Johann Sebastian Bach

by Christoph Wolff

  TABLE 8.16. Calendar of Passion Performances in Leipzig, 1723–50

  1724

  N

  St. John, BWV 245— version I

  1725

  T

  St. John, BWV 245— version II

  1726

  N

  St. Mark (Brauns)

  1727

  T

  St. Matthew, BWV 244— version I

  1728

  N

  St. John, BWV 245— version III

  1729

  T

  St. Matthew, BWV 244—version I

  1730

  N

  St. Luke (anonymous)

  1731

  T

  St. Mark, BWV 247

  1732

  N

  ? St. John, BWV 245— version III

  1736

  T

  St. Matthew, BWV 244— version II

  1739

  N

  ? Brockes Passion (Telemann)

  1742

  T

  ? St. Matthew, BWV 244—version II

  1745

  St. Luke (anonymous)

  1747a

  Brockes Passion (Handel)

  1748a

  Passion pasticcio (Keiser, Handel)

  1749

  N

  St. John, BWV 245— version IV

  before 1750a

  Passion oratorio (C. H. Graun)

  before 1750a

  Passion pasticcio (Graun-Telemann-Bach-Kuhnau-Altnickol)

  N = St. Nicholas’s; T = St. Thomas’s.

  The complex genesis and transformations of Bach’s first Leipzig Passion—one is tempted to speak of St. John “Passions”—demonstrate a degree of continuing freshness, originality, and experimental radiance that makes the work stand out in many ways, notwithstanding that in terms of sheer compositional sophistication and artistic maturity, it serves as a forerunner of two later works, the Passions According to St. Matthewand St. Mark. Of the five Passions mentioned in the Obituary,94 only two survive, St. John and St. Matthew; for St. Mark, we possess only Picander’s libretto of 1731. Nevertheless, we know some of its musical content, scoring, and instrumentation because the piece derives from earlier works by way of parody, most notably from the Funeral Ode, BWV 198, of 1727 (there is reason to believe that the libretto itself was created with the reuse of extant material in mind). The reference in the Obituary to five Passions may include the lost work presented in 1717 at Gotha (BC D1) and, erroneously, an anonymous St. Luke Passion that Bach copied out and performed with a few additions of his own.

  Of the three Leipzig Passions, the St. Johnin all of its versions lacks textual unity—the madrigal lyrics were compiled from various poetic sources—and the remarkable adaptability of the work cannot entirely conceal this inherent aesthetic problem. No doubt conscious of the difficulty, Bach began looking for a different kind of text, but not quite the oratorio type created by Barthold Heinrich Brockes in which the biblical narrative was replaced with rhymed paraphrases. Bach’s unsuccessful search for a suitable text may well have hindered him from composing a new work for two successive Good Fridays and made him turn instead to modifying his St. John Passion for 1725 and selecting the St. Mark Passion by Friedrich Nicolaus Brauns for 1726. He had performed Brauns’s work in Weimar, and he now adjusted it to fit Leipzig liturgical practice and musical conditions (BC D 5). When in 1725 Picander (Christian Friedrich Henrici) published an oratorio text of the Brockes type, Erbauliche Gedancken auf den Grünen Donnerstag und Charfreytag über den leidenden JESUM in einem ORATORIO entworffen (Devotional Thoughts for Holy Thursday and Good Friday about the Suffering Jesus, Fashioned into an Oratorio). Bach surely paid attention to this libretto, which was dedicated to (and perhaps commissioned by) Franz Anton Count von Sporck of Bohemia. It could easily have been this sample from Picander’s adept and agile poetic pen that brought the two Leipzig artists together.95 Whether Bach eventually commissioned Picander or Picander approached Bach, a close collaboration is beyond doubt, both on the conceptual level and in matters of detail. The Brockes model loomed large (and Picander emulated its allegorical dialogue between the Daughters of Zion and the Faithful) and the poetic language of Salomo Franck also proved inspiring, but it became of utmost importance for the Gospel text to be preserved intact and for the lyrics to reflect the appropriate theological scope. Bach may in fact have alerted Picander to pertinent sources, such as the Passion homilies of Heinrich Müller, a seventeenth-century Lutheran theologian whose works could be found among the literature in Bach’s library.96 Some structural features seem to have been specifically requested by the composer. For example, the allegorical dialogue is arranged so that the Daughters of Zion and the Faithful do not just appear successively but simultaneously, as in aria no. 20, where the soloist from choir I sings “Ich will bei meinem Jesu wachen” (I will wake with my Jesus) while choir II responds “So schlafen unsre Sünden ein” (Thus will our sins go to sleep)—this kind of conjunction being essential for the double-choir design to work.97 Likewise, the combination of free lyrics with hymn strophes (most prominently featured in the opening chorus) may have been suggested by Bach, reflecting as it did his keen interest in multilayered polyphonic structures that include a cantus firmus.

  What emerged was a libretto that used the same textual components as the St. John but avoided the pitfalls of heterogeneous lyrics. And with its more abundant and complex madrigal-style poetry, Picander’s St. Matthew Passion libretto indeed constituted, from a literary point of view, a unified Passion oratorio. While the libretto for the later St. Mark Passion, again by Picander, borrowed from preexisting material, which presented certain impediments, the St. Matthew Passion libretto enabled Bach to conceive a wholly original work and to compose it in a single sweep. There was neither room nor need for the kind of radical alterations that the St. John Passion underwent, even though Bach nearly always found occasion to change and improve. In the case of the St. Matthew Passion, a significant revision occurred only once after its first performance at St. Thomas’s on April 11, 1727, and this for the purpose of enhancing the work’s monumental character by extending its musical dimensions and by expanding and refocusing its performing forces, while leaving the overall design and libretto intact. It was in 1736, when the work was performed for the third time, that Bach replaced the simple chorale “Jesum lass ich nicht von mir,” BWV 244b, which originally concluded part I, with the massive chorale setting “O Mensch, bewein dein Sünde groß,” appropriated from the second version of the St. John Passion. Additionally, he created a more decisive division of the entire ensemble into two vocal-instrumental bodies by assigning separate continuo groups to choirs I and II, instead of letting one common continuo section provide the fundament for both choirs. Finally, in addition to the regular spaces for choir and instruments, Bach used the swallow’s nest organ and choir loft in the performance. He assigned the cantus firmus lines of the two choruses that framed part I (nos. 1 and 29) to a third choir made up of sopranos with organ support,98 a decision that mobilized virtually all available musical resources at St. Thomas’s and must surely have resulted in a spectacular effect. And if sexton Rost, in his list of Passion performances, specified merely “1736. St. Thomas’s, with both organs,”99 his remark shows that this unusual feature by no means went unnoticed.

  The definitive character of Bach’s 1736 revision of the St. Matthew Passion and concomitant performance decisions is expressed by the calligraphic autograph fair copy that he set out to prepare that year and that he later completed with great scrupulousness. There is no comparable manuscript score from Bach’s hand that is so carefully laid out and written in two colors of ink, red and dark brown. Red is applied to the biblical text of the evangelist and soliloquentes, the chorale melody “O Lamm Gottes unschuldig” in the first movement, and a few rubrics (Gothic lettering is used throughout, except for Old Testament quotations in the Gospel, which are displayed in Latin script). It could not be more
evident that in 1736 Bach considered this score as his most significant work. In fact, he treasured the manuscript so much that even when the opening pages were damaged by some mishap in later years, he carefully restored them by pasting on strips of paper and replacing lost staves.100 But while Bach could hardly imagine that the “great Passion,” more than any of his other works, would make history in the truest sense of the word, he knew full well from the earliest planning stages that this composition would be special—indeed, that nothing like it had ever been attempted before.

  In many ways, the time, space, focus, and meaning of the musical Vespers service on Good Friday gave Bach a unique chance to set his imagination free, and he grasped the opportunity from the very beginning by composing the Passion According to St. John. Yet one discerns everywhere in the St. Matthew Passion his intention, already clear from the work’s internal and external dimensions, of surpassing everything that had been written previously, by himself and by other composers. The score, containing sixty-eight movements, some of extraordinary length, required an eight-voice double choir and a well-equipped double orchestra.101 And he was able to call on the rich experience he had gained through his involvement with the church cantata over a period of four years. However, Bach’s ambitions went far beyond the monumental format that he deliberately chose. We can best understand his approach as an artist to the musical shaping of the Passion story by seeing how he planned it so as to bring out a wealth of interconnections, and how he employed musical forms and compositional techniques in an imaginative and totally unschematic manner in order to serve the most sacred biblical text of the Lutheran faith on the highest feast day of the Reformation church.

  The primary structural backbone of the St. John Passion and, therefore, its compositional focus rest on the Gospel narrative. In the St. Matthew Passion, by contrast, it is Picander’s madrigal poems, lyrical contemplations of individual scenes in the Passion story, that shape the work. None of the original text booklets from Bach’s performances have survived, but the first reprint of the text in volume II of Picander’s collected works, Ernst-Schertzhaffte und Satyrische Gedichte, published in 1729, shows how the biblical Passion narrative is framed and punctuated by seventeen poems, most of them bipartite (nos. 1, 5–6, 8, 12–13, etc., in Table 8.17). Hence the biblical material is divided, in accordance with the poet’s conception and its realization by the composer, into fifteen scenes and two introductions, to which both the lyrical meditations and the pointed interspersing of hymn stanzas relate. All of the lyrics are introduced by biblical references—for example nos. 5–6, “When the woman anointed Jesus”—so that the reflective and interpretive function of every single poem and musical setting becomes immediately clear.

  TABLE 8.17. Libretto Design of the St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244 (first version, 1727)

  Poetry by Picander (choruses, arias)

  Gospel

  Chorales

  Part I—Before the sermon

  The Daughters of Zion[I] and the Faithful[II]:

  1. Kommt, ihr Töchter* (I/II)

  2. Matth 26:1–2

  3. Herzliebster Jesu

  When the woman anointed Jesus:

  4. 26:3–13

  5–6. Du lieber Heiland/Buß and Reu (I)

  7. 26:14–16

  When Judas took the 30 silver pieces:

  8. Blute nur, du liebes Herz (II)

  9. 26:17–22

  10. Ich bins, ich sollte büßen

  When Jesus kept the Passover:

  11. 26:23–29

  12–13. Wiewohl mein Herz / Ich will dir mein Herze (I)

  14. 26:30–32

  15. Erkenne mich, mein Hüter

  16. 26:33–35

  17. Ich will hier bei dir stehen

  When Jesus quailed at the Mount of Olives (Zion and the Faithful):

  18. 26:36–38

  19–20. O Schmerz* / Ich will bei meinem Jesu wachen (I/II)

  21. 26:39

  After the words “O my Father…let this cup pass from me”:

  22–23. Der Heiland fällt / Gerne will ich mich bequemen (II)

  24. 26:40–42

  25. Was mein Gott will

  When Jesus was captured (Zion and the Faithful):

  26. 26:43–50

  27. So ist mein Jesus nun gefangen (I/II)

  28. 26:51–56

  29. Jesum laß ich nicht von mira

  Part II—After the sermon

  The Faithful and Zion:

  30. Ach, nun ist mein Jesus hin (I/II)

  31. 26:57–59

  32. Mir hat die Welt

  After the words “But Jesus kept silent”:

  33. 26:60–63a

  34–35. Mein Jesus schweigt / Geduld (II)

  36. 26:63b–68

  37. Wer hat dich so geschlagen

  When Peter wept:

  38. 26:69–75

  39. Erbarme dich (I)

  40. Bin ich gleich von dir gewichen

  After the words “It is not lawful…because it is the price of blood”:

  41. 27:1–6

  42. Gebt mir meinen Jesum wieder (II)

  43. 27:7–14

  44. Befiel du deine Wege

  45. 27:15–22

  46. Wie wunderbarlich

  After the words “What evil has He done?”:

  47. 27:23a

  48–49. Er hat uns allen wohlgetan / Aus Liebe (I)

  50. 27:23b–26

  When Jesus was scourged:

  51–52. Erbarm es Gott / Können Tränen meiner Wangen (II)

  53. 27:27–30

  54. O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden

  When Simon of Cyrene was compelled to bear His cross:

  55. 27:31–32

  56–57. Ja freilich will in uns / Komm, süßes Kreuz (I)

  58. 27:33–44

  When Jesus was crucified (Zion and the Faithful):

  59–60. Ach Golgatha / Sehet, Jesus hat

  61. 27:45–50

  62. Wenn ich einmal die Hand (I; I/II) soll scheiden

  When Jesus was taken down from the cross:

  63. 27:51–58

  64–65. Am Abend / Mache dich, mein Herze, rein (I)

  66. 27:59–66

  After the words “And they sealed the stone” (Zion and the Faithful):

  67–68. Nun ist der Herr / Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder (I/II)

  It is another distinguishing mark of the St. Matthew Passion that Bach chose to draw deliberately on the complete repertoire of forms cultivated in the sacred and secular music of his day. Even Baroque opera, the most representative genre of the age, could not compare in its range of compositional types and forms, for opera finds no place for movements based on a cantus firmus, which belong exclusively to the domain of sacred music, or for settings in the style of a polyphonic motet (of which there are several examples among the turba choruses of the Passion). In any case, such a degree of polyphonic elaboration, typical of the church style in general and Bach’s artistic preferences in particular, was worlds away from operatic practice. But well beyond questions of form, genre, and compositional technique, the St. Matthew Passion project challenged Bach’s whole concept of musical science, requiring him to analyze the literary material, the symbolic and affective imagery, and the theological content as well as to consider the appropriate representation of the Passion story. He met the challenge by making optimal use of all musical means, from the widely diverse singing voices and instrumental sonorities (exclusive of brass) to the broad spectrum of melodic inventions, rhythmic patterns, harmonic structures, and key choices. And with respect to the last two in particular, the composer of The Well-Tempered Clavier not only had the advantage of his cutting-edge experimental background, he also sought to extend this experience to the realm of vocal-instrumental music.

  By having the St. Matthew Passionmeander through the keys while drawing on an extraordinary array of colors in the instrumental obbligato accompaniments of the arias, Bach was exploring the widest possible range of mus
ical expression. The settings of the Picander poems function as pillars of stability, from the dual tonality and modality in the opening chorus through the full chromatic realm of keys up to four sharps and flats—the maximum range for a mixed group of instruments not regulated by equal temperament. But given those limitations, Bach does not shy away from breaking out of these restrictions when underscoring extreme affects or imagery. In the harmonically unique arioso no. 59 (“Ach Golgatha”), for example, he fully exploits all twelve chromatic pitches, moves through chords as remote and extreme as A-flat minor and F-flat minor (requiring double flats), and lets the alto voice end the piece with an unresolved tritone, D-flat to G. Likewise, in the death scene, no. 61a, after using the pitch of F-flat for the word “Finsternis” (darkness), he sets Jesus’s last words, the Hebrew “Eli, Eli, lama asabthani,” in B-flat minor (five flats), near the bottom end of the circle of fifths, and to complete the descent to the absolute depth of despair, he sets the subsequent translation one step beyond that, in E-flat minor (six flats). In a kind of counterpoint to this extreme venture at the brink of the key system—at once compellingly expressive and symbolic—and on a greatly spaced-out scale, Bach pursues a corresponding yet reverse tonal descent in his key choices for the “Passion chorale”—the melody of “Herzlich tut mich verlangen” in nos. 15, 17, 44, 54, and 62—whose successive key signatures ( / / / / ) demarcate the path of inevitability no less forcefully. One cannot but notice how much further Bach takes his sophisticated and decisively innovative compositional planning here than he does in the St. John Passion.