices repeat dankt in emphatic unison (in the secular version, where this music concludes the first portion of the cantata prior to the sermon, the motif belongs to the word eilt). An instrumental interlude provides more celebratory touches before a short B section and recapitulation.

Given the opulence of the writing in the two surviving choral movements, it’s reasonable to assume that the lost final chorus of BWV 34a was probably something of a tour de force. The 1894 B&H full score includes the extant soprano and bass parts together with fragmentary strings and continuo parts, with the empty alto and tenor staves taunting you in their blankness. The manuscript alto part bears only a blank page where this music should have been – in the flurry to complete all the parts for the performance, the alto and tenor lines must have been written out on separate sheets that disappeared. If I could have some lost pieces found, it would be the other parts for this chorus, whose text alternates the famous benediction from Numbers 6 (May the Lord bless you and keep you) with other words of blessing, and concludes in a long sequence of Amens. A complete BWV 34a would be a significant addition to the repertoire.

Some time has passed and I’m behind in this project, but that was probably inevitable given the scope of the task as well as my hectic schedule. Among other events has come in October the publication of John Eliot Gardiner’s Bach book, Music in the Castle of Heaven. As I have worked through this first year and utilized so many of Sir John’s liner notes from his Cantata Pilgrimage journals, I found myself hoping that somehow these journals would be collected and published separately. And here they are! Well, perhaps not in their entirety, but much of that material has been incorporated here, along with a lifetime’s experience studying, performing, and living this repertoire. If you still owe a musician a Christmas present, here it is.

BWV 33 - Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ

Week 33 (10 September – 15 September 2013)

Recording: Ton Koopman, Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra and Choir; Franziska Gottwald, alto; Paul Agnew, tenor; Klaus Mertens, bass

For mid-September, here is a cantata originally premiered in September, nearly three hundred years ago in 1724. This chorale cantata opens with a large-scale, hybrid sinfonia/coro that blends the extensively-developed instrumental sections with straight-forward utterances of the Konrad Hubert hymn text. From the chorister’s perspective, this can make the movement seem fragmented, but in this case, it’s all about the text. If you want contrapuntal complexity and challenging fugues, look elsewhere. Expressing fundamental concepts of his faith, Bach allows the choral parts to focus on declaiming the words and assigns the complexity to the orchestra. The elaborate orchestral passages highlight the text, setting it off so that the audience can consider each statement.

The movement is in A-A-B-C format, with the sturdy A section affirming the role of Christ as comforter and beacon of hope. The soprano carries the cantus firmus. The declamatory B section clarifies that no mortal can provide a substitute for Christ as leader on the path out of sin and to salvation. Accordingly, the C segment begins with the imploring cry Ich ruf dich an. The soprano line presents the words with calm assurance; the alto/tenor/bass provide a rumbling contrast beneath them with a more urgent entreaty.

Emerging from this collective call are the individual calls in the succeeding recitatives and arias. Using text from an unknown poet that builds on Hubert’s 1540 hymn, Bach gives the soloists ample dramatic opportunity in the interior movements. The bass recitative following the opening chorus is a wonderful study in communicating the ambivalent moods of the seeker after faith, and it ends in a brief arioso with a nice melisma on the capstone verb erfreuen.

Then comes what John Eliot Gardiner refers to as “arguably one of the most beautiful of all Bach’s alto arias”. Having glimpsed ahead to the meltingly tender Wohl euch in BWV 34, I have to wonder what else is out there, since this project has already revealed quite a few beautiful mezzo solos. Wie furchtsam wankten meine Schritte is certainly one of them, but by the random chance of the catalog numbering, this beautiful BWV 33 aria, with its demands on phrasing, line and precise intervals, will be followed by that simple but gorgeous moment of gratitude in BWV 34, and then by the alto cantata BWV 35, where agility, technique and stamina will be tested in a service-length series of arias and recitatives. Good times (and lots of work) for altos!

In this cantata, the alto aria portrays the erring mortal’s hesitation in approaching true faith, but the wavering is mitigated by belief in Christ’s mercy and love. The timid steps – and the initial four consonants of Schritte need to precede the beat despite the context – are depicted by the motive of “drooping” thirds in the A section of the aria. The intervals require clean handling with no scooping, and in the written key the female alto voice has challenges in achieving blend across the lower break. Quick catch-breaths are definitely allowed and are preferable to the alternative of a too-fast tempo that enables unbroken phrases but runs counter to the sense of the text.

An interesting exercise is to play or sing the line with the droops removed, whereupon a stalwart melody emerges, quite similar to the positive statement that enters in the middle of M. 15:

 

Snippet of Alto Aria (M.13-15) - As Written and...

 

 

With a Little Less Uncertainty

 

This observation does not presume to illuminate Bach’s compositional process; rather, it suggests that his genius intuitively processed the potential of a simple structure and reworked it to meet the demands of the text, probably all on a subconscious level.

The unknown poet also enabled Bach to return to a favorite theme in this aria: through Christ’s death and resurrection, everything has been done for us already, dass er für mich genug getan. Emphasizing the insignificance of the individual, the musical line places für mich at the lowest pitch, with upward movement on dass er and genug:

 

At approximately 8 minutes, this great da capo aria is best used in recital – for structural reasons, it should not be abridged. Its chief difficulty lies in interpretation, as it makes few phrasing or technical demands. However, this does not detract from its value as a fantastic study piece. Even if you never plan to perform it, there is a wealth of education here in a far gentler and accessible format than many of the “big” arias.

The tenor recitative parallels the bass verse in its request for tolerance as the sinner makes his slow way to God’s mercy. It includes more wonderful language that allows word-painting such as the setting of verwirf in the first line, as well as whatever emoting fits within the overall shape of the cantata. The subsequent tenor and bass duet is an unusual pairing of the two lower voices. Beginning in a simple block form, the vocal lines become more intricate once the spirit is ignited (entzünde meinen Geist). The vocal lines are evenly matched, requiring both voices to have flexibility as well as robust, complementary timbres. The eight lines of text in the stanza are divided into four sections by their rhyme scheme creating an A-B-C-D structure, and Bach handles each segment differently. For the right voices, this duet would make an interesting choice for a worship service.

The final chorale reverts to Hubert’s text, which appears to be a German version of the Gloria patri and could be used in a similar capacity to introduce a Bach chorale into service music. Although BWV 33 was not composed for one of the high Sundays of the liturgical year, the master ensured with this conclusion that the congregation departed to the resounding statement that by their sincere acts of worship, they had pleased God Hier in dieser Zeit/Und folgends in der Ewigkeit. If the church calendar did not always provide significance, the musical offering did. For Bach, every Sunday was a high Sunday.

 

BWV 32 - Liebster Jesu, mein Verlangen

Week 32 (3 September – 8 September 2013)

Recording: Helmuth Rilling, Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart/Bach-Collegium Stuttgart; Arleen Augér, soprano; Walter Heldwein, bass

The Schmieder listing (essentially the order in which the cantatas were published by the Bach-Gesellschaft) leads to some interesting juxtapositions. From last week’s philosophically challenging cantata calling for a large orchestra and choir to celebrate and examine the most significant date in the church year, BWV 32 provides a contrast in both musical and thematic scale. Written for a cold January Sunday following the Christmas and Epiphany observances, the cantata is as different as could be imagined from its numerical predecessor.

Labelled on the first page of the score as a Concerto in dialogo, the master presents an intimate, chamber piece that sparkles like a small diamond. The alto and tenor soloists, as well as the choir, are given their vacations, and minimal forces are utilized in this very personal statement of the believer’s encounter with God’s love manifested in Christ. With the appropriate array of talent and a suitable venue, this cantata could be performed by two soloists, an oboe, and a string quartet.

After a few measures of introduction, where the motive of yearning is plaintively depicted by the obbligato oboe, the dialogue begins with the lovely soprano aria from which the cantata takes its name. The singer portrays the soul in search of Jesus, fearful of loss and separation. But the mood is not one of despair, it is instead a most ethereal quest requiring the singer to float languid phrases and match the phrasing of the solo instrumentalist. The vocal part enters in imitation, contrasting the delicate figure for the adjective liebster with the longed-for object, Verlangen. Certain statements, such as Wo find ich dich? (M.15) need to be sung as simply as possible while the oboe churns beneath. The tempo should not be slow to the point where rhythmic integrity is compromised: some recordings show excessive freedom in the solo oboe part, which destroys forward movement as well as Baroque styling.

Beginning in M.35, there is a set of two long melismatic phrases focused on erfreue (which plays off the liebster motive) and umfangen (which riffs on the yearning motive). The 32^nd-note passages parallel the oboe part making ensemble quite difficult. The aria is in A-B-C format and provides a challenge suitable for a graduate-level recital – for the right voice it is stunning. A bit long (about 6 minutes) for a church service, though, and a great oboist is essential.

Arleen Augér is a fine interpreter who can teach you everything you need to know about performing this piece, but the voice is definitely a mature sound. Some listeners may prefer a more boyish sound, such as that of Agnes Giebel in the historic RIAS sessions with Karl Ristenpart conducting, or Rachel Nicholls in Suzuki’s recent recording. In choosing soloists to perform the entire cantata, one factor to keep in mind is that the soprano must be able to negotiate this aria but also hold her own in the upcoming duet (where in Rilling’s recording, Augér would be difficult to better).

The da capo bass aria is a long haul, necessitating very definite ideas on structure and pacing from the singer, but at 2 ½ minutes, the A section could be split off and used as a church solo. Either the obbligato violin or an appropriate organ registration needs to be used (preferably the former). As with the oboe in the soprano aria, the demands made on the violinist are equal to those of a fine concerto, requiring a top-notch player. I’m still puzzling over the interesting use of triple stops – what is Bach representing? It’s almost as if it is a moment of hesitation, or perhaps an obstacle between the perfect blending of soul and Christ which is to follow. The vox Christi invites the troubled one into his realm, but the soul must arrive there by seeking God with sincere faith.

The soprano and bass alternate lines in the following recitative as the Lehms’ cantata text, which at times seems abstruse, here weaves in the famous passage from Psalm 84 that begins Wie lieblich ist doch deine Wohnung. While I wanted to unearth some musical link to Brahms, the arioso has no such connection although it is evocative in its own right.

If you are a soprano and bass who get along, and want to give your audience and yourselves a treat, the soprano and bass duet is a delightful five minutes for either church or recital – easily my favorite cantata duet so far, although the range is a bit wide for an alto to attempt (but in Baroque pitch it may work for some "hybrid" voices with the appropriate vocal partner). The instruments associated with the soloists have remained separate until now, when Bach interweaves them with wonderful, ornate instrumental writing. Yet the association of oboe with soprano, and violin with bass, still persists in the background, as at the start of the B section. The text serves either sacred or secular purposes and needs the same leggiero handling in both. No flirting allowed here – it is Tamino and Pamina reunited after overcoming the odds. This is music that disperses the gloom of the most wintry day – Bach’s Leipzigers were forced to be uplifted despite themselves.

The chorale in bright G major brings again the melody Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele, most recently heard as the concluding movement of BWV 30 (with a different poet and text). There is some disagreement on the origins of this tune: a clear lineage does go back to the Genevan Psalter (1551). Bach probably knew the music from one of the many reprintings of the Psalmen Davids, the German translation of the Psalter by Ambrosius Lobwasser.

Psalm 42 Tune from Lobwasser’s Psalmen Davids (1576 Edition)

This cantata is filled with charm, warmth, and difficulty but would be immensely rewarding for both performers and audience. Numerous recordings are available, but the one I most want to hear features Elly Ameling and Hermann Prey as soloists – I can’t imagine a better pairing. Unfortunately, it has not been re-issued on CD (at least in the U.S.), so it required an extensive eBay search. But I did score a copy purportedly in near mint condition – which now makes two LPs I have acquired for this project that need to be transferred to CD! That will probably occur about the time I hit BWV 199…