With over 40 recordings to his name, it is his sensitive and intelligent performances
of Baroque repertoire that have stood out. He has a private voice studio in the
Washington DC area and is in demand as a visiting professor in many universities
throughout the United States.
It
is impossible to grasp the significance of J.S. Bach's musical achievements without
coming to terms with his Lutheran world view. Bach's personal library was filled
with theological works and Bible commentaries and his copious margin notes demonstrate
a determination to come to terms with all of it. Lutheranism encouraged Bach to
see himself in harness with the other ministers of the church not only as a worship-leader
and teacher but also as a prophet, connecting him to a tradition looking back
to King David dancing and singing before the Ark of the Covenant, which empowered
him to fill his music with limitless meanings and inferences. The proper role
of the complete church musician was to lead his listeners to a right view of God
and also, through God's eyes, to a truthful assessment of the human condition.
God's perfect world has suffered corruption through sin and part of Bach's mission
was to unmask that false world order. The two cantatas presented here, replete
with Good News and bad, show how far Bach was willing to exercise his art and
bend musical conventions in order to communicate his convictions.
The
Sinfonia to Cantata 49, Ich geh und suche mit Verlangen (I go and seek
with longing), originally formed the finale of a three-movement concerto, possibly
from Bach's Cöthen period. Later, in Leipzig, this became the model for the
first movement of the familiar Harpsichord Concerto, BWV 1053. Alfred Dürr
notes that the inclusion of a virtuoso concerto movement for organ in a sacred
cantata was perhaps compensation for the absence of a chorus and it also contributes
to the celebratory wedding character of this cantata, a dialogue between Christ,
the Groom, and the Church, his Bride.
Cantata
170, Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust, (Delightful rest, beloved pleasure
of the soul) was first performed on the 28th of July, 1726, the Sixth Sunday after
Trinity. Bach's task was to illuminate the prescribed readings of the day: Romans
6.3-11 (Through Christ's death the believer is dead to sin) and Matthew 5.20-26
(Righteousness comes through faith rather than observance of the Law). The libretto,
by George Christian Lehms, addresses these themes through the reflections of a
single, troubled believer and, appropriately, the personal nature of the message
is conveyed through the voice of a single alto soloist. After a pastoral aria
which contrasts the enduring pleasures of Godliness with the fleeting gratifications
of sin, a recitative contemplates how far man has strayed from God's perfect plan.
To illustrate his point, the second aria presents a vivid demonstration of musical
organizational depravity: unison violins and violas are enlisted to deliver the
somber bass line while the organ, its mighty pedals silenced, provides two drooping,
chromatic obbligato lines as the alto intones forlornly with no continuo support.
For Bach and his fellow congregants, this was the world turned upside down! After
a recitative in which the soloist considers an early exit from a world of wickedness,
the final aria rescues the beleaguered Christian as he flies up into the comforting
arms of Jesus. His joy is tempered somewhat by the prominent tritone (the dreaded
diabolus in musica) that initiates the main tune, illustrating God's power to
turn even the discord of Hell into the concord of Heaven.
The
Concerto for Oboe d'amore, Strings and Continuo in A major, BWV 1055 is
a reconstruction from the Concerto for Harpsichord, Strings and Continuo in A
major, BWV 1050. It is interesting to note that of all Bach's concertos for harpsichord,
only the 5th Brandenburg was originally conceived for that instrument. It is fortunate
indeed that the composer saw fit to arrange so many of those now-lost works for
his coffee house concerts in Leipzig since otherwise not a single concerto for
oboe or oboe d'amore would have come down to us. In common with so many of these
reconstructions, the present concerto demonstrates the advantage of assigning
the harpsichord's right hand to a sustaining instrument so that every note can
be given the full value and expression that Bach originally intended.
Cantata
54, Widerstehe doch der Sunde (Resist sin, indeed) was possibly from 1713,
also with a text by Lehms, who assigned it to the Third Sunday in Lent. The readings
for that day include Paul's appeal to lead a pure life (Ephesians 5.1-9) and a
warning from Jesus to keep it pure at all costs (Luke 11.14-28) but, in common
with most Weimar cantatas, it was suitable for any day of the liturgical year.
Bach nails the message in the very first bar: he characterizes sin by striking
the dominant seventh over a tonic pedal, an unwholesome and unprepared dissonant
effect. Painfully, through many wickedly attractive suspensions, the music struggles
into more consonant territory, thus representing the earnest effort of the believer
to separate himself from the Devil and strive toward Godliness. The ensuing recitative
is notable for the lurid harmonies describing the "empty shadow and whited
sepulcher" of sin's deception, segueing into an arioso in which the rapid
continuo line pictures the "sharp sword" of sin piercing body and soul.
The final aria further describes the menace of sin by employing a four-part fugue
with a subject that descends chromatically; but a swiftly running countersubject
shows the Devil beating a hasty retreat in the face of the devoted believer.
The
Sinfonia from Cantata 21, Ich hatte viel Bekummernis (I had much grief
in my heart), for the Third Sunday after Trinity, sets the somber mood for a grim
dialogue between Jesus and a soul burdened with doubts. The exact origin of the
work is obscure, but the evidence shows that Bach adapted it for many performances,
including, possibly, as part of an application for an organist position in Hamburg.
The
brief Sinfonia that begins the second half of Cantata 76, Die Himmel erzählen
die Ehre Gottes (The heavens are telling the glory of God), is scored for oboe
d'amore, viola da gamba and continuo. It sounds very much like a part of a typical
sonata da chiesa whose other movements have been lost, unless those "lost"
movements are not in fact part of Bach's Organ Trio Sonata, BWV 528, which opens
with this very movement, scored for two manuals and pedal.
The
lovely aria Schlage doch, gewünschte Stunde, BWV 53 (Strike then thou,
O blessed hour) is now thought to have been composed by Georg Melchior Hoffmann
(c. 1679-1715) who studied law in Leipzig, played keyboard in the Collegium Musicum
under Georg Philipp Telemann, and assumed the leadership of that ensemble when
Telemann left. (J.S. Bach also directed this ensemble from 1729-1739). Although
only a fraction of his music has survived, Hoffman was a greatly respected organist
and composer and, in addition to BWV 53, two other of his works were mistakenly
attributed to J.S. Bach: BWV 189 and Anh. 21. An interesting feature of the present
aria is the use of handbells, instruments never specified in any of J.S. Bach's
extant works.
©
2014 Steve Mullany
Steve
Mullany is a flutist, recorder player, composer, arranger, co-founder of the Columbia
Recorder Quartet and, for over forty years, an arranger, performer, and admirer
of the music of J.S. Bach.