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Siehe, ich will viel Fischer aussenden BWV 88 / BC A 105
Fifth Sunday after Trinity, July 21, 1726
This cantata, Siehe, ich will viel Fischer aussenden BWV 88 (See, I shall send out many fishermen), originated in 1726 and is part of Bach’s third Leipzig annual cycle of cantatas, which, remarkably, includes not only compositions by Johann Sebastian Bach but also works by his Meiningen cousin Johann Ludwig Bach. The libretti in question mostly go back to an annual text cycle that appeared in 1704 in Meiningen. What is remarkable about our cantata is that both members of the Bach family composed the text, and Johann Ludwig Bach must have preceded his Leipzig cousin in doing so. We are aware of this earlier Meiningen composition due to a remarkable circumstance.During work to clean up the city archive in Frankfurt am Main in 1980, a fragmentary music manuscript was identified that had been brought to light during restoration work in the postwar period. A bookbinder in the eighteenth century had used some sheet music, no longer needed, to produce a binding for a ledger to be used by the Frankfurt magistrate. In the Second World War this ledger was damaged or destroyed, but the binding was preserved and gave up its secret during refurbishment: it was the partial transmission of five cantatas by Johann Ludwig Bach.1 How these works found their way from Meiningen to Frankfurt is not entirely clear. However, it bears mentioning that Johann Ludwig Bach’s employer, Duke Anton Ulrich of Saxe-Meiningen, having married beneath his station in 1711, was embroiled in legal disputes with his family and lived outside his country from 1742 until his death in 1763—in Frankfurt am Main. Be that as it may, the so-called Frankfurt binding discovery resulted in this cantata libretto being accessible in parallel compositions by Johann Sebastian and Johann Ludwig Bach.
This libretto takes up the Gospel reading of the fifth Sunday after Trinity, which is found in Luke 5 and gives the account of Peter’s miraculous catch of fish. Following the account of how Jesus preached from a boat to the people on the shores of Lake Genezareth, it reads here:
And as he had stopped speaking, he spoke to Simon: Launch out into the deep and throw out your net, that you make a catch! And Simon answered and spoke to him: Master, we have worked the entire night and caught nothing; but upon your word I will cast out the net. And as they did so, they caught a great many fish, and their net ripped. And they waved to their fellows, who were in another ship, to come and help them pull. And they came and filled both ships so full that they sank. Then as Simon Peter saw it, he fell to his knees before Jesus and spoke: Go away from me! I am a sinful man. For there came a great astonishment over them, him, and all with him over this catch of fish that they had taken with one another; the same also Jacob and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s companions. And Jesus spoke to Simon: Fear not; for from now on you will catch men. And they brought their ships to land and left everything and followed him. (4–10)
The unknown librettist, probably someone in or near Meiningen, places a verse from Jeremiah 16 at the beginning. Here, the return of the children of Israel to the land of their fathers is promised: “Siehe, ich werde viel Fischer aussenden, spricht der Herr, die sollen sie fischen. Und darnach werde ich viel Jäger aussenden, die sollen sie fahen auf allen Bergen und auf allen Hügeln und in allen Steinritzen” (16; See, I will send out many fishermen, says the Lord, and they shall fish them. And thereafter I will send out many hunters, who shall catch them upon all the mountains and upon all the hills and in all the rock crevices). The ensuing recitative and aria take up the “search for the scattered sheep” alluded to here: the danger that man might gamble away the grace of the Most High if he turns away from him with “verkehrten Sinn” (twisted sense) and “verstocktem Mut” (hardened heart) allows the painful question to be posed at the end of the recitative:
Tritt er mit seiner Güte
Von uns, gleich so wie wir von ihm, zurück,
Und überläßt er uns der Feinde List und Tück?
Does he step back with his goodness
From us, as we do from him,
And abandon us to the enemies’ malice and cunning?
Yet the aria immediately reassures:
Nein, nein!
Gott ist allezeit geflissen,
Uns auf gutem Weg zu wissen
Unter seiner Gnade Schein.
Ja, wenn wir verirrt sein
Und die rechte Bahn verlassen
Will er uns gar suchen lassen.
No, no!
God is at all times striving
To know that we are on the good way
Beneath the light of his grace.
Yes, when we are gone astray
And the proper path have left
He wants to have us sought out.
The second half of the cantata begins with the fourth movement, to be performed after the sermon. In accordance with the model chosen by the unknown poet, it begins with a passage from the New Testament at the close of the Sunday Gospel reading: “Jesus sprach zu Simon: Fürchte dich nicht; denn von nun an wirst du Menschen fahen” (Luke 5:10; Jesus spoke to Simon: Fear not, for from now on you will catch men). The ensuing aria reflects upon the profitable catch of fish depicted in the Gospel reading:
Beruft Gott selbst, so muß der Segen
Auf allem unsern Tun
Im Übermaße ruhn,
Stünd uns gleich Furcht und Sorg entgegen.
Das Pfund, so er uns ausgetan,
Will er mit Wucher wiederhaben;
Wenn wir es nur nicht selbst vergraben,
So hilft er gern, damit es fruchten kann.
If God himself calls, then his blessing must
Upon all our actions
In abundance endure
Should both fear and care stand against us.
The pound that he has given us
He will have back with interest;
If only we ourselves do not bury it,
Then he helps us gladly, that it may bear fruit.
The penultimate movement, a recitative, features a meter favored by the unknown poet, the Alexandrine, with its characteristic long lines:
Was kann dich denn in deinem Wandel schrecken,
Wenn dir, mein Herz, Gott selbst die Hände reicht?
Vor dessen bloßem Wink schon alles Unglück weicht,
Und der dich mächtiglich kann schützen und bedecken.
What can frighten you, then, in the course of your life
If to you, my heart, God himself extends his hands?
Before whose simple wave all misfortune retreats
And who can mightily protect and shelter you.
At the close, it reads:
Geh allzeit freudig fort, du wirst am Ende sehen,
Daß, was dich eh gequält, dir sei zu Nuta geschehen.
Go at all times joyfully forth, you will finally see
That what tortured you before happened for your benefit.
The libretto closes with the last strophe from Georg Neumark’s hymn Wer nur den lieben Gott läßt walten (Whoever only lets dear God rule), written in 1657:
Sing, bet und geh auf Gottes Wegen,
Verricht das Deine nur getreu
Und trau des Himmels reichem Segen,
So wird er bei dir werden neu;
Denn welcher seine Zuversicht
Auf Gott setzt, den verläßt er nicht.
Sing, pray, and walk upon God’s ways,
Perform your own work faithfully,
And trust heaven’s rich blessings,
Then it will be renewed for you;
For whoever places his confidence
In God is not forsaken by him.
Bach’s composition of this libretto is first and foremost dominated by the truly extensive opening movement, which converts the powerful imagery of the passage from Jeremiah into scarcely less vivid depictions of nature. The phrase “Siehe, ich will viel Fischer aussenden” in the bass is assigned to a balanced and dynamic, skillfully nuanced alternation between restfully rocking and quickly flowing motion. This idyllic scenery claims no fewer than one hundred
8 measures before an abrupt change in tempo, character, and instrumental color. The flowing, full tone of the oboe d’amore and strings is transformed to a tighter voice leading in alla breve meter; the tumult of the hunt drives off the tranquil imagery of fishing, as two hunting horns with their syncopated triadic motives take command themselves and do not relinquish it until the movement’s end.
After a brief recitative, the tenor begins his rhythmically rebellious aria alone at first:
Nein, nein!
Gott ist allezeit geflissen,
Uns auf gutem Weg zu wissen
Unter seiner Gnade Schein.
No, no!
God is at all times striving
To know that we are on the good way
Beneath the light of his grace.
Only then is the tenor joined by the calming voice of the oboe d’amore, which remains the singer’s loyal companion from then on, quite in the sense of the text. In accordance with the text line “wenn wir verirrt sein” (when we have gone astray), both must withstand extensive melodic and harmonic adventures until the closing “Will er uns gar suchen lassen” (He wants to have us sought out) brings the movement to the security of an unexpected entrance of the concluding ritornello, replete with all strings and woodwinds.
The New Testament scriptural passage, presented by the bass as the vox Christi, forms the beginning of the cantata’s second half. Set as an arioso, “Fürchte dich nicht, denn von nun an wirst du Menschen fahen” (Fear not, for from now on you shall catch men) is frequently and urgently repeated. The ensuing duet, “Beruft Gott selbst, so muß der Segen / Auf allem unsern Tun / In Übermaß ruhn,” is rigorous and weighty in accordance with the meaning of its text: soprano, alto, basso continuo, and an impasto part comprising violins and oboi d’amore form a fugue-like movement with three expositions. In contrast to this ambitious design, the concluding chorale movement on the 1657 melody Wer nur den lieben Gott läßt walten seems particularly simple and withdrawn.