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| Branch Creek at King St. |
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| The east end of King St. |
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| Hollar Ave. in living color |
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| Autumn Reflections |
Even in the context of the incredible riches of the 1st Jahrgang, the Cantata BWV 109 is one of the gigantic peaks of inspiration. Much of extraordinary quality is the psychological insight of his reading of the Gospel from John for the 21st Sunday after Trinity. The story is simple. A nobleman approaches Jesus and begs him to come to his house to cure his son who is dying. Jesus tells him to go home; that his son will live. The man says that he believes and goes home. He returns home to find his son well. He asks his servants when the son recovered his health and they tell him the time, the same as when he spoke to Jesus. From then on the man and his whole household believed. Bach’s path is to imagine what the man was thinking on his way home, before he found out that his son was cured. The whole cantata is about doubt. It uses as the New Testament reading for its opening chorus not the Gospel for the day but rather a passage from Mark concerning another miracle of Jesus, in which a man cries “I believe, help thou mine unbelief.”
This reading sets off a pattern of wavering faith that weaves itself throughout the cantata. Bach uses an elaborate almost Wagnerian system of motives, which advise us of the believer’s progress throughout the cantata.
The opening chorus begins with a melody of staggering dimensions. It is 16 bars of continuous unfolding melody that travels through intricacies of texture and harmony but never stops, never cadences, and finally winds down into the entrance of the chorus. The melody is pitched quite high and often has a corno da caccia doubling the tune, which is usually carried by the violins and oboes. This melody certainly stands for the voice of God, for the steadfastness of faith. Bach did something like this earlier in the 1st Jahrgang with the high horn part in the Cantata BWV 136. Here, however, its length and the enormous permutations that it undergoes throughout the course of the sixteen bars make for a unique gesture. The melody has in its inception large leaps that give it a broad arc and grandeur, but its continual spinning keeps re-energizing the material. Those leaping fifths and sixths have become, by the 12th bar a leap of a ninth. There is a wonderful moment later where we think we have come to the end and we have cadenced in the tonic. But the tune keeps spinning out for another three bars. It is as if Bach wants it never to stop.
The actual choral entrance uses the opening material, first in one voice, then the whole chorus. By this time we think that we know what this chorus is about. But suddenly at bar 22 the line is fragmented, chopped up and destroyed. Under this chorus fragmentation is a little appogiatura figure in the orchestra, first subtly introduced in a subsidiary instrument in the opening ritornello. This figure by now prominent and aggressive, functions almost as a signpost to the pilgrim’s progress. It will remain with us throughout the cantata. Almost is if to show us that we are dealing with an individual’s doubt in the context of a believing community, the texture of both the orchestra and especially the chorus is very erratic. Few choruses in all of Bach have so many moments where only one or two voices are singing. This creates a transparency of texture that gives Bach enormous opportunities for subtlety of harmony and counterpoint. The melismas of two voices create some of the most ravishing and revealing sounds in the whole piece. Listen to the passage on the text ‘help my unbelief” for the altos and the tenors accompanied by transparent playing of the opening motive. The “help my unbelief’ side of the father comes to the fore at the end of the piece with the melismas piling up over not the “belief “ motive but the appogiatura motive by this time aggressive and pounding. Although it closes with a complete statement of the opening sixteen bars, the movement thus ends in a state of great ambiguity.
The secco tenor recitative continues the wavering of belief. Forte phrases of assurance alternate with doubting piano phrases. The recitative begins in Bb and wanders through several keys until the remarkable cadence in E minor. Notice how the questioning voice ends on the dominant seventh chord which is then resolved only by the precipitous bass plunge down to low E.
The tenor aria #3 brings back the appogiatura motive, this time more prominent and menacing. It is combined with a manic dotted figure that becomes more and more extravagant throughout the melody. The voice line sings this same awkward and extreme theme, combined with hysterical triplets on the word “wanket”[wavering] The B section is even more remarkable. The text, ”Des Glaubens Docht glimmt kaum hervor,”(The wick of faith glows dimly) is imaginatively drawn by continual and progressively downward spiraling harmony. The last line “Die Furcht macht stetig neuen Schmerz” brings one of the most shocking chord progressions in all of Bach. The new grief is not only portrayed by the shocking cadence but the recapitulation of the A section after that cadence comes as an equal surprise.
The secco alto recitative #4 not only brings a voice of calm but modulates back to the relative major of the tonic key, d minor. The aria for alto with two oboes obbligato replaces the tempestuousness of the tenor aria with refulgence. The appogiatura, which has been always used in an ambiguous harmonic context, has here become normal. It is either portrayed as the Schleiffer or an appogiatura in a much more stable harmony. The wild dotted notes of the tenor aria and the jagged staccato lines of the opening chorus have become here rich and reassuring rapid scale passages. The whole aria projects a kind of abundance. Words of continuing doubt like “Wenn ihre Hoffnung hilflos liegt” are set with mellifluous and reassuring passagework played by the oboes underneath the held notes of the voice.
Instead of a simple four-voice final chorale, we are given a full- fledged choral fantasia on the tune “Durch Adams Fall.” We have seen, in the Orgelbüchlein setting of this chorale BWV 637, some of the most extreme and hair-raising chromaticism in all of Bach. Clearly that is not called for here. It is interesting that Bach goes to great lengths in this muscular and stringent setting to make the harmonic richness and detail sit in the background to the amazing rhythmic thrust and inexorable forward motion of the piece. The harsh marching theme of the two oboes is propelled into the next bar by the rushing sixteenths of the continuo at the end of the bar. In an amazing tour de force, the scale of the piece and the rhythmic solidity make us not notice that the modal chorale ends not in the tonic but the dominant. No modal piece in all of Bach ends with such finality.
©Craig Smith
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| Muted color in the wetland |
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| Looking across the north duck pond |
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| Another view across the pond |
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| Autumn reflections in the pond |
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| Brilliant Maples behind Hatch House next to the famous Dykeman Spring |
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| Autumn Cathedral - Miantonomi Park, Newport RI, 11/21/2007 |
If anyone doubts the influence of the dance on Bach's sacred music, let them listen to this cantata. It is hard not to picture the congregation of St. Thomas' skipping down the aisle during the opening chorus! This cantata mixes the stories of the Epistle (avoid bad company, bad habits, etc etc) and the Gospel (the parable of the marriage of the King's son, in which invitations are sent out but largely ignored). The opening chorus illustrates the Epistle, the first aria the Gospel and from then on, things are mixed about.A summary listen to the following tenor aria strongly supports Robert Marshall's thesis that Bach must have had a formidably good transverse flute player available whilst this cantata was written. It mixes stunning virtuosity with great beauty. It's also interesting to note an unusual feature in this cantata: Both transverse flutes and recorders are used. The cantata continues with a recitative that develops into a beautiful arioso, then a recitative followed by an air. This latter always makes me giggle a bit, since it bustles along in a very no nonsense way. I always imagine it being sung by a very prim soprano wearing a hat. After the final recitative, there is a very delicate, very beautiful chorale (Jesu, wahres Brot des Lebes).Copyright © 1996 & 1998, Simon Crouch.
Straight down to business with an enormous chorale fantasia on Luther's hymn Ein' feste Burg. This is one of Bach's pieces that I initially found very daunting: Great, yes; To admire, of course; But to love? Well, these days I not infrequently find myself humming one of the fugal voices, whistling another and trying to hold the rest going in my head. Anyone observing this act must think that I'm bonkers. But what the heck, it is a very beautiful edifice.Two wonderful arias follow, separated by a recitative. The first motors along to a machine-gun accompaniment on the strings, the seconds swings beautifully in triple time. The chorale that follows does both. Next is a tenor/alto duet with accompanying oboe da caccia and finally an excellent four part harmonisation of the chorale melody. Do try to hear this cantata in both "modern" and "original" performances: The former to get more of the grandeur of the piece, the latter to hear it in the original instrumentation (especially the oboe da caccia. Why did this wonderful beast die out? Well, OK, it was probably a pig to play and keep in tune but it does make a lovely noise!)There is a very interesting essay about the genesis and publication history of BWV 80 in Christolph Wolff's excellent collection Bach - Essays on His Life and Music. If you're used to hearing this cantata with trumpets and drums, then you may be surprised to learn that their inclusion (in the Bach-Gesellschaft edition) is probably derived from a parody of this cantata that Wilhelm Friedemann Bach devised for his own purposes. J.S.B probably had nothing to do with them at all!Copyright © 1995 & 1997, Simon Crouch.
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| Color in the woods and wetland |
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| More color |
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| An Autumnal scene by the north duck pond |
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| Autumnal color up on the meadow |
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| The Canada Geese are on the move |
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| Color on the east end of the meadow |
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| The Staghorn Sumacs and some Maples by the creek have brightened up some |
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| Up on the meadow the color change is a little more evident |
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| Clifton Burying Ground, 11/01/2005 |
The opening aria of this great solo cantata is one of those wonderful examples of Bach's music being perfectly at one with the text. For example, in the opening phrase, the resolution of a dissonant C sharp to D (in g minor) immediately gives the impression of the enormous burden of the Cross being lifted with God's help. The cantata goes on, with the familiar metaphor of life as a journey through troubled lands until salvation is reached in the promised land. Meanwhile a recitative, complete with "waves" (an allusion to Jesus' boat journey at the start of the gospel reading) leads on to an aria complete with one of those wonderful oboe accompaniments that so frequenty decorate the cantatas. I often wonder whether Bach's oboe player(s) appreciated what he was doing for them! To me these beautiful weaving, sometimes coy, oboe accompaniments are among the greatest jewels that Bach has left to us. As a flute player myself, I regret that the transverse flute wasn't as widely used then as it soon became. If it had, we could have had a few more of these wonderful tunes to ourselves! Another recitative leads to the final chorale (Komm, oh tod, du schlafes bruder) beautifully harmonised by Bach.Copyright © 1996 & 1998, Simon Crouch.
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| Looking north from West Creek Rd. approaching the north end of Burnt Mill Rd. |
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| Walking south down Burnt Mill Rd. with South Mountain in the background |
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| Part of the campus of the Burnt Mill Veterinary Center |
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| The bridge over Conodoguinet Creek |
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| The wooden-planked deck of the bridge |
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| Conodoguinet Creek at Burnt Mill Rd. |
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| An old spring house on Burnt Mill Rd., with the spring still running from it |
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| Landscape at the south end of Burnt Mill Rd. |
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| Rock is the defining reality of the Cumberland Valley; it pokes up through the earth everywhere! |
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| Lines and shadows on the footbridge over Fogelsanger Road |
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| Walking up the Rail Trail |
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| A side trail with a touch of color |
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| A feral cat calculating the odds of catching that squirrel in the tree |
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| Walking through a tunnel of trees |
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| A farm, a dirt road, and a touch of Fall color |
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| A panoramic view of the Cumberland Valley from the Rail Trail |
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| Fall Asters |
If you enjoy BWV 1 How brightly shines the morning star then perhaps this is the next cantata that you should turn to. A different hymn (by Elisabeth Kreutziger) but the same allusion: He is the Morning Star….far brightest star of all and musically (in the first chorus) a similar treatment. The sparkling opening chorus is one of my favourites and is unusual in having a flauto piccolo (equivalent to our sopranino recorder) chattering beautifully away at the top of the orchestra. Also unusual is that the alto line holds the cantus firmus. After a recitative, the tenor da capo aria is quite long but the level of inspiration is more than enough to hold the attention; the flute has an especially enjoyable line. The bass aria is, perhaps, a lot more straightforward but conveys the text well and the cantata finishes with an especially fine chorale harmonisation.Copyright © 1996 & 1998, Simon Crouch.
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| Small-flowered White Aster |
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| Virginia Creeper on the footbridge over Gum Run |
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| Wetland with Purple Martin house |
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| Looking across the pond to the wetland |
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| On the meadow |
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| Looking toward Timber Hill from the meadow |
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| Autumnal Simplicity |
Our cantata today was written for the seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. The beautiful exhortation of Paul to the Ephesians for generosity and selflessness is combined with the parable of the man invited to the rich man’s dinner. Both readings emphasize humility and modesty. The resultant text is unusually sunny, without any of the dark shadows that permeate most of Bach’s cantata texts.
The opening chorus, a quote from Psalm 29, is a brilliant and densely fugal work for trumpet, oboe, and strings. It is something of a curiosity that Bach, in a very unusual move, sets the whole text at the outset and then divides it up into sections for the various fugues that make up the rest of the piece. The texture, while joyous, is unremittingly dense. Clearly Bach wants to give the effect of an enormous crowd singing these ringing words. The tenor aria is a virtuoso affair both for the solo violin as well as for the high-flying tenor part. The alto goes much deeper. The recitative starts with a famous quote from Psalm 42 and then goes into the main message of the parable, that good works can be done on the Sabbath as well as the rest of the week. The beautiful aria with three oboes has a calm and warmth that brings to a wonderful close the ringing affirmation of the opening chorus. This cantata is a wonderful example of Bach’s ability to take ideas that don’t seem to have much contrast and build a convincing and moving structure of faith. The work ends with a rich and warm harmonization of the chorale “Auf meinem lieben Gott.”
A word from Philipp Spitta about the opening movement of this chorale cantata: "..the sound of tolling bells, the fragrance of blossoms pervades it - the sentiment of a churchyard in springtime". The continuo tolls the bell low in the harmony, the upper strings repeat a pizzicato bell-like figure and the flute alternates between arpeggios and repeated staccato high notes. All the while the oboes d'amore intertwine their sinuously attractive melody with the choir's chorale. This is a very lovely movement!The theme is a common one in the cantatas: When shall we take leave of the sufferings of mortal life and achieve eternal life in Heaven? The bells continue tolling in the tenor aria and the (solo) oboe d'amore has another beautiful line. After a recitative, Heaven is achieved in the tour-de-force that is the bass aria. It is really difficult to avoid the feeling that here we have a movement, a gigue, from a lost flute concerto. It is a wonderful, optimistic, virtuoso piece and if you have any love for the flute as a solo instrument, do try to hear this. The cantata closes, after a recitative, with a lovely chorale setting with orchestral accompaniment. Especially effective is the low bass note that precedes the voices. The chorale melody itself, by Daniel Vetter, is especially attractive.Copyright © 1996 & 1998, Simon Crouch.
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