This page is referenced by:

• 1 2023-09-26T09:37:19+00:00 Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen BWV 213 / BC G 18 15 Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen BWV 213. . Birthday celebration cantata for Friedrich Christian, Crown Prince of Saxony/Poland. First performed on Sep 05, 1733 in Leipzig. Text by CF Henrici (Picander). plain 2024-04-24T14:55:13+00:00 1733-09-05 BWV 213 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 Birthday celebration BC G 18 Johann Sebastian Bach CF Henrici (Picander) Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Lasst uns sorgen, lasst uns wachen, BWV 213 / BC G 18" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 672 James A. Brokaw II Saxony-Poland Friedrich Christian, Crown Prince of Saxony/Poland

  Dramma per musica, Hercules auf dem Scheide-Wege

  Members of Princely Houses: Saxony/Poland, September 5, 1733

  Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen BWV 213 (Let us care for, let us watch) belongs to a series of festival pieces that the Thomaskantor performed at functions with his Collegium Musicum, all of which celebrated birthdays and name days of the family of the prince elector of Saxony in Dresden. It is certainly no coincidence that the large number of these in close succession overshadows Bach’s previous activities of this kind. A likely explanation is that Johann Sebastian Bach hoped for a quick approval of the petition he sent in July 1733 for a title at the court of Dresden and that he wanted to strike while the iron was hot.
  
  One month after the outdoor performance of an homage cantata, now sadly lost, for the name day of the elector-prince, the Leipzig press once again announced a concert: “Tomorrow, the fifth of September of this year, in the Zimmermann garden before the Grimma Gate, the Bach Collegium Musicum will most humbly celebrate the high birthday of the Most Serene Elector-Prince of Saxony with a solemn musical work in the afternoon from four until six o’clock.”¹ “Elector-Prince” refers to Friedrich Christian, born in 1722, the son of Elector Friedrich August II of Saxony and his wife, Maria Josepha, born archduchess of Austria and daughter of a German emperor. A weak and sickly child according to a contemporary report, Friedrich Christian lived only forty-one years, dying in 1763 shortly after his father. Even so, for the young successor to the throne, Bach’s librettist Christian Friedrich Henrici chose the famous myth of the young Hercules who must choose between the easy path of “Wollust” (sensuality) and the steep, rough path of “Tugend” (virtue).
  
  The dedication to an eleven-year-old was certainly not record-breaking: on one occasion a librettist at the court of Gera drafted Tafelmusik (table music)—probably for composition by the Kapellmeister Emanuel Kegel—entitled Herculis Jugend und Tugend . . . für Heinrich [den] I., Reuß jüngerer Linie, als Selbiger am 10. März 1700 das Fünfte Jahr zurücklegte / mit eben so viel Sinn-Bildern (Hercules’s youth and virtue . . . for Heinrich [the] First, Reuß of the younger line, who completed his fifth year on March 10, 1700 / with just as many allegorical tableaux). This was probably an extreme case; normally such things were dedicated to adults. For example, on August 24, 1725, in Arnstadt, table music composed by Johann Balthasar Christian Freislich was performed for the birthday of Prince Günther: Der siegende Hercules als Bild eines sich selbst beherrschenden Regenten (Victorious Hercules, as the image of a self-governing regent). A few weeks earlier, Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel in Gotha celebrated the birthday of Duke Friedrich with a “drama” entitled Hercules Prodicius oder die triumphirende Tugend (Hercules, or virtue triumphant); two years later he presented this work on the Hamburg stage but without the homage scenes.² In the summer of 1750, immediately upon his return from his last trip to Germany, George Frideric Handel composed his musical “Interludium” The Choice of Hercules and performed it in March of the following year in Covent Garden in connection with Alexander’s Feast. In early September 1773, exactly forty years after Bach’s homage cantata, princely virtues were again exemplified by the “Choice of Hercules”: the librettist and composer were Christoph Martin Wieland and Anton Schweitzer, and the honoree was the then sixteen-year-old Crown Prince Carl August of Saxe-Weimar. Here again, the frail health of the dedicatee was papered over with pithy language. Yet Carl August was granted a happier fate than his Saxon forerunner: he enjoyed a long regency; Goethe’s appointment to Weimar at its beginning was a good omen, as it were.
  
  In a composition by the famous Hamburg opera composer Reinhard Keiser, entitled Concerto a tre Voci con Stromenti / Hercules auf dem Scheide-Wege, wo zur Rechten die Tugend, zur lincken Hand aber die Wollust sitzet (Concerto for three voices with strings / Hercules at the crossroad, where virtue is at the right, but sensuality is at the left hand), arias and recitatives are arranged rather schematically, one after the other,³ a hazard Bach and his librettist Henrici skillfully avoided. Instead, the heart of the action is framed by two tutti movements, declared as “Rathschluß der Götter” (Decree of the gods) at the beginning and “Chor der Musen” (Chorus of the Muses) at the end. Thus Hercules wrestles with his fate in solitude, with an echo as his partner in colloquy, and the alliance finally struck between Hercules and Virtue gives rise to an extended love duet. Finally, the trio of Hercules, Sensuality, and Virtue, in a somewhat unconventional interpretation of mythology, is joined by Mercury, messenger of the gods and patron deity of commerce—unmistakably a “broad hint” in the direction of Leipzig, the trade fair city.
  
  For the most part, Bach composed the extensive, thirteen-movement libretto in the summer of 1733, admittedly including several older movements. The closing chorus, similar to a gavotte, goes back to a Köthen secular cantata perhaps from 1721 (BWV 184.1/6).⁴ In a texture typical of Bach’s Köthen years, the vocal component is scored only for soprano and bass. In 1724 Bach used it in a Leipzig cantata for the third day of Pentecost (Erwünschtes Freudenlicht BWV 184.2), expanding it to four parts. The duet between Hercules and Virtue and the “echo aria” are based on an as yet unidentified model. For the duet, Bach had another idea in mind; he planned to use a duet that would later serve as the model for the duet “Et in unum Dominum” of the Mass in B Minor BWV 232. 
  
  The opening chorus and all four arias have become well known by virtue of their borrowing by the first four cantatas of the Christmas Oratorio in 1734–35. There has been much discussion and speculation over what is called parody procedure, that is, providing an existing work with new text or occasionally reworking it. In contrast to earlier interpretation, today it is undisputed that librettists devised the new texts with great circumspection, sensitivity, and understanding of the work.⁵ Even the incorporation of the echo aria into the oratorio, long misunderstood, is now regarded as legitimate once its theological motivation could be investigated. Virtue’s aria can be seen as characteristic of the procedure followed by Bach and his librettist: 

  Auf meinen Flügeln sollst du schweben,
  Auf meinem Fittich steigest du
  Den Sternen wie ein Adler zu.
  
  On my wings you shall hover,
  On my pinions you shall climb
  To the stars like an eagle.

  
  The beginning of Picander’s text alludes to Bible verses in Exodus and Deuteronomy 32:11: “Wie ein Adler ausführt seine Jungen und über ihnen schwebt, breitete er seine Fittiche aus und nahm ihn und trug ihn auf seinen Flügeln” (As an eagle carries out its young and hovers over them, he spread his wings and took him and carried him on his pinions). Bach sets the “steigen” (climb) and “schweben” (hover) with an appropriate figure; and for the figure of Virtue and the perfection it promises in the later course of the text, he judges fugue to be the only appropriate means. An aria so constructed could only be moved into the Christmas Oratorio by virtue of the skill of the librettist, who supplied the new text with the equally suitable keywords “Ehre” (honor), “Kraft” (strength), and “Mut” (courage). Admittedly, the long-standing question remains open whether Bach had the multisectional Christmas Oratorio in mind while at work on the homage cantata in 1733 and 1734 and whether this goal guided his effort, consciously or unconsciously.

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. “Das Bachische Collegium Musicum wird Morgen als den 5. September anni currentis im Zimmermannischen Garten vor dem Grimmischen Thore den hohen Geburtstag des Durchlauchtigsten Chur-Prinzen von Sachsen mit einer solennen Musick von Nachmittag 4. Bis 6. Uhr unterthänigst zelebrieren” (BD II:241 [no. 337]).—Trans.↵
  2. Böhme (1931, 113).↵
  3. Petzoldt (1935, 56 ff.).↵
  4. Neither the music nor the text has survived. The cantata’s existence is evidenced only by five surviving instrumental parts.—Trans.↵
  5. Schulze (1989); Schulze (1997).↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:33:55+00:00 Erfreut euch, Ihr Herzen BWV 66 / BC A 56 11 Second Day of Easter. First performed 04/10/1724 in Leipzig (Cycle I). plain 2024-04-24T16:28:03+00:00 1724-04-10 BWV 66 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 21Easter1 Second Day of Easter BC A 56 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Erfreut euch, Ihr Herzen, BWV 66 / BC A 56" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 181 James A. Brokaw II Leipzig I

  Easter Monday, April 10, 1724

  The cantatas Der Himmel lacht, die Erde jubiliert BWV 31 (Heaven laughs, the earth rejoices), Erfreut euch, ihr Herzen BWV 66 (Rejoice, you hearts), and Ein Herz, das seinen Jesum lebend weiß BWV 134 (A heart that knows its Jesus to be alive) constitute a group of compositions for the first, second, and third days of Easter, and they were heard in this order at least three times in Leipzig on the three holidays in 1724, 1731, and 1736. The three works have in common that they are not products of Bach’s Leipzig period but come from older stock. The cantata for the first day of Easter originated in Weimar, and the two others go back to secular works from Bach’s time in Köthen, around 1720. The origin of the cantata for the third day of Easter was easily discovered in the nineteenth century when Bach’s own copy of the secular original came to light.
  
  The situation was different for the cantata meant for the second day of Easter, Erfreut euch, ihr Herzen. In this case, no early version was known at first. However, Philipp Spitta, the great Bach expert of the nineteenth century, was so struck by what he called the work’s “pleasing character” (gefällige Charakter) that he felt compelled to search for the reasons for it. He thought he had found these reasons in the vicinity of the cantata for the third day of Easter, which could be shown to go back to a Köthen version, prompting him to hypothesize an attempt at assimilation by Bach. Spitta wrote:

  Bach had the gift of throwing himself, up to a certain point, into various kinds of styles, whether those of other persons or his own in his earlier phases. Careful comparison will at once show that there is a relation between the occasional cantata “Erfreut euch ihr Herzen” and the same in its remodeled form. A pleasing character, aiming rather at breadth than at depth, is not the only characteristic that is common to both. The first chorus of the earlier composition agrees exactly in its plan with the last chorus of the later work, and even the passages set as duets, especially those of the middle movement, which in the occasional compositions were necessitated by the text, were copied in their setting in the Easter cantata. Both are full of genius and elegance, although they cannot lay claim to a prominent place among Bach’s Easter compositions.¹

  
  In light of our current knowledge, Spitta’s description of stylistic and compositional attributes hits the mark, but his suggestion of a deliberate assimilation on Bach's part took him down the wrong track. Thus the relationship of Erfreut uns, ihr Herzen to a vanished Köthen homage cantata escaped Spitta, even as he investigated its text after the second volume of his monumental Bach biography was published. Spitta had discovered that Christian Friedrich Hunold, born in Thuringia, a few years older than Bach, active as a poet at the court of Köthen for several years, had settled in nearby Halle, where he held readings on poetry and jurisprudence and supplemented his income by writing occasional poetry. Among the printed collections of poetry by Hunold, who adopted the pen name Menantes, Spitta stumbled upon the text for a serenata on the birthday of Prince Leopold of Köthen in 1718—but he let the matter rest with a short description and the carefully expressed doubt that Bach, overburdened with work during the period in question, could have composed the text at all. 
  
  From this point forward, the case of the Köthen serenata remained closed for half a century until Friedrich Smend, one of the most important Bach researchers of the twentieth century, took up the matter again. Smend showed convincingly that the Easter cantata Erfreut euch, ihr Herzen, except for its closing chorale, goes back to the Köthen serenata of 1718, even though only the text of this secular predecessor survives, its musical sources deemed entirely lost or destroyed. Hunold’s serenade text appeared under the title Das frolockende Anhalt (Anhalt rejoicing) in honor of Prince Leopold’s birthday on December 10, 1718. Hunold arranged the text itself as a dialogue, the interlocutors being “Die Glückseligkeit Anhalts” (The happiness of Anhalt) and “Fama,” the goddess of fame. The serenade included eight movements: four recitatives, two arias, a duet, and a concluding ensemble. The first four movements, as well as the closing ensemble, were adopted in the church cantata. The fact that the last movement became the opening movement of the church piece made the discovery of the connection somewhat more difficult. With one exception, the music of the other three movements of the original secular version left behind no trace among the compositions of J. S. Bach known today. 
  
  As Bach set about preparing church music for the Easter holidays, at the very latest in early 1724, and decided to revise two Köthen secular cantatas that had originated only three weeks apart as church cantatas, he must have been sure that he had available a text poet who was up to the task. For this person had to solve the problem not only of providing the arias, with their relatively regular strophic forms, with new text but also of accomplishing the same with the largely heterogeneous lines of the recitatives. The results of such a labor-intensive effort could turn out in very different ways: satisfaction of the composer and audience or extensive disapproval due to lack of quality, and the two might lie very close to one another. The prevailing view of older scholars, that such cases of retexting generally involve the mediocre stencil work of a mediocre poet, must be revised in the light of more recent findings that this work was often performed under more stringent standards. If an acceptable level of quality were to be achieved, the author of the new text needed, in addition to the previous text, a copy of the score or at least information regarding the layout of the composition, movement character, and the musical emphasis of individual words, thoughts, or entire movements.²
  
  The unknown poet contracted by Bach who was to transform the 1718 serenade into a cantata for the second day of Easter also had to struggle with the dialogue character of several movements in the secular early version. He addressed this point of view in part by neglecting it and in part by introducing a dialogue in his revision between “Zuversicht” (Faith) and “Schwachheit” (Weakness). In a later reperformance, Bach changed these personifications to “Hoffnung” (Hope) and “Furcht” (Fear). Overall, an acceptable text underlay was achieved, if restricted to the death and resurrection of Jesus and without any clear relationship to the Gospel reading of the Sunday, the journey of the disciples to Emmaus in the twenty-fourth chapter of Luke. 
  
  The opening movement of the church cantata, whose early version was the concluding movement of the Köthen serenade, provides a good example of the nature of the retexting. In the secular version it reads:

  Es strahle die Sonne,
  Es lache die Wonne, 
  Es lebe Fürst Leopold ewig beglückt.
  Ach Himmel, wir flehen,
  Dies holde Licht sechzigmal wiederzusehen.
  Gib, Höchster, was unsern Regenten erquickt.
  
  May the sun shine,
  May delight laugh,
  May Prince Leopold live ever fortunate.
  O heaven, we plead,
  To see this sweet light sixty times again.
  Give, Most High, that which our regent refreshes.

  
  In the Easter cantata, this became:

  Erfreut euch, ihr Herzen,
  Entweichet ihr Schmerzen,
  Es lebet der Heiland und herrschet in euch.
  Ihr könnet verjagen
  Das Trauren, das Fürchten, das ängstliche Zagen,
  Der Heiland erquicket sein geistliches Reich.
  
  Rejoice, you hearts,
  Vanish, you sorrows,
  The savior lives and reigns in you.
  You can drive away
  The mourning, the fears, the anxious dismay,
  The savior fortifies his spiritual realm.

  
  Even in its altered form and despite the chance provided by the new text to revisit the musical substance, Bach’s composition allows its original essence to show through in many ways. This is particularly true of the dance-like first and last sections of the opening movement, which pose no serious problems for the chorus but include all sorts of tricky passages for the instruments. In none of the cantatas he composed for Leipzig did Bach allow the second violin to climb to an a′′′ in thirty-second-note motion—but as a relic of a virtuoso piece for the Köthen court, he retained it in the Easter cantata. Whether the agonizingly chromatic middle section with its long duet between alto and bass was brought over from the secular version must be left open; the relatively neutral text “Ach Himmel, wir flehen” (O heaven, we plead) speaks against such a possibility. The third movement, an aria for bass whose text originally began with “Traget, ihr Lüfte, den Jubel von hinnen” (Carry, you breezes, the reveling from afar), now “Lasset dem Höchsten ein Danklied erschallen” (Let to the Most High a song of thanks resound), points to the court of Köthen not only with its dance-like character but also with its considerable length at more than 330 measures. The actual dialogue movements—the fourth and fifth movements—prove to be equally demanding, with an extended concerted passage in the middle of the recitative as well as an obbligato violin part with relentless figuration in the duet between “Furcht” and “Hoffnung.” The concluding chorale seems a little out of place in this setting, the third strophe of the ancient Easter hymn Christ ist erstanden.

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. Spitta (1899, 3:68–69).—Trans.↵
  2. Schulze (1989).—Trans.↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:36:44+00:00 Fallt mit Danken, fallt mit Loben BWV 248 IV / BC D 7 IV 7 New Year's Day. Part of Christmas Oratorio. First performed 01/01/1735 at Leipzig. plain 2024-04-24T14:45:32+00:00 1735-01-01 BWV 248 IV Leipzig 12NewYear New Year's Day BC D 7 IV Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Fallet mit Danken, fallet mit Loben, BWV 248 IV / BC D 7 IV" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 641 James A. Brokaw II Christmas Oratorio Leipzig

  Christmas Oratorio IV, January 1, 1735

  The fourth cantata of the Christmas Oratorio, Fallt mit Danken, fallt mit Loben BWV 248 IV (Bow with thanks, bow with praise), is for New Year’s Day; according to an original print of the text, it was first performed on January 1, 1735, in the main churches of Leipzig: “in the morning at St. Thomas, in the afternoon at St. Nicholas.” The New Year holiday is the feast of the circumcision and naming of Jesus. The Gospel reading for the day comprises only a single verse from Luke 2: “And when eight days had passed, the child was circumcised, he was named Jesus, named by the angel before he was conceived in his mother’s body” (21). In Bach’s day, texts of cantatas for New Year’s Day generally revolved around the symbolic power of the naming of Jesus, as well as hopes and wishes for the coming year. In Bach’s fourth cantata, the unknown librettist of the Christmas Oratorio took this twofold reference into account by including two appropriate chorale strophes, both by Johann Rist and first published in 1642. Bach took the opening strophe from the chorale Jesu, du mein liebstes Leben (Jesus, you, my dearest life), which appears in hymnals of the era under the heading “Jesus-Lieder” (Jesus hymns):

  Jesu, du mein liebstes Leben,
  Meiner Seelen Bräutigam,
  Der du dich vor mich gegeben
  An des bittern Kreuzes Stamm,
  Jesu, meine Freud und Wonne, 
  Meine Hoffnung, Schatz und Teil,
  Mein Erlösung, Schmuck und Heil,
  Hirt und König, Licht und Sonne,
  Ach! Wie soll ich würdiglich,
  Mein Herr Jesu, preisen dich?
  
  Jesus, you, my dearest life,
  My soul’s bridegroom,
  You who gave yourself for me
  On the cross’s bitter stem,
  Jesus, my joy and gladness,
  My hope, treasure, and portion,
  My redemption, jewel, and salvation, 
  Shepherd and king, light and sun,
  Ah! How shall I worthily,
  My Lord Jesus, praise you?

  
  For the closing chorale Bach chose the fifteenth strophe from Hilf, Herr Jesu, laß gelingen (Help, Lord Jesus, let prosper), from Neujahrs-Liedern (New Year’s hymns):

  Jesus richte mein Beginnen,
  Jesus bleibe stets bei mir,
  Jesus zäume mir die Sinnen,
  Jesus sei nur mein Begier,
  Jesus sei mir in Gedanken,
  Jesu, lasse mich nicht wanken!
  
  Jesus, direct my beginning,
  Jesus, remain always with me,
  Jesus, bridle my urgings,
  Jesus, be my sole desire,
  Jesus, be with me in my thoughts,
  Jesu, do not let me waver! 

  
  The librettist had very limited scope in fashioning freely versified recitatives and arias. Probably according to the composer’s wish, recitatives were to be limited to interpolations within Johann Rist’s Jesus hymn and the aria forms (which include the opening chorus) were all to be drawn from works already on hand, supplied with new texts—in other words, products of parody procedure. This was employed first and foremost in the opening movement, for which Bach drew upon the first movement of the homage cantata of 1733 for Elector-Prince Friedrich Christian, Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen BWV 213 (Let us nurture, let us watch). From the original “Decree of the Gods,” whose text begins “Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen / Über unsern Göttersohn” (Let us nurture, let us watch / Over our son of the gods), the librettist fashioned these rather more neutral lines: 

  Fallt mit Danken, fallt mit Loben 
  Vor des Höchsten Gnadenthron!
  Gottes Sohn
  Will der Erden
  Heiland und Erlöser werden,
  Gottes Sohn
  Dämpft der Feinde Wut und Toben.
   
  Bow with thanks, bow with praise
  Before the Almighty’s throne of grace!
  God’s son
  Would become the earth’s 
  Savior and redeemer,
  God’s son
  Deadens the rage and fury of the foe.

  
  The ensuing literal quotation from the Gospel of Luke is interpreted and commented upon by the recitative that follows, which in turn is combined with the first part of the Johann Rist chorale strophe just mentioned. The recitative begins with observations on Jesus and his name:

  Immanuel, o süßes Wort!
  Mein Jesus heißt mein Hort,
  Mein Jesus heißt mein Leben. 
  Mein Jesus hat sich mir ergeben,
  Mein Jesus soll mir immerfort
  Vor meinen Augen schweben.
  
  Immanuel, O sweet word!
  My Jesus is my refuge,
  My Jesus is my life.
  My Jesus has surrendered himself to me,
  My Jesus shall evermore
  Hover before my eyes.

  
  The phrase “des bittern Kreuzes Stamm” (the stem of the bitter cross), a memory expressed in the chorale text, brings about a sudden change of mood: death and the fear of death are now the main concerns, but they also rescue through the miraculous power of Jesus’s name:

  Ach! so nimm mich zu dir!
  Auch in dem Sterben sollst du mir
  Das Allerliebster sein;
  In Not, Gefahr und Ungemach
  Seh ich dir sehnlichst nach.
  Was jagte mir zuletzt der Tod für Grauen ein?
  Mein Jesus, wenn ich sterbe,
  So weiß ich, daß ich nicht verderbe.
  Dein Name steht in mir geschrieben,
  Der hat des Todes Furcht vertrieben.
  
  Ah! Then take me to you!
  Even in death you shall be
  The most beloved to me;
  In need, danger, and hardship,
  I gaze after you fervently.
  Why, finally, did death instill such horror in me?
  My Jesus, when I die,
  I know that I shall not go to ruin.
  Your name stands written in me.
  It has driven away the fear of death.

  
  The associated aria also goes back to a movement from the homage cantata of 1733, an aria for the young Hercules, who asks Echo for advice regarding his future path:

  Treues Echo dieser Orten,
  Sollt ich bei den Schmeichelworten
  Süßer Leitung irrig sein?
  Gib mir deine Antwort: Nein!
  [Echo:] Nein!
  Oder sollte das Ermahnen,
  Das so mancher Arbeit nah,
  Mir die Wege besser bahnen?
  Ach! So sage lieber:
  Ja!
  [Echo:] Ja!
  
  Faithful echo of these places,
  Should I be led astray by the sweet
  Guidance of words of flattery? 
  Give me your answer: No!
  [Echo:] No!
  Or should the warning
  That so much work is at hand
  Better lead the way for me?
  Ah! Then say rather:
  Yes!
  [Echo:] Yes!

  
  The new text fashioned for the Christmas Oratorio is not without problems of content and language:

  Flößt mein Heiland, flößt dein Namen
  Auch den allerkleinsten Samen
  Jenes strengen Schreckens ein?
  Nein, du sagst ja selber nein.
  Sollt ich nun das Sterben scheuen?
  Nein, dein süßes Wort ist da!
  Oder sollt ich mich erfreuen?
  Ja, du Heiland sprichsts selbst ja.
   
  Does, my savior, does your name instill
  Even the tiniest seed
  Of that stark horror?
  No, you yourself indeed say no.
  Should I now be afraid of dying?
  No, your sweet word is there!
  Or should I rejoice?
  Yes, you, the savior, yourself say yes.

  
  The so-called Echo aria was long regarded as a foreign presence in the Christmas Oratorio, inserted to accommodate the secular archetype in all its aspects. More recent research from the theological side has drawn attention to the fact that the echo dialogue, in particular the colloquy with the voice of the infant Jesus, has a well-established tradition that reaches far back into the seventeenth century and is described and praised in relevant treatises.¹ Therefore, the Echo aria should be accepted as a legitimate and intentional component of the New Year’s cantata in the Christmas Oratorio.
  
  The ensuing recitative mirrors what has preceded it. The continuation and conclusion of the Johann Rist chorale are combined with further reflections upon the name of Jesus:

  Wohlan, dein Name soll allein 
  In meinem Herzen sein! 
  So will ich dich entzücket nennen,
  Wenn Brust und Herz zu dir vor Liebe brennen.
  Doch Liebster, sage mir:
  Wie rühm ich dich, wie dank ich dir?
  
  Well, your name alone shall
  Be in my heart!
  Thus I will, entranced, name you
  When breast and heart burn with love for you.
  But, dearest, tell me:
  How can I praise you, how do I thank you?

  
  Like its predecessor, the ensuing aria is a newly texted adoption from the Hercules Cantata of 1733. There, the text for the allegorical figure of Virtue is clear and precise:

  Auf meinen Flügeln sollst du schweben,
  Auf meinem Fittich steigest du
  Den Sternen wie ein Adler zu.
  
  Upon my wings you shall hover,
  Upon my pinion you will climb
  To the stars like an eagle.

  
  The parody text, on the other hand, is somewhat problematic:

  Ich will nur dir zu Ehren leben,
  Mein Heiland, gib mir Kraft und Mut,
  Daß es mein Herz recht eifrig tut!
  Stärke mich,
  Deine Gnade würdiglich
  Und mit Danken zu erheben!
  
  I want to live only to honor you,
  My savior; give me strength and courage
  That my heart does it with true fervor!
  Strengthen me,
  Your grace, worthily
  And with thanksgiving to extol!

  
  The reason for this choice of words was evidently the musical material: its rigorous counterpoint functions as an analogue to ethical norms and moral qualities. Hence the poet avoids the familiar “Ich will nur dir zu Liebe leben” (I only want to live for you) in favor of the unusual “Ich will nur dir zu Ehre leben” (I want only to live to honor you). As mentioned earlier, the libretto closes with a strophe from Johann Rist’s hymn for New Year’s Day.
  
  What is particularly distinctive about Bach’s composition of this libretto is the expansive opening movement, which, conditioned by the structure of its model, the majestic “Decree of the Gods,” moves serenely and harmoniously to the dance step of the minuet, taking delight in the festive timbres of horns, oboes, and strings while avoiding any potential conflict. The two recitative movements for bass, soprano, and strings that surround the Echo aria, on the other hand, are laden with emotion. Strictly speaking, it is a single movement separated into two parts without too much attention paid to its structure; the two halves are placed on either side of the aria. While it does not cause much trouble for the bass voice, entrusted with the recitative passages, to pick up the thread again after the aria intermezzo, the chorale-like melody given to the soprano suffers noticeably under the rather heavy-handed partitioning. 
  
  With its lovely interplay of soprano, solo oboe, and soprano echo, the Echo aria radiates the character of the pastoral. Despite what seem to be superficial dynamic effects, one must not lose sight of the deeper theological meaning described above. The composer and the librettist have done their best to provide this movement with a new and well-founded function in the oratorio’s overall flow.
  
  The situation is similar with the last aria, which is laid out as a fugue movement for voice, two obbligato instruments, and basso continuo. The striving for technical perfection in the Hercules Cantata serves as a musical image of striving for ethical objectives in the text. The keyword “Ehre” (honor) in the new text for the Christmas Oratorio points equally to the original intention in the Hercules Cantata, as well as to its continuation in its new context.²The concluding chorale movement, expanded with instrumental interludes for horns, oboes, and strings, merely follows a traditional path regarding its text. On the other hand, the arioso chorale melody appears to be a new creation by Bach—just as is its counterpart, between the two strangely separated accompanied recitatives. 

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. Koch (1989).↵
  2. Schulze (1989).↵