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• 1 2023-09-26T09:32:59+00:00 Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn BWV 23 / BC A 47 21 Estomihi. First performed 02/07/1723 for Bach's audition in Leipzig plain 2024-04-24T14:49:37+00:00 1723-02-07 BWV 23 Köthen 51.340199, 12.360103 18Estomihi Estomihi BC A 47 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn, BWV 23 / BC A 47" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 152 James A. Brokaw II Köthen

  Estomihi Sunday

  During Johann Sebastian Bach’s era in Leipzig, Lent began after Estomihi Sunday and with it a period without music called tempus clausum. This traditional silencing of concerted church music, broken only by the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25, brought with it in 1723 a certain time-related urgency for the Leipzig City Council. After the death of Johann Kuhnau, the cantorate of St. Thomas had been unoccupied for eight months, and although several candidates, such as Georg Philipp Telemann of Hamburg and Georg Friedrich Fasch of Zerbst, had signaled their interest, they decided to remain in their previous positions. If the council wanted to avoid further delay, it would have to make it possible for remaining candidates for the prominent position to perform their audition compositions before Estomihi Sunday 1723 at the latest. And thus it happened—with wise foresight, it should be added. At the year’s beginning, no one could have sensed that the successor decisively chosen in January, Christoph Graupner from Darmstadt, would also withdraw by the end of March. Be that as it may, in early February 1723 the council once again allowed performances by applicants, and this time even the press took notice. A newspaper in Hamburg printed a Leipzig announcement of February 9, which reads: “On Sunday last [February 7] in the morning the Hon. Capellmeister of Cöthen, Mr. Bach, gave his test here at the Church of St. Thomas for the hitherto vacant cantorate, the music of the same having been amply praised on that occasion by all knowledgeable persons.”¹
  
  “Sunday last” refers to Estomihi, the last opportunity for performances of church music before the weeks of the tempus clausum, and “music of the same” refers, at least in part, to the cantata Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn BWV 23 (You true God and David’s son). We now know that on February 7, 1723, Bach performed not one but two cantatas. Here we are talking about the cantata Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe BWV 22 (Jesus took unto him the twelve), which, in its manuscript transmission, is clearly designated “das Probestück in Leipzig” (the audition piece in Leipzig), as well as Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn. The latter cantata appears to have been the one the composer readied first, since the score and parts were prepared in the ducal residence at Köthen, which had been Bach’s domain of activity since late 1717; the composer brought them with him to Leipzig. Why he needed to prepare a second cantata—probably on short notice—has long been in dispute. Perhaps it seemed to him, after further consideration, that it would be safer to perform a work at the Leipzig audition that was closer to the style of Kuhnau and hence the Leipzigers’ listening preferences than the exceedingly demanding cantata Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn. This work, which we can call the “original audition piece,” was undoubtedly performed on Estomihi Sunday in 1723, probably not as the Hauptmusik (main music) before the sermon but afterward as sub communione (during the celebration of Holy Communion). But that decision came later; originally, the cantata would have indeed been intended as the main music—as is suggested by its close textual relationship to the Gospel reading of the day.
  
  The Gospel reading for Estomihi Sunday is found in the eighteenth chapter of Luke. It begins with the journey to Jerusalem, and thus it unmistakably marks the beginning of Jesus’s period of suffering: “Then he took unto him the twelve, and said unto them, Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and all things shall be accomplished, that are written by the prophets concerning the son of man” (Luke 18:31). The account of the healing of a blind man follows a bit later:

  And it came to pass, that as he came near Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the wayside begging: As he however heard the people pass by, he asked what it meant. And they told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he cried, saying, Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me. And they who went before rebuked him, that he should be silent: but he cried much more, thou son of David, have mercy on me. But Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be brought unto him. As they brought him near to him, he asked him, and spoke, What do you want me to do for you? And he said, Lord, that I might see. And Jesus said unto him, Be seeing! Your faith has helped you. And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God: and all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God. (Luke 18:35–43)

  The cantata text, whose author remains unknown, takes up the call of the blind man on the wayside in the first movement, an aria, and quotes it in the following manner with commentary:

  Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn,
  Der du von Ewigkeit in der Entfernung schon
  Mein Herzeleid und meine Leibespein
  Umständlich angesehn, erbarm dich mein.
  
  You true God and David’s son,
  Who from eternity at a distance has already
  Looked closely upon my affliction and my bodily pain,
  Have mercy upon me.

  This manner of quotation and simultaneous explanation and interpretation is characteristic of a large portion of cantata poetry of the era—but it is seen here in unusually concentrated form. This is true of the middle part of the aria with the plea:

  Und laß durch deine Wunderhand 
  Die so viel Böses abgewandt,
  Mir gleichfalls Hilf und Trost geschehen.
  
  And through your wondrous hand
  Which has averted so much evil,
  Let help and consolation befall me likewise.

  It is true as well for the following recitative, which begins, again alluding to the blind man on the wayside,

  Ach! Gehe nicht vorüber;
  Du aller Menschen Heil,
  Bist ja erschienen, 
  Die Kranken und nicht die Gesunden zu bedienen
  
  Oh! Do not pass by,
  You, salvation for all people,
  Are certainly appeared
  To serve the sick and not the healthy.

  The last line alludes to a word of Jesus from Luke 5:31, which he spoke as he sat at table with tax collectors and sinners: “Die Gesunden bedürfen des Arztes nicht, sondern die Kranken” (The healthy have no need of the doctor, but rather the sick). There is again simultaneous quotation and interpretation in the third aria, whose beginning, “Aller Augen warten, Herr, du allmächtiger Gott, auf dich” (The eyes of all wait, Lord, you almighty God, upon you), takes up a formulation from Psalm 145:15: “Aller Augen warten auf dich, und du gibst ihnen ihre Speise zu seiner Zeit” (The eyes of all wait upon you, and you give them their meal in due season). Physical infirmity and spiritual blindness are both meant in the passage:

  Gib denselben Kraft und Licht,
  Laß sie nicht
  Immerdar in Finsternissen!
  
  Grant them [meaning the eyes] strength and light
  Do not leave them
  Forever in darkness!

  
  The cantata libretto closes with the German Agnus Dei, Christe, du Lamm Gottes (Christ, you lamb of God), whose appeal “Erbarme dich unser” (Have mercy on us) connects to the first movement and the call of the blind man by the wayside.
  
  More than nearly any other work, this composition reflects Bach’s transition between music director at Köthen and cantor of St. Thomas School at Leipzig. In particular, the first movement is very much like chamber music with its filigree of five obbligato parts—two oboes, two voices, and basso continuo—as well as its hovering rhythm and thickly woven imitative textures; it is among the most exquisite and sophisticated compositions in all of Bach’s cantatas.² The second movement, a recitative for tenor, does not simply restrict itself to expressive interpretation of text but presents another dimension as well: the upper accompanying instruments—two oboes and first violin—present the chorale melody Christe, du Lamm Gottes independently of the voices. By contrast, the following choral movement, “Alle Augen warten,” is, outwardly, apparently simple, almost song-like. This is particularly true of the way in which “Aller Augen warten, Herr . . .” is presented by the choir in a refrain-like fashion, while the other lines of text are incorporated in sections, clearly set apart by restriction to the two lowest voices. Upon closer examination, however, it becomes clear that the music is not simple at all; the clarity of the rondo-like form is complicated by an artful voice leading in which the bass voice offers subtle quotations of the chorale melody Christe, du Lamm Gottes.
  
  Originally, the cantata (BWV 23.1) was to have ended with this movement. For unknown reasons, perhaps owing to the cantata’s new function as music for Communion (BWV 23.2), Bach appended yet another supremely artistic chorale movement, the tripartite Christe, du Lamm Gottes. Two years later, in March 1725, he used this chorale arrangement as the final movement of the second version of the St. John Passion BWV 245.2. In light of our current knowledge, this seems ever more justified, since the chorale movement originated as part of a Passion, now mostly lost, that Bach must have composed by 1717 at the latest in Weimar. Another performance took place in 1769 in Hamburg: Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach used his father’s chorale arrangement as the closing movement of his own St. Matthew Passion. The printed text booklet bore the precautionary note: “Choral. Wird von der Gemeine nicht mitgesungen. Christe! Du Lamm Gottes, der Du trägst etc.” (Chorale. Not to be sung by the congregation. Christe! Thou Lamb of God, who bears etc.).
  
  When Johann Sebastian Bach decided to integrate this elaborate Passion chorale into his Estomihi cantata, he probably had at first no idea of the difficulties this would entail. Most likely with an eye on the challenging choral parts as well as the preparation time, which was certainly quite short, he assigned a traditional Stadtpfeiffer ensemble—cornet and three trombones—to support the four voices. In order to achieve a key that would allow this ensemble to be played, he needed to transpose the entire cantata a half tone lower, to replace the oboes with oboi d’amore, and to have a series of new parts copied out.³ In this altered form, the cantata was performed in February 1723 and perhaps once again in the following year. Several years afterward there was yet another performance (BWV 23.3); this time, Bach omitted the brass ensemble and thus could return to the original key. 
  
  Because of its eventful history, the cantata Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn had a remarkably extensive set of performing materials. From Bach’s estate they came into the custody of the Berlin State Library and were stored there undisturbed until the beginning of the twentieth century. Then, someone appears to have concluded that no one would have anything against his appropriating several of the many performing parts. As might be expected, the theft went unnoticed until the 1970s, when the parts, purloined before the First World War, unexpectedly turned up in Thuringia. Shortly afterward, they were returned to Berlin⁴—to the great pleasure of not only the librarians but also Bach research, which soon found itself well positioned to solve many riddles regarding the origin and performance history of Bach’s Estomihi cantata. 

   

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  Footnotes

  1. NBR, 101 (no. 95).↵
  2. Geck (1972).↵
  3. Wolff (1978).↵
  4. Schulze (1977). Regarding the ascertainment of five additional parts, see Wolff (2002).↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:32:59+00:00 Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe BWV 22 / BC A 48 16 Estomihi. First performed 02/07/1723 for Bach's audition in Leipzig. plain 2024-04-24T14:49:03+00:00 1723-02-07 BWV 22 Köthen 51.340199, 12.360103 18Estomihi Estomihi BC A 48 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe, BWV 22 / BC A 48" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p.156 James A. Brokaw II Köthen

  Estomihi Sunday

  When Johann Sebastian Bach decided, after long hesitation, to apply for the Leipzig cantorate at St. Thomas School, he prepared his cantata Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn BWV 23 (You true God and son of David) for use as the Hauptmusik (main music) for the audition to be held on Estomihi Sunday 1723. But in spite of its close connection to the Gospel reading of the day, the work lost its place to the cantata Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe BWV 22 (Jesus took aside the twelve), which he had probably written a bit later. Certainly, we should not make too much of this rivalry; on the contrary, it has brought posterity a significant benefit. Both works set forth the scriptural reading for the Sunday: the second part, the healing of the blind man, by the cantata Du wahrer Gott und Davids Sohn; and the first part, the journey to Jerusalem, by the cantata Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe.
  
  Both parts of the reading are found at the end of Luke 18. The journey to Jerusalem unmistakably marks the entry into Jesus’s period of suffering:

  Then he took aside the twelve, and said unto them, See, we shall go up to Jerusalem, and all things shall be accomplished, that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man. For he shall be delivered unto the heathen, and shall be mocked, and spitefully treated, and spat upon. And they shall scourge him, and put him to death: and the third day he shall rise again. And they understood none of these things: and this speech was hidden from them, and they did not know what had been said. (31–34)

  
  The unknown author of the cantata text, probably to be sought in Leipzig, places this part of the Gospel reading at the beginning of his libretto but abbreviates it by removing the middle section, which foretells suffering, from arrest to resurrection. The aria text that follows interprets what has just been said within the context of an individual piety: 

  Mein Jesu, ziehe mich nach dir,
  Ich bin bereit, ich will von hier
  Und nach Jerusalem zu deinen Leiden gehn.
  Wohl mir, wenn ich die Wichtigkeit
  Von dieser Leid- und Sterbenszeit
  Zu meinem Troste kann durchgehends wohl verstehn.
  
  My Jesus, draw me after you,
  I am prepared, I will go from here
  And to Jerusalem and your sufferings.
  Blessed am I, if the consequence
  Of this time of suffering and dying
  I can thoroughly understand, to my consolation.

  The ensuing recitative, rich in text, does not leave this approach but paraphrases the conclusion of the scripture quoted at the beginning of the cantata, “Sie aber vernahmen der keines” (They did not know what had been said). At its beginning, the recitative reads:

  Mein Jesu, ziehe mich, so werd ich laufen,
  Denn Fleisch und Blut verstehet ganz und gar,
  Nebst deinen Jüngern nicht, was gesaget war.
  
  My Jesus, draw me, so I will run,
  For flesh and blood quite fail to understand, 
  Along with your disciples, what was said.

  
  The end presents a view of renunciation of the world’s temptations:

  Ach! kreuzige bei mir in der verderbten Brust
  Zuvörderst diese Welt und die verbotne Lust,
  So werd ich, was du sagst, vollkommen wohl verstehen
  Und nach Jerusalem mit tausend Freuden gehen.
  
  O crucify in me, in my corrupted breast,
  First of all this world and its forbidden pleasure,
  Then I will perfectly understand what you say
  And go to Jerusalem with a thousand joys.

  
  Once again, this intention intensifies in an aria:

  Mein alles in allem, mein ewiges Gut,
  Verbeßre das Herze, verändre den Mut;
  Schlag alles darnieder, 
  Was dieser Entsagung des Fleisches zuwider.
  Doch wenn ich nun geistlich ertötet da bin, 
  So ziehe mich nach dir in Friede dahin.
  
  My all in all things, my eternal good,
  Improve my heart, transform my courage,
  Strike everything down
  That is opposed to this renunciation of the flesh. 
  But now when I am spiritually put to death here,
  Then draw me after you in peace.

  The phrase “ziehe mich” is placed prominently in all three freely versified movements in the manner of a leitmotif, so to speak. With its last appearance, it closes the circle transited in the recitative and arias; just beforehand, the allusion “geistlich ertötet” (spiritually put to death) foreshadows the closing chorale. A strophe from Elisabeth Kreuziger’s hymn Herr Christ, der einig Gotts Sohn (Lord Christ, the only son of God) speaks of the passing of the old, sin-laden man to make way for the “new” man with his certainty of salvation:

  Ertöt uns durch dein Güte,
  Erweck uns durch dein Gnad;
  Den alten Menschen kränke,
  Daß der neu’ leben mag
  Wohl hie auf dieser Erden,
  Den Sinn und all Begehren
  Und G’danken hab’n zu dir.
  
  Put us to death through your goodness,
  Awaken us through your grace;
  Mortify the old Adam,
  That the new one may live
  Even here on this earth,
  That our minds and all desires
  And thoughts may to you.

  In Johann Sebastian Bach’s composition, the emphasis clearly lies on the first movement: a thickly woven contrapuntal texture with slowly rising yet bravely striding figures that slowly make progress; painful sigh motives and energetic descending scales all point toward the language of the Passion compositions, urgently depicting the outward progress and inward mental state on the journey into the period of suffering. The word of Jesus, performed by the solo bass—the vox Christi—is followed immediately by the close of the evangelist’s account, the motet-like and fugal “sie aber vernahmen der keines,” whose indifferent bustling represents the strongest conceivable contrast to what came before. Real sensitivity, however, is developed by the moderately animated aria “Mein Jesu, ziehe mich nach dir” (My Jesus, draw me unto you), in which the expressive passages for obbligato oboe dominate for long stretches. The bass recitative, accompanied by strings and often expanded with arioso passages, is followed by the tenor aria “Mein alles in allem” (My all in all), a veritable dance movement, close in character to the passepied or minuet, and to be seen as a reminiscence on works by the director of music at the court of Köthen.
  
  The cantata closes with a four-part setting of the chorale melody Herr Christ, der einig Gotts Sohn, which has its origins in the pre-Reformation. The three-part instrumental texture points back to the way of writing preferred by Bach at the end of his time at Weimar. On the other hand, the unrelenting figuration and rigid adherence to a single motive could be seen as a concession to Leipzig musical preferences during the era of Johann Kuhnau.¹ But beyond this, the cantata shows the effort, even in a work of rather limited scope, to showcase a broad range of artistic possibilities and thus fulfill the exigencies of an audition piece. An inscription on a copy of the score from Bach’s circle around 1730 thus shows itself to be undoubtedly correct: “Dies ist das Probestück in Leipzig” (This is the audition piece in Leipzig).

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  Footnotes

  1. Geck (1972).↵