1 CD - BIS-2041 SACD - (p) 2013

SECULAR CANTATAS - Volume 3







Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)






Serenata


"Durchlauchtster Leopold", BWV 173a
18' 35"
Soprano, Basso, Flauto traverso I, II, Violino I, II, Viola, Bassono, Violoncello, Continuo


- [Recitativo] (Soprano I): Durchlauchster Leopold...
0' 40"


- Aria (Soprano): Güldner Sonnen frohe Stunden... 3' 35"

- [Aria] (Basso): Leopolds Vortrefflichkeiten... 1' 47"

- Aria (Soprano, Basso): Unter seinem Purpursaum... 3' 45"

- Recitativo (Soprano, Basso): Durchlauchtigster, den Anhalt Vater nennt... 1' 14"

- Aria (Soprano): So schau dies holden Tages Licht... 3' 19"

- Aria (Basso): Dein Name gleich der Sonnen geh... 2' 04"

- Chorus (Soprano, Basso): Nimm auch, großer Fürst, uns auf... 2' 01"





"Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten", BWV 202
19' 53"
Soprano solo (all movements), Oboe, Violino I, II, Viola, Continuo


- [Aria] (Soprano): Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten... 6' 03"

- [Recitativo] (Soprano): Die Welt wird wieder neu... 0' 28"

- Aria (Soprano): Phoebus eilt mit schnellen Pferden... 3' 05"

- Recitativo (Soprano): Drum sucht auch Amor sein Vergnügen... 0' 41"

- Aria (Soprano): Wenn die Frühlingslüfte streichen... 2' 45"

- Recitativo (Soprano): Und dieses ist das Glücke... 0' 42"

- Aria (Soprano): Sich üben im Lieben... 3' 56"

- Recitativo (Soprano): So sie das Band der keuschen Liebe... 0' 27"

- Gavotte (Soprano): Sehet in Zufriedenheit... 1' 23"





Serenata


"Die Zeit, die Tag und Jahre macht", BWV 134a
34' 56"
Oboe I, II, Violino I, II, Viola, Soprano, Alto (Göttliche Vorsehung), Tenore (Zeit), Basso, Continuo, Violone



- [Chorus]: Schwingt freudig euch empor und dringt bis an die Sternen... 4' 02"

- Recitativo (Tenore): Ein Herz, in zärtlichem Empfinden... 0' 58"

- Aria (Tenore): Die Liebe führt mit sanften Schritten... 5' 49"

- Recitativo (Basso): Du bist es ja, o hochverdienter Mann... 0' 48"

- Aria (Basso): Der Tag, der dich vordem gebar... 2' 46"

- Recitativo (Soprano): Nurd dieses Einz'ge sorgen wir... 0' 38"

- Aria (Soprano): Auch mit gedämpften, schwachen Stimmen... 8' 51"

- Recitativo (Tenore): Bei solchen freudenvollen Stunden... 0' 22"

- Chorus [ e Recitativo] (Soprano, Tenore, Basso): Wie die Jahre sich verneuen... 3' 18"





Quodlibet, BWV 524 (Fragment)
10' 46"
Soprano, Alto, Tenore, Basso, Continuo


- ...Steiß. / Was seind das vor große Schlösser... 10' 46"





 
Joanne Lunn, soprano BACH COLLEGIUM JAPAN / Masaaki Suzuki, Direction
Hiroya Aoki, counter-tenor - Kiyomi Suga, Flauto traverso I
Makoto Sakurada, tenor - Liliko Maeda, Flauto traverso II
Roderick Williams, baritone - Masamitsu San'nomiya, Oboe & Oboe d'amore

- Natsumi Wakamatsu, Violino I leader
Masamitsu San'nomiya, oboe & oboe d'amore - Paul Herrera, Violino I (BWV 36c & 173a)
Natsumi Wakamatsu, violin & viola d'amore - Yuko Takeshima, Violino I (BWV 36c & 173a]


- Azumi Takada, Violino II
CHORUS - Yuko Araki, Violino II (BWV 36c & 173a)
Soprano: - Yukie Yamaguchi, Violino II (BWV 36c & 173a)
Joanne Lunn, Minae Fujisaki, Yoshie Hida, Eri Sawae
- Emilio Moreno, Viola
Alto: - Mika Akiha, Viola (BWV 36c & 173a)
Hiroya Aoki, Toshiharu Nakajima, Yumi Nakamura, Tamaki Suzuki - Natsumi Wakamatsu, Viola d'amore
Tenore: Continuo (all works):
Makoto Sakurada, Satoshi Mizukoshi, Jun Suzuki - Hidemi Suzuki, Violoncello
Basso: - Takashi Konno, Violone
Roderick Williams, Toru Kaku, Yusuke Watanabe - Yukiko Murakami, Bassono (BWV 36c & 173a)

- Masato Suzuki, Cembalo

- Masaaki Suzuki, Organo
 






Luogo e data di registrazione
MS&AD Shirakawa Hall, Nagoya (Japan) - July 2012


Registrazione: live / studio
studio

Producer | Engineer
Ingo Petry | Andreas Ruge | Akimi Hayashi

Edizione CD
BIS - BIS-2041 SACD - (1 CD) - durata 77' 26" - (p) & (c) 2013 - DDD

Note
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COMMENTARY
Durchlauchtster Leopold, BWV 173a Most illustrious Leopold
During the years 1717−23, when Bach was Hofkapellmeister in the service of Prince Leopold von Anhalt-Köthen (1694−1728), his duties included providing congratulatory cantatas each New Year’s Day and on the Prince’s birthday, 10th December. Durchlauchtster Leopold is one of these birthday cantatas.
The identity of the librettist remains unknown, but in his text the people of Anhalt and Köthen pay homage to their Prince with the solicitude typical of the era. In this context, the two singers may be interpreted as allegorical figures, the soprano perhaps as an embodiment of providence, the bass as an allegory of renown.
Despite the limited instrumental and vocal forces, Bach succeeded in setting the multi-faceted text to music of great variety. It starts with an accompagnato for the soprano, addressing the Prince by name; at the end, the Prince’s title ‘Durchlauchtster’ (‘Most illustrious’) is effectively ornamented with a brilliant coloratura. The soprano sings of a golden age under the Prince’s rule in a lively aria with a rhythmically concise theme. The bass joins in too, praising ‘Leopold’s excellent attributes’; the words ‘machen uns itzt viel zu tun’ (‘give us now much to do’) are re flected in the bustling activity in the accompanying string parts.
The most remarkable movement in the cantata is the three-strophe duet for soprano and bass ‘Unter seinem Purpursaum’ (fourth movement). It is marked Al tempo di minuetto, and is indeed a genuine minuet that could be danced to. The three strophes are written as a set of varia tions, the key signatures rising stepwise according to the circle of fifths in each verse while at the same time the music becomes increasingly condensed. The first strophe begins in G major; the minuet melody is given to the solo bass, accompanied by the strings. In the second strophe, in D major, the soprano takes up the melody, and flutes are added to the orchestra. In the third strophe, in A major, the orchestra is augmented by a richly figured violin part; both vocal soloists take part, the bass once again with the minuet melody and the soprano with a free accompaniment.
Another duet in minuet form concludes this birthday cantata. These two dance movements give the work the character of a courtly serenade, and it is therefore slightly surprising that Bach had no qualms about reusing such clearly secular music – slightly shortened, with its last movement now set for four vocal parts, and with a new sacred text – as a church cantata for Whit Monday in Leipzig (Erhöhtes Fleisch und Blut, BWV 173).

Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten, BWV 202 Merely yield, sorrowful shadows
This charming wedding cantata would have been lost forever if a 13-year-old boy, Johannes Ringk, in the province of Thuringia had not made a copy of it in 1730. Might this same boy – who later became a respected musician as organist of the Marienkirche in Berlin – have been the soprano soloist in the cantata?
We know nothing about the origins of the work; the name of the librettist is unknown, as are the identities of the bride and groom for whom the piece was intended. Clearly, however, they were from the bourgeoisie; otherwise the focus would have been more on display and the sounds of trumpets and drums, whilst charm, grace, amiability and humour might possibly have been replaced by convention and stately manners. A stroke of luck, in other words.
The cantata text, which the poet presented to the bride and groom as a wedding present, is a loosely arranged set of tableaux in baroque style. Clearly referring to the seasonal events at the time of the wedding, it depicts a landscape that gradually becomes populat ed with some well-known mythological figures. It is the season in which the ‘sorrow ful shadows’ of the long winter nights and spring mists yield, and the ‘frost and winds’ attain ‘peace’; ‘the world becomes new once more’, ‘spring breezes flutter’ – in short: spring has arrived. Flora appears, the goddess of flowers, with a cornucopia of blooms. And she is not alone: Phoebus Apollo, ‘hastens with swift horses through the new-born world’ (third movement). He is followed by Amor (fourth and fifth movements), sneaking through the fields and keeping a lookout for lov ing couples – and hey presto! here is one: our bride and bridegroom.
After that, the poet himself puts in an appearance with the recommendation: ‘To become proficient at love, to embrace with good humour…’ (seventh movement) and with the friendly wish: ‘May the band of virtuous love, o betrothed pair, thus be free from the fickleness of changeability’ (eighth movement), in other words that their love should be long-lasting and un shakeable – neither by ‘sudden mis chance’, giving the composer an implicit cue, nor by ‘clap of thunder’ (at which point the composer promptly includes a rumbling in the continuo). The end of the work is full of good wishes: ‘gratification’, ‘a thousand bright days of prosperity’ and, of course, that love should ‘bring forth blossom’ – in other words, that children should ensue.
Bach was inspired by the sprightly libretto to produce some beautiful music, and has charmingly coloured the poetic images with the broad palette of his formal, descriptive and expressive artistry. The weightiest piece in the cantata is without question the opening aria. It is astonishing how Bach begins the movement, preparing the listener for the first words of the aria even before they are heard by means of a musical depiction full of nature poetry. Before the oboe and vocal line enter, the strings’ calmly rising chords portray the shadows which – as the text will soon inform us – yield and, as Bach’s music shows, are in fact already lifting like spring mists. Then the oboe comes in and, with its long-held note immediately followed by the soprano’s entry, sunbeams seem to penetrate the walls of cloud.
In the other movements, too, Bach writes in an unusually descriptive way. On occasion he appears very folksy, as in the next aria (third movement), in which he sets Phoebus’s horses galloping in an Allegro assai in 12/8-time. And in the next aria (fifth movement) Amor seems to want to tease the lovers with the solo violin’s playful little echo phrases.
In the last movements the dance-like element comes to the fore. The oboe aria ‘Sich üben im Lieben’ (seventh movement) is a sung passepied with folk-like traits. The finale is not even called an ‘aria’ any more, but rather a ‘gavotte’ – which is entirely apt; indeed it is a particularly attractive example of the form which, more over, must have indicated to the wedding party that it was now time to push the tables to one side and start dancing.

Schwingt freudig euch empor…, BWV 36c Soar joyfully upwards…
Bach’s score, from the spring of 1725, tells us nothing about the occasion and purpose of this congratulatory cantata. Some information can, however, be gleaned from the text: the congratulations are addressed to a teacher, and the day of the celebration is when ‘the years renew themselves’ (ninth movement), in other words his birthday. The references to the ‘constant teachings’ and the ‘silver embellishment of age’ suggest many years of service and a man who has reached a considerable age; the reference to him as a ‘man of outstanding merit’ and of ‘high est honour’ (fourth movement) indicates that he had attained an elevated rank. Remarks concerning his renown as a teacher (second movement) and his wide spread recognition (ninth movement) reinforce this impression. So far, however, all of these hints – plus other references in the text – have proved insufficient to permit us to identify this learned gentle man.
From the very first bar, Bach’s music is infused with cheerful animation. Introduced by a solo from the oboe d’amore – as songful as it is invigorating, and further enlivened by triplet figures – the choir enters, one part after another. Figuratively and literally it is ‘upward-soaring’ from the bass, via the tenor and alto, to the soprano, with a melodic idea that in itself rises upwards, reaching a top a'' in the soprano on the words ‘und dringt bis an die Sternen’ (‘and reach out towards the stars’). The text allows for a particularly striking dramaturgical effect with the words ‘Doch haltet ein!’ (‘But stop!’): this is the sudden revocation of all the previous encouragement to ‘soar upwards’, and for a moment the orchestra falls silent as well.
The oboe d’amore also dominates the instrumental texture of the tenor aria (third movement), symbolically illustrated by the text ‘Die Liebe führt mit sanften Schritten ein Herz, das seinen Lehrer liebt’ (‘Love, with gentle steps, leads a heart that loves his teacher’). The solo bass, with baroque exuberance, compares the beloved teacher’s birth day with the First Day of Creation and God’s command ‘Let there be light!’ (fifth movement). The soprano aria (seventh movement), a display piece exquisitely scored with viola d’amore and with all sorts of echo effects in the middle section, proclaims that we can praise the teacher fittingly ‘even with hushed, faint voices’ (although, as is suggested, he would have merited praise with trumpets and drums). The work is rounded off by a chorus in fleet-of-foot gavotte style, summarizing all the good wishes and also allowing the three aria soloists one more chance to stand out.
Bach must have been extremely fond of this cantata. Soon after composing it, he reworked it as the Advent cantata Schwingt freudig euch empor, BWV36, which he revised and extended again in 1731. Before that, in 1726, the work had served as a birthday cantata for Countess Charlotte Friederike Wilhelmine von Anhalt-Köthen (with the parody text Steigt freudig in die Luft, BWV 36a), and later on, around 1735, starting with the text Die Freude reget sich, BWV 36b, as a tribute to a member of the Rivinus family of Leipzig scholars.

Quodlibet, BWV 524
As with Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten, this is a piece of wedding music, albeit of an entirely different kind and on a wholly different stylistic level. As for the genre, this is not a cantata as such but rather a socalled ‘catalogue quodlibet’, a folk form of humorous character, close to improvisation, that derives much of its effect from juxtaposing unrelated fragments, together with topical allusions. Traditionally such works combine quotations from songs, toasts, market traders’ and nightwatchmen’s calls, proverbs, puns and so on with witty, often boisterous and coarse references to the reason for and participants in a social gathering. Such quodlibets were especially popular at weddings, where they frequently got out of hand. In 1730 the literary scholar Johann Christoph Gottsched wrote in his Critische Dichtkunst with obvious reservations: ‘At weddings this sort of witty poem has its uses, if it does not become merely offensive.’
This Quodlibet poses all kinds of riddle. A fair copy from 1707/08, in Bach’s own hand, has survived but it is not intact. Apparently at some stage the outer sheets were removed, thereby depriving us of the beginning and ending of the piece – including the title as well as information about whose wedding it was performed at. Above all, the name of the composer is missing, and it is thus by no means certain that it is Bach’s own work. It may, for instance, have been a collaboration between several of the wedding guests.
The type of occasion for which the piece was written is clear. The text mentions ‘Große Hochzeit, große Freuden’ (‘Great wedding, great joy’) and there are various intimations that leave no possibility for doubt. We do not know, however, whose wedding it was; nor can we be certain of the sort of people who were the guests, despite a whole series of indirect references, including one to ‘Salome’, possibly Bach’s sister Maria Salome, whose married name was Wiegand (1677−1727). Also unclear is the nature of a certain event to which ironic allusions are constantly being made, and which is associated with sea journeys to the Dutch East Indies. Apparently it concerned a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt − maybe by the bridegroom himself – to use a baker’s trough as a boat.
Almost as though it had been designed with subsequent Bach research in mind, the text of this Quodlibet contains a very precise chronological indication. Towards the end of the piece the tenor sings: ‘This year we have two eclipses of the sun’. There were two total eclipses in each of the years 1705, 1706 and 1708, and two slightly less impressive partial eclipses in 1707 too. This limits the possible dates of composition. The piece cannot, however, have been composed for Bach’s own marriage to Maria Barbara Bach in October 1707, as he himself wrote out the fair copy of the score that was in all probability intended as a dedication example for the bride and groom.
© Klaus Hofmann 2013
Production Notes
Here I would like give a few brief comments in connection with the Quodlibet, BWV 524.
As Klaus Hofmann mentions in his commentary, this work has been handed down in the form of J. S. Bach’s own manuscript of the full score, but at least one of the sheets of this score in folio is missing. The extant score consists of three sheets, each containing four pages of notation, and it would appear thus that the first two pages and the final section of approximately two pages has been lost. The composer’s name, which should of course appear at the head of the work, is missing, and the current situation is that only the central part of the work has been handed down for performance purposes. But the section that has survived is of considerable musical interest, and I decided therefore to include it in the programme. The fragment opens with a four-part chord on the word Steiß, meaning ‘backside’ and often referring to the tail of a bird or animal, but it is unclear what it could mean in this context. At the very end of the manuscript, the final line of text reads ‘What a nice fugue this is!’ in a passage on the dominant key, implying that this section was originally followed by a fugue. Unfortunately this fugue is now lost, meaning that all we can do is imagine it
.
© Masaaki Suzuki 2013