Recording:
Philippe Herreweghe, Collegium Vocale Gent; Barbara Schlick, soprano; Catherine Patriasz, alto; Christoph Prégardien, tenor; Peter
Kooy, bass
For Americans of my generation,
the rocket and shuttle launches of the U.S. space program have been defining
moments. I have never witnessed a launch in person, but have seen them many
times on television – the spectacular clouds of steam and exhaust gasses out of
which emerge brilliant flames as the rocket shoots upward at maximum speed to
escape the earth’s gravitational field. The camera follows the rocket as it grows
smaller and smaller, dwindling to a tiny point of reflected light before
disappearing into the heavens.
If transported into our time, a space launch
would be one modern invention Bach would have the intellectual framework to
comprehend: he immediately would have identified it with the Ascension – so
vividly portrayed in this great cantata, which intentionally falls just shy of
oratorio proportions (although there is no denying the Mary Magdalene character
of the last three solo movements). For Ascension 1726, this work shows
the master at the height of his cantata-making powers, and, as with the rocket,
the cantata begins in an explosion of exuberant instrumental and vocal color,
which grows progressively more inward-looking until at last, the miraculous
being has departed, leaving uncertain mortals marveling in his wake.
The flow of
the narrative is sure and smooth, unencumbered by lengthy da capo arias, although all four voice parts receive meaty solos. A brief
6-measure adagio draws listeners into
the world of the cantata, focusing their attention on the text from Psalm 47
as set in a sparkling coro. This text,
used by many composers, from Palestrina’s Ascendit
Deus to Gerald Finzi’s God is gone up,
is considered to be a reference to the Ascension, although whether that is
consistent with Old Testament interpretations of the Messiah’s coming and
departure is not for me to say. At about four minutes, the coro is a wonderful and challenging anthem with a text that, while
Bach used it for Ascension, can be used multiple times in the church year. The
opening contrapuntal section, illuminated by upward movement on fahret and auf, resolves in a (mostly) homophonic coda that encourages all
singers present with emphatic repetitions of lobsinget.
Having been away from these choruses for a few months, this one brought back to
me the difficulties and the rewards of the big Bach choral movements, where
what at first seems impossible for both individual and ensemble, emerges after focused study and rehearsal as so inevitably right that it becomes easy
and natural. This coro has a
particularly good alto line, even providing (M. 41) the opportunity to sing the
fugue subject a fifth above the sopranos! Replete with celebratory trumpets,
this movement provides the “blast-off” for the cantata.
The following secco recitative for tenor features
wonderful text (such as the enumeration of the worldly blessings in M. 9) and
is an indispensable lead-in to the killer aria that follows. Only those who
have mastered their scales have a shot at survival. Prégardien
provides a marvelous model here, with the dexterity and range (D4↗A6)
that are critical to success. But if you have these technical elements, the
aria is great fun for you to sing and for the audience to hear. An unusual
feature is the ending of the vocal line on a sustained G4 for 5 measures – Bach
deprives the tenor of a final flourish but composes music appropriate for the
sung word erliegt (to succumb).
The
short soprano recitative on Gospel text concisely describes the Ascension
event. That Bach assigned this text to the highest voice, rather than a more
authoritative (lower) voice, could indicate that he wanted to portray the
element of childlike wonder so necessary to literal belief (the
music would have originally been sung by a child soprano).
The next six
movements use a text from an unknown poet, whose work utilized a definite
structure of two sets of three verses each. The last two lines of each verse in
the first set address heaven, earthly power, and celestial thrones respectively
as means to glorify the ascended Jesus. The final three verses – the Mary
Magdalene verses – express her feelings as she stands on the road looking after
the vanished Christ, “I…look after him joyfully (longingly, thankfully)”. The
first three verses contain exhortatory statements, the last three are
visionary.
The soprano aria offers the singer a
good entry-level Bach selection for an Ascension Sunday service. The melismatic
portions (M.26 and M.28) are scale-derived and not overly demanding. This aria
concludes the first part of the cantata, paving the way for an apposite sermon.
Bach
often uses the stentorian tones of a bass voice to awaken the congregation
after the preaching, and does so in BWV 43. Part II begins with an accompagnato recitative which contains
possibly the most fiendish passage (M.10-11) the master ever tossed to his bass
soloist. Peter Kooy astonishes with his rapid-fire dispatch of this passage,
which may need to be marked possibile
for the rest of us. A boisterous and challenging aria follows, with a text that
forms the theological center of the cantata, as it tells of the teurer Kauf that has gained salvation
for mortals. This aria can be used in various church seasons, and is especially
worthwhile if a trumpeter is available for the obbligato part. For the ambitious singer, the instrumental style of
the vocal writing provides an excellent exercise in interval work (e.g., M.
13-16). Bach does not word-paint in this aria, but sets an overall mood of
passionate devotion.
The alto recitative and aria are a hauntingly beautiful
evocation of the solitude of sudden bereavement mixed with an anticipatory joy
of the blessings now guaranteed to come. M.7 of the recitative contains a quite
stunning melismatic treatment of the text. My question was why Bach chose to
set the verb schaue in this way,
rather than place the melisma on the obvious (and usual) choice of freudig. In trying to make sense of it,
I saw in the dictionary, adjacent to schauen
(to look at, or observe – i.e., a passive action), the similar verb schauern (to shudder, shiver). If you
can accept this blending of cognate verbs, the music then implies a trembling
with joy, perhaps tinged with terror as the observer watches the rocket streak
off into space.
The aria is a great solo, for Ascension or any time you can use
it, with some technical challenges in the chromatic passages (mournfully
descending for Jammer, longingly
ascending for sehnlich). The
difficult passage M. 72-76 makes a fine exercise in phrasing and intonation.
The tempo in Catherine Patriasz’ rendition for Herreweghe’s recording seems a
bit fast to me, but each performer must strike a balance between the florid
passages (such as M. 39-40 for the soloist – and throughout the movement for the challenging
instrumental parts) and the sustained notes in the contrasting section M.
45-53. The operatic feeling of the aria must not distort the evenness of the 16th-note
figures but exist within the rhythmic framework.
A soprano recitative concludes
the verse settings with words of resignation tinged with hope and gratitude. A
lengthy chorale setting of Johann Rist’s alternate text to the Johann Schop tune
originally composed for Rist’s Weinachtsgesang,
Ermunt’re dich, concludes the
cantata. Schop was a famous violinist in his day (mid-17th-century)
and some of his instrumental compositions still exist, but he is principally
remembered for his settings of Rist’s sacred texts. His melodies, some of which
remain in the Lutheran hymnal today, were adapted by various composers, and Bach
also used this tune for one of the chorales in BWV 11 (another Ascension
cantata). The chorale setting in BWV 43 is substantial enough to be used as an
anthem or offertory; in this recording, Herreweghe’s choir is perfection.
Johann
Schop – Frontispiece of Johann Rist’s Himmlische Lieder (1652 edition)
The
lengthy caesura in this project is certainly not the fault of this cantata, but
simply the inevitable intrusion of real life. I have been very fortunate though
in having several wonderful opportunities over the past year to travel to
Germany and Switzerland, including hearing an unforgettable Mass in b minor conducted by Sir John
Eliot Gardiner in Lucerne this past March. I am slowly checking a few Bach boxes
of my own as well, having now touched BWV 4, 10, 93, and 190 as a soloist, performing
experiences which enrich and reinforce my analyses. And I do hope to eventually
perform the alto aria from BWV 43 – it’s a great one! I’m very glad this week I
have finally been able to return to the precious gifts of the master, and blast
off into the next phase of this project with the goal to study (and sing) more
of these profound works.
