1 CD - ACC 25301 - (p) 2005

KANTATEN FÜR DAS GANZE KIRCHENJAHR













ADVENTSZEIT
BWV
ADVENT Volume
1. Advent

61
Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland
9


36
Schwingt freudig euch empor
9


62
Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland
9
4. Advent

132
Bereitet die Wege, bereitet die Bahn!
9






WEIHNACHTSZEIT
BWV
CHRISTMASTIDE Volume
1. Weihnachtstag
91
Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ 14
2. Weihnachtstag
57
Selig ist der Mann
14
3. Weihnachtstag
151
Süßer Trost, mein Jesus kömmt
14
1. Sonntag nach Weihnachten

122
Das neugeborne Kindelein 14
Neujahr
16
Herr Gott, dich loben wir
4
1. Sonntag nach Neujahr
153
Schau, lieber Gott, wie meine Feind
4






EPIPHANIASZEIT
BWV
EPIPHANY SEASON
Volume
Epiphanias
65
Sie werden aus Saba alle kommen
4
1. Sonntag nach Epiphanias
154
Mein liebster Jesus ist verloren
4
2. Sonntag nach Epiphanias
13
Meine Seufzer, meine Tränen
8
3. Sonntag nach Epiphanias
73
Herr, wie du willt, so schicks mit mir
8
4. Sonntag nach Epiphanias
81
Jesus schläft, was soll ich hoffen?
8
Mariä Reinigung

82
Ich habe genug
3






VOR-PASSION
BWV
PRE-LENTEN SEASON
Volume
Septuagesimæ
144
Nimm, was dein ist, und gehe in
8
Sexagesimæ
18
Gleichwie der Regen und Schnee vom Himmel fällt
6
Estomihi
23
Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn
6






PASSIONSZEIT
BWV
PASSIONTIDE Volume
Invocavit
1
Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern
6
Oculi
54
Wiederstehe doch der Sünde
17
Palmarum
182
Himmelskönig, sei willkommen
18






ÖSTERLICHE FREUDENZEIT

BWV
EASTERTIDE Volume
Ostersonntag
249
Kommt, eilet und laufet ihr fl#chtigen F#ße
13
2. Osterfesttag
6
Bleib bei uns, denn es will Abend werden
13
3. Osterfesttag
134
Ein Herz, das seinen Jesum lebend weiß
17
Quasimodogeniti
67
Halt im Gedächtnis Jesum Christ
11
Misericordias Domini

85
Ich bin ein guter Hirt
11
Jubilate
12
Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen
11
Cantate
108
Es ist euch gut, daß ich hingehe
10
Rogate
86
Wahrlich, wahrlich, ich sage euch
10
Ascensio
11
Lobet Gott in seinen Reichen
10
Exaudi
44
Sie werden euch in den Bann tun
10
1. Pfingstfesttag

34
O ewiges Feuer, o Ursprung der Liebe
16
2. Pfingstfesttag
173
Erhöhtes Fleisch und Blut
16
3. Pfingstfesttag
184
Erwünschtes Freudenlicht
16






TRINITATISZEIT
BWV
TRINITY AND ORDINARY TIME
Volume
Trinitatis
129
Gelobet sei der Herr, mein Gott
16
1. Sonntag nach Trinitatis

20
O Evigkeit, du Donnerwort
7
2. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
2
Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein
7
Visitatio
10
Meine Seel erhebt den Herren
7
3. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
135

Ach Herr, mich armen Sünder
2
4. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
177
Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ
2
5. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
93
Wer nur den lieben Gott läßt walten
2
6. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
9
Es ist das Heil uns kommen her
18
7. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
186
Ärgre dich, o Seele, nicht
18
8. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
178
Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält
3
9. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
168
Tue Rechnung! Donnerwort
18
10. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
102
Herr, deine Augen sehen nach dem Glauben
3
11. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
179
Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei
5
12. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
35
Geist und Seele wird verwirret
5
13. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
164
Ihr, die ihr euch von Christo nennet
5
14. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
17
Wer Dank opfert, der preiset mich
5
15. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
138
Warum betrübst du dich, mein Herz
12
16. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
27
Wer weiß, wie nahe mir mein Ende?
12
17. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
47
Wer sich selbst erhöhet, der soll erniedriget werden
12
18. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
96
Herr Christ, der einge Gottessohn
12
19. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
56
Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen
1
20. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
180
Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele
1






ENDE DES KIRCHENJAHRES

BWV
END OF THE LITURGICAL YEAR
Volume
21. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
98
Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan
1
22. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
55
Ich armer Mensch, ich Sündenknecht
1
23. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
52
Falsche Welt, dir trau ich nicht!
15
24. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
60
O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort
15
25. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
116
Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ
15
26. Sonntag nach Trinitatis
70
Wachet! betet! betet! wachet!
18
27. Sonntag nach Trinitatis

140

Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme
15


















Bach Cantatas for the Complete Liturgical Year

The project of recording one cantata composed for each Sunday and high feast of the liturgical year

has been spread over several concert seasons, during each of which three to four cantatas
were given concert performances and were recorded. As far as possible this was made
during the relevant time of the year for which the cantatas were written.

GENERAL INTRODUCTION
getting the best from listening to the Bach cantatas

It seems to me essential that those really wanting to absorb and appreciate these cantatas should turn their attention to the respective text as dispassionately and open-heartedly as possible before listening to each work.
The librettists and composers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries took it for granted that the congregation for which the cantatas were intended were familiar with the themes they dealt with, since the texts were written for liturgical use. They therefore always followed upon the prescribed readings from the Old and New Testaments. By nature they were a fabric of paraphrases and commentaries on those readings, and as such they were given personal, poetic treatment.
The majority of cantata texts from Bach’s time and sphere of influence have a ‘collage’ structure made up of at least two layers of different origins. Almost all the cantatas contain one or more stanzas of a Lutheran hymn (mostly from the seventeenth century, sometimes from the late sixteenth century, in more or less unchanged form) which are integrated with the newly written texts. Being able to recognize this double-layered structure then helps us to “feel” it as well. More than just a structural process, the “collage” often allows us to better perceive the core of the central ideas.
There are a number of variations on this basic structure; in the texts of the oratorios and passions (which are very closely related to the cantata texts), there is yet a third layer: fragments of the Gospel text (in Luther’s translation). There are also examples of cantata texts in which fragments of Old-Testament texts form a third layer – occurring mostly at the beginning of the cantatas, as a kind of “statement of the theme”. The fact that, unlike the hymns and the new texts, these two forms of text (Gospels and Old Testament) are not presented in poetically revised form but as prose (that is, without definite metre and rhyme), lends these “triple-layered” texts not only greater structural complexity but also a directly perceptible degree of declamatory variety.
A special case is represented by the CHORALE CANTATA, which in turn may be divided into two types. In the first type the entire text consists of a selection of stanzas from a familiar hymn (i.e. without “new texts”), while in the second type mostly only the beginning and end of the cantata text are stanzas taken over literally from an existing hymn, while the rest comprises paraphrases of other stanzas of the same hymn.
In 1724 Bach composed cantatas of that kind for an almost complete liturgical year, filling in the gaps at a later time.
Insight into the structure and perception of the various sources of the individual parts provides clarity about the text in its entirety; it is important to recognize how the poet linked the parts with one another. It is obvious that knowledge of and sympathy with articles of Christian faith are of great assistance in this. But whether (or how deeply) we are touched by the verses will ultimately depend solely upon the librettist’s poetic talent.
Because the librettist repeatedly presented aspects of generally familiar leitmotifs in these texts, he sought to emphasize them in a personal and compelling manner by applying every stylistic device available to poetry and rhetoric at the time. The informed assessment and conscious enjoyment of such poesy is in my opinion unthinkable without a certain amount of practice and the ability to recognize at least the basic principles underlying it.
In what follows I will try to provide those who have little experience in this subject with certain key concepts, with the aid of which they will be in a position to recognize the context and quality of these texts. Since one of the hallmarks of all Baroque art is that a certain degree of priority is assigned to the formal treatment (the “how?”) over the originality of content (the “what?”), I intend to concentrate on the assessment and enjoyment of the formal treatment more than on the assessment of the content of the texts - modern listeners will all have their own personal relationships to spirituality in general and to the Lutheran tradition (to which Bach belonged) in particular.
The hymns and chorales (the ‘simpler’ layer of our cantata texts) had the primary function of edifying the congregation with pious thoughts after the reading from the Gospels. Definite rhythm (e.g. poetic metre, see below) and musically interesting rhyme have from time immemorial been an invaluable aid to memorizing – to being able to keep something in one’s head. Rhythm and rhyme have therefore always played an important role in hymns (just as in children’s songs).
In the other layer, that of the newly written texts (recitatives and arias), the same tools (metre and rhyme) are present, but here they have often been developed into sophisticated artifices of various kinds which go far beyond “edifying” or “catechizing” the congregation.
In these texts the librettists delved deeper into the toolbox of ars poetica, not shying away from implementing their own ideas or from using metaphors based mostly on ones in the Holy Scriptures or in classical writings. The listener was assumed to be able to follow the countless allusions to them and to understand their sense. Art was at that time anyway much more closely associated with culture, which was “above” lowly “nature”; and when homage was rendered to ‘nature’ in the art of the early eighteenth century, it must be understood that it was not done in the ‘Romantic’ sense, nature rather being seen as an idealized model and not as the ‘raw material’ from which all that is good comes. Realistic naturalism was unknown in art, the word “artificial” commonly having the same positive denotation as “artistic” and being used even to describe the excellence of craftsmanship.
That makes it easy to understand that in order to serve their art the librettists used the arsenal of poetic devices freely, with conviction and imagination. RHYTHM determines the course of the verses: the choice and alternation of the various metrical feet (the rhythmic ‘cells’ which are repeated in the syllables of a verse) and the verse structures aim directly at the deepening of expressiveness; thus the ideal form at the same time becomes virtually a part of the content.
As in the hymns of earlier decades, the following metrical feet predominate:
- the IAMB (one short syllable and one long syllable)
- the TROCHEE (one long and one short)
- the DACTYL (one long and two short)
These metres (and others, like the spondee, longlong) all came down to us from classical Greek and have pervaded the poetry of the entire Western world for several millennia, though in our languages, the long-short dichotomy has rather come to mean strong-weak stress.
Each metre tends to have its own “psychological effect”. Iambic metre predominates in the cantata texts, mostly in peaceful and regular narration; trochaic metre often seems more powerful, urgent, sometimes almost imperious; dactylic metre creates the impression of sudden acceleration and motion by virtue of its strong beat followed by two weak ones (the strong-weak alternation of the iamb and trochee being analogous to the two-to-one pattern of triple time in music), whereas the – rare – spondee, composed of two equally strong beats, creates a noticeably more melancholy impression.
A little practice is required to recognize the metres, but one soon becomes accustomed to noticing them and is rewarded with a greater feel for the verses. I should like to urge listeners to get the knack of reading this poetry through silently or aloud in the rhythmically correct manner; doing so is the only way to perceive its inner structure and fully enjoy its beautiful aspects.
The following examples from Bach’s cantata texts may be used for reference whilst practising the technique:

IAMBIC METRE: (short-long)
Cantata 55, of Aria no. 1:
Ich armer Mensch, ich Sündenknecht,
Ich geh vor Gottes Angesichte
Mit Furcht und Zittern zum Gerichte,
Er ist gerecht, ich ungerecht

TROCHAIC METRE: (long-short)
Cantata 55, Aria no. 3, lines 3 to 6:
Lass die Tränen dich erweichen,
Lass sie dir zu Herzen reichen;
Lass um Jesu Christi willen
Deinen Zorn des Eifers stillen

DACTYLIC METRE: (long-short-short)
(Each line begins on a short syllable on the ‘upbeat’ of the preceding bar before the first complete dactyl; this is not in keeping with classical Greek Poetry)
- Cantata 19, opening chorus (lines 2 and 3):
Die rasende Schlange, der höllische Drache
Stürmt wider den Himmel mit tender Rache
- Cantata 21 contains an aria which ‘skips’ along in dactyls throughout (no. 10):
Erfreue dich, Seele, erfreue dich, Herze,
Entweiche nun, Kummer, verschwinde nun, Schmerze!
Verwandle dich, Weinen, in lauteren Wein!
Es wird nun mein Ächzen ein Jauchzen mir sein.
(and so on in three more verses)

The following examples illustrate the CHANGE OF THE BASIC RHYTHM (i.e. the metre) within a fragment, both from Cantata 56 “Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen”:
- In Aria no. 1 the pilgrimage through life “to God in the Promised Land” is told in iambic verse; suddenly (so to speak upon “arriving” there), the metre becomes dactylic and we impulsively, musically, sense thereby man’s joy at finding salvation in God:

Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen,
Es kömmt von Gottes lieber Hand,
Der führet mich nach meinen Plagen
Zu Gott in das gelobte Land (iambic thus far)
Da leg ich den Kummer auf einmal ins Grab (dactylic from here)
Da wischt mir die Tränen mein Heiland selbst ab.

Interestingly, the poet (or was it J. S . Bach himself?) used the last two (dactylic) lines once again at the end of the recitative no. 4 (which, like the above aria, is otherwise iambic), again achieving a similar effect directly before the closing chorale.
- In the third line of Aria no. 3 the poet switches from trochaic to iambic metre, returning to trochaic in the closing line; that creates a structure which intensifies the expressiveness of the whole aria; the iambic lines (3 to 6) form a definite unit which is framed by the three essentially related trochaic lines (1, 2 and 7):

Endlich, endlich wird mein Joch
Wieder von mir weichen müssen.
(trochaic thus far)
Da krieg ich in dem Herren Kraft,
(iambic from here)
Da hab ich Adlers Eigenschaft,
Da fahr ich auf von dieser Erden
Und laufe sonder matt zu werden.
O gescheh es heute noch! (again trochaic)

An unchanging metre can naturally become monotonous, but the skillful librettist is able to use these regular rhythms ingeniously, to bend them, to distort them. Sometimes, for example, important words or syllables are placed in weak (short, unaccented) positions; that, in an intelligent declamation, actually gives them a special, artistically elevated value - by virtue of being the exception to the rule, this unexpected device suddenly heightens the listener’s raptness.

- An example in the first Aria of Cantata 55:
Ich armer Mensch, ich Sündenknecht (line 1, etc.)
Er ist gerecht, ich ungerecht (line 4)

In this clearly iambic context, the pronoun “ich” (I) is twice assigned a weak stress in the first line (the “short” instead of the “long” syllables of the iambic feet). In the 4th line, both “Er” (He, i.e. God) and “ich” are similarly weak. An unsophisticated, schematic declamation would render these four syllables as relatively unimportant. However, it is all too clear that the poet’s repetition of ‘ich’ in contrast to ‘Er’ in the fourth line is intended to intensify ‘ich’; the sinner is here contrasted with the just God. Both instances of ich in the first line should therefore deliberately be treated as an exception and given a certain degree of expansion and weight (even silently in reading!); the same applies to Er and ich in the fourth line.
These examples will without doubt enable one to realize how correct declamation can help to shape the content of a text.

- EXCLAMATIONS (like “Ach!”, “O” and “Wie”), and monosyllabic words like “nun” - “so” – “welch” etc. also very often occur at points of weak stress, although in declamation they must frequently convey a certain degree of passion, which at the same time serves to avoid monotony.

- PATHOS-LADEN APPEALS, like “Herr” and “Gott”, as well as monosyllabic contractions like “komm”, “zeig” etc. also frequently occur at such points of ‘weak’ stress. Correct declamation will then also immediately emphasize and exploit such cases.

Many other mechanisms and beautiful aspects that cannot be mentioned here will reveal themselves as one makes progress in reading the texts in this manner. Intensive involvement with the subject will make the building blocks of Baroque poetry and rhetoric easy to recognize, and it is fun to follow that path!

A final marginal note:
J. S . Bach involved himself with this poetry with astonishing energy and supreme skill; for him it was modern and alive, and he must also have had a thorough knowledge of its laws and subtleties.
Nonetheless, the musical language of Bach and his time was so highly developed and so uniquely complex that composers could not afford (nor did they want) to be slaves to poetic rules. For that reason, many poetic peculiarities that make up the charm of these verses had to be sacrificed in setting them to music because of compositional considerations; whereas the prosody (the rhythmic flow of words) in the recitatives is very close to ‘spoken’ declamation, in arias, duets and polyphonic “choruses” they naturally depart considerably from the declaimed pattern; there the laws of music are given priority over those of poetry.
Why then, one will ask, bother with this long introduction to specifically poetic aspects (metrical feet etc.), if they so often receive relatively little attention in the composers’ musical settings? Because we should nevertheless try to experience these texts in the same way as composers and worshippers experienced them at the time.
Only then can we truly appreciate them. To listen “to the music only”, without that kind of insight into the texts, seems me a deplorable self-imposed restriction.
Logical structuring in rhythmic cells is a very frequent procedure in Bach’s music; many of these rhythmic cells are simple like metrical feet. Bach sometimes takes the liberty of changing the metre of the original text, giving it another rhythmic unit in his music.
For example, in Cantata 180 (Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele), where the iambic metre of the text in the tenor aria “Ermuntre dich: dein Heiland klopft” (be lively, your Saviour knocks) is replaced in the obbligato flute part and also in the tenor solo with a rhythmic impetus that is clearly of dactylic nature. The cheering quality of the text is expressed in a much livelier manner in this new rhythm than in the poet’s iambic metre. Here Bach worked as a poet and “corrected” his librettist.
In other cases, Bach follows the metrical units of the text precisely, using them as the basis for erecting a large edifce (what better example could there be than the beginning of the St Matthew Passion: “Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen”, etc.?) Trochaic rhythm (long-short) dominates the whole opening chorus, being omnipresent in its original form in the bass of the orchestra and taken up now and then by the violas. In the choral parts it is often veiled by lengthy melismas before returning clearly at “...helft mir klagen”, and later at “Holz zum Kreuze selber tra(gen)”.
We herewith conclude the general textual commentary.


THE USE OF VOCAL FORCES IN BACH'S MUSIC

Musicological research in recent decades (above all by Joshua Rifkin and other musicians like Andrew Parrott) has made it clear that J.S. Bach was not thinking of a choir in the modern sense when he wrote his cantatas, passions, masses, etc. Works of that kind were then invariably performed with a single singer (“concertista”) for each part (soprano, alto, tenor, bass). These “concertisti” sang not only the solo arias and recitatives relevant to their voices, but also came together to form the “choir”, where necessary.
In rare cases, this quartet of ‘concertisti’ was reinforced by another quartet, the ‘ripieno singers’, who doubled the concertisti only in the ensemble sections (which is what ripieno implies). Bichoral works of this genre therefore called for two groups of four ‘concertisti’.
That was the normal way to perform such church music in Bach’s time and sphere of influence; the solo forces were taken for granted in this context, and only the vocally much simpler contrapuntal works of the old tradition were performed with (often multiple) doubling of the parts.
Many virtuosic passages in the “choral sections” of Bach’s cantatas etc. are in my opinion also proof of the fact that this was not choral music in the modern sense – just as a Haydn string quartet, for example, is not “music for string orchestra”!
The terms “choir” and “chorus” generally referred to a “group” in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, and did not specifically imply a doubling of the parts; a solo quartet (even one mixing voices and instruments!) is also referred to in certain contexts as a “choir”.
Ultimately this music can show its true face only if performed by soloists. Since the “conductor” in the modern sense is dispensable in that kind of performance (I conduct, where necessary, from the first violin), these cantatas and related pieces gain greatly in terms of collective devotional power.


ON THE INSTRUMENTAL FORCES, ESPECIALLY THE CONTINUO GROUP

It is my conviction that thorough critical consideration must be given to the automatic way in which the cello “naturally” forms part of the basso continuo section in Baroque music nowadays.
The word “violoncello” occurs rather seldom in the scores of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries; it was a specific indication which was not connected per se with the general basso continuo, but rather denoted a solo function. The first ‘permanent’ role assigned to the instrument was in the “concertino”, i.e. the solo group comprising two violins and a “violoncello” which was pitted against the larger tutti section in the concerto grosso.
The usual instrument given the general bass role (fondamento) was the “violone”, which means “large viola”. The viola family had two branches: the viola
da gamba and the viola da braccio. Both were made in various sizes, from descant (soprano) to bass.
Large instruments of both families were assigned the function of the ‘violone’, often indiscriminately; in the absence of norms, general use was made of instruments of various sizes, forms, tunings and pitches (some sounded at “8-foot” pitch as written, others sounded an octave lower at “16-foot” pitch). In the Italy of Corelli (Rome, around 1700), the common 8-foot bass was called “violone” and the octave bass “contrabasso”. In works demanding large orchestral forces, the instruments were listed as “violini, violette (= violas), violoni, contrabassi”. The “violoncello” clearly did not belong to the usual orchestral arsenal!
It is not clear exactly when this smaller “violoncello” (diminutive of violone!) became obligatory in the various areas of Europe. It is also not clear how the cello was held – between the legs as we know it, or almost horizontally across the chest, supported on (or against) the right shoulder, as the “Violoncello da Spalla alla moderna” was described by Bismantova of Ferrara in 1694. The scores themselves do not elucidate the matter.
I very much tend to regard the leg position as having come later than the “spalla (shoulder) position”. As late as 1756, in the section in which he describes the viola da gamba, Leopold Mozart says the instrument is ‘of course held between the legs’ (as the name suggests). He goes on: “Nowadays the cello is also held between the legs”, which clearly implies that that was not the case in earlier times. And Adlung (Erfurt, 1758) writes two years later: “The violoncello is also called viola da spalla” (the names ‘viola da spalla’ and ‘violoncello da spalla’ referred to the same instrument).
In 1713 Mattheson praised the viola da spalla at some length because of its easiness to play and strongly incisive” sound, declaring that “nothing hinders or prevents its resonance in the slightest”. Brossard’s Dictionnaire de musique of 1703 compared the “violoncelle des Italiens” with the “quinte de violon” in France – which again points very clearly in the direction of “spalla”, since the quinte de violon was the largest of the three violas in Lully’s orchestra – all of which were performed on the arm (the “spalla position” is essentially a consequence of the arm position: since the instrument was too large to rest on the left shoulder or arm like the smaller da-braccio instruments, it was held horizontally across the chest against the right shoulder, sometimes with the aid of a sling).
In Weimar in 1708, the year in which Bach became court organist, the “violoncello” was likewise described as a “da spalla” instrument.
The violoncello da spalla had four strings and mostly used the same tuning as today’s cello; there is also (occasional) mention of it having five strings, in which case a high e’ string was added. That variant completely corresponds with the so-called “viola pomposa” which, according to a report from around 1770, had been ‘invented’ by J. S . Bach in Leipzig in the 1720s. Bach himself never actually uses the name, but his Cello Suite no. 6 requires its tuning of CGdae’ (as do some of the arias with violoncello piccolo in the cantatas). The five-string da-spalla instrument combines the normal tunings of the CGda cello and of the Gdae’ ‘cello piccolo’.
It is increasingly assumed that Bach conceived his “Cello Suites” (and the solo violin works) whilst still in Weimar; it is certainly true that the parts for the violoncello piccolo solo passages in the later Leipzig cantatas were either written on separate sheets or in the first violin part, but never in the violone or basso continuo parts. That points once again to the “cello” being held in the spalla position in Bach’s environment. The conclusion that his famous Cello Suites and all his other cello parts were intended for the “violoncello da spalla” can now in my opinion hardly be called into question.
We put these ideas into practice. Throughout our recordings and versions, we use – when ever violoncello is asked for specifically by Bach – an instrument built by Dmitry Badiarov (Brussels) in 2004, which is similar to the copies of the “viola pomposa” in the Leipzig and Brussels museums. While designed for five strings, it is also very well suited for use as a four-string cello (or cello piccolo).
The decision to use that instrument is completely in keeping with our feeling that the needs of such small forces (vocal and instrumental) are best served by an 8-foot “violone” (but an instrument considerably larger than today’s cello). For example, the 8-foot violone of the ‘braccio family’ was the instrument that was called ‘basse de violon’ in France; in other parts of Europe it was simply called ‘basso’ or ‘violone’. We use such instruments; the 8-foot violone of the gamba family is also used in some cantatas.
The other stringed instruments we use comprise 2 (or 3) first violins, 2 second violins, 1 viola. This combination is repeatedly found in the numerous complete original sets of the parts of Bach’s cantatas
which have come down to us.
Sigiswald Kuijken
Translation: J & M Berridge