Luogo e data di registrazione		Beguinenhofkerk, Sint Truiden (Belgium) - 5-6 December 2011
	Registrazione: live / studio		studio
	Recording Staff		Eckhard Steiger
	Prima Edizione CD		ACCENT - ACC 25315 - (1 CD) - durata 71' 16" - (p) 2011 (c) 2012 - DDD
	Note		-

COMMENTARY on the cantatas presented here These are four Cantatas which Bach wrote for the last four Sundays before Advent: BWV 52 “Falsche Welt, dir traue ich nicht!” [False world, I trust thee not!] - 23rd Sunday after Trinity. BWV 60 “O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort” [O Eternity, thou thunderous word] - 24th Sunday after Trinity. BWV 116 “Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ” [Thou Prince of Peace, Lord Jesus Christ] - 25th Sunday after Trinity. BWV 140 “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme” [Awaken ye, the watchman calls us] - 27th Sunday after Trinity. There are 27, usually 26, Sundays between “Trinity” (Trinity Sunday, the Sunday after Pentecost) and the beginning of Advent. Only exceptionally, when Easter falls between the 22nd and the 26th March, is there a 27th Sunday. During J. S. Bach’s Leipzig years, this was the case only twice: 1731 and 1742. The Cantata BWV 140, for this 27th Sunday was in fact first performed in Leipzig in 1731 and probably in 1742 as well. We have performed this extra Cantata in preference to BWV 70 (“Wachet! betet! betet! Wachet!”) (“Watch! Pray! Pray! Watch!”), which Bach wrote in 1723 for the 26th Sunday. We will catch up with BWV 70 later, so that our series, which is intended to contain a Cantata for each Sunday of the ecclesiastical year, will not lack this Sunday. The texts of the last Cantatas before Advent recorded here, are primarily based, as might be expected, on the Gospel readings for these Sundays, all of which are taken from the Gospel according to St. Matthew. In these fragments a sterner, warning tone can be heard. As soon as Advent begins (the start of the ecclesiastical year!), the texts adopt a much more positive tone, because now the Saviour is expected, who will turn away all evil from us, if we put our trust in Him. “Falsche Welt, dir traue ich nicht!”, BWV52 (for the 23rd Sunday after Trinity), was first performed on the 21st November 1726. This is the last of the three cantatas, which Bach wrote for the 23rd Sunday (1715 in Weimar, then in Leipzig in 1724 and 1726). The reading from St. Matthew (Ch. 22, 15-22) for this Sunday contains the passage in which the Pharisees ask Jesus a clever trick question, whether it was lawful to give tribute to Caesar, to which Jesus replies, “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s”– an answer that was perfect and indisputable. The ever anonymous poet of this 1726 Cantata is outraged by the cunning and hypocrisy of the Pharisees. He urges the Christians, in contrast, to lead a righteous life and to renounce the falsehood (“sich der Falschheit ab zu kehren”); that is his main theme. How often in cantata poetry the first half (in this case, the recitativo secco No. 2 and the Aria No. 3) treats the theme from rather a negative viewpoint, while in the second half positive statements prevail. (Already in the B-part of the Aria No. 3 the affekt becomespositive). In this cantata Bach gives the entire poem to the soprano. (Only the final Chorale by Adam Reusner, 1533, is sung by a vocal quartet). The decision to use the soprano voice for everything is perhaps explained by the fact that here the poet speaks throughout in the first person - as someone who is anxious and dejected and looks for support. Traditionally those emotions are more connected with a woman. The soprano, even though with Bach it was mostly sung by a boy, is thus in this case the most suitable interpreter of the role, just as, in other cases, the Voice of God is always entrusted to the bass. One could also take it that the poet here allows ‘the soul’, or the ‘bride’ (in the mystical sense), to express her feelings of dejection; in this case anyway a soprano was usual. The poem starts immediately with a long monologue recitative that could never be set as an aria or a chorus. So Bach places here, as the opening movement, a festive instrumental Sinfonia (No. 1), with oboes, bassoons, horns and strings. This is an earlier version of the first movement of the Brandenburg Concerto no 1. Why, in 1726, Bach did not reuse the already existing 1721 ‘Brandenburg version’ but reverted to an even earlier version is not documented. (Note in passing that in this earlier version of the piece no part for violino piccolo or for the violoncello is to be found). Bach first made this fine modification of the treble and bass parts in his revision of the complete Concertos for the Margrave of Brandenburg. Why exactly this piece as an ‘Overture’? A possible clue could be that in this concerto movement, right at the beginning, the two horns contribute a rather strange sequence to the developing music of the other instruments, which Bach could have easily left out, without altering the character of the piece. In fact it sounds like a totally unexpected hunting call in triplets without any organic relation to the context – completely remote and sounding like a strange collage! Did Bach want to draw a picture of falsehood with a false element? Who knows? Perhaps I am trying unnecessarily to discover a definite reason. In his later Cantatas Bach very often used a Sinfonia as an introduction, taken from earlier pieces. Probably he did not focus very consciously on the related cantata texts. In the first place these Sinfonias possibly served to give the service a greater solemnity, especially when there was no suitable vocal movement capable of taking over this function. After this Sinfonia the sung part of the Cantata begins. The soprano starts with a long and passionate Recitativo secco (No. 2), in which the poet presents his pessimistic feelings. Everything in this world is hypocrisy and falsehood, “O jämmerlicher Stand!” (O wretched state!) (at the same time he shows his familiarity with the Old Testament, in which he refers us to an example of this falsehood: Joab kills Abner in Samuel II. Ch. 3, v 27). There follows an Aria (No. 3), with string accompaniment: ”Immerhin, immerhin / Wenn ich gleich verstoßen bin” (However, however, / If I am immediately rejected). The poet now sums up: this false world is my enemy, God is my friend. Bach bases the theme and rhythm of this aria on the poet’s words. The regular, imitative opening motif of the violins (an ascending broken scale) clearly shows the alienation, the rejection. On the other hand, after the string introduction, the soprano calls out to us the word “Immerhin”, as directly as possible. The rhythmic shape of the ‘Immerhin’ then becomes the second building block of the whole aria. Everything is exclusively in the minor. The only section of text, in which the major key is briefly used, is “O, so bleibt doch Gott mein Freund / der es redlich mit mir meint” (Oh, if God still remains my friend / it really means everything to me). The word ‘Freund’ is later illustrated by Bach with an appropriate vocalise, in combination with the two previously mentioned building blocks of the piece. So at this point everything comes together. After this aria any pessimism fades away, and in the following Recitativo (No. 4) ... ”Gott ist getreu / er will, er kann mich nicht verlassen” (God is true / He will, He can not forsake me) the “Gott ist getreu” is heard right at the beginning as a kind of ‘arioso’. It is repeated once more in the middle of the recitative, and appears at the end three more times in dialogue with the basso continuo. The following Aria (No. 5) (“Ich halt es mit dem lieben Gott / Die Welt mag nur alleine bleiben” – I am beside my dear God / The world, however, may just be left) celebrates the rediscovered trust in God in a delightful way. The soprano is framed by three oboes and the basso continuo, in a continuous ensemble. The three oboes play together the whole time in the same three-part rhythm. It is natural to see in this the Trinitas of the Christian God. That no other instruments were involved (apart from the basso continuo) illustrates quite clearly the intimate connection of the soul (soprano) with her beloved God. In the Aria No. 3, which is about the ‘false world’, the strings were active. Yet here the ‘false world’ is abandoned and the strings are replaced by oboes. Wind instruments were often associated with the spiritual, here ‘spirit’ also means breathing! What is remarkable about this aria is that Bach sets the solemn text like a noble dance. The soprano sings for the most part syllabically, so that the text can be understood very clearly, and only the words “(ich) halt (es)” und “(lieben) Gott” are given a long sustained note. This is no coincidence. In the B-part of the aria, with the lines “Also kann ich selber Spott / mit den falschen Zungen treiben” (Thus can I myself ridicule the false tongues), the soprano moves completely away from the framework with some faster figures, while the Trinitas oboes steadfastly continue on their own way. With this the poet ends his Cantata poem. As a closing Chorale (No. 6) Bach uses the first verse of “In dich hab ich gehoffet, Herr” (In Thee is my hope, Lord) (1533, Adam Reusner) in a simple four-part setting. The vocal quartet is reinforced by all the instruments which took part in the Sinfonia. “O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort”, BWV 60 (for the 24th Sunday after Trinity, the 27th November, 1723) Bach composed two cantatas for this opening text – BWV 60 is chronologically the first of the two, and the second, (BWV 20), followed seven months later, on the 11th June 1724, the First Sunday after Trinity. It has already appeared in Volume 7 of our series (ACC 25307). The Cantata title is the opening text of the hymn “O Ewigkeit, O Donnerwort” (O Eternity, O Thunderous word) by Johann Rist from 1642. Where Cantata BWV 20 presents all twelve verses of the poem (it is a so-called Chorale Cantata), in BWV 60, recorded here, only the first verse is used, and in a very unusual way, as we shall see. The Gospel for this 24th Sunday after Trinity deals with the episode of the ‘raising from the dead of the daughter of Jairus’ in St. Matthew (Ch. 9, 8-26). The librettist, unknown as ever, does not go into the miracles of Jesus, but takes the opportunity to reflect on his own death and resurrection. He chooses the dialogue for his dramatic form. First ‘fear’ and ‘hope’ stand one against the other, and later the voice of God himself speaks of fear. The action of the Cantata was set by Bach for alto (Fear), tenor (Hope) and bass (Vox Dei) with the participation of one horn, two oboes d’amore, strings and basso continuo. The soprano only appears in the four-part closing Chorale. The first movement is headed “Aria” (No. 1). The piece, however, also contains, next to the actual solo voice, the chorale of the title as a cantus firmus. It is a strange duet – neither a normal aria nor a normal chorale. At the beginning we hear 13 bars of instrumental introduction, in which, above a long-held bass pedal note (Eternity!), the upper strings express the thunder with repeated (at first deep) notes. Against that the oboes make rather melodic interjections with breaks in between, sometimes imitative, then again in parallel thirds or sixths. It could be thought that, with these horizontal interjections, Bach was sketching the moving cloud cover. (Such associations must not be made, yet personally, and to my increasing astonishment, I see how Bach gets information from the texts, which he often quite schematically, or even naïvely, translates into compositional elements). After the long pedal note the instrumental bass takes up the repeated ‘thunder notes’ of the violins and viola. In bar 13 the bass becomes calm again, and the strings play piano. Then, in bar 14, the cantus firmus enters with the first line of text (sung by the alto – Fear – with the horn doubling). The number 14 is one of the clearest “Bach-numbers” (that is B + A + C + H, in figures 2 + 1 + 3 + 8). Who knows whether there is not also a conscious allusion here, as if Bach wanted to indicate how much he associated himself with these opening words. Under this cantus firmus opening the instruments continue with the elements already described, changing continuously. After an interlude of six bars the second line of the Chorale follows, and, after an even shorter interlude, the third line. Only then the tenor (Hope) begins his aria with the words “Herr, ich warte auf dein Heil” (”Lord, I wait for Thy Salvation”: a quotation from Genesis Ch. 49.18 - also Psalm 119, v. 166). These are his only words. During the eight remaining lines of this very pessimistic Chorale verse, this same contrasting and hopeful message from Genesis is heard continuously. On the “warte” the tenor almost always sings long sustained notes or longer vocalises, which illustrates the duration of the waiting. The whole instrumental introduction is later repeated as an epilogue. There follows a Recitativo (No. 2) for alto and tenor. Fear (alto) again loses itself even further in dark thoughts about the pains of death and “der Sünden große Schuld” (of the great guilty sins). On the other hand Hope (tenor) speaks another language from its point of view: I offer up my life to God, “Er gibt ein Ende den Versuchungsplagen” (He puts an end to the torments of temptation). As always, Bach shows himself here a master of recitative. Particularly vivid in the second intervention of Fear is the Andante on “martert diese Glieder” (tortures these limbs). The response of the long tenor vocalise with continuo on “ertragen” (endure) is the perfect counterbalance. The Aria (No. 3) is a duet, accompanied by a solo oboe d‘amore and a solo violin. Fear and Hope (alto and tenor) talk to each other, without any real dialogue in the sense of a fruitful exchange of ideas. The listener will determine for himself which words correspond best to his feelings. The two solo instruments clearly show the different layers of thought. The oboe theme is obviously connected with Fear, and the violin, with its ascending and descending scales, certainly illustrates the opening text of Hope: “Mich wird des Heilands Hand bedecken” (The hand of the Saviour will protect me). The predominantly dotted rhythm of the continuo plainly belongs to the world of Fear: “Mein letztes Lager will mich schrecken” (My deathbed wants to terrify me). When finally Fear asserts “Das offne Grab sieht greulich aus” (The open grave looks hideous) and Hope continues with “es wird mir doch ein Friedenshaus” (It is for me a house of peace) Bach shows us das Grab in the obbligato instruments up to six times, with three clear notes. Between two equal notes at the same pitch there is another played short, a fourth lower – the image of a pit between two borders? At least that is how it occurred spontaneously to me. In Recitativo (No. 4), Fear is no longer confronted by Hope, but their dark thoughts about death and hell are interrupted by the Voice of God himself (the bass). After the first part of the recitative sung by Fear (“Der Tod bleibt doch der menschlichen Natur verhasst, und reißet fast die Hoffnung ganz zu Boden” - Death still remains odious to human nature, and drags almost all hope to the ground), the Voice of God, out of nowhere, suddenly pronounces, in a peaceful, singing manner (‘arioso’ is required by Bach), a sentence from the Apocalypse (14:13) “Selig sind die Toten” (Blessed are the dead). This theatrical divine interjection is repeated after each of the ensuing thoughts from the still depressed Fear. In each of these three interventions this is the whole Apocalypse quotation, until the third time it is finally completed: “Selig sind die Toten / die in dem Herrn sterben / von nun an” (Blessed are the dead / who die in the Lord / from now on). This last (complete) arioso section ends with a wonderful vocalise on „sterben“, which is followed by a simple ”von nun an”. This third divine intervention finally convinces the rigid Fear: ”Wohlan! soll ich von nun an selig sein / so stelle dich, O Hoffnung, wieder ein / Mein Leib mag ohne Furcht im Schlafe ruhn / der Geist kann einen Blick in jene Freude tun.”“(Well then! from now on will I be blessed / so take thy place again, O Hope / My body may rest asleep without fear / the spirit can catch a glimpse of that joy). Thus, ultimately, the “Donnerwort” has overcome the fear. Without another aria the closing Chorale (No. 5) follows, which Bach takes from another hymn: “Es ist genug” (It is enough) by Joachim Burmeister (1662). The original beginning (“Es ist genug” : a, b c# d ) Bach ‚distorts‘ melodically in an unexpected way to ‘a, b c# d#’! The resulting, incredibly strange tritone motif just intensifies the bitterness of the text “es ist genug”. When, with the third line of the text (“Mein Jesus kömmt” – My Jesus comes) the same distorted phrase recurs, it gets another harmonisation and achieves, it seems to me, a quite different effect. Jesus will end the misery of this world with his power, He will crush the evil. On the third from last line of the Chorale, “mein großer Jammer bleibt danieden” “(My great misery remains behind me) Bach, with a chromatic descending bass line, then gives us one of his boldest harmonic phrases, (the misery behind me?). Here the extreme limit of correct four-part harmony is achieved (or even exceeded?). “Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ”, BWV 116 This Chorale Cantata was written for the 26th November 1724 (the 25th Sunday after Trinity in this year). It is based on a seven-verse hymn by Jacob Ebert (1601). The anonymous text editor used verses 1 and 7 of the old hymn verbatim, and reworked the second, third and fourth verses (they are Nos. 2, 3 and 4 of the Cantata). The fifth and sixth verses he reworked as well, combining them in a single paraphrase (No. 5 of the Cantata). The Gospel reading for this Sunday is St. Matthew 24, 15-28 – certainly not a pleasant text. It is very worthwhile to read it again before listening to this Cantata. Matthew talks about the abomination of desolation (as announced by the prophet Daniel), which mankind will meet prior to the Day of the Last Judgment. A disaster will then occur greater than any mankind has yet known, warns Daniel. The Cantata text writer, however, has hardly incorporated allusions from the St. Matthew reading. He follows, as I said, the hymn, in which, above all, forgiveness, and especially help in distress, is prayed for, during all these terrible events that we can encounter in our lives – especially for protection in times of war (No. 5). The work is scored for two oboes (because of the chosen key of A major these are oboes d‘amore here), strings, four-part vocal ensemble and basso continuo. A ‘corno’ (horn) is brought in for the 1st and 6th movements, to strengthen the Chorale melody in the soprano. The Cantata begins with a full-scale tutti movement (No. 1) with a pronounced concertante character. In the instrumental introduction, before the entry in bar 16 of the four singers with the first line of the Chorale, there is a very active dialogue between the basso continuo and the other parts. The eye is especially caught by the the numerous rising motifs and bridge passages, alternately in the upper parts and the continuo. I believe these are inspired by the last line of this verse: our cry to Jesus’ Father, – (a prayer to heaven, thus upward). The continuous very agile concertante figures of the first violins illustrate well the oppressive difficulties which afflict mankind. This is in strong contrast to the melodious and homophonic choral singing of the two first lines, “Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ / Wahr’ Mensch und wahrer Gott” (Thou Prince of Peace, Lord Jesus Christ / Truly man and truly God). The instruments continue their concertante playing, and, after a long interlude, the tenor, the bass and the alto climb up one after the other to the words of the third line, “Ein starker Nothelfer du bist” (A powerful helper art Thou), with the same motif that we heard at the beginning of the movement from the oboes and strings. The fugatolike successive entries of this text illustrate well God‘s everlasting help. The fourth line is also taken by the three lower voices with the same instrumental motif, in which there is a long, active vocalise on “leben” but a long, held note on “Tod”. This is another example of how Bach carefully derives the elements of his composition from the words of the poem. So it is the same in the next two short lines: “Drum wir allein / im Namen dein” (So we alone / in Thy Name), where he sets the words ‘Drum’ and ‘wir allein’ literally alone, sung homophonically by the three lower voices. The final line of the verse is then, like the first two, simply and clearly presented by the four singers all together. This monumental movement is rounded off with a repeat of the whole introduction. This is followed by an Aria (No. 2) for alto, with obbligato oboe d‘amore and continuo in the Baroque reworking of the second original verse of the Chorale. “Ach, unaussprechlich ist die Not” (Ah, unspeakable is the distress), sings the poet. The cry ‘Ach’ in the introduction is taken by the oboe as the initial motif. Its three ascending notes, rapidly following each other, (f#, g#, a), reproduces perfectly what the voice does with an impassioned cry on this ‘Ach’. After the highest note of ‘Ach’ the melodic line falls. From this low point, it soars by the degrees of a diminished seventh chord, again upwards, in order then to sink once more in a pure triad sequence. So this theme reflects the great and passionate variety of the first line of the poem. In this movement the oboe and voice repeat themselves in widely different variations, but the instrumental bass does not do this at all, rather it repeats its own melodic line, which often expresses the upward surge, the distress of the soul. On ‘Not’ Bach from time to time writes a long sustained note, in the middle of the continuously running web; even ‘Angst’ gets a long, chromatically rising, line with a tremolo. This plaintive note is then imitated by the oboe d‘amore, which, throughout the piece, appears to strengthen and share the emotions of the singer. The basso continuo relinquishes its rather lyrical rôle only twice, in order to portray briefly, with a staccato arpeggio figure, the ‘Dräuen’ (the rage, the threat) of the ‘erzürnten Richters’ (angered judge). The alto clearly illustrates both words in a long vocalise. A short Recitativo (No. 3) for tenor contains the paraphrase of the original third verse of the Chorale. As with several recitatives in other cantatas, Bach writes here, as a brief introduction in the basso continuo, the beginning of the chorale melody (“Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ”), clearly recognisable as a signal. After this the tenor sings his first line (“Gedenke doch, o Jesu, dass du noch ein Fürst des Friedens heißest” – Remember Thou, O Jesus, that Thou art also called a Prince of Peace) in a recitativo secco as usual, supported by simple harmony. This process is then repeated, with the bass playing the Chorale opening again in a new key, before the tenor concludes with the question “will sich dein Herz auf einmal von uns wenden?” (will Thine heart suddenly turn away from us?). The following, touching Terzetto (No. 4) for soprano, tenor and bass, with basso continuo, is the paraphrase of the fourth original verse “Ach, wir bekennen unsre Schuld” (Ah, we admit our guilt). The ‘Geduld’ (patience) and the ‘unermesslich Lieben’ (love beyond measure), about which the guilty man is asking here, are perceived throughout the entire composition as an enigmatic idea. In this long and uniformly extended piece an incredibly patient and almost immeasurable peacefulness predominates. None of the three singers even raises the voice individually, everything flows along horizontally and with restraint. The singers sing continually as a unit of three – one could almost believe that Bach wished to compare the divine Trinity with a human reflection. As an introduction the basso continuo sets out the coming mood. The rhythmic figure of four notes (syllables) is repeated six times, which we will hear  onstantly in the vocal prosody during the whole Terzetto, for example, in “und bitten nichts “ (and ask for nothing) or also with “als um Geduld” (save Thy patience). The basic structure of the piece is AB-A. An interlude (a transposition of the introduction) separates the A-part from the B part. Here then the new text, “Es brach ja dein erbarmend Herz” (It broke even Thy merciful heart), is brought together (instead of one after the other) by the three singers in rather a painful harmonic twist over an exceptionally homophonic pedal note. In the process ‘Herz’ gets a long sustained note in the two highest voices. With “als der Gefallnen Schmerz” (when the pain of the fallen) the passage becomes a long chromatic moment, and ‘Schmerz’ now gets a similar long sustained note (this time in the two lower voices), resulting in a painful affekt. When Bach repeats this B-text once more about twenty bars later, it is indeed done in the same way, but on ‘Gefallnen’ there follows this time a more complex vocalise – a descending semiquaver figure (the ‘Fallen’!) in all three voices. This leads into a long, extended ‘Schmerz’, now in all three voices. A replay of the complete introduction leads us to the much expanded da capo of the A-part. Then the full introduction is heard for the third time as an epilogue. I would like to describe this unique movement as a ‘spiritual madrigal’; there are not many comparable pieces in Bach‘s works. The alto, who was not used in the Terzetto, follows now Recitativo accompagnato (No. 5) with the reworked fifth and sixth verses of the old Chorale. The poet beseeches God for mercy and understanding during the difficult trials. Expressly “Friede” (peace) is sought “für ein erschreckt geplagtes Land” (for a frightened and troubled land). The cantata concludes with simple four-part Chorale (No. 6) with the seventh original and last verse of the hymn of J. Ebert from 1601: “Erleucht auch unser Sinn und Herz” (Enlighten also our soul and heart). “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme”, BWV 140 for the 27th Sunday after Trinity (25th November 1731) As mentioned, not every year has 27 Sundays between Pentecost and Advent. Bach only experienced this twice during his Leipzig period (1723-1750). So one may reasonably assume that he was particularly pleased to have to compose a cantata for this Sunday, which does not occur every year. He probably also repeated the work on the next occasion (only eleven years later!). The readings for the 27th Sunday follow those of the previous Sundays. The First Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians urges them to be ready for the Day of the Last Judgment, and St. Matthew Ch. 25 (1-13) relates the parable of the ten virgins, who were invited to his wedding by the bridegroom. Five of them were so foolish as to bring no oil for their lamps in case it would be needed at night. The five others, however, had been wise enough to think of it. Then, when the bridegroom does not arrive until the night, the first five ask their friends to share their oil with them, but they refuse and hurry away to the feast. The foolish young women only now go in search of oil and so arrive too late for the wedding. There the bridegroom denies them entry: “I know you not, who are you?” This story is intended to show how man should always be prepared to meet Jesus (the bridegroom), that is to be ready for the moment of the Last Judgment. Thus the parable fits perfectly into the series of warnings about the end of time that, time and again, we find for the last few Sundays before Advent. The picture of the bridegroom in the parable from St. Matthew was already present in the Song of Songs, that part of the Old Testament not recognised by some branches of Christianity. At the same time this picture also describes the bridge to Advent, when Jesus (the groom) will arrive. In addition, this Cantata is a Chorale Cantata, like BWV 116 discussed above. Bach had not quite finished his year-long cycle of Chorale Cantatas in 1725 (started on 1st Sunday after Trinity, 1724, with BWV 20 „O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort“), and he attempted to complete it in later years. The Cantata BWV 140 of 1731 is one of the later Chorale Cantatas. The original, on which the anonymous author leant, is initially similar to a hymn by Ph. Nicolai (1599). This has only three verses. The text editor, also anonymous, decided to retain all three of them verbatim (movements 1, 4 and 7), and then to add four new fragments of text (nos. 2, 3, 5 and 6), in which he sings, in his own way, of the mystical union of the bridegroom with his bride. Unlike most of the Chorale Cantatas, there is here no ‘reworking’ of older verses, but the poet has fitted in an appropriate complementary structure. The work is laid out on a large scale, with a festive instrumentation: besides the vocal quartet it includes a horn, three oboes (two “normal” and a Taille, that is an Alto-Oboe), a bassoon and strings with basso continuo. The violin group is provided with an important part for Violino piccolo, which increases the richness of sound from the whole. Movement No. 1 (Chorale) contains the 12 verses of the first Chorale strophe of 1599. It is presented by the singers in clearly separated sections. As in many other cases, in this piece the soprano sings the Chorale melody with long notes, doubled by the horn. (Incidentally it should be noted here that such a doubling, in the case of a setting of the vocal parts for choir, would really be unnecessary. So, is not such doubling, which occurs very often, an additional argument in favour of the one to a part performance?) At the beginning of the piece, with short staccato notes, the basso continuo emphasizes, strongly and continuously, the pace of the 3/4 time. Played alternately by the strings and winds, the upper instruments repeat a dotted rhythm, which is just as striking. Four bars later the rôles are reversed. The bass takes over the dotted rhythm, and the second violins and viola (alternating with the 2nd and 3rd oboes) play the staccato beats. At the same time an ascending motif, at first syncopated, awakens (“Wachet auf!”) in the 1st violin and piccolo violin, which play the entire ‘opening chorus’ in unison, in a lively dialogue with the dotted rhythm. After one bar the first oboe imitates the upper violins. The contrasting successive entries of this faster motif will be a main connecting thread for the instrumental setting throughout the piece. From time to time longer semiquaver passage work develops from this in the upper violins, sometimes discreetly joined by the first oboe, and supported by the continuo in regular quavers. During the whole course of the piece the entire ‘orchestra’ only uses alternately the building blocks mentioned above. After 16 bars the choral cantus firmus starts in the soprano and horn parts. Below this the alto, tenor and bass develop a motif, which is clearly derived from the beginning of the Chorale. After a few bars of instrumental interlude the second line of the Chorale text is heard: “Der Wächter sehr hoch auf der Zinne” (The watchman is very high on the ramparts). Bach cannot resist playing a simple game with this text. The lines of the three lower singers rise up with these words and hold a long note on high. In addition the first oboe and the upper violins present a similar line, while in the second violins and the second oboe the same line is even played briefly (almost for fun!) upside down (the watchman comes down again???). Bach, like an imaginative painter, uses every such available opportunity – and that only makes his music richer. The third line of the Chorale verse (“Wach auf, du Stadt Jerusalem”) (Awaken ye, thou city of Jerusalem), like the second, after the entry of some instrumental bars, has the cry of ‘Wach auf’ set homophonically, and repeatedly, so that it can not be ignored. The 12 lines of the verse should be read in four groups each of three lines. In order to make this division clear, Bach makes the interludes after each three lines considerably longer than usual. After the first three lines, the music (including the introduction) starts all over again from the beginning, but now to the words of the fourth, fifth and sixth lines, exactly as is the case in the old Chorale. After a new interlude (12 bars instead of 16) the next group of three lines (7, 8, 9) begins. On this occasion line 9 stands out, which contains only the word “Allelujah”. Here the alto, tenor and bass, for the only time, develop a faster motif, which (although somewhat hidden) contains the syncopated ‘awakening’ quaver figure of the upper violins from the fifth bar. In the last three lines (10, 11, 12) it should be noticed how Bach, at the beginning of the last line, (“Ihr müsset ihm entgegen gehen” – You must go to meet Him), allows the “Ihr” to be called out twice on its own, and homophonically, before he goes on with the movement. Thereby, He meets us, the listeners, with greater certainty: You, yes, that is us! After the last line, the whole introduction is repeated as an epilogue. This great movement could almost be described as a novel. Yet, in the end, this is only a triviality, because the power and beauty of the composition is fantastic, even without this description. Bach goes far beyond the finest analysis. In the simple Recitativo secco (No. 2) for tenor the Baroque text editor announces the arrival of the bridegroom, and the “Töchter Zions” (daughters of Zion) – in the broadest sense, all of us – are invited to the wedding feast (as mentioned, on the threshold of Advent!). In the following Aria Duetto (No. 3) the poet presents the soul (soprano) and the bridegroom (bass). In the A-part of the text the soul asks “Wenn kömmst du, mein Heil?” When comest thou, my salvation? To which the groom replies, “ich komme, dein Teil” (I come, as part of thee) and the soul replies, “Ich warte mit brennendem Öle” (I wait with burning oil, an allusion to the reading from St. Matthew). In the B-section they both almost take the words from each other‘s mouth (the soul: “Eröffne den Saal zum himmlischen Mahle” (Open the hall to the heavenly banquet); the groom: “Ich eröffne den Saal zum himmlischen Mahle” (I open the hall to the heavenly banquet), then again, the soul, “Komm, Jesu” (Come, Jesus), and the groom at the end: “Komm, liebliche Seele” (Come, sweet soul)). In this duet of great beauty we are witnessing the preparation for the mystical union. It almost seems to us that we hear the Song of Songs. Bach added to this duet with basso continuo a lyrical and virtuoso part for Violino piccolo, which, throughout the whole piece, joins both lovers together like a tendril with varied ornamental lines. As an introduction, the little violin straight away plays the opening lines of the soul and the bridegroom one after the other, and then develops its embellishments, which will continue to accompany the dialogue. The thought occurred to me while playing that Bach had chosen the Violino piccolo instead of the normal violin in order to fly around almost like a little cupid in this duetto. (Perhaps I exaggerate here, but less and less can I escape the impression that Johann Sebastian never shied away from such Baroque, theatrical associations, not even in his church works. Unlike today, there was at that time no absolute separation between the secular and the spiritual. This can, for example, be seen from the fact that Bach reshaped many of his ‘secular’ cantatas, often with really minimal changes to the music, for his ‘spiritual’ cantatas.) The opening motif of the Duetto is very reminiscent of the famous alto aria with solo violin in the St. Matthew Passion “Erbarme dich”, in which this aria theme also leans clearly on the beginning of the 4th Sonata (in C minor) for violin and obbligato harpsichord. The two characters have a musical dialogue with each other in an affekt of elegance and intimacy. Some striking rhetorical beauties should particularly be mentioned: the repeated long ‘extensions’ on “Ich warte” in the soprano; then, at the beginning of the B-section, on “(er)öffne” in both voices, which now turns the opening motif upside down, clearly suggesting the invitation to ‘leave open’. Also in this piece the entire introduction of the piccolo violin with basso continuo is repeated as an epilogue. There follows (No. 4), the second original verse of the Chorale by Nicolai (1599), “Zion hört die Wächter singen” (Zion hears the watchmen singing), set for unison strings (both violins and the viola), tenor and basso continuo. After the introduction for the strings, the tenor sings – the one well separated from the other – the twelve lines of this stanza from the Chorale, sparingly decorated. From the beginning the combined violins and viola form a delightful, narrative counterpart (the piccolo violin is silent, because the part is too low for this smaller sister pitched a minor third higher). This movement, because of the inspired and simple character of the motifs in the string section, has become very famous - once heard, it long remains in the ear. Perhaps Bach, in his own way, wanted here to relate to a traditional folk song – for instance the song of the watchmen, who heard the daughters of Zion? This conjecture appears plausible to me. The composer himself later used this pure three-part movement (in which each voice is absolutely independent of the other two) as the first piece in his six “Schübler Chorales” for organ (BWV 645). The No. 5 is a Recitativo accompagnato for bass (the bridegroom) and strings. The author continues the scene of the mystical union. The bride is now invited into his chambers by the bridegroom, where she will forget the fear and the pain endured. In the subsequent Duett (No. 6) the soul seals the union with the bridegroom (“Mein Freund ist mein, und ich bin sein” – My friend is mine, and I am his) with obbligato oboe and basso continuo. Now a little Cupid flies around no longer (the Violino piccolo), but the Holy Spirit himself is there (Spiritus – breath, so a wind instrument, the oboe). The piece displays a noble excitement, a great internal joy. At the beginning of the A-section, strangely enough, the distribution of the text between the two characters is somewhat arbitrary, because logically, the soul would have to sing both of first two lines (“Mein Freund ist mein, und ich bin sein”) instead of the second line being left to the bridegroom – unless the bridegroom would sing “und ich bin dein” (and I am thine). In the original text of the Song of Songs, from which the poet quotes here, it is clearly “sein” – not “dein”. Here perhaps we encounter a dilemma that Bach, just this once and against the text so to speak, has resolved in favour of the music, contrary to the spirit of the words anyway, and immediately allows the dialogue to begin. One could, however, also argue that in this deep union the difference between ‘mein’ and ‘dein’ has really disappeared, so that the bridegroom can simply continue or undertake the sentence of the soul. The listener will form his own opinion about this. The fact is that in the B-part the simple logic re-enters (here the poet speaks again, without being hindered by any verbatim quotation in the text!) - both characters speak clearly in their own names (soul: “Ich will mit dir” etc. – bridegroom: “Du sollst mit mir” etc). In this duet, two-part instrumental passages (the introduction, the interludes, the epilogue) alternate seamlessly with four-part writing (this is when the soul and the bridegroom are also involved). Everything flows as if by itself, always inventively fresh. Let us note how Bach dwells longer on “Himmels Rosen” (heaven‘s roses), and “Wonne” (bliss) at the end of the B-section. It is as if he would like us, the listeners, to share in the heavenly joys for longer. This wonderful Cantata for the rare 27th Sunday ends (No. 7) with the original third verse of the old Chorale by Philipp Nicolai. It is set by Bach in simple four-part writing. The chorale melody is doubled very colourfully by the horn and Violino piccolo (in the upper octave). Why this piece is notated in the old fashioned way in minims, instead of the familiar crotchets, is not known. Perhaps Bach intentionally wanted to retain the archaic aspect, in order to increase the ‘eternal value’ of the old words, which describe for us the glory of the heavenly Jerusalem, and, at the end of the hymn, clearly point to Advent and even to Christmas: “Des sind wir froh / Io, io! / Ewig in dulci jubilo” (For this we are happy / Io, io! / Eternally in dulci jubilo). Sigiswald Kuijken Translation by Christopher Cartwright