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Commentaries on the Cantatas of Johann Sebastian Bach: An Interactive Companion

Pfau 2015

Pfau, Marc-Roderich. 2015. “Entstanden Bachs späte Choralkantaten ‘per omnes versus’ für Gottesdienste des Weißenfelser Hofes?” BJ 101:341–49.

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Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut BWV 117 / BC A 187
Purpose Not Transmitted, 1728–1731
This cantata, Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut BWV 117 (Praise and honor be to the highest good), belongs to a relatively small group for which no occasion in the church calendar has been established. As to the reasons for this lack, we can speculate in several different directions. We should be alert not only to special circumstances of the work’s genesis but also to deficiencies of the work’s transmission. This last could easily have been disrupted by something as simple as the title folder for the work’s handwritten performance materials going astray during the composer’s lifetime or shortly afterward. For our cantata, this kind of loss seems likely. The scoring for a cantata was normally written on such a title folder; it occasionally also contained the occasion or purpose for the composition. When Bach’s autograph score came to light among the holdings of the Leipzig publisher Breitkopf at the beginning of the nineteenth century, any clear indications as to the work’s purpose were clearly no longer available. While we can be certain that the cantata was composed in the period from 1728 to 1731, its particular purpose remains shrouded in mystery. [Please see the addendum.—Trans.]

Nor does the text offer anything beyond a modicum of relevant data. The cantata belongs to the equally small group of Bach’s cantatas whose texts consist of the unaltered strophes of a chorale, in this case, the nine strophes of the hymn Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut, written by Johann Jacob Schütz, who was born in Frankfurt am Main in 1640 and died there not quite fifty years later. An attorney by training, he became an avid follower of Johann Jacob Spener as a young man but turned away from Pietistic thought toward rapturous millenarian convictions that increasingly drew him away from the church life of his era and its narrow surroundings. At thirty-three years of age he published an essay under the title Christliches Gedenkbüchlein zur Beförderung eines anfangenden neuen Lebens (Christian commemorative booklet for promotion of beginning a new life), which contains the hymn Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut without listing an author; it is described only as a song of praise on Deuteronomy 32:3. That chapter begins with the words of a hymn that Moses recited to the entire congregation of Israel shortly before his death: “Hearken, you heavens, I will speak, and may the earth hear the speech of my mouth. Let my teaching pour like the rain, and my speech flow like the dew, like rain upon the grass and like drops upon the greenery. For I will praise the name of the Lord. Give glory to our God alone!” (1–3). “Gebt unserm Gott die Ehre” (Give glory to our God alone): all nine strophes of Schütz’s chorale close with this verse, and this line is nearly always left without a rhyme partner. The only exception is in the penultimate strophe, in which the invocation appears three times altogether. On the basis of its overall character, the text belongs among the “Lob- und Danklieder” (Songs of praise and thanksgiving) in hymnals of the day. It may be indicative of its theology that the text appears in a 1752 Leipzig hymnal with the (probably erroneous) author’s initials A.H.F.—clearly meant to refer to that most important exponent of Pietism in Halle, August Hermann Francke. More significant than this misinformation is the fact that in hymnals of both the early and late eighteenth century, in Saxony as well as Thuringia, the chorale is assigned to a particular Sunday in the church calendar: the twelfth Sunday after Trinity. Whether this solves the puzzle of what occasion was intended by Johann Sebastian Bach is of course debatable.

Bach’s composition divides the chorale’s nine strophes into three each of recitatives, arias, and choral movements. With respect to such a text, Bach’s approach was not at all obvious compared to most of the compositions in his annual cycle of chorale cantatas, composed in 1724 and 1725. In these cantatas, some chorale strophes do indeed remain unchanged—but for the most part, only the first and last strophes, the first set as an expansively conceived chorale arrangement at the beginning and a simple four-part setting at the end. The internal chorale strophes are normally paraphrased as recitative and aria texts, thereby adapting the strophes to these forms that are normally quite remote from the chorale. In only a few exceptional cases—to which the cantata Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut belongs—did the entire text remain unchanged, even while being set to the modern operatic forms of recitative and aria.

Because of the uncertainty as to the work’s place within the church calendar we have no way of knowing whether Johann Sebastian Bach intended to close one of the remaining gaps in his chorale cantata cycle with this late work. Still, apart from the question of incorporation, there is a close connection between that comprehensive undertaking and the cantata Sei Lob und Ehr, as we can see in the later work the wealth of diverse experiences Bach gained working with the “chorale cantata” genre during his second year as cantor of St. Thomas in Leipzig. The mastery he gained there can be seen in many details of our cantata. Thus the opening movement, “Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut dem Vater aller Güte” (Praise and honor be to the highest good, to the father of all goodness), shows an unexpected lightness and transparency of the spare instrumental part and the mostly chordal choral texture, which becomes darker only briefly at the text “der allen Jammer stillt” (who quiets all anguish). The elegance of diction and the dance-like, animated 6
8 meter of the movement are hardly suggested by the first strophe of the chorale text. A note at the end of Bach’s score provides an explanation: the opening movement is to be repeated at the close, but with the text of the ninth and last chorale strophe:
So kommet vor sein Angesicht
Mit jauchzenvollem Springen;
Bezahlet die gelobte Pflicht
Und laßt uns fröhlich singen;
Gott hat es alles wohl bedacht
Und alles, alles recht gemacht.
Gebt unserm Gott die Ehre!

Then come before his countenance
With exultant leaping;
Fulfill the solemn oath
And let us joyfully sing;
God has considered all things well
And made everything, everything right.
Give to our God the honor!

Obviously, this text informs the innate cheerfulness of Bach’s composition (with the exception of the brief darkening mentioned earlier). Consequently, Bach must have had the intention of binding the opening and closing strophes of the chorale with the same music before beginning work. Similar bracketing by repeating the opening music at the end occasionally turns up in Bach’s work; one need only recall the Pentecost cantata Erschallet, ihr Lieder BWV 172 and, above all, the third cantata in the Christmas Oratorio BWV 248 III. But a repetition of music with two different texts is fairly rare. Little wonder, then, that earlier editors of the cantata fell victim to an error here and believed that the final strophe must have been connected to the simple choral movement at the fourth position. The regrettable consequence of this error is that even today the cantata Sei Lob und Ehr is often performed with the fourth movement repeated at the end instead of the first, as intended.

As one would expect, the cornerstones of the cantata—the first, fourth, and ninth movements—all use the melody associated with the chorale unchanged: the melody Es ist das Heil uns kommen her (Salvation has come to us), which goes back to a pre-Reformation tradition. Allusions to this melody are also found in other movements of the cantata. In the fifth movement, a recitative for alto with string accompaniment, the last line of the strophe “Gebt unserm Gott die Ehre” broadens to an arioso, whereby the characteristic three repeated tones of the chorale melody’s beginning are exchanged between voice and basso continuo as if the two were confirming one another. The two other recitatives, the second and eighth movements, do not allude to the chorale in this way. The second movement, a bass recitative, changes meter and setting after eight measures and presents the last line, “Gebt unserm Gott die Ehre,” as a fervent arioso, repeated several times. The text of the tenor recitative, the next to last movement in the cantata, contains the last line of the chorale repeated three times. Here, Bach restricts himself to a simple recitative style, since from his point of view there is no need for repetition and accentuation.

In terms of richness of design and invention, the three arias—the third, sixth, and seventh movements—show the composer at the height of his creative power. The fact that each chorale strophe flows into the exclamation “Gebt unserm Gott die Ehre” and thereby cannot return to its beginning precludes Bach from setting them as da capo arias. But this posed no obstacle for Bach. The motivic substance of the third movement, an aria in E minor for tenor with two obbligato oboi d’amore, is quite distant from the chorale melody, yet nearly every phrase hints at it. In contrast, the sixth movement, an expressive aria in B minor for bass with obbligato solo violin, seems to intentionally avoid any connection to the chorale; in reality, however, this aria adopts the motives of the preceding alto recitative first in the accompaniment and then in the voice, citing—as the recitative does—the characteristic three repeated tones of the chorale melody’s beginning. Finally, the seventh movement, an aria in the slow tempo of a solemn dance for alto, strings, and transverse flute, is entirely devoted to the unfolding of its upper voice, carrying the melody, whereby voice and woodwind instrument proceed together, quickly alternating in the roles of foundation part and bright four-foot register.

It can hardly be disputed that, overall, the cantata Sei Lob und Ehr is a masterpiece of rare cohesion. Bach’s autograph score is for the most part a fair copy; its outward appearance seems to confirm the high estimation its composer held for it. On the other hand, it is unusually precise in its directions, so that the possibility of a commissioned work or one to be loaned out seems worth considering. Yet these considerations only multiply the number of unsolved riddles that surround the cantata Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut to this day.
Addendum
Marc-Roderich Pfau (2015) has proposed that Bach composed BWV 117 and three other per omnes versus chorale cantatas (BWV 97, 100, and 192)—all four works without church calendar designations—for the court of Saxe-Weissenfels. All are dated between 1729, when Bach became Kapellmeister there, and 1736, when Duke Christian died. None are expressly for any occasion in the church calendar. On the basis of a printed text from Weissenfels court, Pfau suggests that BWV 117 was written for a church service on the birthday of Duke Christian, February 23, 1731, and that the other three compositions were similarly written for special court occasions. Bach composed BWV 208, 249,1, and 210.1 for Duke Christian in 1713—and until Pfau, no compositions could be associated with Bach’s time as Kapellmeister at Weissenfels.
Nun danket alle Gott BWV 192 / BC A 188
Purpose Not Transmitted, 1730?
This cantata, Nun danket alle Gott BWV 192 (Now thank the God of all), belongs to the relatively small group of compositions in Bach’s oeuvre whose libretti use the unaltered text of a chorale. In this case, the chorale in question is a hymn of three strophes by Martin Rinkart. Rinkart belonged to that unfortunate generation whose existence was defined and determined by the horrors of the Thirty Years’ War. Born in Eilenburg in 1586, he was the same age as Leipzig St. Thomas cantor Johann Hermann Schein. At the age of only fifteen, in 1601, Rinkart began studies in theology at the University of Leipzig. He evidently financed his studies through his musical activities, about which it is said that “his other Muses could be the guests of music and received abundant support from her.” In 1610 he took over the cantorate at St. Nicholas Church in Eisleben, and a bit later he became deacon at St. Anna. His application for a position in the church of his hometown failed because the superintendent believed that Rinkart might have neglected theology in favor of music and philosophy. After an intermediate position as a pastor in Mansfeld he succeeded in winning a post as archdeacon in Eilenburg, where he remained until his death in 1649. The hardships of war, famine, and an epidemic of plague darkened his life during this time. During one epidemic that broke out in 1637, nearly eight thousand people perished, and Rinkart had to escort as many as seventy of the dead to their graves every day. One year later, the privation was so great that—it is often reported—as many as forty people would fight one another over a dead crow fallen from the air, and twenty or more people would pursue a dog or cat to catch and slaughter it. In addition to these miseries, there were excessive demands for war tributes that also affected Rinkart’s property.

In view of such a situation, it is understandable that several legends have grown up around the origins of the hymn Nun danket alle Gott. One of these connects the chorale to very promising peace negotiations between Sweden and the French in 1643 and 1644, which paved the way for the truce later known as the Peace of Westphalia of 1648. But today it is regarded as certain that Rinkart’s hymn actually dates from 1636, well before the outbreak of pestilence and famine in Eilenburg. We have no further details as to the hymn’s purpose. In a later edition, the chorale appears beneath the heading “Tischgebetlein” (Grace at table) and another titled “Danklied der lobsingenden Gotteskinder” (Song of thanksgiving of God’s children singing praises). Rinkart’s verses are praised for their naive interiority of sentiment and power of expression, which made the hymn a “worthy complement to the Ambrosian song of praise” (würdigen Seitenstück zum Ambrosianischen Lobgesang)—the Te Deum Laudamus for the Protestant Church.

Rinkart found his poetic model in the works of his close friend and fellow Silesian Johannes Heermann. Verses from the prayer of thanksgiving in one of the Apocryphal books of the Bible, Sirach 50, are thought to be the source of the poem’s content:
Nun danket alle Gott, der große Dinge tut an allen Enden, der uns von Mutterleib an lebendig erhält und tut uns alles Gute. Er gebe uns ein fröhlich Herz und verleihe immerdar Frieden zu unsrer Zeit in Israel, und daß seine Gnade stets bei uns bleibe; und erlöse uns, solange wir leben. (22–24)

Now thank the God of all, who does great things everywhere, who sustains us in life from the womb and does all good things for our benefit. May he give us a joyous heart, and may he bestow peace in our time in Israel and forever, and that his grace may ever remain with us and may redeem us, so long as we shall live.

From this, Martin Rinkart shaped the first two strophes of his hymn, with much of the text taken literally from the Luther translation:
Nun danket alle Gott
Mit Herzen, Mund und Händen,
Der große Dinge tut
An uns an allen Enden,
Der uns von Mutterleib
Und Kindesbeinen an
Unzählig viel zugut
Und noch jetzund getan.

Der ewig reiche Gott
Woll uns bei unserm Leben
Ein immer fröhlich Herz
Und edlen Frieden geben
Und uns in seiner Gnad
Erhalten fort und fort
Und uns in aller Not
Erlösen hier und dort.

Now thank you all God
With hearts, voice, and hands,
Who does great things
For us to all purposes,
Who for us from the womb
And childhood onward
Has done countless things
And still continues to do.

May the ever-bounteous God
Grant us in our lives
An ever-joyous heart
And noble peace
And in his grace
Preserve us on and on
And, in all affliction,
Redeem us here and there.

Rinkart’s third strophe makes no reference at all to the book of Sirach as it continues with praise of the Trinity.

Bach’s composition of this three-strophe chorale text has been handed down to us without an express purpose or occasion, and the very generalized, festive nature of the hymn does not suggest one. [Please see the addendum.—Trans.] Virtually all possibilities are open, from wedding and birthday to Reformation Day to town council election. The chorale is thought to have originated in 1730 or in the first few months of the following year. Based on the appearance of its performing parts, the solo cantata Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen BWV 51 can be regarded as a sister work. But since that cantata was originally written for all times in the church calendar, it can offer no clue as to the occasion for which the cantata Nun danket alle Gott was written. An additional problem for our cantata arises from the fact that no score, either autograph or copy, has been handed down to us. Only a single movement has been preserved, in original performing parts, for which the usual folder with details of scoring is missing. Even so, it is clear that one part for tenor must be expanded, and filling this lacuna presents no particular problem. Whether Bach’s composition required any brass instruments in addition to the strings and woodwinds (two horns seem likely; this would assume that their performing parts have gone astray as well) is a question that must remain undecided at present.

The cantata’s opening movement follows the model seen at every turn in Bach’s annual cycle of chorale cantatas: the chorale melody presented phrase by phrase in long note values by the sopranos, the other voices providing motet-like counterpoint, the whole unified by an independent concertante instrumental component. However, this movement presents a unique feature in that the soprano is not limited to the chorale melody but participates in the motet-like material at several points, at times quite extensively.

The second movement, a duet for soprano and bass, combines the imitative writing in the voices, clearly related to the chorale melody, with a regular periodic phrase structure in the instrumental part that lends the whole the character of a solemn, slow dance.

The festive and dance-like character of the closing choral movement, with its 12
8 meter akin to the round dance, is even more pronounced. At first glance, the roles of the voices and instruments seem similar to the opening movement. Yet here the instrumental part, compared to the “classic model” of opening movements in the chorale cantata annual cycle, is more figural than concertante, and the voices accompanying the soprano seem restrained despite all their animated agility. And so, despite its similarity to the basic design of the first movement, this closing movement is more in the tradition of the closing chorale movement with figural episodes.
Addendum
Marc-Roderich Pfau (2015) has argued that a printed text from the court of Duke Christian of Saxe-Weissenfels is associated with a performance of BWV 192 for Trinity 1730 in Sangerhausen and that three other late per omnes versus chorale cantatas (BWV 97, 100, and 117) were similarly composed by Bach on commission from the Weissenfels court for special occasions there and elsewhere. Previously, no compositions by Bach could be identified as having originated for Weissenfels between 1729 and 1736, when Bach held the title Royal Kapellmeister of Saxe-Weissenfels (Hochfürstlich Sächsisch-Weißenfelsischer Kapellmeister von Haus aus).
Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan BWV 100 / BC A 191 9 Chorale cantata per omnes versus on hymn by Rodigast. Occasion unknown. First performed in 1734 in Leipzig after Trinity 1727. . plain 2024-04-24T18:40:09+00:00 BWV 100 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 Chorale Cantata per omnes versus BC A 191 Johann Sebastian Bach Rodigast Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan BWV 100 / BC A 191" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 569 James A. Brokaw II in 1734 Leipzig after Trinity 1727
Purpose Not Transmitted, 1734–1735
The cantata Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan BWV 100 (What God does is well done) is the last of three cantatas by Bach that bear that particular title. To some extent, it is caught in between the front lines in Bach’s vocal work. On the one hand, it is among the relatively small group of cantatas that rely in all movements on the unaltered text of a chorale. On the other, it shares with several sibling works a certain homelessness in the church calendar. By all appearances, the composer avoided clarifying the situation, for whatever reason, intending from the very start that the work be usable at any time and for any occasion. Still, it is conceivable that the composition was originally a commissioned work or one bound to a specific occasion. Consequently, as the cantatas were divided among the heirs after Bach’s death, the cantata landed in a stack with the label “all sorts of pieces” (von Allerhand Stücken).

For the text, Bach used all six strophes of the 1674 hymn by Samuel Rodigast,which appeared in hymnals of the period beneath the rubric “Kreuz- und Trost-Lieder” (Songs of affliction and consolation). Overall, the musical design hews to the pattern characteristic of the chorale cantata annual cycle but with certain modifications. Those deviations from the norm are entirely due to the fact that our cantata originated at least a decade after that annual cycle, by all appearances in 1734.

Nevertheless, the opening movement is literally bound to the annual cycle of chorale cantatas since it adopts the entire first movement from the work of the same name from 1724. Here, the instrumental ensemble of strings and two woodwinds is expanded by two horns and drums, making the work more festive. Despite this change, which necessarily affects the timbral balance, Bach maintains the original material, particularly, the almost constant emergence of the two woodwind instruments, the flute and oboe.

In contrast to many works in Bach’s chorale cantata cycle, this late composition avoids using the chorale melody in its internal movements, with a single exception. Similarly, recitatives are omitted. On the other hand, various movement types are presented, for the most part with an almost didactic intensity and intentionality.

The second chorale strophe is set as a duet. In constant eighth-note motion, the basso continuo approaches ostinato technique as it goes on its way with frequent repetitions and only slight modifications. No other instruments participate; alto and tenor are left to their own devices, clinging to one another with constant imitations and thus keeping to the chorale verse “Er führet mich auf rechter Bahn, / So laß ich mich begnügen” (He leads me on the true path, / So I allow myself to be content).

The third chorale strophe is set as an aria for soprano in the elegiac key of B minor with siciliano rhythm, familiar from the “Erbarme dich” from the St. Matthew Passion BWV 244/39. The soprano is joined by a solo flute, entwining the voice’s expressive passages with unbroken garlands of figuration. The fourth movement, an aria for bass with strings in a fashionably syncopated 2
4 meter, qualifies this genuflection to the spirit of the age with clearly perceptible echoes of the chorale melody. The energetic momentum of the duple meter proves to be a challenge after the middle of the movement, when it must be adapted to the chorale lines “Ich will mich ihm ergeben / In Freud und Leid” (I will submit myself to him / In joy and suffering).

The last aria, a trio for alto, oboe d’amore, and basso continuo, is characterized by a softly flowing pastorale melody. The comforting voices of the woodwinds accentuate the images in the chorale “süßen Trost” (sweet comfort) and the “Weichen aller Schmerzen” (retreat of all sorrow) and act as an equalizer when “Kelch” (cup) and “Schrecken” (terror) are spoken of.

Like the opening movement, the closing chorale goes back to an older cantata by Bach: the chorale that concludes parts 1 and 2 of Die Elenden sollen essen BWV 75 (The afflicted shall eat), performed as Bach’s debut in Leipzig on May 30, 1723. The scoring of the earlier work—two oboes with strings—is elevated to the level of the first movement: the strings are joined by flute and oboe d’amore, as well as the festive brilliance of two horns. In this way, the rather mechanical figuration of the two obbligato parts is concealed as far as possible.

Our cantata was reperformed during the composer’s lifetime as well as afterward. Even Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach prepared a performance, probably in Hamburg after 1780. On the title envelope he noted, “Notabene kan nicht wohl parodirt werden” (Nota bene can not easily be parodied), by which he meant that it would not be possible to manage a new text. He designated the first and sixth movements as “Tutti”; the second verse as “Duetto Alto und Tenore, mit einem Bass Thema” (duet for alto and tenor, with a bass theme); and the fourth movement as “Basso, mit zwei Violinen und Viola” (bass, with two violins and viola). He notated rescorings for the third and fifth movements. While he only stipulated for the fifth movement that the oboe d’amore—by now obsolete—was to be replaced by an ordinary oboe, for the third movement the note regarding the obbligato part reads: “Flauto solo (wird, wie die ganze Stimme mit der concertirenden Violin gespielt, alle 32theile werden gezogen)” (solo flute [to be played together with the concertante violin for the whole part, the thirty-second-note passages to be omitted]). Whether these notes, with their remarkable performing instructions for the third movement with its abundant thirty-second-note motion, were intended for a performance led by the Bach son or whether he intended to loan the performing parts out lies beyond our knowledge at present.
Addendum
Bach visited Weissenfels in February 1729 for the birthday of Duke Christian, for whose birthdays Bach had written the Hunt Cantata BWV 208 around 1713 and Entfliehet, verschwindet, entweichet, ihr Sorgen BWV 249.1 in 1725. Shortly thereafter, Bach received the title Kapellmeister, an appointment he held until the duke’s death on June 28, 1736. Oddly, however, no compositions by Bach could be directly associated with Weissenfels through archival evidence during this period. In conjunction with his argument published in 1989 that the cantata Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen BWV 51 may have been performed in Weissenfels for the duke’s birthday, Klaus Hofmann pointed to several other cantatas as potentially having their origins at Weissenfels as well.¹ Among these are four per omnes versus chorale cantatas (a per omnes versus chorale cantata is one that employs the complete text of its source chorale without change): Nun danket alle Gott BWV 192, Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchstes Gut BWV 117, Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan BWV 100, and In allen meinen Taten BWV 97. The case for these four works was strengthened in 2015 by Marc-Roderich Pfau’s discovery of two text booklets for Weissenfels church services that print the entire texts for two of these works, BWV 192 and 117.² This is remarkable because normally only the incipits of the hymns were printed, because the congregation knew the hymns well. The other two chorale cantatas, BWV 100 and 97, have autograph scores dated to the same period but are not accompanied by text booklets, which survive only sporadically.
Footnotes
1. Hofmann (1989, 54n40).—Trans.↵
2. Pfau (2015).—Trans.↵
In allen meinen Taten BWV 97 / BC A 189 8 Chorale cantata per omnes versus on hymn by Paul Fleming. Occasion unknown. First performed in 1734 in Leipzig after Trinity 1727. . plain 2024-04-24T17:14:13+00:00 BWV 97 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 Chorale Cantata per omnes versus BC A 189 Johann Sebastian Bach Paul Fleming Hans-Joachim Schulze, "In allen meinen Taten BWV 97 / BC A 189" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 565 James A. Brokaw II in 1734 Leipzig after Trinity 1727
Purpose Not Transmitted, 1734
This cantata, In allen meinen Taten BWV 97 (In all my deeds), belongs to a small group of vocal compositions by Johann Sebastian Bach that are based on a chorale in its original state, that is, with all of its strophes intact and unchanged. Sibling works that particularly bear mentioning here are the cantatas Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut BWV 117, Nun danket alle Gott BWV 192, Lobe den Herrn, den mächtigen König der Ehren BWV 137, and Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan BWV 100. For the most part, these are chorale compositions without specific occasions in the church calendar; that is, the chorale’s equivocal assignments in hymnals are reflected in concertante church music. With respect to our cantata, a copy from the second half of the nineteenth century seems to qualify this observation, since it mentions that the work is for the fifth Sunday after Trinity. But since this statement cannot be corroborated by other evidence, it remains uncertain.¹

More significant is a note in Bach’s score, entered by a contemporary, according to which the last three movements are meant for performance “after the wedding” (nach der Trauung). In fact, the hymn In allen meinen Taten is found in hymn collections of the period beneath the rubric “Standes- und Berufs-Lieder” (Hymns of rites of passage in life and profession) with the separate heading “Vom Ehe- und Hausstande” (Of marriage and household). Bach’s score is dated 1734 in the hand of the composer. Whether the work was initially intended for a wedding or whether the note was applied in connection with a much later reperformance remains unclear at present. The person who made the note “nach der Trauung” can certainly be regarded as reliable because he apparently belonged to the circle around Bach’s son-in-law Johann Christoph Altnickol in Naumburg, is later known to have been active in Jena and even in Leipzig, and is thought to have been born only in 1734 or 1735.²

It should also be borne in mind that the chorale in question originally was focused in an entirely different direction. In hymnaries of the period, it even appears with the heading “Ein schönes Reiselied” (A beautiful journeying hymn), and this characterization has to do with the biography of the poet. Paul Fleming, the hymn’s author, came from Hartenstein in Saxony, not far from Zwickau near the Ore Mountains. He was born there in 1609 as the son of a schoolmaster whose promotion to deacon and then pastor made possible his son’s attendance at the secondary school in Mittweida as well as the St. Thomas School in Leipzig and finally his study of medicine at the University of Leipzig. In Leipzig his poetic ambitions received a major boost when he met Martin Opitz, twelve years his senior, who was head of the Silesian school of poetry. The turmoil of war and, in particular, developments following the death of King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden caused Fleming to leave Leipzig and seek his fortune in the land of Duke Friedrich of Schleswig-Holstein. From October 1633 until April 1635 he took part in a delegation journey to Moscow that hoped to win transit permits for a later delegation through Reval, Moscow, Astrakhan, and the Caspian Sea to Persia. This second expedition indeed took place, and Fleming was again among the participants. On this trip, his time away from home lasted almost four years. Within months of his return to Hamburg in early 1640, Fleming died as a result of the stress of travel. He penned the chorale In allen meinen Taten during preparations for his first trip in 1633, a journey that was shorter but hardly less dangerous.

In its original form, the chorale included more than the nine strophes used in Bach’s cantata. Older hymn collections preserve this more extensive version as a Reise-Lied, even though they recommend omitting some of the verses if the hymn were to be sung for other occasions. The first of these special Reise-Strophen reads:
Ich zieh in ferne Lande,
Zu nützen einem Stande,
An den er mich gestellt.
Sein Segen wird mir lassen,
Was gut und recht ist, fassen,
Zu dienen seiner Welt.

I travel to distant lands
To serve a purpose
For which he has placed me.
His blessing will allow me
What is good and right to grasp
To serve his world.

Other special strophes concern Christ as protector and aid in danger, the means of travel, protection against enemy attacks through the intervention of an angel, the hope for a happy return, the blessing and protection of those at home. The nine strophes that form the core of the chorale, which appear in nearly all pertinent hymn collections, address the main idea presented in the first strophe from various perspectives:
In allen meinen Taten
Laß ich den Höchsten raten,
Der alles kann und hat;
Er muß zu allen Dingen,
Solls anders wohl gelingen,
Selbst geben Rat und Tat.

In all my deeds
I let the Most High counsel me,
Who has and can do everything;
He must, in all things,
If it should otherwise succeed,
Give counsel and action himself.

As we have said, Bach’s composition relies upon the unchanged chorale text and, indeed, that of the shorter version comprising only nine strophes. Because Bach dispenses here with the otherwise common procedure of reshaping the internal strophes to approach the modern formal world of aria and recitative, several strophes must accommodate themselves to composition not only as arias but even as recitatives. However, Bach made every effort in the opening and closing movements to compensate for this problematic aspect. The first movement in particular radiates dignity and celebration, as it combines the modern instrumental form of French overture with cantus firmus polyphonic chorale arrangement.

Accordingly, oboes, strings, and the basso continuo proceed in a solemn introduction marked Grave with stately harmonies in alternation with dotted rhythms and pathos-laden, wide-ranging scales. As expected, the soprano presents the chorale melody. But in contrast to his method in his chorale cantatas composed a decade earlier, the other voices do not provide motet-like counterpoint, with the choir enclosed in an independent motivically unified instrumental part. Instead, the three lower voices perform passages that are scarcely different from the animated instrumental part; little care is taken to maintain the distinction between vocal and instrumental voice leading. Certainly, Bach is aiming for a meaningful unity here as he effects a far-reaching integration of the vocal part with the dominant instrumental part—but very much at the expense of the choral singers. With respect to the French overture form, the composer opts for a two-part design, distancing himself from the traditional tripartite scheme. Even so, the connection to the origins of the form is preserved in other ways: in two episodes in the fast section, a classic example of a “French trio”—two oboes and a bassoon—emerges soloistically.

A reminiscence of a completely different kind awaits in the closing chorale: here the four-part vocal texture joins the three independent parts of the strings, thereby achieving a seven-part texture, for which Johann Sebastian Bach had previously shown a preference near the end of his time at Weimar.

The arias and recitatives, situated between the cornerstones of the French overture and closing chorale, all avoid any reference to the chorale tune, the melody O Welt ich muß dich lassen (O world, I must leave you) by Heinrich Isaac. Instead, they attempt in many different ways to interpret the chorale strophes. The relatively large number of single movements makes possible a broad spectrum of various procedures and settings. The secco recitative is represented here, in which the voice is supported only by the continuo, as well as the accompagnato recitative, enriched by the strings. An aria for alto and strings that pays tribute to the catchy syncopations of the fashionable Lombard rhythm is juxtaposed to a rather conventional aria for soprano and two oboes. A bass aria accompanied only by the basso continuo effects a kind of barrenness that seems appropriate to the text “mein Sorgen ist umsonst” (my care is in vain), while the same procedure in the duet for soprano and bass allows the confirming and empowering imitation in the voices to be perceived clearly. The tenor aria, the fourth movement, seems a bit curious among these events; here a solo violin is added to the voice, which seeks to evoke another memory: with virtuoso figuration, expressive scales, and chordal textures of two to four parts, it harks back to the Sonatas and Partitas for Violin Alone (BWV 1001–6), which Bach completed by 1720 at the latest and which may go back to his years at Weimar.
Footnotes
1. Marc-Roderich Pfau has proposed that BWV 97, as well as three further chorale cantatas without stipulated occasions in the church calendar, may have been composed by Bach for the court of Weissenfels when Bach held the title of court music director there from 1729 to 1736. See Pfau (2015, 347).—Trans.↵
2. Wollny (2000, 90–92); Wollny (2002, 46–47).↵