As far as we know, Bach wrote three cantatas for this 14th Sunday after Trinity. Please find them all in my post from 2020. It was helpful for me to re-read all these posts from the past seven years. I counted my blessings that I don’t live in wildfire country anymore, and was reminded of my dream to create a podcast about the beauty of the many “trio sonata” tenor arias in Bach cantatas. It will be a while, and I have learned not to promise anything, but if you subscribe to my blog, you’ll be the first to know 🙂
I am a bilingual writer, publicist, choral singer, art and nature lover, happy wife, and blessed mother of two. I started this blog in 2016, inspired by my late mother’s love for Bach’s cantatas. After 23 years in the San Francisco Bay Area, I’m now back in the Netherlands.
Please subscribe to this blog! Simply fill in your email address and you’ll receive an email every time I’ve published a new post. Thank you so much / Vielen Dank / Dankuwel / Merci mille fois / 감사합니다 / 谢谢 / ありがとう / Mille grazie / Muchas gracias / Muito obrigado / Tusen takk / Tack så mycket / Terima kasih / شكراً جزيلاً / תודה רבה
For those of you receiving this in email, please click on the post to read in a web browser, as images and table will display much better that way.
For this Sunday in 1723, the 12th after Trinity, Bach wrote Cantata 69a Lobe den Herrn, meine Seele. In my post from 2016 I remarked how unusual it was for Bach to use trumpets on such a “normal” Sunday, and imagined his father-in-law being in town for a visit. But this week I heard two better arguments.
In his podcast, Bach scholar Michael Maul suggests that after the incredibly serious and sad music of the past three Sundays, Bach might have realized that the Leipzig churchgoers needed to hear something more upbeat. This might sound trivial, but if you look at Bach’s passions, he knew very well when a change in mood was needed and mastered that skill like a great opera composer or playwright. In addition to this good reason, I was also convinced by theologian Karl Graf in the J.S. Bach Foundation’s lecture about Cantata 69a, because he reminded me that the Bible story on which this cantata is based is that of Christ healing a deaf mute. Graf points out that in the time of the Bible, but also still in Bach’s time, a deaf mute would not only have been excluded from society, but would also have been considered a person without faith. Thus, the rejoicing by chorus and trumpets is not only an illustration of the praise the crowd gives after witnessing the miracle, but especially of this person finding faith.
A quarter century later, in 1748, Bach recycled this cantata during the same time of year, but for a completely different occasion: the installation of the new Town Council, or “Ratswahl.” The “Ratswahl” was always on the first Monday after August 24 (the feast of St. Bartholomew); which in 1748 fell on Monday, August 30. Bach must have written about 27 Ratswahl cantatas, but only six have survived.
I have listed Bach’s changes in 1748 here below, expanding on a table created by Eduard van Hengel. I’ve included links for live video recordings of both cantatas (just click on the link at the top of each column).
Live video recording by the J.S. Bach Foundation, Rudolf Lutz, conductor. With Mirjam Berli, soprano; Alex Potter, alto; Raphael Höhn, tenor; Dominik Wörner, bass.
Live recording by the Netherlands Bach Society, Peter Dijkstra, conductor. With Miriam Feuersinger, soprano; Alex Potter, alto; Thomas Hobbs, tenor; Peter Kooij, bass.
Please find the German texts with English translations here, and the score here
Please find the German texts with English translations here, and the score here
Opening Chorus
Opening Chorus, unchanged
Soprano recitative, 11 measures
Ach, dass ich tausend Zungen hätte! Ach wäre doch mein Mund Von eitlen Worten leer! Ach, dass ich gar nichts redte, Als was zu Gottes Lob gerichtet wär! So machte ich des Höchsten Güte kund; Denn er hat lebenslang so viel an mir getan, Dass ich in Ewigkeit ihm nicht verdanken kann.
Soprano recitative, 18 measures
Wie groß ist Gottes Güte doch! Er bracht uns an das Licht, Und er erhält uns noch. Wo findet man nur eine Kreatur, Der es an Unterhalt gebricht? Betrachte doch, mein Geist, Der Allmacht unverdeckte Spur, Die auch im kleinen sich recht groß erweist. Ach! möcht es mir, o Höchster, doch gelingen, Ein würdig Danklied dir zu bringen! Doch, sollt es mir hierbei an Kräften fehlen, So will ich doch, Herr, deinen Ruhm erzählen.
Tenor aria in C Major with recorder and oboe da caccia
Meine Seele, Auf, erzähle, Was dir Gott erwiesen hat! Rühmet seine Wundertat, Laßt ein gottgefällig Singen Durch die frohen Lippen dringen!
Alto aria in G Major with violin and oboe
Meine Seele, Auf! erzähle, Was dir Gott erwiesen hat! Rühme seine Wundertat, Laß, dem Höchsten zu gefallen, Ihm ein frohes Danklied schallen!
Alto recitative with continuo only, 18 measures
Gedenk ich nur zurück, Was du, mein Gott, von zarter Jugend an Bis diesen Augenblick An mir getan, So kann ich deine Wunder, Herr, So wenig als die Sterne zählen. Vor deine Huld, die du an meiner Seelen Noch alle Stunden tust, Indem du nur von deiner Liebe ruhst, Vermag ich nicht vollkommnen Dank zu weihn. Mein Mund ist schwach, die Zunge stumm Zu deinem Preis und Ruhm. Ach! sei mir nah Und sprich dein kräftig Hephata, So wird mein Mund voll Dankens sein.
Tenor recitative with strings 26 measures
Der Herr hat große Ding an uns getan. Denn er versorget und erhält, Beschützet und regiert die Welt. Er tut mehr, als man sagen kann. Jedoch, nur eines zu gedenken: Was könnt uns Gott wohl Bessres schenken, Als dass er unsrer Obrigkeit Den Geist der Weisheit gibet, Die denn zu jeder Zeit Das Böse straft, das Gute liebet? Ja, die bei Tag und Nacht Vor unsre Wohlfahrt wacht? Laßt uns dafür den Höchsten preisen; Auf! ruft ihn an, Dass er sich auch noch fernerhin so gnädig woll erweisen Was unserm Lande schaden kann, Wirst du, o Höchster, von uns wenden Und uns erwünschte Hilfe senden. Ja, ja, du wirst in Kreuz und Nöten Uns züchtigen, jedoch nicht töten.
Bass aria
Bass aria, unchanged
Closing chorale with instruments doubling the vocal lines
Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan, Darbei will ich verbleiben. Es mag mich auf die rauhe Bahn Not, Tod und Elend treiben: So wird Gott mich Ganz väterlich In seinen Armen halten. Drum lass ich ihn nur walten.
Closing chorale with separate parts for trumpets and timpani
Es danke, Gott, und lobe dich Das Volk in guten Taten. Das Land bringt Frucht und bessert sich, Dein Wort ist wohl geraten. Uns segne Vater und der Sohn, Uns segne Gott, der Heilge Geist, Dem alle Welt die Ehre tut, Für ihm sich fürchten allermeist, Und sprecht von Herzen: Amen!
Wieneke Gorter, August 27, 2023.
About Weekly Cantata
I am a bilingual writer, publicist, choral singer, art and nature lover, happy wife, and blessed mother of two. I started this blog in 2016, inspired by my late mother’s love for Bach’s cantatas. After 23 years in the San Francisco Bay Area, I’m now back in the Netherlands.
Please join my readers from all over the world and subscribe to this blog! Simply fill in your email address and you’ll receive an email every time I’ve published a new post. Thank you so much / Vielen Dank / Merci mille fois / 감사합니다 / 谢谢 / ありがとう / Mille grazie / Muchas gracias / Muito obrigado / Takk / Terima kasih / Dankuwel!
“The White Mietke,” a single manual* harpsichord built by Michael Mietke in Berlin, circa 1700. Lacquer artist: Gérard Dagly. Charlottenburg Castle, Berlin, Germany. In his last four years in Köthen, Bach played on a double manual harpsichord by the same builder, built especially for him in 1719.
This past Sunday was the 11th Sunday after Trinity, for which Bach wrote Cantata 179 Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei(See that your fear of God is not hypocrisy) in 1723 in Leipzig.
Much has been written about the stunning fugue in the opening chorus of this cantata, and I happily refer you to my posts from 2016 and 2020 for more information and a link to my favorite recording. But last week I learned something completely new about this opening chorus, thanks to yet another fabulous video series that saw the light during the pandemic: Richard Atkinson’s Bach Analyses. Since I’m a visual learner, I truly love watching videos like these. At first I merely started watching Richard’s video on the opening chorus of Cantata 179 to see if it would perhaps make the complex structure of the composition a bit easier to understand than Eduard van Hengel’s written explanation I had discussed in 2016.
And indeed it really helped me understand the music better! But what’s more, in that video Richard points out that the fugue from Cantata 179 shares some unusual composition techniques as well as themes with another mind boggling fugue by Bach, namely that of his Prelude and fugue no. 3 in C-sharp major (BWV 872) from the Well Tempered Clavier, Book II. As far as I know, no other Bach scholar or commentator ever mentioned this. Listen to that fugue here, played by Christine Schornsheim. We don’t know when exactly Bach wrote the keyboard piece, because we only have the publication date of the collection in which it appeared (Well Tempered Clavier Book II, 1740). It is possible that the cantata came first, but it is just as likely that Bach would have written the keyboard work before the cantata, while still employed at Köthen.
Thinking of Bach playing with fugues on the harpsichord in Köthen brings me to another bit about Bach’s life I learned last week, while watching the interview with Christine Schornsheim by the Netherlands Bach Society: that we actually know what kind of harpsichord Bach played in Köthen, from 1719 to 1723. To be clear: most harpsichord players and all harpsichord builders already know this, but I didn’t, and I thought it worth mentioning here.
Historical records show that the Prince of Köthen allowed Bach to order a harpsichord from the famous builder Michael Mietke in Berlin sometime in 1718, and got to pick it up in March 1719.
On March 1, 1719, the accounts read: “To the Capellmeister Bach for the Berlin-made harpsichord and travel expenses 130 Thaler”. On March 14, Gottschalk, the chamber servant, also received eight thalers in “wages for transporting the Berlin harpsichord.”
The instrument remained in the princely music chamber; Bach did not get to take it with him when he moved to Leipzig in May 1723. In 1784, the instrument is still mentioned: “The large harpsichord or grand piano with 2 manuals, by Michael Mietke in Berlin, 1719, defect.”
Many harpsichord builders have created copies of Bach’s “Mietke harpsichord.” In the video registration of the Prelude and fugue no. 3 in C-sharp major (BWV 872), Christine Schornsheim plays a terrific copy by Bruce Kennedy. The Köthen Castle had a copy made in 1992 by Martin-Christian Schmidt, pictured here:
For the picture at the top of this blog post I chose one of the very few original Mietke harpsichords that have survived to this day, the “White Mietke” at the Charlottenburg Castle in Berlin. It was built almost two decades earlier than Bach’s harpsichord, it only has one single keyboard, and it was decorated by the court painter at Charlottenburg.
Wieneke Gorter, August 23, 2023.
*manual = keyboard
About Weekly Cantata
I am a bilingual writer, publicist, choral singer, art and nature lover, happy wife, and blessed mother of two. I started this blog in 2016, inspired by my late mother’s love for Bach’s cantatas. After 23 years in the San Francisco Bay Area, I’m now back in the Netherlands.
Please join my readers from all over the world and subscribe to this blog! Simply fill in your email address and you’ll receive an email every time I’ve published a new post. Thank you so much / Vielen Dank / Merci mille fois / 감사합니다 / 谢谢 / ありがとう / Mille grazie / Muchas gracias / Muito obrigado / Takk / Terima kasih / Dankuwel!
Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem by Rembrandt van Rijn, 1630. Oil on panel. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Click here for more information about this painting.
Continuing with Bach’s 1723 cantata cycle, next up is Cantata 46 Schauet doch und sehet, ob irgend ein Schmerz sei, written for the 10th Sunday after Trinity (August 1st in 1723).
My favorite recording of this cantatais still the one by Herreweghe from 2012, which you can find here on YouTube via a playlist I created. However if you’d like to see all the special instruments in action, I highly recommend the J.S. Bach Foundation’s live video registration, with a tromba da tirarsi (slide trumpet) and recorders* in the opening chorus, a Baroque trumpet in the bass aria, and an oboe da caccia (hunting oboe, also new for Bach in Leipzig) as well as the recorders in the alto aria.
Scholars agree that last week’s Cantata 105 and this week’s Cantata 46 Schauet doch und sehet, ob irgend ein Schmerz sei, can be seen as a pair within Bach’s works from that first summer in Leipzig. Here’s why:
The stunning opening choruses of these two cantatas are both written as if they were a Prelude and Fugue for organ. Bach would later use the Prelude part of Cantata 46’s opening chorus as the Qui tollis for his Mass in B Minor.
Both cantatas contain a “floating aria.” With this I mean an aria without the usual fundament of a basso continuo (organ or harpsichord and cello), of which Bach’s most famous exemple is the Aus Liebe aria from his St. Matthew Passion. Bach included such an aria for the first time in last week’s Cantata 105 (the soprano aria Wir zittern und wanken) and one appears again in this week’s Cantata 46 (the alto aria Doch Jesus will auch bei der Strafe).
Bach uses a da tirarsi brass instrument in both: a corno da tirarsi in 105 and a tromba da tirarsi in 46 (read last week’s post for more information about these).
I have written about some of these aspects of Cantata 46 before, but I never really paid much attention to the text. I needed Karl Graf, the theologian participating in the lecture about this cantata by the J.S. Bach Foundation**, to point out that the text of this cantata refers to two destructions of Jerusalem, in 586 BC by the Babylonians, and in 70 AD by the Romans.
Jeremiah the Prophet laments the 586 BC massacre in his Lamentations of Jermiah, a collection of poetry from the Old Testament, from which Bach’s librettist takes the words for the opening chorus.
Jesus predicts the destruction by the Romans in 70 AD, and weeps about it, in Luke 19: 41-48, which was the official reading for this 10th Sunday after Trinity in Bach’s church. Bach and his librettist mix the two parts of the Bible, because in their minds it is all the same, history unfortunately repeats itself. The bass aria paints one of the most dramatic pictures ever in a Bach cantata, and the text of the alto recitative warns that Leipzig could be next! Fortunately, as usual in a Bach cantata, there’s the promise of salvation, and a lightening of the mood in the music as well, this time in the form of the pastoral alto aria.
Throughout the Renaissance and Baroque, Catholic and Anglican composers have set the Lamentations of Jeremiah to music for the Tenebrae services of Holy Week. A notable example are those by Jan Dismas Zelenka, Bach’s colleague at the Catholic court in nearby Dresden. Zelenka wrote his Lamentations of Jeremiah the Prophetfor Holy Week in 1722, so roughly 1,5 years before Bach wrote his Cantata 46. While Bach and Zelenka knew each other and Bach had friends in the Dresden court orchestra, I truly don’t know if Bach was aware of Zelenka’s setting of the Lamentations prior to August 1st 1723. There are some interesting similarities between the compositions, for example Zelenka also opting for a pastoral scene towards the end, but that’s food for another blog post! For now I just like to think that Bach wrote his own Lutheran version of the Lamentations with this Cantata 46.
Wieneke Gorter, August 11, 2023.
*It is the first time Bach uses recorders in Leipzig, but it is an instrument he often uses to portray sorrow.
**If you understand German or don’t mind automatically generated subtitles on YouTube, you can watch the extremely informative lecture about Cantata 46 here. It doesn’t just feature Rudolf Lutz and Karl Graf, but also Bach Scholar Michael Maul from the Bach-Archiv Leipzig.
Olivier Picon with a natural horn on the left, and corno da tirarsi on the right
I’m in movie script mode again and jumping back 300 years, to the summer of 1723 in Leipzig. I believe that when moving to Leipzig, Bach couldn’t wait to meet the town’s famous brass player, Gottfried Reiche (1667-1734). I imagine that throughout the summer of 1723, these two creative geniuses would have frequently been “geeking out” about Reiche’s exciting innovation in brass instruments: the corno da tirarsi (or slide horn, on the right in the picture above), for which Bach most probably started writing around Trinity 4 in 1723 (about a month before today’s cantata).
As far as we know Reiche owned the one and only specimen and was the only one who knew how to play it. Scholars consider it very likely that he had the instrument specially made for him, in order to play more complicated music on a horn than one could at the time on a natural horn.
I have written about the corno da tirarsi before.However, I never fully realized how incredibly special that instrument must have been at the time, what the exact difference was with regular horns at the time, and how it works. Ironically, as a result of musicians being stuck at home during the pandemic, there are now some excellent educational videos on youtube, which explain all of this much better than I could ever do in writing.
So here goes with the lesson:
For an excellent demonstration of the limitations of natural horns before 1750, please watch the first three and a half minutes of this video by Todd Wiliams from the USA.
Then watch this video by Anneke Scott from the UK, about the corno da tirarsi as reconstructed by Egger.
Thank you Todd Williams and Anneke Scott! If you would like to show your appreciation for Anneke’s efforts, you can buy her a coffee on this website.
Gottfried Reiche
There is no doubt in my mind that Bach had already heard about Leipzig’s highly skilled senior Stadtpfeiffer (town piper) Gottfried Reiche before moving to Leipzig in May of 1723. Bach came from a family of town pipers, and in 1721 he married into a family where every single male was a trumpet player (just sit with that for a few seconds). Reiche was of the same generation as Bach’s father-in-law Johann Caspar Wilcke (c. 1660–1733), and both had been trained in Weissenfels, which Olivier Picon qualifies as “probably the most important city in trumpet playing tradition in Germany at that time” in his 2010 thesis about the corno da tirarsi. I can imagine the animated discussions at both the Bach and the Wilcke family gatherings. Reiche’s virtuosity as well as his unusual instruments* must have been a frequent subject!
Now we come to today’s Cantata 105 Herr, gehe nicht ins Gericht mit deinem Knecht.(Enter not into judgement with Thy servant, O Lord.) It is one of my favorite cantatas, and Bach’s first** Leipzig cantata with a significant solo part for the corno da tirarsi, in the tenor aria. For the educational purpose of this blog as well as for the excellent rendition of the tenor aria I would like to feature the live video by the J.S. Bach Foundation, with Olivier Picon (pictured at the top of this post) playing the corno da tirarsi in the opening chorus, the tenor aria, and the closing chorale. Other soloists are Sibylla Rubens, soprano; Jan Börner, alto; Bernhard Berchtold, tenor; and Tobias Wicky, bass.
Picon initiated the reconstruction of the corno da tirarsi by the Swiss brass instrument firm Egger, which Anneke Scott also refers to in her video. Picon’s thesis from 2010, documenting the reconstruction as well as meticulously analyzing all cantatas that might have possibly been written for this instrument, is still the main source for scholars when discussing the corno da tirarsi. In this work, Picon also shares that Cantata 105 is his favorite cantata to play on the instrument.
Read the German text with English translations of Cantata 105 here, and find the score here.
Of course there’s much more to this cantata than just the unusual instrumentation. In 2021, also as part of a pandemic project, I wrote a post for California Bach Society highlighting all the ways in which this cantata foreshadows the St. Matthew Passion. Please find that post here.
I welcome your questions, comments, or words of encouragement below in the comment-section.
Wieneke Gorter, August 6, 2023.
*Reiche apparently was also the owner and player of another unique instrument, the tromba da tirarsi, or slide trumpet. **Cantata 24 for the 4th Sunday after Trinity 1723 also features a solo part that might have been meant for the instrument, but opinions about this vary, and even Picon suggests the opening chorus might be played on a tromba da tirarsi (slide trumpet) and the closing chorale on a natural horn.
As far as we know, Bach wrote two cantatas for this Sunday, the third after Trinity: Cantata 21 Ich hatte viel Bekümmernis and Cantata 135 Ach Herr, mich armen Sünder.
Read my post from 2017 about Cantata 135 here. Since I wrote that post, a beautiful live video recording by the J.S. Bach Foundation has been released on YouTube. Find it here.
But now about Cantata 21. It is one of Bach’s most well-known cantatas and it gets programmed often because it features several exciting choruses. The version most of us know is with three soloists: a soprano, a tenor, and a bass. Bach first wrote it like that in Weimar and later performed a similar version in Leipzig in 1723, as part of his first year there. However, in 1720, he created a different version, which he performed in Köthen as well as in Hamburg. It is likely that this version was created for a special soprano soloist (possibly Anna Magdalena?), because in this version, Bach assigns all three tenor solos to the soprano as well, thus featuring the soprano in every solo movement. The bass joins her for two duets.
Dorothee Mields
It turns out that the J.S. Bach Foundation decided to perform this 1720 version for their live video series, with soprano Dorothee Mields and bass Peter Kooij. If I had been at that concert in person, I would have joined the whooping and clapping at the end, because it is an outstanding performance by both soloists but also by the chorus. I only discovered this video recording by accident tonight. I had completely missed it when it was released earlier this month. I meant to write a very short blog post today, quickly giving you some links to previous posts and then go to sleep, but I was completely mesmerized by Dorothee Mields’ singing and was unable to close my computer.
In my post from 2016 about Cantata 21, I show how similar the duet from this cantata is to the duet from Cantata 172 (also written in Weimar). When I watched the J.S. Bach Foundation video of Cantata 21 and witnessed Mields’ art of being in sync with her duet partner, I remembered there’s another wonderful video I have wanted to share. It is Dorothee Mields and Alex Potter singing the duet from Cantata 172 in this video by the Bach Akademie Stuttgart that came out at the end of May. I enjoy very much how sensitive Mields and Potter both are to the music and the text, and how beautifully and naturally their voices move together.
If you don’t feel like reading a long blog post and just want to learn about this Sunday’s cantatas, please watch Rudolf Lutz’ wonderful lecture/improvisation from 2020 about Cantata 44 and 183here. It is in English. Find my blog post about these same cantatas, highlighting completely different aspects of the pieces, here.
We tend to think that Christmas was the busiest time for Bach in Leipzig, writing cantatas for the three (!) Christmas Days, New Year’s Day, Epiphany, AND all the Sundays that fell in between those days. On the holidays, he would often perform the cantatas twice, once in the St. Nicholas Church, and once in the St. Thomas Church.
While working like this for two weeks in a row does sound crazy to us, we can still relate to it, because the Christmas season is often busy for most of us too.
But especially because of this wanting or needing to relate, I think we often forget that there was another period in the year for Bach in Leipzig that was equally busy: the time from Easter to Trinity. It was perhaps not as non-stop as the Christmas season, but it was much longer in time, and more laden with decision-making, so possibly more draining for the composer. We don’t know.
I would like to go back to my posts from the spring of 2018, when I was following Bach’s writing in the spring of 1725. Going forward, this year, I would like to keep following his cantata compositions from 1725. So let’s look at what this possibly exhausting period looked like for Bach in 1725. All the links in this following list refer to my own blog posts from 2018. The Easter Oratorio was rewritten from a previous work, but every single cantata Bach wrote after that was newly composed that year, 1725.
March 30, Good Friday: The second version of the St. John Passion, with a new opening chorus and several new arias.
April 1, Easter Sunday: First performance of the Easter Oratorio as well as a repeat performance of Cantata 4 Christ lag in Todesbanden (written much earlier in his career)
This Third Sunday after Easter, or “Jubilate” Sunday, was also the start of a three-week-long Trade Fair in Leipzig, lasting until Exaudi Sunday (this Sunday). Leipzig had three such events each year (the others were at Michaelmas and at New Year’s). In the 18th century Leipzig had become the centre for trade with Russia, Poland, and England. During the fairs the population of the city would grow to 30,000. Bach did business himself too during these times. He for example timed the publication of his Clavierübung to coincide with these fairs. In addition to that, I imagine that he would have had visitors in his house, and that he was making time to meet with friends and colleagues who were in town during this time.
April 29: Cantata 108 Es ist euch gut, daß ich hingehe
Philippe Herreweghe at the Bach Academy Bruges, photo by M.Hendrickx
On January 31, 2021, Philippe Herreweghe and his Collegium Vocale Gent performed three cantatas at the beautiful concert hall “De Singel” in Antwerp, Belgium. In my humble opinion, this was a very moving and inspired performance, and my hat is off to everyone on stage, that they were able to find this energy and inspiration in Bach’s music, in the texts, and in making music together, because they were performing without an audience. Please find the live video recording here on YouTube. Soloists are Dorothee Mields, soprano; Alex Potter, alto; Guy Cutting, tenor; and Peter Kooij, bass.
I provide a bit of a review and a bit of a listening guide here, with links to my blog posts from previous years about these three cantatas. I did not grow up with any of these cantatas, they weren’t part of the repertoire my mother played on the turntable at home. I learned about them in the process of doing research and writing for this blog (and through other people, in the case of Cantata 127).
Cantata 127 Herr Jesu Christ, wahr’ Mensch und Gott
This cantata, written for today, the last Sunday before Lent, is a great choice for the start of a concert, because it immediately grabs you and draws you in. I already hold a special place in my heart for this music because of the soprano aria (beautifully sung here by Dorothee Mields) being performed at my mother’s funeral service in The Hague in 2010. But even without that, the work is in my all-time top 10. And I am not alone: Bach biographer Spitta called it “perhaps the most important” cantata, and it received “the most beautiful” qualification by Arnold Schering as well as Ton Koopman.
The cantata is part of Bach’s 1724/1725 cycle of chorale cantatas, and compared to all previous compositions in that cycle, this opening chorus is the most complex and intricate. Click on the link at the end of this paragraph to read why. I love hearing Collegium Vocale sing this. Dorothee Mields and Peter Kooij are fabulous in their arias, and I enjoy hearing and watching tenor Guy Cutting sing. He’s a new star in the Herreweghe firmament. The soprano aria is of course stunning, but what about that bass aria? Whether a foreshadowing of the St. Matthew Passion or a dramatic end to the series of chorale cantatas, Bach had clearly made “studies” for it in his previous three cantatas of that year. Read all about it in my blog post from 2018.
Cantata 138 Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz
I am so happy with the video recording from January 31, because it eliminates a dilemma for me. When I first wrote about this cantata (written for the 15th Sunday after Trinity in 1723), I wasn’t able to choose between Herreweghe’s recordings from 1992 and 2013, but I feel the video recording from this year is the clear winner! I love the inspired singing by all four soloists, but find Alex Potter’s singing in this cantata especially stunning. In his recitative (starting at 26:23), the combination of his understanding of the text and what he can do with his voice moves me deeply. So much that when the choir basses then follow with their beautiful entrance, I am close to tears. If you feel I’m getting too sentimental here, don’t worry. My blog post from 2016 is about completely different things: a European children’s animation, a possible, “movie script scenario,” explanation of the relatively simple text in this cantata, and Bach’s recycling of the bass aria.
Cantata 161 Komm, du süße Todesstunde
What a wonderful surprise that Herreweghe included this cantata (written for the 16th Sunday after Trinity but also for the Purification of Mary/Presentation of Jesus at the Temple, which was February 2) in this program. It is such a beautiful and moving composition. In my blog post from this past fall I could only describe how in 2019, when programming the All Souls program for the Netherlands Bach Society, Alex Potter had the brilliant idea to combine the recorders from the Weimar version of this cantata with the sung chorale Herzlich tut mich verlangen nach einem sel’gen End from the Leipzig version. What a delight to see that Herreweghe had adopted this exact idea for this performance in Antwerp, and that we can thus hear and see Alex Potter and Dorothee Mields perform this opening movement together. I love all the singing and playing in this cantata very much, but for me, the tenor aria can’t rival the magic of Shunske Sato accompanying Thomas Hobbs in those All Souls concerts by the Netherlands Bach Society in 2019 (as described here).
A Waterfall in a Rocky Landscape by Jacob van Ruisdael, probably 1660-70. Oil on canvas. The National Gallery, London, UK.
It is now the 24th Sunday after Trinity. Depending on the year, this Sunday can fall anywhere in the month of November, from the 1st to the 26th day of the month.
In 1723, during Bach’s first year in Leipzig, this day fell on November 7, with two more Sundays to go before Advent. For that day Bach wrote the apocalyptic Cantata 60, O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort! I have the best memories of doing the research about this cantata, from finding out how Bach’s music had inspired a lithographer in 1914 as well as Alban Berg in 1935, to being pleasantly surprised by Robin Blaze’s marvelous singing on the Bach Collegium Japan recording. Read it all in my post from 2016.
The next year, in 1724, this Sunday fell November 19, the penultimate Sunday before Advent that year. For that Sunday Bach wrote Cantata 26 Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig. When I first listened to this cantata in 2017, I labeled it “The Water Cantata” in my head, because there is moving water in both the tenor aria and the bass aria, from a rushing brook to a stormy white water river. The combination of bass voice with the three oboes and bassoon even made me think of Hades in Monteverdi’s Orfeo. I remember finding it special, all that water, especially since I had just come back from a short visit to Yosemite National Park with my family, where I had admired waterfalls and rivers. There is now an excellent J.S. Bach Foundation video of this cantata available on YouTube. You can really hear the water move, especially in their terrific rendition of the tenor aria. Find it here. Soloists are Susanne Frei soprano; Antonia Frey, alto; Daniel Johannsen; tenor; Klaus Häger, bass.
Find the score for Cantata 26 here, and the texts & translations here.
Weekly Cantata 