This page was created by James A. Brokaw II. The last update was by Angela Watters.
Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich BWV 150 / BC B 24
Homage, ca. 1707
The cantata Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich BWV 150 (For you, Lord, I do long) has been handed down to us without any assignment to the church calendar. In other respects, it is the source of headaches for performers as well as scholars. Indeed, the legitimacy of the attribution to Johann Sebastian Bach was in doubt for a very long time. In particular, it was Arnold Schering, one of the most significant music scholars of the first half of the twentieth century, who with immoderate oratory attempted to convince the experts of the cantata’s inauthenticity. Schering closed a 1913 special study1 with a kind of sweeping statement with which he described the quality and transmission of the work: “It is all the same, whatever name of a minor Saxon or Thuringian cantor we may put on it. In any case it would be irresponsible, as far as the present case is concerned, if we were to allow the letters ‘di J. S. Bach’ by the teenage St. Thomas student Penzel, put there perhaps through ignorance or foolishness, to lead us astray ever again in our understanding of the personal style and powerful spirit of our Bach.”2Strong words, certainly. The analysis that precedes it spares nothing in criticizing compositional technique and text declamation, complains about the lack of clarity of form, and mocks errors of counterpoint. A good explanation for deficits of this sort would be that it could be an early work, making pardonable the sins against the rules of composition and declamation. Although even Arnold Schering cannot deny this idea, he remains true to his intention of striking this cantata from the Bachian canon. He takes advantage of the fact that the cantata has survived the ages only in a copy made shortly after 1750 by the St. Thomas School student Christian Friedrich Penzel and gives full rein to his eloquence:
If one reduces this verbal cascade to its core substance, what remains is the assertion that the cantata would already have been regarded as distinctly unmodern when it was copied shortly after 1750 and was therefore—particularly regarding its pronounced, finely segmented structure—to be placed hypothetically around 1700. What kept Schering and others from placing the work around 1705 and regarding it as a youthful work by Johann Sebastian Bach? In addition to several musical blunders one would not want to ascribe to the master of the St. Matthew Passion, even in his younger years, it was above all the form of the text that did not conform to the prevailing opinion as to the course of development. It was believed that the combination of biblical passages and free poetry found in the cantata Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich could not have originated before 1710 because it presupposed a specific change in the form of cantata libretti. For decades there had been talk of a “text reform” and of its supposed originator, Erdmann Neumeister, chief pastor in Hamburg at the end of his career. It is said to have been Neumeister who, after introducing free poetry into the church cantata in 1702, eleven years later created the so-called mixed text form consisting of free poetry as well as biblical passages and chorale verse. In no way is this true, and it doesn’t apply to the cantata Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich anyway. For the mere presence of free poetry in the text has nothing to do with the modern formal world of recitative and aria drawn from opera, which Erdmann Neumeister had in fact made accessible to the church cantata. Instead, what we have here are strophic forms of an older style, suggesting that they may be the verses of a very rare, as yet unidentified chorale. To use texts of this sort for composition—even in connection with biblical text—was not at all unusual for the seventeenth century. Further, nothing speaks against the hypothesis that in choosing the text, the young Johann Sebastian Bach was following conventions of the age as well as the traditions of the Bach family. Another question concerns when and to what purpose the cantata may have been composed. There are securely dated works for comparison from Bach’s Mühlhausen period, from mid-1707 to mid-1708, but these are distinguished by a visibly more advanced compositional technique. Accordingly, the cantata Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich must have been composed during Bach’s years in Arnstadt, from the summer of 1703 to the summer of 1707. But at least until February 1706, the young Arnstadt organist refused to make music in the church with students at the lyceum, precluding the performance of cantatas. So the question remains open whether the cantata really belongs to the Arnstadt period and in Arnstadt itself or whether it may have been performed in one of the surrounding villages.The formal layout and style of this so-called . . . Bachian cantata place it in the period around or shortly after 1700, where one can still occasionally find the segmented structure as well as simple chaconnes in
2 meter. Leipzig masters of the first rank such as Knüpfer and Schelle are to be disregarded, as well as even Kuhnau, although as a cantata composer he occasionally came off badly. After such brilliant church pieces as he composed around 1710, he would not have offered Leipzig something so hackneyed and old-fashioned. It strikingly demonstrates the total immaturity in judgment of the young Penzel, as he copied this particular cantata that no one could have appreciated in 1750. Or was it piety before an ancient, yellowed manuscript in Sebastian’s music case that he in careless haste signed with the name of the great one? Precisely because of his immaturity, he scarcely would have thought of an intentional deception.3
Further, no details have been established regarding the author and origin of the text.4 Of its six sections, three are taken from Psalm 25:
Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich. Mein Gott, ich hoffe auf dich. Laß mich nicht zuschanden werden, daß sich meine Feinde nicht freuen über mich. (1–2)
Leite mich in deiner Wahrheit und lehre mich; denn du bist der Gott, er mir hilft, täglich harre ich dein. (5)
Meine Augen sehen stets zu dem Herrn; denn er wird meinen Fuß aus dem Netze ziehen. (15)
After you, Lord, I long. My God, I place my hopes in you. Let me not be ashamed, so that my enemies do not triumph over me.
Lead me in your truth, and teach me; for you are the God who helps me, daily I await you.
My eyes always look to the Lord; for he will pull my foot out of the net.
The succession of these three psalm verses can be described with the keywords “Prayer,” “Confession,” and “Certainty.” At the center stands “Confession”; it is flanked by two six-line strophes that are interrelated, although they are structured differently. At the same time, they, as well as the concluding eight-line strophe, can be understood to interpret the psalm verses that precede them. To this extent, the cantata text can be said to be elegantly structured and consciously formed, despite its simplicity and brevity.
The same can be said of the composition, with the proviso that the work depicts the young Bach’s search for his own musical language and, further, his struggle for mastery of his musical craft. Yet even at this putative early stage there is no lack of self-confidence: right away in the first movement, a sinfonia of fewer than twenty measures and a quite modest ensemble of two violins, bassoon, and basso continuo sets forth the main theme in all of its parts for the following vocal movement in the style of an Italian trio sonata. This theme consists mainly of a series of half-tone steps that fill out the interval of the fourth—the traditional lamento—so that the text “Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich” is presented as a passionate lamentation. In a rapid succession of lively and measured phrases, an extended fugal exposition is reached in which the text “daß sich meine Feinde nicht freuen über mich” is combined with a variant of the lamento theme, for which the coloratura on the keyword “freuen” (triumph) helps to reveal new aspects.
The first freely versified text “Doch bin und bleibe ich vergnügt” (Yet I am and remain content) is set as an aria for soprano and obbligato violins. “Aria” is admittedly a high-flown designation for the short-segmented structure, in which hardly two measures follow one another without being separated by a cadence. Motet-like short segmentation also characterizes the second choral movement, on a passage from Psalm 25. Here, sustained single pitches stand out, an illustrative element depicting the word “harren” (await). The second aria is set up as a trio of alto, tenor, and bass, in parallel for the most part. Their text, beginning “Zedern müßen von den Winden / Oft viel Ungemach empfinden” (Cedars must, from the winds / Often suffer much hardship), provides the composer the occasion to depict, through the incessant figuration of the basso continuo, the raging of the forces of nature. The ensuing psalm verse follows the model of the first, beginning with the short-breathed exchange of phrases that culminates in a fugal intensification, here, however, with the more challenging procedure of permutation fugue.
The closing and consummate tutti on the freely versified text that begins “Meine Tage in dem Leide / Endet Gott dennoch zur Freude” (My days of suffering / God will nevertheless end with joy) is designed as a chaconne, a series of variations above a constantly repeating theme in the bass. The solemnity of the step dance in
2 meter and its rigorously managed procedures of repetition and variation produce a constant earnestness that creates a unity of character amid the diversity of variations. Thus a large-scale coherence is ultimately established that had been lacking from the previous movements. This “lack” obviously presupposes the perspective of Bach’s later oeuvre; in that early period to which the cantata belongs, diversity and variety within a confined space were undoubtedly a virtue, proof of richness of invention, and without this criterion a just assessment of the early works for keyboard and organ would be hardly conceivable.
Addendum
Only a few years after his book’s publication, Schulze was able to resolve several significant mysteries attending this cantata, clarifying the work’s purpose and producing a quite compelling hypothesis as to the author of its text.5 Within the seven-movement scheme, the three strophes of free verse (movements 3, 5, and 7) read as follows:In 2005 an alert Belgian blogger named Johan DeWael noticed that the last four lines of the concluding eight-line strophe, the chaconne, begin with the letter sequence B-A-C-H and that in the third movement—the first strophe of free poetry—the six lines begin with D-O-K-T-O-R.63.
Doch bin und bleibe ich vergnügt,
Obgleich hier zeitlich toben Kreutz,
Sturm und andre Proben,
Tod, Höll und was sich fügt.
Ob Unfall schlägt den treuen Knecht,
Recht ist und bleibet ewig Recht.
Yet I am and remain cheerful,
Although here briefly rage
Cross, storm, and other trials,
Death, hell, and all that follow.
Though misfortune may strike the loyal servant,
Right is and must ever remain right.
5.
Zedern müssen von den Winden Oft viel
Ungemach empfinden,
Oftmals werden sie verkehrt.
Rat und Tat auf Gott gestellt,
Achtet nicht was widerbellet,
Denn sein Wort ganz anders lehrt.
Cedars must, from the winds,
Often feel much hardship,
Often are they uprooted.
Counsel and action based on God,
Ignore that which howls back,
For his word teaches quite differently.
7.
Meine Tage in dem Leide
Endet Gott dennoch zur Freude:
Christen auf den Dornenwegen
Führen Himmels Kraft und Segen.
Bleibet Gott mein treuer Schutz,
Achte ich nicht Menschentrutz;
Christus, der uns steht zur Seiten,
Hilft mir täglich sieghaft streiten.
My days in suffering
God nevertheless ends in joy:
Christians on their thorny paths
Are led by heaven’s power and blessing
If God remains my loyal defense,
I may ignore human spite;
Christ, who stands at our side,
Helps me daily to fight victoriously.
The online discussion focused on speculation that Bach had applied his signature to the text of his first cantata, and little further progress in solving the riddle was made. However, by correcting several errors of spelling and usage, Schulze was able to decipher an acrostic that involved all lines of free poetry in the text:
The solution to this puzzle did not present any particular difficulties. All that was required were a few changes to the text as it has stood until now. In the fifth movement, verse 1 (measure 5), the reading “Zedern”—which accords with the primary source, Christian Friedrich Penzel’s copy of 1755 (P1044)—must be restored to its historical spelling “Cedern”:7
Cedern müssen von den Winden
Similarly, in movement 5, verse 3 (measure 15), the nonsensical reading “Oftmals” (often)—obviously the result of a handwriting error, unnoticed until now—had to be corrected to “Niemals” (never), appropriate to the “steadfastness of these trees”:
Niemals werden sie verkehrt
In movement 7, verse 4 (measure 28), the imprecise word “Führen” (to lead)—hardly appropriate to “Himmels Kraft und Segen” (Heaven’s power and blessing)—was replaced by the—conjectural—“Kühren” (old spelling, here used in the sense of “elect”):
Küren Himmels Kraft und Segen
The freely versified strophes, corrected through these minor edits, yield the acrostic Doktor Conrad Meckbach and thus refer to one of the most important Mühlhausen personages during the era of young Johann Sebastian Bach.8
A year after publishing these revelations in Bach-Jahrbuch 2010, Schulze followed up with several corrections and clarifications.9 The spelling “DOCTOR” is more historically appropriate to the early eighteenth century and hence preferable to “DOKTOR”; moreover, the Penzel copy has “Creutz, Sturm und andere Proben” instead of “Kreutz,” as seen in recent editions. Second, a presentation print of the text must have been produced in addition to the performance, since the acrostic could not easily have been perceived aurally alone.
Meckbach was a Mühlhausen burgomaster and town councilor who spoke in favor of hiring Bach as organist at Divi Blasii on May 24, 1707, and, a bit more than a year later, on June 26, 1708, recommended that Bach’s dismissal be granted to allow him to accept a new position at the court of Weimar.
Schulze tentatively suggested that Georg Christian Eilmar, archdeacon at St. Mary’s in Mühlhausen, may have been the librettist, based on his authorship of several funeral odes for Meckbach’s wife in 1709. And in 2011 Schulze ventured the possibility that the work might have been in honor of Meckbach’s seventieth birthday on April 19, 1707. Locating the work at Mühlhausen, Schulze concluded in 2010, should make possible a fairer view of its musical merits, help to clarify its compositional superiority to works by contemporaries, and draw attention to commonalities and differences with its sister works Aus der Tiefen rufe ich, Herr, zu dir BWV 131 and Gott ist mein König BWV 71.