Cantata BWV 39 - Discussions

Cantata BWV 39 Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot Discussions
Discussions in the Week of June 17, 2001
Aryeh Oron wrote (June 19, 2001): Background This is the week of Cantata BWV 39 according to Thomas Braatz’ suggestion, the 4^th one in his proposed list of cantatas for discussion. As a short background for this cantata, I shall use this time Oxford Companion (by Konrad Küster): “Cantata BWV 39 was composed for the first Sunday after Trinity (June 23) 1726. That Sunday had a special significance for Bach; on the corresponding day in 1723 he had entered his Leipzig post with a performance of cantata BWV 75 (already discussed in the BCML, A.O.); and on its first anniversary he inaugurated a series of chorale cantatas with BWV 20. In 1725 Bach apparently abandoned the practice of alluding to his installation, and BWV 39 comes as one in a series of cantatas which extends from February 1726 to the end of September. During this period Bach had resource to church music originated in the court chapel of Meiningen: to texts written perhaps by Duke Ernst Ludwig, and to compositions by Bach’s distant cousin, Johann Ludwig Bach. [Snip] The cantata exemplifies what might be called the standard Meiningen pattern: a movement based on the Old Testament passage (in this case Isaiah 58: 7-8); a recitative and aria; a New Testament text (fourth movement; here Hebrews 13: 16); another aria and recitative (the latter typically having two or more sentences, allowing the composer to set the final part as a chorus, as in most of J.L. Bach’ s examples); and, finally, one or more strophes of a chorale. The two Biblical texts are linked in subject-matter; in this cantata the composer theme is that of helping the poor. Bach modifies the structure in tow respects. First, he divided the texts into two parts so that the composition could frame the sermon and the words of institution that followed it [snip]. Also, he designed the whole poetical unit preceding the chorale as a recitative, rather than a recitative followed by a chorus. [Snip]” Complete Recordings I am aware of 6 complete recordings of Cantata BWV 39, and during last week I have been listening to them all. I do not know of any other recording of this cantata, or of any individual movements from it. [2] Wolfgang Gönnenwein (Late 1960’s?) [4] Karl Richter (1974-1975) [5] Gustav Leonhardt (1975) [6] Helmuth Rilling (1982) [7] Philippe Herreweghe (1989-1991) [8] Pieter Jan Leusink (2000) Mvt. 1 - Chorus - Breaking of the bread or feeble footsteps of the hungry people? Original German text: Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot und die, so in Elend sind, führe ins Haus! So du einen nackend siehest, so kleide ihn und entzeuch dich nicht von deinem Fleisch. Alsdenn wird dein Licht herfürbrechen wie die Morgenröte, und deine Besserung wird schnell wachsen, und deine Gerechtigkeit wird für dir hergehen, und die Herrlichkeit des Herrn wird dich zu sich nehmen. English translations (by W. Murray Young) Break for the hungry man thy bread, and those who are in misery lead into thy house, When thou seest someone naked, then clothe him, and withdraw thyself not from thy flesh. Then shall thy light break forth like the dawn, and thy improvement will quickly increase. And thy righteousness will go before thee, and the glory of the Lord will take thee unto itself. Philipp Spitta (1873-1880): “The cantata brings out the meaning of that text in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’, and the cantata is fitly concluded with the sixth verse of the paraphrase of the beatitudes. It is an affecting picture of Christian love, softening with tender hand and pitying sympathy the sorrow of the brethren, and obtaining the highest reward. The peculiar accompaniment, allotted to flutes, oboes, and strings, was very likely suggested to Bach by the idea of the breaking of bread. But how little he cares for such trivial realism is seen, as the number goes on, in a passage where the accompaniment is continued to entirely different words. It gives the piece a tender, dreamy tinge, and this is what Bach chiefly wanted.” Albert Schweitzer (1908, rough translation from Hebrew into English): “Another example of movement description can be found in the first chorus of cantata BWV 39. [snip] The music has initially something fragmented. Spitta assumes that the origin of this fragmentation is the cutting of the bread. But he cannot avoid of adding a reservation [see above]. Here the explanation of the musical picture and its justification are totally improper. It is totally unjustified to claim that Bach continues the imagery into a place in which it is not existed in the text. Furthermore, no listener can hear in this music the breaking of the bread. What is the meaning of this music? The monotonic instrumental accompaniment with the rhythmic movement of the quavers in the Basso continuo reminds us more of a march. The voices break the calm, in such a way that we can imagine feeble and unstable steps [musical example]. Therefore, the music describes the poor people, supported and brought into the house. When the words ‘into thy house’ pass, the accompaniment abandon this description and it is built gradually from other themes.” W. Gillies Whittaker (1959): “The crowning glory of the cantata is the opening chorus, varied, flexible, imaginative, every phrase is mirrored in music of superb quality. It is another miracle of the master’s, for it must have conceived and written in desperate haste. The German version differs from the English; the former is ‘Break for the hungry thy bread’, the latter ‘Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house?’ Two flutes à bec begin with two repeated quavers, weak to strong, two oboes follow, then upper strings [musical example]. Spitta (who misdates the cantata) and Schering see in this the breaking of bread, Schweitzer the tottering of the weak. This otherwise inexplicable idea, supported throughout the continuo detached quavers, occupies the first 13 bars. Then the flutes in thirds, imitated by the oboes, play short semiquaver groups, the upper strings taking over the detached quavers from the bassi, while the continuo gives out a new version of the repeated two-note figure [musical example]. The significance of the latter is shown later, as it accompanies the choir when it sings ‘führe ins Haus’ (‘take into the house’). The woodwind now sustain. Violin I repeats (a figure from the example), violin II and viola keep up the detached quavers and the bassi bear the most important idea, an upward rush growing more and more intense [music example]” [Snip] Alec Robertson (1972): “The imaginatively devised orchestral introduction has been taken to represent the breaking of the bread or, which is much more likely interpretation, the feeble footsteps of the hungry coming up to receive it. The orchestral prelude ends with a new theme which will be used at the words ‘Take into the house’, at which point the tottering main theme and the detached notes of the continuo give place to different figuration as if depicting the warm welcome the hungry receive. The words, to the end of this section, are based on Isaiah 58: 7-8, ‘Is not [the fast I choose] to share the bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house, when you see the naked, to cover him and not to hide yourself from your own flesh’. It brings Jesus’ words to mind, ‘Inasmuch as you do it unto them, you do it unto me’ and his denunciation of the careless rich. Isaiah continues, ‘Then shall thy light break forth as the morning and thy healing shall spring forth speedily; and thy righteousness shall go beforthee.’ Bach sets the paraphrase of these last words to a glorious fugue, with two expositions, and so brings to an end one of his finest choruses and one that is worthy indeed of the inspired words of Isaiah.” Alfred Dürr (1974, liner notes to the Teldec recording) “Among the movements of this mature Bach composition, the introductory chorus stands out because of its expansive layout. In structure, the multi-part feature is just as pleasing as the independent instrumental treatment of the instrumental concerto, and the text-construing imagery of the figuration school. Its form has many parts: the fugal section “Alsdenn wird dein Licht herfürbrechen“, which introduced the third (last) major part, is the same subject as the concluding section “, und die Herrlichkeit des Herrn…“. In this way Bach succeeds in rounding off the form of the final section, just as he had managed to do so in the opening section by repeating the same text as at the beginning. When the instruments are dealt with independently they also serve to interpret the text, especially significantly at the beginning, by distributing the chords among the recorder, oboes and string, whereby the ‘distributing’ of bread to the hungry is illustrated.” Murray W. Young (1989): The text for this number comes from Isaiah 58: 7-8, which Bach sets superbly, reflecting all the meaning suggested in the phrases of the libretto. This chorus is a marvellous creation – the high point of the whole work. The first half contains a step-motif of exhaustion, depicting the tottering, staggering steps of the poor, to whom food and shelter should be given, according to the biblical text. The second half changes to a rapid fugue in two parts, which portrays the spiritual rewards bestowed by the Lord on the charitable. It is movement of intense emotion and of powerful eloquence both in music and in singing.” Simon Crouch (1996, 1998): “Listen to this cantata to hear a master craftsman at work! Perhaps there are not the greatest heights of Bach's melodic inspiration here, but what there is wonderfully used. The best is probably first: An excellent opening chorus (setting some of the words of Isaiah) with orchestral introduction, choral middle and fugal end that may very well remind you in texture of the motets.” Konrad Küster (Oxford Companion, 1999): “As in most cases, the opening movement of BWV 39 is a chorus. The biblical text is quite long, and Bach set it as a multi-sectional movement (G minor) comprising several fugal parts.” Dingemann van Wijnen (Liner notes to the Brilliant Classics recording, 2000): “The two-note motive repeated throughout the magnificent opening chorus indicates the breaking of the bread of which the text speaks (Albert Schweizer, however, think it expresses the tottering of the weak). The choir enters and there is a break in the music after ‘brich’. This is the beginning of a long chain of intensely beautiful musical ideas: intense sadness on ‘Elend’, long runs on ‘führe’ expressive of the leading of the destitute (a motive already found in the orchestral opening), a fugue on ‘Brich dem Hungrigen‘ with a splendidly long theme, the voices coming together on ‘führe ins Haus’, a short intermezzo at ‘So du einen nackend siehest’ – and then there are two fantastic fugues still to come, the theme of the one on ‘und die Herrlichkeit’ basically the same as that on ‘Alsdenn wird dein Licht’. Review of the Recordings [2] Wolfgang Gönnenwein (7:50) As always, Gönnenwein is authoritative and very reliable, very much aware of what he is doing. Every thing is in its place, and every detail and voice can be clearly heard. But something is missing. Maybe is it some enthusiasm and feeling of involvement? [4] Karl Richter (8:15) Richter has shown us in many cases in the past that he knows how to draw a picture and to paint it with strong colours. It is surprising to find out that here he abandon all the possibilities suggested by the music and the text and adopt instead an architectural approach. This is a multi-sectional movement, and the hands of other conductors it might sound fragmented. After hearing this rendition several times, I think that Richter tried to build here a complete picture, like a big cathedral. But during the building he forgot that not only the general impression is important, but also the minor details have major significance in creating the full image. For example, I thing that no one can hear in the first section either the cutting of the bread or the feeble steps of the poor people. [5] Gustav Leonhardt (9:11) The picture portrayed by Leonhardt’s is wonderful and magical. There are some cases where the approach of the conductor and the demands of the piece of music match each other. And this is one of those cases. I like everything here - the ancient imagery portrayed by the old instruments, the precise, sensitive and multi-layered singing of the choir, the tempo, the changing of the mood from one section to the other. This rendition is very different from Rilling’s and it still maintains the same high level. [6] Helmuth Rilling (6:44) Rilling knows how to draw a picture and how to paint it. The image he creates is so strong, that I am convinced by his interpretation that the music represents to steps of the poor people, and not the breaking of the bread. This Impression is intensified in the moment they enter the house. A towering joy is pouring out of their singing. The singing, the separation of the voices in the fugues, the accompaniment – all of them are on the highest level. And there is also a feeling of continuity along the whole movement. [7] Philippe Herreweghe (7:46) This is elegant and delicate rendition. It s almost transparent. I could hear every detail, as I did with Rilling. It is indeed charming but something was missing. Maybe it is too clean and elegant? Thinking about the poor people, I thought of them as wearing dirty and torn cloths. But here the image I get is that they are walking with light and elegant steps and with clean cloths. [8] Pieter Jan Leusink (6:58) If Herreweghe’s recording sounded to me too clean, the case here is the opposite. The playing and the singing here are dirty, even too dirt. One can clearly hear that not much preparation had been dedicated before this rendition was recorded. It is fragmented and many points are missed. In short not one of the best moments of Leusink and his forces and not the recommended way to being introduced to this marvellous movement. Before Conclusion Earlier today I had to go to a customer’s site for a presentation. I suggested to one of the senior managers (a lady) of the company to join me, tempting her by saying that she can expect an interesting experience during the journey. The experience was, of course, listening to a Bach Cantata. In this case it was BWV 39, the cantata of this week. We had a limited amount of time, and therefore we were able to listen only to the opening chorus. I gave her short background about the dilemma of the image represented by the first part of the chorus – ‘Breaking of the bread or feeble footsteps of the hungry people?’ The journey proved to be shorter that what we had planned, and therefore we were able to listen to only five recordings (leaving Leonhardt out), in the following order - Rilling, Leusink, Richter, Herreweghe, and Gönnenwein. When we came back to the office she summerized for me her impressions, as follows: Rilling [6] - Sharp and precise Leusink [8] - Sloppy. She resembled it to a dance in which some movements are broken in the middle. The musical line was similar to that of the first recording (Rillig), but it failed to achieve the same level of sharpness end precision. Richter [4] - She did not like it. She thought that it was schmaltz, outpouring, and rounded. Herreweghe [7] - No. Gönnenwein [2] - Left her indifferent. Her favourite recordings were the first (Rilling) [6] and the fourth (Herreweghe) [7]. She said that it was a unique experience for her. This was the first time she was able to listen to the same piece of music in different recordings in succession. She was astonished to discover how different from each other they sounded. Conclusion My preferred recordings of the opening chorus (Mvt. 1) are Rilling’s [6] and Leonhardt's, while Herreweghe [7] is only a small step behind. The weakest is Leusink [8]. One last thing I would like to note. Some of the writers whom I have quoted above think that the other movements of this cantata are not of great value. IMO, those movements have a lot to offer and deserve special attention. Due to limitations of time and space I have not been able to go deeply into them, but in all my listenings to this cantata I heard it as a complete unity (well except one, mentioned above), and I found myself enjoying also the rest of the cantata. But at this stage I feel that that I have only started to explore possibilities and the layers of the opening movement, and if I wanted to go deeper in the this cantata (the first movement and the rest), it would take me at least a full month. If we decided to dedicate one month per cantata, this traversal (of discussing the complete Bach Cantatas) would have taken us 16 years instead of four! And this is a little bit beyond my possibilities! And as always, I would like to hear other opinions, regarding the above mentioned performances, or other recordings.
Thomas Braatz wrote (June 20, 2001): BWV 39 - Commentary & Provenance See: Cantata BWV 39 - Commentary See: Cantata BWV 39 - Provenance BWV 39 - Review of the Recordings The recordings I have for comparision are Richter (1974-5) [4]; Leonhardt (1975) [5]; Rilling (1982) [6], Herreweghe (1989-1991, 1993) [7]; Leusink (2000) [8]. Mvt. 1 [4] Richter's initial two-note (eighth note) motif, none of which are marked in any way by Bach, sounds as if he is using the horizontal-bar-above-the-note technique to create fully sustained notes. The effect is almost one of legato and lightly tied notes. As Aryeh pointed out, Richter seems to be going after an overall structural effect, and by using this technique he loses the sense of 'pieces' of bread falling as they are broken. What he achieves is remarkable in another sense: there is a layering stretto effect which gives continuity and solidity to the musical presentation. He does not need the staccato effect that other conductors use, because Bach has included many rests in every part and this stresses the fragmentation. The fugal sections are sung with firmness and conviction that are lacking in all the other versions except Rilling's. On the negative side, Richter's choir has some slight intonation problems in the first section -- at this point you can hardly hear his doubling of all the choir parts on the organ, but he pulls more stops until you reach the final fugue where his 'noodling' organ playing becomes distracting, but the choir is less likely to sing out of tune here and that is perhaps what he wanted to accomplish. Richter does not use recorders. What would you expect otherwise? Recorders are no match for his orchestral forces unless you stick a microphone underneath each one, so the silver Böhm flutes are used instead. He modernizes the text: "nacket" becomes "nackend." [5] Leonhardt, at a semi-tone lower, uses the slowest tempo of all. Compared to Richter, there is more separation between each eighth note, but at times, when the choir is singing, the slow tempo combined with the typical Harnoncourt/Leonhardt accenting of each note separately results in a plodding movement that almost collapses at times under the heavy weight and separation of the notes. Perhaps this was the effect Leonhardt sought, but for me this is not musical enough because it creates the impression that the music will threaten to fall apart at any moment. It becomes boring, it lacks spunk, and the voices sound disinterested in what they are singing. Section B is a little faster, but just when you think he has built a structure that would lead into Section C 3/8 being faster yet and representing what the words are trying to say, great disappoint occurs with what is probably the slowest tempo in this final section of all the recordings. The choir should be singing about "die Herrlichkeit" but they are still stuck on the idea of the plodding steps of the poor. The melismas are sung entirely legato as they 'slide' from one note to the next. One good point here is the marvelous sound of the recorders. The bass voice tends to be weak at times, particularly when it does not double with the basso continuo. There is no happiness here in sharing the bread you break because all you can think of is all the sadness that comes from all the suffering that you see. [6] Rilling, who is at the higher pitch, the same as the one Richter uses, takes this mvt the fastest of all my recordings. The eighth-note values are even shorter than Leonhardt, and that must mean something. Unfortunately Rilling persists in having a thick, heavy bass sound that is typical for most of his recordings in this series. If you can, turn down the bass. Unfortunately, I can not do that very easily, so I grin and bear it. Sure, the voices are somewhat operatic and they have had voice training to develop a full voice, otherwise they would not be singing here. There is a precision in their attacks, and all the voice parts can be heard all the time. What a difference when the fugal subjects are announced in the men's parts for the first time! The final stop at the end of the mvt. has do be accomplished with just the right amount of ritardando. Rilling succeeds in doing this masterfully. [7] Herreweghe's recording of this entire cantata suffers (or is enhanced?) by placing the microphones at quite some distance from the players and singers, hence the effect is very different by virtue of this fact alone. His tempo in the 1^st mvt is very much like Leonhardt's, but what a difference Herreweghe achieves! The eighth notes at the beginning are very short, almost staccato. The balance in his instrumental forces is simply wonderful compared to all the "Let's-make-sure-the-bass-is-really-loud-enough fanatics (Rilling, Leusink, Richter, and even Harnoncourt/Leonhardt)" I savor these moments in listening to the Bach cantatas. It is very obvious that Herreweghe has not only put much thought into how the piece should sound (Harnoncourt claims he always does this too and I do not want to dispute him on this point), but he also has a remarkable quality that most other Bach conductors, who claim they represent and present Bach's intentions, lack: the ability to understand how to achieve a beautiful choir sound. My only objection here is that the tenors and basses (probabably only 2 to a part) are weak in comparison to the high voices who do very well. Intonation is superb. The general effect of the entire interpretation of this mvt. by Herreweghe is one of reticence and understatement. His interpretation of the mvt. is one of a polite request, without the 'take-it-or-leave-it" quality that others have made of this mvt. There is great sensitivity to feelings: just listen to the expression "Elend" as it is sung. I can really feel the sadness. He increases the tempo in section B and creates a contrast and tension between sections. [8] Leusink takes the 1st section even faster with very short eighth-notes. The orchestra, which has a fine sound (if you discount the overly strong bass line) seems to be very much in front of everything in the recording. From the very first notes of the chorus, however, when you hear the sopranos and altos (falsettists) enter, you know it is not going to get any better. The higher the falsettists sing, the worse it becomes, until all you have is a bunch of yodlers, crying out like cowboys. As much effort as these voices put out, the others remain limp in their expression and seem mostly disinterested. The German word, "brechen" is pronounced "breschen." I simply can not understand why Leusink was unable to 'reign in' the voices that were definitely spoiling this entire production. Since I usually listen to each recording 4 or 5 times before describing my reaction, I must admit that my range of emotions go from simply being perplexed to the beginnings of an anger that issues from having a performance not 'grow on me', but rather tends to drag me into the dirt. There is a vast difference between a non-committal type of performance that lacks spirit or energy, and one that 'screams to high heaven' because of the negative qualities that I have pointed out in this and the past cantatas that have been recorded by this group. Mvt. 2 & Mvt. 4 Bass Recitative and (No name) Arioso? [4] From the first time I heard Richter's Fischer-Dieskau singing these mvts., I knew they would be unforgettable. In just about the most perfect German diction that a singer can have, listen to how he sings "Barmherzigkeit" and "an das Herze dringen." In Mvt. 4 "Wohlzutun." notice how he changes his inflection/expression each time the phrase "Vergesset nicht" ("Don't forget") is sung. Each one has a character of its own (pleading, cajoling, etc.) In the second section the phrase is repeated 3 times, each time beginning on a higher note. When Bach writes this out this way, he is, in essence, saying to the singer, "you know what I want here, so go ahead and do it." [5] Leonhardt's van Egmond's usually sounds muffled and unclear to me, but here he is much clearer than usual. There is not much expression in his voice and it sounds as if he is singing sotto voce much of the time. In the Arioso the repetitions of "Vergesset nicht" begin to sound the same. It is as though he is more concerned with what he is doing with his voice rather than thinking about the words and the expression they should have. There is very little contrast in the repeated words. [6] Rilling's Gerihsen has a fully trained voice that would carry well without amplification in a large church, other voices (not Fischer-Dieskau's of course) under consideration simply would fail to make much, if any, impression upon the audience in a larger setting. In the Arioso Rilling's continuo is too loud -- even where Bach marks a 'piano' the basso continuo continues to 'saw away' as if nothing had been indicated. Gerihsen wins the battle against the basso continuo, but at what cost? The expression is not as varied as Fischer-Dieskau's. [7] Herreweghe's Kooy has excellent expression in the recitative. Listen to the wonderful, sensitive accompaniment in the Arioso. Yes, it can be done! Now, in this Arioso, Kooy's voice sounds like any of the numerous 'half-voices' that are singing Bach nowadays. Did they record closer to Kooy in the recitative than in the Arioso? [8] Leusink's Ramselaar does not have much expression, and when he uses is, it becomes too much of a good thing as in "als er mit milder Hand," which does not sound genuine. He also sings the wrong article: "Sie sind DIE Probestein." The Arioso is very fast, and although Ramselaar tries for some expression, he mainly spares his voice by singing sotto voce in places where emphasis should occur. Mvt. 3 Aria & Mvt. 6 Recitative Alto [4] Richter's Anna Reynolds has a full voice, trained in the operatic tradition, with a strange quality in the lower range that I can not fully describe, but her melismas on "streuet" in the aria are very good indeed. The recitative suffers greatly under her attempts to make an opera out of a truly beautiful recitative. There is even a hint of a "Glottis-Anschlag" (a sound that precedes the actual note, indicating that the vocalist has momentarily lost control). [5] Rilling's Schreckenbach is not even as good as Reynolds in that her fast uncontrolled vibrato even operates on the quickly moving melismas. This version is also the fastest of the group. [6] Leonhardt's Jacobs has a clear singing voice with fairly good intonation, but contrary to Esswood who tends to sing flat, Jacobs does just the opposite at times. At least Jacobs does not swoop up to the higher notes as many other counter-tenors do. I was amazed that he was unable to sing the melisma on "streuet" in one breath. The quality in his voice that I do not like is sound of a voice constricted (not open) as if putting his chin on his chest and singing 'ur' all the time. Sometimes it sounds as if the voice would break. I do not like the effect of worrying whether a singer will 'make it' through the piece without the voice breaking at some point. [7] Herreweghe's Brett has no voice at all in the low range. Talk about all the half-voices that are singing Bach today, and here is an example that does not even match that level. There is much too much vibrato throughout. His voice begins to sound like a caricature of this entire class of singers. Too much music is lost (can not be adequately heard, or a distraction occurs because of something the voice is doing) when such a voice is chosen. [8] Leusink's Buwalda also does not have a full voice. It has an unpleasant, thin, metallic quality of voice that lacks roundness. It is as though there is an extra reed vibrating in this throat, a reed that should not be there because it is unpleasant in sound. Buwalda lands at the bottom of the pack, but Leusink's instrumental accompaniment is excellent. Mvt. 5 Soprano Aria [8] Leusink's Holton has a very limited voice, specialized for certain types of Bach mvts. I enjoy her singing of the chorales, for instance, but this aria is not for her with her small voice that reveals its inadequacy in the low range. Even in the high range, she simply 'taps' the notes lightly using a sotto voce with a voice that has little volume to give in the first place. When she sings 'piano' on top of all this, it is such a light and soft treatment, that she almost can not be heard. [7] Herreweghe's Mellon has somewhat more voice than Holton, but she 'swoops' and 'whoop's' up to the high notes (G on top of the treble clef) rather than attacking them cleanly. Her voice is rather uncontrolled, and she does not, or can not sing with a full voice the notes in the lower range – some notes almost disappear. In the last section of the aria, she sings entirely sotto voce and the voice almost disappears. [6] Rilling's Augér has a full soprano voice. This is the version to listen to. Again, she occasionally has a slight problem with her high 'f' and 'g' that tend to sound forced. [5] Leonhardt's Boy Soloist has a stronger, fuller voice than all except Augér. This version is quite acceptable with a good recorder sound in the accompanying instruments. The boy sings "willst" instead of "willt" modernizing the German, which should not happen in this so-called authentic recording of Bach. [4] Richter's Mathhas a rather good beginning for an operatic star, but the vibrato takes over (she loses the ability to control the voice), and after the first few entrances on her part, her singing becomes rather unpleasant to listen to. This has a typical Richter organ accompaniment and, once again, instead of records, regular flutes are used. Mvt. 7 Chorale At the bottom of the list of performances of this 'simple' chorale, there are the Leonhardt [5] and Leusink [8] recordings that have much in common: accenting and separation of each quarter note. This becomes quite belabored and shows no undertanding of the text. Leonhardt and Leusink do not believe the fermati mean anything at all in a Bach chorale. The cutting off of fermati reaches its high, or let's say, its low point with Leusink who has perfected this to an 'art.' Richter's version [4] is faster and he even does well on the fermati, except the last two. Rilling's version [6] is slower, but very well done. Herreweghe [7] puts more character into each line, as he works with phrasing, legato, and even makes expression work for him and the audience. He really does know something about choral directing. His contribution to this art will be worthwhile listening to. Summary Pick and choose, avoid Leusink [8], but choose Rilling [6] (turn down the bass and listen to a confident version of this cantata) and Herreweghe [7] (here is someone who understands what a Bach choral group should sound like, particularly if you would enjoy a delicate, sensitive treatment.) Subtract the voices and listen to Leusink's instrumental ensemble [8] and for a memorable solo presentation listen to Fischer-Dieskau.
Marie Jensen wrote (June 20, 2001): [7] The opening of Herreweghe BWV 39 -- perhaps the best Bach ritornello I have ever heard. The instrument of the poor: the low rank recorder and the human voice oboe break the bread in staccatos and the deep strings build up to a culmination, where everything flows over in a blessed, rich portato notes: The biblic message has come out: share the riches and the whole world will be blessed! Herreweghe’s interpretation is so beautiful, that I can hardly breathe..just listen again and again... All kinds of everyday activities are heard in the following sections of this very industrious opening chorus: even the knitting Anna Magdalena (So du einen nackend siehest, so kleide ihn ).. this opening chorus is really a gift to imagination, so much happens. It is like being in Leipzig again. With such an opening it is easy to forget to listen to the rest of the cantata.... But let us never forget the message: to share our bread with the rest of the world, who has not our fine technical equipment and CD-collections and perhaps never heard of JS Bach or the internet! Remember the starving majorities! Leusink [8] or Herreweghe [7] is a luxury problem! Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot!..
Charles Francis wrote (June 22, 2001): Thomas Braatz wrote: < Summary Pick and choose, avoid Leusink [8], but choose Rilling [6] (turn down the bass and > listen to a confident version of this cantata) and Herreweghe [7] (here is someone who understands what a Bach choral group should sound like, particularly if you would enjoy a delicate, sensitive treatment.) Subtract the voices and listen to Leusink's instrumental ensemble and for a memorable solo presentation listen to Fischer-Dieskau. > Yes, I'll give the nod to Rilling [6] (with his perfect choir control) and Herreweghe [7] (with his lighter "Swingle Singers" approach and "real-church" acoustics). I'm still pleased to have the Leusink [8], however, but do take your point that it probably doesn't grow on one. I rather suspect the idiom of the opening chorus would work well for John Elliot Gardiner [9] - there's something of that "Italian" singing style (shades of Alessandro Scarlatti) which Herreweghe [7] captures well and Gardiner would revel in.

Discussions in the Week of October 21, 2007
Uri Golomb wrote (October 22, 2007): Week of October 22: Cantata 39, Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot Cantata BWV 39 (Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot) was composed for the first Sunday after Trinity -- June 23, 1726. It is divided into two parts, which means (presumably) that it was originally split in two parts, with the sermon taking place between the alto aria (Mvt. 3) and the bass aria (Mvt. 4). Previous discussions -- and links to details on the work's provenance and various commentaries about it -- can be found on http://www.bach-cantatas.com/BWV39-D.htm. The work seems to be celebrated primarily for its opening chorus -- one of Bach's longer movements, combining an elaborate structure, a rich texture (with myriad word-paintings) and profound expressiveness. In his 2001 discussion (see link above), Aryeh Oron argued against those writers who view this opening chorus as superior to the others, stating the work's remaining movements -- recitatives, arias and chorale (Mvt. 7) -- "have a lot to offer and deserve special attention". I agree with this claim, but nonetheless came from my renewed listening feeling that the cantata is somewhat top-heavy. The other movements -- especially, for me, the alto (Mvt. 3) and soprano (Mvt. 5) arias, and alto accompagnato -- are indeed beautifully delicate and touching, yet I find that I can enjoy them more listening to them on their own; coming after that opening chorus, they sound almost anti-climactic. Bach's very best cantatas sound "all of a piece"; here, I felt that the whole was lesser than the sum of its parts, as if Bach assembled movements from different sources. (Except that there are works where Bach really did assemble movements from different sources -- the cantatas of the Christmas Oratorio (BWV 248), for instance -- that nonetheless seem more satisfying as a whole). I always feel ill-at-ease, when criticising anything Bach did -- and especially when talking about a work that does, after all, contain such a magnificent opening chorus. One of the many fascinating features of this movement is how Bach manages to squeeze so many word- and mood-paintings into this movement yet also maintain an overall dramatic arch. To illustrate what I mean about paintings, consider the debate between Spitta and Schweitzer abut the opening text. It's there in the link above, but for convenience, I'm reproducing it: Philipp Spitta (1873-1880): “The cantata brings out the meaning of that text in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’, and the cantata is fitly concluded with the sixth verse of the paraphrase of the beatitudes. It is an affecting picture of Christian love, softening with tender hand and pitying sympathy the sorrow of the brethren, and obtaining the highest reward. The peculiar accompaniment, allotted to flutes, oboes, and strings, was very likely suggested to Bach by the idea of the breaking of bread. But how little he cares for such trivial realism is seen, as the number goes on, in a passage where the accompaniment is continued to entirely different words. It gives the piece a tender, dreamy tinge, and this is what Bach chiefly wanted.” Albert Schweitzer (190, rough translation from Hebrew into English): “Another example of movement description can be found in the first chorus of cantata BWV 39. [snip] The music has initially something fragmented. Spitta assumes that the origin of this fragmentation is the cutting of the bread. But he cannot avoid of adding a reservation [see above]. Here the explanation of the musical picture and its justification are totally improper. It is totally unjustified to claim that Bach continues the imagery into a place in which it is not existed in the text. Furthermore, no listener can hear in this music the breaking of the bread. What is the meaning of this music? The monotonic instrumental accompaniment with the rhythmic movement of the quavers in the Basso continuo reminds us more of a march. The voices break the calm, in such a way that we can imagine feeble and unstable steps [musical example]. Therefore, the music describes the poor people, supported and brought into the house. When the words ‘into thy house’ pass, the accompaniment abandon this description and it is built gradually from other themes.” I think Schweitzer is more convincing than Spitta regarding the orchestral word-painting. What both of them missed, in my view, is that Bach does paint the breaking of the bread -- in the choir. When the choir enters -- in Gardiner's [9] words, "in pairs, and with imploring gestures, emotionally chocked, their pleas breaking and stuttering" -- the bread-breaking is clearly evident (I hope my line-divisions come out OK):
Brich		dem Hun-gri-gen		dein Brot
	Brich		dem Hung-gri-gen	dein Brot
As the movement progresses, Bach finds room to illustrate the words "Elend", "fuehre ins Haus", "wird schnell wachsen", and others; and the richness of the texture is enhanced when different word-paintings are brought simultaneously. The main point, however, is that all these word-paintings intensify -- rather than distract from -- the overall powerful emotional message, which conveys both the suffering and the poor and compassion towards them. I listened to three recordings that have not been discussed in the previous round -- Werner [3] (recently released), and the newer performances by Koopman [11] and Gardiner [9]. They all have their virtues (though Koopman is perhaps the least satisfactory -- feeling too light at times). However, it is Gardiner who ultimately emphasises both the depth of expression and the rich details of Bach's score. His choir and orchestra are constantly alert to all nuances (thereby also showing us just how much detail Bach can bring into a single bar of music); the choir, especially, uses every means -- from dynamic nuance to the shaping of consonants -- to breathe life into virtually every word. The soloists are also superb, giving alert and moving interpretations to their recitatives and arias. Werner is also movingly lyrical, but in a more generalised manner: the textures are clear (though his choir is not nearly as focused as Gardiner's), but the details are simply there: he seems less aware than Gardiner of their significance (or at least less interested in projecting it). I have access to other recordings, and hope to reacquaint myself with them in the course of the week, and perhaps post about them. In the meantime, I hope there's enough here to launch a discussion!
Neil Halliday wrote (October 23, 2007): Uri Golomb wrote: >When the choir enters -- in Gardiner's [9] words, "in pairs, and with imploring gestures, emotionally chocked, their pleas breaking and stuttering" -- the bread-breaking is clearly evident.< This is a marvellous description, by Gardiner [9], of the effect of the first choral entry, regardless of the imagery concerning the breaking of bread. Leonhardt [5], with the slowest tempo of all (9.10), captures this emotion beautifully, with the two "pairs" of the choir sounding in opposite speakers for a stereophonic effect. Much detail can be heard in this magical recording, eg, in bar 35 (last beat) the basses leap above both the altos and tenors who are descending in parallel thirds, and the melisma on "führe" (bars 38-40) is ecstatic. In bar 45 the tenors begin the subject of first fugue in the movement, but since this begins before the end of the preceding section - which ends on the first beat of bar 47 - some study of the score will be required to hear this tenor entry in the recordings. The last fugue ("and the glory of the Lord...") has the entries (in varied form) in the order B,T,A, recorders, S; the basses and tenors have extraordinarily long phrases - 18 and 21 bars respectively! - set to the single syllable "neh-(men)". ---------- Gardiner's [9] and Koopman's [11] bass arias are rather fast, missing out on the broad, pleasingly expansive nature of the continuo theme and on a clear presentation of the quasi-canonic interaction between voice and cello. Richter [4] especially has a pleasing organ realisation with 2-foot stop, etc; Leonhardt [5] is excellent; some the the other organ realisations are dull. I found the the charming alto (Mvt. 3) and soprano (Mvt. 5) arias pleasing in most recordings (though I have my favourites). Richter [4] shows the soprano aria works very well with modern flute, in place of the unison recorders. I like the solid, relatively 'gesture-free' performances of the final chorale (Mvt. 7) from Gardiner [9] and Koopman [11]. Werner [3] is pleasing; Richter [4] is too forceful for this closing chorale. Depending on mood, the fastest of the opening choruses - Rilling (6.45) [6] - with its precision and accuracy, can also be enjoyable, which demonstrates the amazing range of interpretations that Bach's music is able to survive.
Bart O'Brien wrote (October 25, 2007): I bought the Gönnenwein LP [2] with its sleeve image of the Grunwald Crucifixion soon after it came out in 1966. Since then this has always been my favourite Bach cantata of all. Whenever I listen to that opening chorus it is a real occasion. So in this week of all weeks I suppose I ought to find the energy to make a contribution to the group. The only CD of the work that I have is the Herreweghe [7]. What a difference! Gönnenwein's [2] opening chorus (Mvt. 1) is sublime while Herreweghe's is delicate. With Gönnenwein the music just flows with irresistible power and beauty. Herreweghe, on the other hand, finds and exaggerates a fragmented, halting character in the music. After hearing the Gönnenwein yesterday I put on the Herreweghe straight away, and it was going from the sublime to, well, literally, the ridiculous. The opening bars seemed so jerky that it sounded as if someone was deliberately making fun of the piece. I just had to stop the CD. Nevertheless, when I haven't heard the Gönnenwein for a while, the Herreweghe interpretation can have a certain attractive elegance. I definitely prefer the Gönnenwein performance [2]. I wish it was on CD. I do enjoy and admire the Herreweghe performance [7] - when played at a safe distance from the Gönnenwein - but if Herreweghe's had been the performance placed on one side of that LP in 1966 I don't think that Cantata BWV 39 would have become quite so special to me these four decades. But, some may say, Herreweghe's interpretation [7] is the more appropriate: music of that chorus (Mvt. 1) ought to have a fragmented, halting character to fit the words about the destitute, stumbling, imploring people. Although, on the other hand, maybe Herreweghe is just too elegant to do justice to the misery of hunger and homelessness? So perhaps a halting but grimmer interpretation of this music would be better? I read such opinions with interest and then move on. What I enjoy in a Bach cantata is the sound that I hear and I don't care how well or badly the music fits the words or whether one performance fits the words better than another. This is much too big a topic to tackle rigorously here. I've just jotted down some notes about the text of this cantata in no particular order: 1 This music is extremely beautiful. Being destitute is extremely unpleasant. So, extremely beautiful music representing something that is extremely unpleasant? How would that work exactly? 2 The opening text (Mvt. 1) speaks of `breaking bread' with the hungry To `break bread' with someone normally means to share a meal. Yes, the word `break' is there, but only as part of an established expression; it has no sense of literally breaking anything like a vase or a window. So - if I did care about the relation between words and music, which I've said I don't - I'd think it a bit silly of a composer if he wrote music meant to represent the word `break' in this expression. 3 Among the comments already made in this group are phrases such as "the tottering of the weak", "the feeble footsteps of the hungry", "distributing of bread to the hungry", "tottering, staggering steps of the poor", "the leading of the destitute", "the feeble steps of the poor people", "feeble footsteps of the hungry people". I can see how people find hints of some of these things in the music, but just to be clear: there is nothing at all in the text about poor people lining up or processing in any way, or about their having difficulty in standing or walking. Indeed if the music did depict poor people lining up on a street corner for soup, that would contradict the notion of `breaking bread' with the poor - not donating money to run soup-kitchens, not giving away leftovers, but inviting them into your home to share your own meal. 4 For the opening text (Mvt. 1) about feeding the hungry and housing the homeless Bach writes music that can be related to (or at any rate can be performed as relating to) stumbling, imploring, hungry and homeless people. For the following text about clothing the naked, he begins a more vigorous fugue. This music can be related to . . . what? Well, in 2001, one member visualised Anna Magdalena Bach knitting clothes, but I doubt that anybody else has managed to hear that. If I did care about the relation between words and music - which I've said I don't - I might feel disappointed that, after dealing with the hungry and homeless, Bach's inspiration ran out, he couldn't think of any music to paint the words of the next part of the text about the naked, and so he just composed an ordinary fugue. 5 The whole text of this chorus (Mvt. 1) sets out a cost-benefit analysis. The first half is about doing works of charity, and the second half, with just as much emphasis, is about the benefits you yourself will then gain. Incur the costs of giving away food and clothes to the poor now, and your return on that investment will be that you go to Heaven for all eternity (I think that is what the text is saying). Is it likely that the listener who believes that this is indeed a correct cost-benefit analysis will enjoy the music more than one who thinks it is, well, not true at all because there isn't any Heaven? And what about somebody who loathes these sentiments, believing that you should do good deeds without considering any longterm payback for yourself? As I said, I'm only interested in the beauty of this music, and I've loved it for a very long time. I've just listened to the Gönnenwein performance [2] again, and the sheer sound that I hear is so sublime that for me the question of whether the words of the text actually mean anything sensible is quite irrelevant.
Jean Laaninen wrote (October 25, 2007): [To Bart O'Brien] I listened to this cantata the day before we found out about the problem with IE and Real Player since I had been out of the loop for several weeks. And I have to agree the listening is beautiful--perhaps deep in places. Maybe what you described below is a kind of Lutheran thing. A few years ago there was an appeal at church for people to support a church based program for children in need in other countries than the US. To make the appeal, the organist pre-programed the modern organ with various musical works that were intended at points to wrench the heart and extract from the pocketbook., and she also played along with these numbers. All the while this was going on images of the work of distant adoption of children in need were flashed on several walls of the interior of the church for people to see. There were already supporters of this program in the church, but more were added that day. Today famous musicians also lend their gifts to world issues, including the very needy. When I was a child in a pastor's home, people used to come to our backdoor asking for a little job so they could have a meal. I remember that Dad let them mow the lawn, and then mom cooked a good sized meal for them which they would eat in the back yard. They ordinarily did not come at dinnertime. So music has been used for a long time now to get the idea of sharing across, and when the music is beautiful or grand despite the misery of the message I think it conveys nobility in the act of sharing. But whether the words and text always fit together to the ears of any, certainly Bach was a musical master and he could bring depth or beauty to any subject--even drama on so many occasions. And it helps to remember that his writings were often based on texts for a given Sunday. I did have to chuckle at the end though, because certainly you a poking a little fun at the contrasts and the elements some folks see or hear in the text. On the other hand, the creation of music also includes efforts toward inspiring the mind and imagination, and it's easier to see connections in the context of the Lutheran worship service, in my opinion, than outside of it. Thank you for adding your thoughts to this discussion. Bach is serious music, but every moment surrounding is not.
Neil Halliday wrote (October 25, 2007): Bart O'Brien wrote: >>But, some may say, Herreweghe's interpretation [7] is the more appropriate: the music of that chorus (Mvt. 1) ought to have a fragmented, halting character to fit the words about the destitute, stumbling, imploring people. Although, on the other hand, maybe Herreweghe is just too elegant to do justice to the misery of hunger and homelessness? So perhaps a halting but grimmer interpretation of this music would be better? I read such opinions with interest and then move on.<< You raise some interesting points. In Aryeh's excellent introduction back in 2001 (see previous discussions at the BCW) the main 'images' up for discussion were the "breaking of the bread" (Spitta) or the "feeble footsteps" (Schweitzer) but a third image, which in some ways I find altogether more satisfactory, has since been suggested by Craig Smith of Emmanuel Music [10], who wrote: "The short notes from the recorders, oboes and strings can either be read to represent the breaking of the bread or, more compellingly (my emphasis), the teardrops of the hungry. In any case the orchestra is a stunning brackdrop for what is at the beginning a deeply felt and emotional fugue and later on an energetic call to arms." Teardrops! For me, this image seems more appropriately and more compellingly to capture the meaning of the ritornello's unique orchestration, although different conductors' interpreundoubtably stress one image or the other. With Herreweghe [7], I hear elegant motion; Rilling [6], vigorous steps; but consider the first sentence of the text (German word order): "Break (for) the hungry your bread, and those that in misery are, lead into your house". Is not this sentence's chief focus the sorrow of and compassion for the poor and downtrodden? The tears are definitely there in Leonhardt [5], Werner [3] (but his choir lacks focus), Richter [4] (but his choir is too strong), and Smith's own performance [10] of the ritornello (BCW sample). >>This music is extremely beautiful. Being destitute is extremely unpleasant. So, extremely beautiful music representing something that is extremely unpleasant? How would that work exactly?<< and >>The opening text (Mvt. 1) speaks of `breaking bread' with the hungry To `break bread' with someone normally means to share a meal. Yes, the word `break' is there, but only as part of an established expression; it has no sense of literally breaking anything like a vase or a window. So - if I did care about the relation between words and music, which I've said I don't - I'd think it a bit silly of a composer if he wrote music meant to represent the word `break' in this expression.<< Agreed. That's why I prefer the 'teardrop' image as the focus of the first half of the movement. [The setting of the first sentence quoted above comprises more than half the movement. After that, the text and music become progressively more upbeat]. As fas as the setting of the remainder of the text is concerned, I would say (and I think this is Bart's point) that we don't need to look for literal word painting in the music (though there may be some instances of word painting). "If you see a naked (person), so clothe him, and withdraw not from your flesh". The important thing is the change of tempo (4/4 time) and the more positive, upbeat mood. "so then will your light shine forth like the glow of dawn". The first of the 'strong' fugues (in 3/8 time, contrasting with the 'gentle' fugue in the middle of the first choral section). "and your improvement will quickly grow". A non-fugal passage, as is also the following section "and your righteousness shall go before you". "and the glory of the Lord shall be your reward". (literally, shall you to itself take). The powerful fugue returns for the last time, and the movement concludes with an exultant short coda. So we have a marvellous structure of many sections, with the music becoming more and more positive/upbeat as it progresses. BTW, notice that the first sentence itself (with sorrow as the music's focus) is set in three sections, ie, an ABA form with B being a gentle, 'heavenly' fugue. Thanks for your thought provoking post. -------- Smith [10] has written this of the bass aria: "The stern, preachy bass aria is a splash of cold water - Bach at his most severe and Lutheran" but I find that the rich, warm acoustic in the Richter [4] and Werner [3] recordings creates a less austere effect than Smith suggests.
Ed Myskowski wrote (November 2, 2007): BWV 39 recordings Thanks to everyone who posted comments regarding specific recordings of BWV 39. I especially enjoyed the remarks on the Gönnenwein [2] LP, I have a recently acquired copy. In the traditinal vein, the Werner [3] CD reissue is comparable. My preference is for Herreweghe [7], in a more contemporary (if not exactly HIP) style, but this distinction is based on personal taste. In any event, it is rewarding to make the comparisons in the context of ongoing discussions. BWV 39 is a good example of some of the typical strengths and weak points of the Koopman [11] series: all the soloists are at least good, and alto Bogna Bartosz is superb in Mvt. 3. The chorus is fine, but the continuo is often abrupt (lacking in continuity?) Compare the Gardiner live performance [9] for a different, and IMO better, level of energy, difficult to define precisely. I am writing mainly to point out the Craig Smith [10] performance, which has not previously been mentioned in the discussions. The two CD set of cantatas for Trinity 1 and 2 was originally issued as the beginning of a complete series, but additions have not yet been financially possible, and do not appear likely. Nevertheless, the available recordings provide a nice record of the accomplishments of this group, Emmanuel Music [10], which has been dedicated to the performance of Bach cantatas for over thirty years. It is not exactly an essential recording, but I find the performances of alto Pamela Dellal, oboe Peggy Pearson, and violin Danielle Maddon in Mvt. 3 of BWV 39 to be as good as any. You may also enjoy the multiple skills of Pamela Dellal, whose subtle translations of the entire cantatas are linked via BCW (English 6). Worthy of exploration by those who wish to sample the full spectrum of Bach cantata performance. Apologies that I do not presently have a reply function available to respond interactively to other writers. Once again, all were appreciated.

BWV 39 [was: BWV 156]
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 10, 2008): JAP wrote: >I've been thinking about your final comment about the second movement of BWV 39. It's true that the text you cite is not a direct biblical quotation, but surely the intention is that the hearer should think of the injunction in the Gospel According to St Matthew to "love thy neighbour as thyself'< My comment actually relates back to a previous post of mine: >At some point, I will take the trouble to recover a few texts Bach set which are <optimistic> about the results of human behavior in this world, as well as the next. The first example which comes to hand, at random, from BWV 39/2: <Mercy that rests on ones neighbor, Can, more than all gifts, go straight to His heart.> I agree that there is a Biblical reference for <love thy neighbor as thyself>, but I also believe the more important point is that the thought (indeed, commandment) is central to every religion on earth, as well as non-deist philosophy. Providing a universal reference for the spirituality of Bach's music. Both the text Bach set, and the actual Gospel for the First Sunday after Trinity (Luke 16: 19-31), the liturgical day for BWV 39, support my point. Because my original post was on a thread which the moderator has asked us to discontinue, I have been as brief as possible. I did not think it would be polite to ignore James post, without a response.
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 10, 2008): JAP wrote, citing BWV 39/2: >"But mercy which is to one's neighbor shown Can more than any gift be to his heart compelling." (Ambrose)< I originally emphasized the capital H, interpreting <His heart> as the sacred heart of Jesus. Did you intentionally change this, suggesting that <his heart> refers to the <neighbors heart>; is it an oversight; or is it Ambrose interpretation?
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 10, 2008): The Pamela Dellal translation (Emmanuel Music, via BCW, English 6), of BWV 39/2: <The bounteous God casts His abundance on us, we who without Him do not even have breath. It is His, what we are; He gives only the use, although not so that we alone are refreshed by His treasures. They are the touchstone whereby He makes known that He has dispensed poverty, also necessity, as He, with a gentle hand, bestowed to us richly what is needed by those. We need not return, for His loaned good, interest into His storehouse; mercy that is shown to one's neighbors can reach His heart more surelthan any gift.> It is clear, to me, that after <bounteous God> in the opening line, subsequent pronouns (He, Him, His) refer back to that initial statement. The Dürr translation agrees.
James Atkins Pritchard wrote (June 10, 2008): [To Ed Myskowski] I was just cutting and pasting the Z. Philip Ambrose translation from this site: www.uvm.edu/~classics/faculty/bach/BWV39.html
Douglas Cowling wrote (June 10, 2008): BWV 39 - Spelling Ed Myskowski wrote: < It is clear, to me, that after <bounteous God> in the opening line, subsequent pronouns (He, Him, His) refer back to that initial statement. > The use capital letters to inidcate references to God is only an orthographic convention adopted in the late 18^th and 19^th century and does not appear in earlier bibles such as the influential King James Bible or in more modern translations. The convention is extended to many Bach translations because it was an editorial principle in the old Novello vocal scores. These anachronisms should be eliminated in Bach translations, just as the pseudo-Tudor style of language abandoned (e.g. Thou, Ye). Students of Bach are better served by clear accurate translations in modern prose which do not tryto emulate a Victorian poetic style. Many of the discussions on here have been hampered by vague and inaccurate translations.
James Atkins Pritchard wrote (June 10, 2008): [To Douglas Cowling] I'm inclined to agree about not using special capitalization rules for pronouns referring to God because as far as I know such rules were not used in the original German texts. But I'm not sure I agree about words like "thou" (which is cognate to the German "du"). It's surely a matter of great interest that God is addressed as "du" (it suggests an intimacy with the divine or infinite that is arguably central to the Cantatas and indeed Bach's music generally) and I like the idea that the nuances present in the German are as far as possible conveyed in the translations.
Ed Myskowski wrote (June 10, 2008): Douglas Cowling wrote, in response to my previous post: EM: < It is clear, to me, that after <bounteous God> in the opening line, subsequent pronouns (He, Him, His) refer back to that initial statement. > DC> >The use capital letters to inidcate references to God is only an orthographic convention adopted in the late 18th and 19th century and does not appear in earlier bibles such as the influential King James Bible or in more modern translations. The convention is extended to many Bach translations because it was an editorial principle in the old Novello vocal scores. These anachronisms should be eliminated in Bach translations, just as the pseudo-Tudor style of language abandoned (e.g. Thou, Ye). Students of Bach are better served by clear accurate translations in modern prose which do not try to emulate a Victorian poetic style. Many of the discussions on here have been hampered by vague and inaccurate translations.< Perhaps, but it remains clear, to me, that <His heart> refers back to <bounteous God, from the very first line, rather than to <his (the neighbors) heart>. The capital H helps (even Helps?) make that clear. When in doubt, a noun is preferable to a pronoun, I always say. At least, from this moment on.
Douglas Cowling wrote (June 10, 2008): James Atkins Pritchard wrote: < But I'm not sure I agree about words like "thou" (which is cognate to the German "du"). It's surely a matter of great interest that God is addressed as "du" (it suggests an intimacy with the divine or infinite that is arguably central to the Cantatas and indeed Bach's music generally) and I like the idea that the nuances present in the German are as far as possible conveyed in the translations. > I gotta disagree with you here. In the 16th century "thou" and "ye/you" were used like French "tu-vous" and German "du-Ihr/Sie" to indicate second-person singular and plural, as well as degrees of informality to formality. Those distinctions didn't survive the 18^th century and, in fact, "Thou" oddly became a "divine" pronoun which by the 19th century was used only in reference to God. It is very difficult for native English speakers to see the nuances in tu-vous and du-Sie. Add the historical distance between us and Bach, and I wouldn't be surprised if even native German speakers had a working knowledge of the nuance and idiom of Bach's literary German unless they were a scholar of 16^th - 18^th century literature.
James Atkins Pritchard wrote (June 10, 2008): [To Douglas Cowling] It's certainly true that the use of "thou" (and the verb forms associated with it) is not characteristic of contemporary English. But so what? I have a friend who teaches Greek literature in translation and recently I tried to persuade him to use a translation of Homer other than Richmond Lattimore because there are now plenty of them that make it easier for students to get through the text. He replied (rightly, I now think) that he wasn't primarily looking for accessibility; he was looking for a translation that would to the extent that it was possible convey something in English of what it was like to read the original Greek. It was the very strangeness of the Lattimore translation, along with its closeness to the original (there's a close line-by-line correlation between Lattimore and the Greek, and it makes a great crib as countless students over the years have discovered), that so attracted him to it and that led him to make it his translation of choice. He also encourages those who want to know what it's like to read the New Testament in Greek to read Lattimore's translation of it. Similarly I gather that plenty of English professors still encourage students to read Pound's translation of the Seafarer, not because any of them imagine that lines like "Moaneth away my mind's lust" were much in accordance with English as it was spoken in 1912 when Pound published his translation (let alone with English as it's spoken now), but rather because Pound's translation, even though it's very free, nevertheless conveys more than any other a sense of what the original is like. Much the same case can be made for encouraging people to read Montaigne in Florio's translations: they give the reader a feel for what it's like to read the original. So I suppose what I'm getting at is this. If what's desired is a translation that aims primarily at immediate accessibility then of course the older pronouns and verb forms ought to be avoided. But given that in the case of the Bach Cantatas we're looking at very short texts (the case for accessibility is stronger I think when the text is something long like an epic poem) it seems to me that the case for a translation that helps to bring the listener without German a little closer than might otherwise be possible to the experience of attending a service in the Thomaskirche in Bach's time and experiencing these incomparable expressions of Lutheran piety in the context in which Bach created them to be experienced might be a good thing. So why not prefer translations that sound as though they might have been set by William Croft or Maurice Greene? As far as I know no one is proposing that we alter the texts of their works so as to make them more accessible to the contemporary listener, so the presence in them of older forms can't be that much of an obstacle. I suppose you think I'm crazy.
J. Laurson wrote (June 11, 2008): James Atkins Pritchard wrote: > But I'm not sure I agree about words like "thou" (which is cognate to the German "du"). It's surely a matter of great interest that God is addressed as "du" (it suggests an intimacy with the divine or infinite that is arguably central to the Cantatas and indeed Bach's music generally) and I like the idea that the nuances present in the German are as far as possible conveyed in the translations. < I don't quite agree with the importance of this matter, either. A.) "Thou" now connotes the very formality of "Sie", whereas "You" connotes informality... even though the meaning was once (or is, technically) the reverse. B.) "Du" in this instance doesn't really suggestany particular intimacy. It is the only logical choice of addressing God -- the "Sie" would sound hilariously silly to native German ears. Although at that time it wasn't uncommon for kids to use the formal with their parents, the idea of God being thus addressed isn't likely ever to have found much consideration. Perhaps because the idea of creating distance of formality to "he-omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent" would be very odd? In any case the "Du" in that instance never connotes any ideas of 'buddying up' or any closer familiarity than the concept of God would already be felt. Perhaps a more mundane reason: "Gott" isn't though of as a last name, nor a title. So Germans are on 'first-name' basis with God and you just can't say "Sie - [First Name]".

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Last update: ýJune 13, 2008 ý14:11:39