|
|
Cantata BWV 152
Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn
Discussions - Part 4 |
|
Continue from Part 3 |
|
Discussions in the Week of June 21, 2009 [Continue] |
|
Evan Coretns wrote (June 25, 2009):
Neil Halliday wrote:
< Notice also C.P.E. Bach's cursory remarks on the last page of the Art of Fugue: that his father died with the appearance of the counter-subject BACH, when this subject is not a countersubject, and no mention of the possibility that this fugue was intended to be a grand concluding quadruple fugue, as reported by other members of Bach's family. How accurate/reliable are CPE's reports. >
Neil implies a very good point here, that of C.P.E. Bach as a sort of "press agent" for his father! We know that he is the source of this remark on the final page of the Art of Fugue (and here the master laid down his pen, or something like that) when it was first published after J. S. Bach's death. Recent scholarship however has clearly shown this not to be the case: the Art of Fugue was in fact begun many years before Bach's death, perhaps as early as c. 1740. Perhaps then C.P.E. Bach was trying to develop a story that he thought would help sell copies of the music! (Unfortunately for him, it seems not to have worked... the copper plates later being melted down and sold for the value of the scrap metal.)
I certainly have nothing more than circumstantial evidence to support this but it's clear that C.P.E. Bach had an interest in preserving his father's reputation, if only for the purpose of reflected glory. While I don't believe it was his intention to say in the obituary that J. S. intended to write five passions and five cycles his cantata, it may well be possible that he slightly inflated the numbers to make things appear a little more rosy. Perhaps to argue against this, though, the remainder of the works list in the obituary seems, for the most part, to be fairly accurate... I'll have to look into this more! |
|
Douglas Cowling wrote (June 25, 2009):
BWV 152: Bach & the Dumpster
Evan Cortens wrote:
< What I am really arguing is that the varied state of the Bach sources suggest to me that complete loss of a particular piece would have been difficult (though not impossible). >
We also have to be hard-hearted here and accept that later musicians probably pitched some of Bach's music because it was old-fashioned or it did not suit the practical needs of a latter age. It would be interesting to know the conservation policies of the libraries of the Leipzig churches and school. What was the property of the institutions and what was the property of the cantor, and who decided what was kept?
We know that the copies of the printed Bodenschatz collections of 16th & 17th century motets were in the church/school library but that the manuscript cantatas and their parts were part of the personal library of the cantor. Does that mean that the works of Schein, Bach's predecessor, were not available for performances if Bach didn't have copies? Did the church/school have a right to copies of the works which were written for its use? How else to explain the copies of "Singet dem Herrn" which were used when Mozart visited St. Thomas? The school must have had an extensive performing scores library if only for teaching purposes. What happened to that music?
Even if Bach's sons valued his music partially because it was practical repertoire, what happened in the following generation when performance of cantatas and Latin masses faded from the Lutheran church? And what of the change in tastes in the Classical and Romantic period? Did a time come before Bach became a Great Composer when his music had fallen out of the repertoire and was just occupying shelf space?
I remember discovering in one of the churches where I played a whole cupboard full of choral music which hadn't been used for 50 years. I went through the titles and retrieved a couple of items which I thought might have practical use or historical interest, but, after asking colleagues whether they wanted anything (they didn't), we packed it all up and tossed everything in the dumpster.
Sic transit gloria mundi. |
|
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 25, 2009):
Evan Cortens wrote:
< I wonder if you might have a citation for Prof. Wolff's study? I must confess, I wasn't aware of it, and I'm looking forward to digging into it! >
See for example, Wolff, JSB:TLM, p. 200, as previously cited by Will Hoffman. I fully agree this is worth digging into in more detail. Perhaps some of us (myself included) have tossed Wolffs ideas and numbers around a little too loosely? |
|
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 25, 2009):
BWV 152, and lost works
From the notes by Gardiner, to his pilgrimage recording of BWV 152:
<Yet who really knew these new works in Bachs day, outside the immediate court circle? To his peers and contemporaries he was recognized primarily as a virtuoso organist and then as a composer of instrumental music. What [italic emphasis] were they missing, and how many other vocal works from these years have been lost to us -- perhaps more than 50%? The most likely explanation is that they were impounded by Wiemars cantankerous duke when he locked the door to the choir loft where Bach kept his scores, and threw him into jail a month before his departure.> (end quote)
Note that Gardiners idea reverses the more prevalent (?) thought that losses were greater for instrumental scores, rather than choral. I believe the complete notes to the Gardiner series are available on-line via www.solideogloria.co.uk. |
|
Kim Patrick Clow wrote (June 25, 2009):
BWV 152: Lost Bach / Telemann / Graupner / Stölzel
Evan Cortens wrote:
< You've mentioned Telemann; perhaps an even surer indication of the losses of his music are his passions. We know for certain that he was required to compose a passion every year in Hamburg for performance in the principal churches, as Gerstenberg did before him and C.P.E. Bach did after him. Thus, we know with certainty the extent of our losses in this realm: fully 23 of a total of 45 passions are missing without a trace. Of those that survive, four are incomplete. >
As a sidebar, Telemann's grandson had to purchase manuscripts from the estate (I sense family drama here, but I don't know the details) and took this collection with him to Riga where he was the director of music at the city's main church. Some years later, someone made an inquiry about a specific Passion of Telemann, the grandson mailed it to them in parcel, and it just vanished.
< Nevertheless, if I may (continue to) play devil's advocate here, the fact that extensive losses are evident in the music of Bach's peers does show that it's possible, but not necessarily that it happened for J. S. Kim, you know well a good counter-argument: Christoph Graupner! Off the top of my head, his estate was purchased by Darmstadt and has been stored in libraries there ever since, explaining the near-perfect state of those sources. Granted, of course, such a clear transmission did not happen with J. S. Bach (if only it had!) >
Graupner's case is one of absolute pure luck though. His manuscripts were literally seized by the Darmstadt court and a very lengthy court case went on for over 50 years over the ownership. Dispositions were sought from other leading composers including Benda who was Stölzel's replacement in Gotha. Benda mentioned that the court there purchased the entire Stölzel manuscript collection and gave the heirs a significant payment for it. This is particularly odd, given the shabby treatment the materials receieved, but more than likely the Gotha court saw their purchase as just an act of kindness for the service Stölzel had given them and really didn't care a fig about the music materials.
So the situation in Darmstadt is unusual (but very lucky for us). Had the family won their case, I have no doubts the Graupner manuscript collection would have not survived nearly as intact as it did, or would have disappeared completely.
As for Telemann: did you know that almost NONE of his instrumental music survives in any autograph form? None of the Hamburg materials survive either, yet we know he wrote cantatas there because there are SOME copies in Frankfurt.
As another sidebar, there is a fascinating study underway about "intellectual property" issues in the early 18th century by Samantha Owens dealing with these specific issues. I hope to get a copy of her research shortly.
Thanks for an absolutely fascinating thread :-) |
|
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 25, 2009):
BWV 152: Lost Bach
Kim Patrick Clow wrote:
< there is a fascinating study underway about "intellectual property" issues in the early 18th century by Samantha Owens dealing with these specific issues. I hope to get a copy of her >research shortly. >
I hope you will be able to share it with us. Until then, I am enamored of Gardiner's theory of intellectual property rights (to paraphrase): The cantankerous duke seized [i before e, with a list of exceptions] the scores, and threw [not to be confused with through] Bach in jail.
Where Bach used the available time (no options) to write some significant music, if legend is to be believed.
I also hope ESL [English as a Second language] readers will appreciate the fortuitous examples, in the first paragraph, of why English is not so easy to learn. I have been attempting it for quite a few years, as my first language (EFL?). Nevertheless, I was driven to the dictionary:
Sieze? Seize? One could have a seizure (or worse), in the process.
Fascinating thread, indeed. |
|
Kim Patrick Clow wrote (June 25, 2009):
Evan Cortens wrote:
<< Christoph Wolff has done a study of paper purchase orders for Bach's tenure in Weimar-- and made a very reasonable argument for a guess on how many cantata scores/parts are missing, and its pretty significant. >>
< I wonder if you might have a citation for Prof. Wolff's study? I must confess, I wasn't aware of it, and I'm looking forward to digging into it! >
Here's a quote from Dr. Wolff's book about some of the issues involving the survival of Bach's music:
Snip
The survival rate of instrumental music in Bach's estate likewise differs according to three individual heirs. Again, Carl's share is the most complete (including the autograph of the organ trio sonatas and "The Art of Fugue), Friedemann's greatly diminished and scattered. Friederich's almost nonexistent (only the autograph of the unaccompanied violin works survives), and Christel's minimal....Considering the extant manuscript and printed repertoire stemming directly from Bach's library (including works by other composers copied by him or in his possession and books on music) and the complex issue of provenance, many questions remain open. Presumably, the bulk of the estate went to the four musical sonds. But did Anna Magdalena really only recieve only the parts for the chorale cantatas? Could Gottfried Heinrich have ended up completely empty-handed? What about the Bach daughters and the son-in-law Altnickol? Most such questions cannot be answered, but a picture emerges of a musical estate that is much larger than we generally imagine.
The transmission of Bach's estate was influenced not only by the fate and the actions of the direct heirs but also by other factors. For example, the process of historical selection always facors works that show innovative features; more conventional items tend to be marginalized. Already the summary work-list of the obituary falls victim to this principle. It lists specifically the works that have no or few counterparts: organ trios or other works with obbligato pedal, preludes and fugues through all twenty-four keys, pieces for unaccompanied violin and cello, concertos for one to four harpischords and the like. But ordinary concertos, suites and sonatas are covered by the catch-all phrase "a mass of other instrumental pieces of all sorts and for all kinds of instruments."
Unsnip
I hope this helps !!
Thanks as always, |
|
William L. Hoffman wrote (June 26, 2009):
BWV 152: Bach's Seasons
Correction: The author of the Neue Bach Ausgabe Critical Commentary for the Sunday after Christmas, NBA I/3.2, published in 2000, is Klaus Hoffmann, not Alfred Dürr et al, who are the authors of the companion publication, NBA I/3.1, for the preceeding Third Day of the Christmas Festival.
Cantata BWV 152 for the Sunday after Christmas provides me with a serendipitous opportunity to address the theme of "Bach and the Church Seasons - Between and Beyond."
First are the thoughts of contemporary theologian Father Richard Rohr:
Prophetic Voices
"Today (June 24) is the feast of John the Baptist, the prophet shouting in the desert. We have always considered him sort of our patron here at the Center for Action and Contemplation. It is now exactly six months until Christmas Eve, and the Christian version of the summer solstice. John the Baptist's `birthday is seen as the counterpart to Jesus' birthday who is born when it appears to be winter, but light is already returning.
"Now at the height of summer, we are reminded that the darkness is already returning too. That is often the unwelcome role of the prophet, to reveal the shadow side of things when everyone is cheering and celebrating supposed victories. John's memorable statement that `He must grow greater and I must grow smaller' was seen mirrored in the very cycles of the cosmos. Christianity does not always realize how nature-based its messages invariably are, and how we can know them just by `looking'."
Thus we are at the mid-point of the year, or the half-year, what my granddaughter calls "Half-Christmas. "While the theme of the emerging light, both solar and Christ, has been around for a couple millennia, the emphasis on the theme of emerging darkness probably less. Bach continually conflated these two dualistic principles at key times of the year: the Advent and birth of a living and dying Jesus and the suffering and death of a re-living Christ. Then there are the final Sundays of Trinity, emphasizing both apocalypse and eternity, judgment and banquet, as Eric Chafe points out in "Aspects of the Liturgical Year, p. 14, <Analyzing Bach Cantatas>.
Whether or not one choose to buy into the theology or even the process of interpretation of the theology (hermeneutics) as portrayed by Chafe, the author produces an engaging template, key or map to understanding some of Bach's basic motives, especially as they relate to his realization of his concept of a well-ordered church music, in particular Bach's use of specific chorales and texts, as well as his choice of performing forces and musical styles such as dance rhythms.
Another related, strong voice, on a more mundane and historical level is Güther Stiller in his description of pivotal times, such as the Sunday after Christmas, in his <JSB and Liturgical Life in Leipzig>. Here there are strong liturgical ties to the hymn books of the time - although, admittedly, Cantata BWV 152 contains in its score no typical closing four-part chorale. Christmas hymns could be sung tthe Christmas and Epiphany seasons (p. 237) until the Feast of Purification (February 2) or the earliest possible date for the beginning of the penitential Lent season. At the same time, Bach was able to interchange various post-Christmas Festival chorales (and related service readings) for the Sundays after Christmas and New Years as well as the festival of New Year's Day.
Thus the three extant cantatas, designated by Bach to be performed on the Sunday after Christmas, reflect this flexibility. The first, BWV 152, "Tread on the Path of Belief," with its Salomo Franck libretto, addresses the Gospel sermon theme of fidelity through faith, in the face of a choice between embracing or rejecting sacred teachings which are both a sanctuary and a vexation to all peoples (Dürr, Bach's Cantatas, pp. 133-36). Chorale Cantata BWV 122, "The New-Born Child," "nowhere takes account of the readings of the day" but instead "follows an old tradition in (its Schneegaß hymn) celebrating Christmas and New Year at the same time" (p. 139). Celebratory Cantata BWV, "Praise God, the Year Comes to an End," to a Neumeister text, eschews the appointed readings to emphasize general seasonal thanksgiving and praise as well as a petition that the blessing will continue in the New Year (p. 142).
As to the intention and meaning of the Sunday after Christmas, it is midway between Christmas and New Years. In old Lutheran service books it was known as the "Sunday within the Octave of Christmas," or the eight days of celebration. Its Gospel theme (Luke 2: 33-40) is submission to the law, and its Epistle theme (Galatians 4: 1-7) is redemption in the "fullness of the time." My source is Paul Zeller Strodach: <The Church Year: Studies in the Introits, Collects , Epistles and Gospels> (1924), pp. 48-49.
More from Chafe in the coming weeks, especially the pivotal role of the Christmas Oratorio (BWV 248). |
|
William L. Hoffman wrote (June 26, 2009):
BWV 152: Creativity and Lost Cantatas
Evan Cortens wrote:
<< I wonder if you might have a citation for Prof. Wolff's study? I must confess, I wasn't aware of it, and I'm looking forward to digging into it! >>
Ed Myskowski wrote:
< See for example, Wolff, JSB:TLM, p. 200, as previously cited by Will Hoffman. I fully agree this is worth digging into in more detail. Perhaps some of us (myself included) have tossed Wolffs ideas and numbers around a little too loosely? >
William L. Hoffman replies with some Fugitive Notes:
1. Bach rarely used the term cantata for his church pieces and never talked about these in the context of yearly cycles, only as part of "well-ordered music." Telemann and other composers did so, as well as librettists, including Picander.
2. As Leipzig cantor, Bach is thought to have disposed of most of the music of his immediate predecessor, Kuhnau.
3. Bach's Obituary lists only genres of his works, rarely accounting for exact numbers or specific titles. While it is a cursory account, it is basically accurate in that the types of music listed have all been found while no works omitted have been found.
4. I think there is considerable and growing collateral and circumstantial evidence to suggest that few Bach works of significance are irretrievably lost, like a possible Pentecost Oratorio, while scant evidence exists to the contrary -- a phrase here or there or a receipt for blank music sheets. I don't mean to be a cynic, but it reminds me of the search in the Southwest for the mythic Lost Cities of Gold. It sure created a cottage industry of soldiers and miners searching and digging. |
|
Evan Coretns wrote (June 26, 2009):
William L. Hoffman wrote:
< 1. Bach rarely used the term cantata for his church pieces and never talked about these in the context of yearly cycles, only as part of "well-ordered music." Telemann and other composers did so, as well as librettists, including Picander. >
Certainly I agree here. I was not specifically referring to J.S. Bach's terminology, but rather the terminology used in the obituary and in Forkel. I confess I don't have the original German handy, but I quote from the NBR:
Obituary: (1) Five full annual cycles [Jahrgaenge] of church pieces, [Evan: Kirchenstuecken, I'm presuming] for all the Sundays and holidays; [NBR, p. 304]
Forkel: (1) Five complete sets of Church Music [Kirchenmusik, I'm guessing?] for all the Sundays and Holidays of the year. [NBR, p. 472]
Furthermore, though J. S. Bach himself may not refer to the cantatas as cycles, he seems nevertheless to have composed in them, certainly for the first two years in Leipzig. (I confess, as I've said in previous emails, I'm skeptical about post-1725 cantatas.) Starting from the first Sunday after Trinity 1723 and going until Trinity 1724, and again in 1724-25, Bach seems to have conceived of these as units. Certainly this is clearer in the second cycle, the so-called chorale cantata cycle.
< 3. Bach's Obituary lists only genres of his works, rarely accounting for exact numbers or specific titles. While it is a cursory account, it is basically accurate in that the types of music listed have all been found while no works omitted have been found. >
Of the sixteen lines under "unpublished works", nine have numbers. Of these nine, six are the number six (interesting coincidence there, perhaps?). Though these works weren't published of course, six is a fairly standard number of works in an opus in the eighteenth century. (Among others, Elaine Sisman has recently written on this in the Wolff Festschrift.) In the remaining three, we have "twice twenty-four preludes and fugues", i.e. the well-tempered clavier and the "five Jahrgaenge" and the "five Passions." I realize I'm rambling a bit here, but what I'm trying to say is that just because the numbers for 7 of the 9 are accurate does not mean we must trust the remaining 2. Especially because these 7 all have recognized associations, namely the opus concept and the number of major and minor keys.
In the Terry edition of the Forkel bio, the footnote for the passions speculates that perhaps the number five was given so as to correspond with the number of cantatas. As I've said, I don't think we can take either number for granted.
< 4. I think there is considerable and growing collateral and circumstantial evidence to suggest that few Bach works of significance are irretrievably lost, like a possible Pentecost Oratorio, while scant evidence exists to the contrary -- a phrase here or there or a receipt for blank music sheets. I don't mean to be a cynic, but it reminds me of the search in the Southwest for the mythic Lost Cities of Gold. It sure created a cottage industry of soldiers and miners searching and digging. >
Agreed. Don't get me wrong, I'd love if someone found a previously-unknown cache of J. S. Bach's music in an attic somewhere, I just don't think it likely. I wish to clarify of course that I don't believe that we have every piece of music Bach ever wrote, clearly there have been losses. What I mean to suggest is that we have "circumstantial evidence" (to quote you, Will) of the existence of much music. For instance: lost secular cantatas preserved in sacred versions; lost oboe concertos preserved as organ sinfonias; lost violin concertos preserved as harpsichord concertos, and so on.
Certainly there is more work to be done in this area, the last serious questioning of the number "five" was in the late sixties, in a brief exchange between Scheide and Dürr, totaling thirteen pages or so.
Agreed, fascinating stuff! |
|
Jean Laaninen wrote (June 28, 2009):
Douglas Cowling wrote:
< Any why just exhausted singers? Why not exhausted instrumentalists? The wonderful sinfonia which opens this cantata is an extraordinary technical and ensemble workout.
Bach knew the work load of the church year and clearly was able to plan for it. That's well-regulated music! >
I am inclined to agree with Doug. Choirs can of course tire, but it doesn't seem to me that Bach would base his work on that criteria--but rather use his creativity in a varied manner to keep the congregation atuned to the seasonal influence in varied ways. |
| |
|
BWV 152 & 158 this weekend in San Francisco Bay Area |
|
Richard Mix wrote (January 6, 201):
I will be singing in a program of Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn plus odds and ends that the Freeway Philharmonic (http://www.freewayphil.com/) have put together before at various church jobs. Below are details and my program notes, a bit of an exercise in six degrees of separation at moments, but the music hangs together quite nicely, I think. Let me publicly thank Francis Browne for making translations available and for graciously assenting to a tweek or two!
Walking the line:
Arias and cantatas Bach & his contemporaries
Friday, 7 January 2011 at 11:15 AM
St. David of Wales Catholic Church
5641 Esmond Ave., Richmond
Sunday, 9 January 2011, 8:00 PM
St. Luke’s Lutheran Church,
2491 San Miguel Dr., Walnut Creek
Meine Seele hört im Sehen G. Fr. Händel
Ad te levavi oculos Fr. Couperin
*Wie zittern und wanken (from BWV 105) J. S. Bach
Komm, süsses Kreuz (Matthew’s Passion) J. S. Bach
Ich folge dir gleichfals (John’s Passion) J. S. Bach
*** Intermission ***
*Der Friede sei mit dir, BWV 158 J. S. Bach
*Concerto for recorder, oboe, violin, bassoon & continuo, P. 403 A. Vivaldi
Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn, BWV 152 J. S. Bach
* Sunday night only
Jennifer Owen, soprano
Richard Mix, bass
Ondine Young, violin
Marion Rubinstein, recorder
Moira Little, baroque oboe
Amy Brodo, bass & treble viols
Roy Wheldon, bass viol & violone
Yueh Chou, baroque bassoon
Jonathan Salzedo, organ & harpsichord
Ann Callaway, harpsichord
can be traced back much further. This attitude to nature is evident in the poetry of Brockes’ Irdisches Vergnügen in Gott, from whose 1724 printing Handel, already resident in London but much more at home in his mother tongue, drew the text for Meine Seele hört in Sehen.
The Old Testament portrays the wilderness as a refuge from oppressors as well as a terrifying desert. Couperin’s motet Ad te levavi oculos meos would originally have been sung during the first part of low masses (up to the Elevation of the Host) at the chapel of Versailles.
Bach’s two surviving Passions contain descriptions of the contrasting journeys of two followers of Jesus. The aria Komm, Süßes Kreuz comments on Simon of Cyrene helping to carry the cross, while Ich folge dir gleichfalls is sung after the Evangelist recounts the scattering of the disciples after Jesus’ arrest, with only Simon Peter following (albeit at a safe distance). The cantata BWV 105, Herr, gehe nicht ins Gericht describes a sinner’s faltering steps toward repentance. The 3rd movement makes telling use of the shivering effect on string instruments pioneered by Lully in Isis (1677) and familiar to Mark Morris fans from the chattering chorus in Purcell’s King Arthur (1691).
The shortest of Bach’s cantatas, Der Friede sei mit dir (BWV 158) has come down to us as a cantata for Easter III in a posthumous copy by Bach’s last pupil, Christian Friedrich Penzel, who also noted an alternate designation as a cantata for the Purification (Feb. 2, nowadays known as the Presentation or Candlemas). For this reason it is assumed that the central aria, paralleling the canticle of Simeon (see 201 in the pew hymnal), is a fragment of some original version, possibly from Bach’s Weimar period (1708-1717). 1724 and 1735 have both been proposed as the possible date of the reworking for Leipzig, with the opening arioso on the resurrected Jesus’ greeting to the disciples and the closing chorale on Luther’s Easter hymn (see hymnal 370 for the other verses).
Vivaldi’s Concerto per flauto [dolce, i.e. recorder], aubois, [sic, a witness to the ascendacy of French woodwind builers] violino, fagotto e basso (403 in Pincerle’s catalogue) is one of a series of chamber concerti that circulated throughout Europe in spite of being unpublished. Bach most likely became acquainted with them at the court in Dresden; the transcriptions he made of other works by Vivaldi suggest that he was an admirer.
In 18c Weimar the government year officially began on a Monday, so the Sunday following Christmas was both an occasion for a New Year’s cantata exhorting citizens to start off on the right foot and a vacation for the choir. The text for the sermon (Luke 2: 33-40) relates the second part of Simeon’s prophesy at Jesus’ presentation in the temple: “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce your own soul also), that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed.” |
| |
|
Continue on Part 5 |
|
|
