BWV 35 - Geist und Seele wird verwirret

Week 35 (31 December 2013 – 5 January 2014)

Recording: Helmuth Rilling, Bach-Collegium Stuttgart; Julia Hamari, alto

Although this is the first solo cantata encountered when following the Schmieder numbering sequence, BWV 35 was actually the second in a series of cantatas composed for solo alto in mid-late 1726 (the others are BWV 170 and BWV 169). For this work, scholarship suggests that “assembling” may be as apt a term as composing, since some components – notably the virtuosic sinfonia movements for organ that begin each section of the cantata – were apparently borrowed from earlier instrumental works. The challenging vocal music also suggests that a highly competent alto was available, perhaps a professional brought in as a substitute during a time of year when many students may have been occupied with family obligations.

One distinctive feature of this cantata is that Bach selected a text that exactly matched but also amplified the Gospel reading for the Sunday in question: the verses from Mark 7 describing Christ healing the deaf-mute man. The words are those of Georg Christian Lehms (1684-1717), a poet already met several times in this project, whose text explores figurative as well as literal meanings of the condition of being deaf and mute. In the first aria, the wonder of God leaves the awestruck believer taub und stumm. The ability to heal the deaf, mute, and blind is reiterated in the following recitative as proof of the miraculous nature of God. Following the sermon (which logically was surely based on the same scripture reading), the recitative invokes the command Hephata (“be opened”) to heal the recalcitrant who resists placing faith in God. And in the final aria, being released into eternal life with God represents overcoming the loss of senses at death.

If you can master the technical skills required to sing this cantata, you can probably sing just about anything in the Bach alto canon, as the three arias present an encyclopedia of rhythm, pitch, agility, and diction challenges. Any number of vocal exercises can be extracted for general training purposes, e.g., in the first aria M. 30-32 for rhythm and pitches; M.55-56 for rapid passage work; and M. 65-68 as an arpeggio study. This aria, centered on the verb verwirren (to confuse) makes more sense to me if the word is taken in the sense of cheerful or expectant bemusement, rather than in the negative connotation of confusion. After all, the text (and musical depiction) in the B section refers to believers describing God’s miracles mit Jauchzen. The one who contemplates divine greatness is at first so overwhelmed that she cannot comprehend human language or find words to communicate – but it is a positive, hopeful situation.

The technical handling of the somewhat disconnected phrases in this aria must be carefully thought through. In some cases the intent is for a true pause (M. 38), while in others a connection needs to be maintained (that is, the vocal mechanism should not relax but remain active – M. 11). Meanwhile, the continuity of the text itself needs to frame the singer’s musical decisions. This fairly long da capo aria should not be abridged since the B section is needed for textual completeness, but it could be used for a recital (although it is an endurance exercise).

The two long recitatives illustrate that there is fully as much interpretive skill needed in this cantata as in any operatic role. For instance, the lines: Du machst es eben/Dass sonst ein Wunderwerk vor dir was Schlechtes ist. What a concept to try to convey, when there are no theatrical gestures to help you, and only the most delicate musical scaffolding. The meaning that you find in the text must be conveyed through intellectual assimilation and processing of the words so that the subtle partnership between singer and composer is transparent to the listener and it is always the composer that is heard. In both recitatives and arias, Bach’s intent can only speak after you have done a lot of work.

The aria Gott hat alles wohlgemacht which concludes the first part of the cantata is as cheerful and elegant as you will find, a perfect choice for an all-purpose solo anthem for church, or for a bright opening to a recital. The characteristic melisma in M. 8-9 recurs several times in the same or a slightly modified format, so that perfecting that sequence goes a long way to mastering the aria’s technical challenges. The voice definitely needs to be kept light and flexible, without dark, contralto tones. The F major edition invites lower sopranos to partake as well, and that is certainly one solution to obtaining the right tone and weight for these pieces. I pulled this aria out many times over the past months when I wanted something optimistic and happy to sing – and it proved to be a wonderful warm-up piece as well.

The final aria is the most problematic both in meaning as well as structure. The 18^th-century Lutheran idea that one longs for death so as to be with God can be a challenge for our 21^st-century sensibilities. Here the text might also suggest that we can find release from the cares of everyday life by placing ultimate faith in God. The musical format is somewhat atypical, although the aria stands on its own, with its built-in organ introduction and postlude. Once again, the music calls for a light voice, or a lightened voice. That doesn’t mean it can’t be a full, rich sound, but that any heaviness is to be avoided (remembering that this aria was originally sung by a young male alto). The recording with Julia Hamari is the best I heard with a mezzo. There are two very difficult melismatic passages (M. 31-42 and M. 89-95) that will put this aria beyond most singers. While these passages are excellent training exercises, in actual performance they would be pretty treacherous. So if you are looking for a recital piece, there are better choices – this aria works best left within the cantata.

But the cantata done in its entirety is excellent concert material not only for a great singer but also for a fine organist. Another unique aspect of BWV 35 is that in addition to the solo organ movements, the organ is used as the obbligato instrument in the arias. A very cool graduate recital for an ambitious alto would be to marshal your colleagues to present BWV 34 and 35 on a program – you would seldom have the opportunity to do this outside a conservatory setting, and you will seldom find such a rewarding pairing.

The more I have worked with this cantata, the more I have become taub und stumm recognizing all the challenges and rewards of this music. “Assembled” or not, the end result is as unified a structure as you could ask, permeated with the master’s melodic genius. It’s truly a special work, and endlessly gratifying, for a soloist to attempt. I’ll often return to BWV 35 for study and just maybe at some point to perform that second aria!

Finally, an interesting tidbit concerning Bach’s librettist for this work. Lehms’ short but productive life also yielded a series of novels based on Biblical stories that were intended for general readership (i.e. both men and women), and he appears to have been an early advocate for women’s education as well as a proponent of recognizing their literary abilities: he compiled and published a collection of poetry by female authors. This was undoubtedly a controversial position for his time, and with his early death (from tuberculosis) we can only speculate as to whether he would have pursued any further initiatives. But certainly he never could have dreamed that nearly three centuries after his demise, his words would still be read, studied, and sung, by educated women (and men) all over the world.

Excerpt from Title Page of Lehms' Teutschlands Galante Poetinnen
(Dass das Weibliche Geschlecht so geschick zum Studieren als das Männliche)