Monthly Archives: October 2017

Starlight shining on a Trinity cantata

15 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by in Cantatas, Epiphany, Leipzig, Trinity

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threekings

The Three Kings, on one of four panels of an altar from Rottweil, Germany.

I would like to dedicate this post to my friends in the Santa Rosa, Napa, and Mendocino areas who are living with enormous stress and challenges due to the fires raging up there. They can all use a silver lining, and the cantata from 1724 for this 18th Sunday after Trinity has an abundance of it.

All this time in the summer and fall of 1724, Bach was writing chorale cantatas, meaning that each cantata would be based on a hymn, if possible one of the ones associated with that particular Sunday in the church year.  For this reason he chose Herr Christ, der einige Gottessohn (Lord Christ, the only son of God) for this cantata with the same title.

Overall, I prefer Ton Koopman’s recording of this cantata 96 Herr Christ, der einige Gottessohn. Listen to that recording here on YouTube, or here on Spotify. Soloists are Deborah York, soprano; Franziska Gottwald, alto; Paul Agnew, tenor; Klaus Mertens, bass; Heiko ter Schegget, sopranino recorder; and Wilbert Hazelzet, transverse flute.

Find the German text with English translation here.

In the Lutheran Church the chorale Herr Christ, der einige Gottessohn, one of the oldest Protestant hymns, was not so much associated with this Sunday, but more with Epiphany/Three Kings, January 6, for its reference to the Morning Star. Bach brings the luster of the Christmas season into this cantata in the most beautiful way. He gives the opening chorus a dusting of starlight by writing a part for flauto piccolo, or sopranino recorder, over the rest of the vocal and instrumental parts. Because in this opening chorus the altos have the chorale melody (doubled by a cornetto, on this recording played by Arno Paduchn), Bach can create an ethereal link between the chorus and the flauto piccolo by way of the soprano part in the chorus. In the fifth line of the text, Er ist die Morgensterne (he is the Morning Star), he modulates to the brilliant key of E Major on the word Morgensterne.

The alto recitative and tenor aria that follow refer to the fact that Jesus is God’s son, not David’s son. This is the only direct reference to the Gospel reading for this Sunday: Jesus giving the Jewish elders a hard time when they claimed that he was only David’s son, not God’s son (Matthew 22: 34-46).  In the tenor aria, fabulously sung by Paul Agnew, Bach features his flute player again.

The soprano recitative moves the focus to Jesus as guiding light, referring to the “he is the Morning Star” text from the chorale. The soprano’s statement that it can be hard to stay on the “right path” is illustrated in the bass aria.

Please listen to Peter Kooy’s interpretation of this aria on the Bach Collegium Japan recording, here on YouTube. We have heard faltering steps in Bach cantatas before (read my post about that here), but this time Bach offers a more theatrical illustration. In the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig a visual and aural effect would have made this even stronger: the violins, at least in the beginning playing when the bass sings “zu rechten” (now to the right), would have stood on the right-hand balcony, the oboes, playing when the bass sings “zu linken” (now to the left) would have stood on the left-hand balcony. Also, in Bach’s rhetoric, right meant good and high, left meant bad and low.

The middle part of this cantata, with the text “Gehe doch, mein Heiland, mit” (My saviour please come with me) always moves me. I hope that the people affected by the California fires will continue to reach out and that the concerned and caring community will continue to offer support in the weeks and months to come, because this will be a long haul.

 

Wieneke Gorter, October 15, 2017.

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Instrumental solos that bring me to tears and a bit of farmers’ music

07 Saturday Oct 2017

Posted by in Cantatas, Leipzig, Trinity

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feudalism

Six weeks ago, I noticed that Bach’s cantatas for the 11th Sunday after Trinity all give me a good kind of stomach ache. This week, it seems that all instrumental solos for the 17th Sunday after Trinity make me cry. It happened last year when listening to the violin solo in cantata 148, and it happened to me again with the hauntingly beautiful flute solo in the tenor aria of cantata 114 Ach, lieben Christen, seid getrost.

It is an exceptional aria, ten minutes long, and extremely demanding for the tenor as well as the flutist. The first recording I listened to set the standard for the rest: a fabulous flutist, most probably Marc Hantaï, and tenor John Elwes on a live audio recording from 1988 by La Chapelle Royale under the direction of Gustav Leonhardt.  I absolutely adore Frans Brüggen’s flute playing on the Leonhardt recording from 1980, but don’t enjoy Kurt Equiluz’ singing as much. Mark Padmore’s singing on the Gardiner recording is to die for, but flutist Rachel Beckett’s decisions on where to breathe are not as sensitive as Marc Hantaï’s, and with Hantaï’s interpretation already in my head, I found it distracting. The same goes for Wilbert Hazelzet’s playing on the Koopman recording, with tenor Christoph Prégardien.

elwes-john-2

John Elwes

marchantaii

Marc Hantaï

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This La Chapelle Royale/Gustav Leonhardt recording is also a nice monument from the past for me, since it has all the soloists I was in love with at the time: soprano Agnès Mellon, countertenor Gérard Lesne, and bass Peter Kooy. When you watch the YouTube recording on a screen, you can read along in the score. And that is interesting in this case, especially in the opening chorus and the soprano aria.

Find the German text with English translation of this cantata here.

Reading along with the opening chorus, you can see that the joyful figure that is at first only in the continuo (orchestra bass) part, spreads through all the other parts, a message from Bach that the consolation in the text of the chorale is more important than the punishment. The punishment is still present though, in the repeated staccato notes in some of the instrumental parts, and, at 2 minute 24 seconds, visually only, in the score: there are the three whip lashes diagonally from top to bottom over the page in the instrumental parts, illustrating the word “Straf” (punishment) the chorus sings there. Or see this image, courtesy of Eduard van Hengel:

114-120straf20gr

When reading along with the soprano aria, at 15 minutes 5 seconds, you can see or hear how in the continuo part, Bach illustrates the flick of the wrist of the farmer who sows the seeds.  If you have time, I encourage you to also listen to Gardiner’s remarkable take on this soprano aria. In his notes accompanying his live recording, he explains that the text “The grain of wheat will bear no fruit unless it fall into earth” can be seen as a warning to the farmer to get his timing right when sowing his winter cereals. Gardiner, a sheep farmer in his spare time and always eager to point out connections to the seasons in Bach’s music, is obviously really excited to bring out this text: he has the entire soprano section sing it, with much more fervor and much better enunciation than Agnès Mellon on the Chapelle Royale/Leonhardt recording. He also explains in his notes that they took Bach’s indication “continuo unisono” to mean that the organ should double the cello part. Since they always use church organs for their recordings, it sounds impressive. I truly appreciate hearing this movement performed this way.

Then go back to the Chapelle Royale/Leonhardt recording, and listen to Gérard Lesne, my first countertenor love*, spookily illustrating the approach of death, with similar chromatic lines as in last week’s arias.

Wieneke Gorter, October 6, 2017.

 

*After having been introduced to Gérard Lesne’s Vivaldi CD at the Utrecht Early Music Festival in 1992, I became a fan, and my sister and I saw him live in the actual Chapelle Royale of Versailles, singing music for Holy Week by Charpentier, in 1994.

Inspired by Telemann? Cantatas 99 and 8

01 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by in Cantatas

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redpalaceweimar

The Rote Schloss (Red Palace) of Duke Ernst August in Weimar, where Bach and Telemann probably first met, while Telemann was working in Eisenach and Bach was working in Weimar

This is a double post: for today, and also for last Sunday. But before I discuss Cantata 99 Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan (Trinity 15, Sept 17, 1724) and Cantata 8 Liebster Gott, wenn wird ich sterben (Trinity 16, Sept 24, 1724), I would like to introduce you to a Telemann cantata: Du Daniel gehe hin.

Telemann’s beautiful cantata is not widely known today, but must have been rather famous among Telemann’s colleagues in the first half of the 18th century. The Kantor of the St. Nicholas Church in Berlin performed it in 1757, and I just realized this week that it must have been on Bach’s mind in 1724. While Bach and Telemann worked in the same region only from about 1708 to 1712, they were good friends, and it is generally assumed that they would have seen each other in Hamburg and Köthen a few times in the early 1720s.

I don’t know whether Bach’s “Ruht wohl, ihr heiligen Gebeine” closing chorus of the St. John Passion had anything to do with Telemann’s “Schlaft wohl, ihr seligen Gebeine” closing chorus in Du Daniel gehe hin, but it does look to me as if Bach borrowed the music of the soprano aria from Du Daniel gehe hin for the duet of  Cantata 99. If that is indeed what happened, then it seems very likely that, one week later, Bach was inspired by Telemann’s use of pizzicato strings as “funeral bells” in Du Daniel gehe hin when writing the opening chorus and tenor aria of Cantata 8.

For Cantata 99 Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan I prefer the Rifkin recording, from the same album as the Cantata 78 recording I discussed two weeks ago. Again soprano Julianne Baird and countertenor Allan Fast shine, and I love the quicker tempo Rifkin chooses for the duet compared to other conductors. Listen to this recording on YouTube.

Find the text and translation  of Cantata 99 here, and the score here.

For Cantata 8 Liebster Gott, wenn wird ich sterben there is no other choice than Herreweghe. This is definitely in my top five cantata recordings ever because of the combination of Bach’s music and Herreweghe’s interpretation. Listen to the incredibly beautiful oboe playing at the start of the tenor aria, and the horn in the opening and closing chorus. Peter Kooy does a fabulous job in the bass aria, which is so difficult it is on par with bass arias from the Christmas Oratorio and the end of the Trinity season of 1723. I wonder if Bach had an exceptional bass visiting for Michaelmas that year (Sept 29, for which he wrote this dramatic bass aria about the Archangel Michael slaying the dragon*).

Find the text and translation of Cantata 8 here, and the score here.

A striking element in both Cantatas 99 and 8 is Bach’s use of the flute. In cantata 99 Bach uses the instrument in two solo movements, the tenor aria as well as the soprano-alto duet. There could be a simple reason for this unusual choice: showing off his flute player (read more about him in this post). However, it is more likely that Bach wanted to point out the references to the cross in the text of both these movements, and what better instrument to bring out those harrowing chromatic lines than the flute? Using the flute to reinforce the image of the cross makes even more sense when you see what Bach does in the opening chorus of cantata 8. If you believe that his use of staccato flutes in the “Crucifixus” of the Mass in B Minor serves as image of hammering nails into the cross, then it is pretty clear what Bach’s hidden message is here.

Wieneke Gorter, October 1, 2017

*St. Michael’s Fair was a huge event in Leipzig, drawing visitors from as far as England and Poland, increasing the city’s population to 30,000. Read more about musicians visiting for this feast in my post about cantata 148, written for this same Sunday in 1723 or 1725.