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• 1 2023-09-26T09:36:44+00:00 Lobet Gott in seinen Reichen BWV 11 / BC D 9 25 Ascension. First performed 05/15/1738 at Leipzig. plain 2024-04-24T14:42:16+00:00 1738-05-15 BWV 11 Leipzig 26Ascension Ascension BC D 9 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Lobet Gott in seinen Reichen, BWV 11 / BC D 9" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 655 James A. Brokaw II Leipzig

  Ascension Day, May 15, 1738

  The Ascension Oratorio BWV 11 of 1735 belongs to a trilogy of impressive compositions for the high feasts of the church calendar.¹Among its sister works, the Christmas Oratorio BWV 248, which originated a few months earlier, consists of a series of six cantatas for the feast days from Christmas through Epiphany. It coheres through tonal and architectonic relationships and in particular through the biblical accounts from Luke 2 and Matthew 2. On the other hand, the other sibling work, for Easter, ten years older, initially consisted only of a single, one-part, festive cantata (BWV 249.3);  it received the designation Easter Oratorio only upon being reperformed in 1738 (BWV 249.4).² In contrast to the Christmas Oratorio, the work for Easter contains no original evangelist narrative but only rhymed paraphrases. With the Ascension Oratorio, the situation is different yet again. Here, in the traditional manner, a tenor serves as narrator, who presents the account divided into four parts:    

  [Lukas 24:50–51]Der Herr Jesus hub seine Hände auf und segnete seine Jünger, und es geschah, da er sie segnete, schied er von ihnen. [Apostelgeschichte 1:9]Und ward aufgehoben zusehends und fuhr auf gen Himmel, eine Wolke nahm ihn weg vor ihren Augen, [Markus 16:19]und er sitzet zur rechten Hand Gottes. [Apostelgeschichte 1:10]Und da sie ihm nachsahen gen Himmel fahren, siehe, da stunden bei ihnen zwei Männer in weißen Kleidern, [11]welche auch sagten: Ihr Männer von Galiläa, was stehet ihr und sehet gen Himmel? Dieser Jesus, welcher von euch ist aufgenommen gen Himmel, wird kommen, wie ihr ihn gesehen habt gen Himmel fahren. [Lukas 24:52]Sie aber beteten ihn an, [Apostelgeschichte 1:12]wandten um gen Jerusalem von dem Berge, der da heißet der Ölberg, welcher ist nahe bei Jerusalem und liegt einen Sabbater-Weg davon, [Lukas 24:52]und sie kehreten wieder gen Jerusalem mit großer Freude.
  
  [Luke 24:51]The Lord Jesus lifted his hands and blessed his disciples, and it happened, that as he blessed them, he departed from them. [Acts 1:9]And was lifted as they were looking and traveled up to heaven; a cloud took him away before their eyes, [Mark 16:19]and he sits at the right hand of God. [Acts 1:10]And as they watched him travel to heaven, behold, there stood two men beside them in white clothing, [11]who also said: You men of Galilee, why do you stand and look toward heaven? This Jesus, who was taken from you to heaven, will come, as you have seen him travel to heaven. [Luke 24:52]They however prayed to him, [Acts 1:12]and returned to Jerusalem from the mountain called the Mount of Olives, which is near Jerusalem and lies a sabbath-day journey away, [Luke 24:52]and they returned to Jerusalem with great joy.

  
  Nevertheless, this text has long posed a riddle for Bach scholarship because although all its components are found in the New Testament, it was not clear who might have assembled and altered the sections from Luke 24, Mark 16, and Acts 1 in different ways. We are indebted to the Leipzig theologian Martin Petzoldt for pointing out the so-called Evangelien-Harmonie (Harmony of the Gospels) of Johann Bugenhagen, a contemporary and colleague of Martin Luther. In Bach’s day these Evangelien-Harmonie were to be found in nearly every hymnal, although reduced in most cases to the Passion story and without the section on the Ascension of Christ. Furthermore, the version set to music by Bach has several minor abbreviations and rearrangements compared to Bugenhagen’s version, as well as reformulations, mostly in agreement with the original Gospel text.
  
  There are two chorales in Bach’s Ascension Oratorio: in the middle of the work, following the Evangelist’s text “eine Wolke nahm ihn weg vor ihren Augen, und er sitzet zur rechten Hand Gottes” (a cloud took him away before their eyes, and he sits at the right hand of God), the fourth strophe from Johann Rist’s 1641 hymn Du Lebens-Fürst, Herr Jesu Christ (You prince of life, Lord Jesus Christ):

  Nun lieget alles unter dir,
  Dich selbst nur ausgenommen.
  
  Now all lies beneath you,
  You yourself alone excepted.

  
  The entire work concludes with the seventh strophe from Gottfried Wilhelm Sacer’s 1697 hymn Gott fähret auf gen Himmel (God goes up to heaven), whose text begins:

  Wenn soll es doch geschehen,
  Wenn kömmt die liebe Zeit,
  Daß ich ihn werde sehen
  In seiner Herrlichkeit? 
  
  When shall it come about,
  When might the dear time come,
  When I will see him
  In his glory?

  
  Regarding free poetry, the Ascension Oratorio contains two each of recitatives and arias, as well as the opening chorus. The chorus consists of six verses, of which the first three seem superior to the others linguistically and in content:

  Lobet Gott in seinen Reichen,
  Preiset ihn in seinen Ehren,
  Rühmet ihn in seiner Pracht.
  
  Laud God in his kingdoms,
  Praise him in his honors,
  Extol him in his splendor.

  
  Then the continuation:

  Sucht sein Lob recht zu vergleichen,
  Wenn ihr mit gesamten Chören
  Ihm ein Lied zu Ehren macht!
  
  Seek to justly compare his praise
  When you, with entire choirs,
  Make a hymn to honor him!

  
  Next to the powerful sequence “laud,” “praise,” “extol,” the effects of “comparing” praise and the “making” of a hymn seem unnatural and weakened.
  
  The explanation for this is found in the background of Bach’s composition. Shortly after 1900 the French Bach specialist André Pirro pointed to a text that could fit perfectly beneath the music of the opening movement of the Ascension Oratorio. The verses are by Johann Heinrich Winckler, at the time a teacher at the St. Thomas School and later a professor at the University of Leipzig, where he encountered the young student Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. The occasion for Winckler’s poetic activity was the consecration of the renovated St. Thomas School in 1732. The festival music for the occasion consisted of a two-part cantata libretto by Winckler; Johann Sebastian Bach was expressly named as the work’s composer.³ The song of praise for the school, the authorities, the aristocracy, and the creator of all things begins with these lines:

  Froher Tag, verlangte Stunden,
  Nun hat unsre Lust gefunden,
  Was sie fest und ruhig macht.
  Hier steht unser Schulgebäude,
  Hier erblicket Aug und Freude
  Kunst und Ordnung, Zier und Pracht.
  
  Happy day, hoped-for hours,
  Now our delight has discovered
  What will make it secure and serene.
  Here stands our school building,
  Here beholds eye and pleasure,
  Art and order, ornament and splendor.

  
  A year later, Bach incorporated this movement along with all the recitatives and arias into a congratulatory cantata for the name day of the Saxon prince elector.⁴ Two years later and with a third text, the opening chorus found its way into the Ascension Oratorio.
  
  Only relatively recently has Bach scholarship addressed the question of whether other movements in this work, in particular the two arias, might have older origins. In 1950 the Berlin theologian and supreme Bach expert Friedrich Smend successfully demonstrated that Johann Christoph Gottsched’s text for the “Serenade auf des Herrn geheimen Kriegsraths von Hohenthal Vermählung in Leipzig, 1725” (Serenade for the wedding of Lord Privy Councillor of War von Hohenthal in Leipzig, 1725) must have been composed by Bach and that, ten years later, two of its arias were incorporated in the Ascension Oratorio.⁵
  
  Lord Privy Councillor of War von Hohenthal was the Leipzig merchantlord Peter Hohmann the Younger, later ennobled, who in November 1725 married Christiana Sybilla Mencke, daughter of University of Leipzig professor Johann Burkhard Mencke. Gottsched, then twenty-five years old, lived in the Menckes’ house; Menke fostered the young scholar in many ways. The text for Gottsched’s serenade is a conversation between the personifications of Nature, Virtue, and Modesty. Nature’s aria, “Entfernet euch, ihr kalten Herzen, entfernet euch, ich bin euch feind” (Remove yourselves, you frigid hearts, remove yourselves, I am your foe) became, in the Ascension Oratorio, “Ach bleibe doch, mein liebstes Leben, ach fliehe nicht so bald von mir” (Ah, but stay, my dearest life, ah, do not flee so soon from me). The aria for Modesty, “Unschuld, Kleinod reiner Seelen, schmücke mich durch deine Pracht” (Innocence, jewel of pure souls, adorn me with your splendor) was refashioned to become “Jesu, deine Gnadenblicke, kann ich doch beständig sehn” ( Jesus, your glances of grace I can indeed see constantly).
  
  Like its sister work for Christmas, the Ascension Oratorio combines original movements along with those that have been adopted or revised. Joy, pride, and confidence characterize the cheerfully concerted opening chorus with its undemanding choral component, catchy fanfare motives and scales,and, in particular, the bouncing Lombard syncopations. Following a brief evangelist narrative, a recitative for bass sensitively laments the departure of Jesus. With the motivic unity of the accompanying flutes and the vocal motifs that anticipate the following aria, it recalls the compositional methods of the St. Matthew Passion. The farewell aria, “Ach bleibe doch, mein liebstes Leben,” for alto and the sonorous accompanying unison violins, goes back to a wedding serenade, in which its cutting dissonances must have sounded exceptional. In 1749 Bach incorporated a shorter version, revised in crucial ways, into the closing portion of his Mass in B Minor BWV 232 as the Agnus Dei. A brief evangelist’s recitative and a simple four-part chorale close the first part of the oratorio.
  
  The second part begins with the account of the appearance of the “two men in white clothing” and their announcement. The announcement itself is sung in two-part counterpoint, a strict canon at the fifth that symbolizes integrity of the statement, on the one hand, and its unassailability, on the other. The second aria, set for soprano, flutes, one oboe, and strings, omits the normally obligatory bass foundation in what is known as “bassetto effect,” a procedure that for Bach is almost always meant symbolically. It can mean very different things: innocence, purity, clarity, incomprehensibility; however, it may simply be a feature of a serenade movement. In the wedding cantata, the luminosity of the upper voices symbolized innocent purity; in the oratorio, the effect has more of the quality of hovering, of being heaven-directed, as it were. For the concluding chorale, Bach unites the chorus and the entire festival orchestra. In doing so, the composer embedded a chorale in B minor into an orchestral movement in D major—a feat he had managed with great success in the last movement of the sixth cantata of his Christmas Oratorio.
  
   

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. Peter Wollny has identified the copyist previously known as Anonymous Vj, scribe of the continuo part in BWV 11, as Johann Wilhelm Machts, who arrived as a student at St. Thomas School only two weeks before Ascension 1735. This identification, together with a detailed analysis of the score, led Wollny to conclude that the first performance more likely took place on May 15, Ascension 1738. See Wollny (2016, 83–89).—Trans.↵
  2. J. W. Machts, the scribe mentioned in note 1, also participated in preparing the sources for the Easter Oratorio BWV 249.4; Wollny (2016, 91) proposes April 6, 1738, as the date of its first performance.—Trans.↵
  3. Froher Tag, verlangte Stunden BWV 1162.↵
  4. Frohes Volk, vergnügte Sachsen BWV 1158. ↵
  5. Smend (1950).↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:32:57+00:00 Schwingt freudig euch empor BWV 36.4/5 / BC A 3a/b 11 First Sunday of Advent. First performed 12/02/1731 at Leipzig. Text by CF Henrici (Picander). plain 2024-04-24T14:53:56+00:00 1731-12-02 BWV 36.4/5 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 11Advent First Sunday of Advent BC A 3ab Johann Sebastian Bach CF Henrici (Picander) Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Schwingt freudig euch empor, BWV 36.4/5 / BC A 3ab" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 18 James A. Brokaw II Leipzig

  First Sunday of Advent

  In a truly unparalleled fashion, the Advent cantata Schwingt freudig euch empor BWV 36.4/5 (Soar joyously aloft) illustrates J. S. Bach’s management of his creative work as a composer over his lifetime, as well as the intertwining of the sacred and secular in his vocal works. A secular cantata of the same name (BWV 36.1) is the starting point in a series of at least five related works; it was composed in early 1725 for Leipzig students to honor a university teacher who unfortunately remains unknown. In November of the same or the following year, the cantata was reperformed (BWV 36.2) outside Leipzig to honor Princess Charlotte Frederike Wilhelmine, the second wife of Bach’s earlier patron, Leopold of Anhalt-Köthen. The opening and closing ensembles remained essentially unchanged but with new text, as did the three arias. Newly composed, on the other hand, were four recitatives, as well as the recitative interpolations in the final movement.
  
  A bit later, Bach fashioned an Advent cantata (BWV 36.4) from the opening movement and the arias by making some changes to the text. All the recitatives were dropped from the new work, and the composer omitted the closing movement entirely because of its all-too-pronounced dance character. The capstone was now formed instead by a setting of Philipp Nicolai’s chorale Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern (How brightly gleams the morning star) using the seventh stanza of the chorale, “Wie bin ich doch so herzlich froh” (How am I indeed so sincerely happy). In 1731 the cantata was copied out in this form by Christoph Nichelmann, then fourteen years old, preserving it for future generations. Nichelmann, later a musician at the court of Frederick the Great, was a student at St. Thomas School at the time. A few musical and textual errors can probably be ascribed to the inexperience of the young copyist. It is also conceivable, too, that this early Advent version was not prepared by Bach himself but merely assembled at his direction, perhaps by someone else substituting for him.
  
  The original secular version was by no means sidelined by its transformation into a church cantata, a process completed by 1730 at the latest. On the contrary: it was apparently performed a second time early in the 1730s, to honor the St. Thomas School rector, Johann Matthias Gesner, possibly at his fortieth birthday celebration in April 1731. Toward the end of the same year, Bach created an expanded, final version of the Advent cantata (BWV 36.5), now with eight movements as opposed to five in the first version. Nor did this new Advent version result in the original secular version being shelved. The cantor of St. Thomas dedicated it, with text once again reworked and newly composed recitatives (BWV 36.3), to a member of the Rivinus family of scholars in Leipzig in the summer of 1735.¹ The honoree was possibly the law professor and university rector Johann Florens Rivinus, whom we find in September of the same year among the godparents of Bach’s youngest son, Johann Christian. In total, the two Advent versions of the cantata stand next to three secular works, as well as a reperformance. Thus it becomes clear that Bach regarded not only his sacred works but also significant portions of his secular oeuvre to be essential components of his repertoire and managed them accordingly.
  
  Bach’s handling of these various cantata versions and their continuing presence in his repertoire are reflected in a remarkable way by the interweaving of the gradually accumulated text versions. The unknown author of the libretto for the Advent cantata (BWV 36.4) clearly was able to draw not only on the secular first version of the work (BWV 36.1) but also on the second text by Christian Friedrich Henrici for the birthday of the Köthen princess (BWV 36.2). Only in the opening chorus did he restrict himself to the oldest version of the cantata. The poetically effusive text reads:

  Schwingt freudig euch empor und dringt bis an die Sternen, 
  Ihr Wünsche, bis euch Gott vor seinem Throne sieht!
  Doch, haltet ein! ein Herz darf sich nicht weit entfernen, 
  Das Dankbarkeit und Pflicht zu seinem Lehrer zieht.
  
  Soar joyfully aloft and press onward to the stars,    
  You wishes, till God sees you before his throne!
  But stop! A heart need not travel far
  That to its teacher’s drawn by gratitude and duty.

  
  The Advent text is unmistakably drawn from this:

  Schwingt freudig euch empor zu den erhabnen Sternen, 
  Ihr Zungen, die Ihr itzt in Zion fröhlich seid!
  Doch, haltet ein! Der Schall darf sich nicht weit entfernen, 
  Es naht sich selbst zu euch der Herr der Herrlichkeit!
  
  Soar joyfully aloft unto the exalted stars, 
  You tongues who are now so joyful in Zion! 
  But stop! The sound need not travel far;
  He himself draws near to you, the Lord of Glory!

  
  The situation is different in the first aria. The congratulatory cantata praises the love and reverence inspired by the teacher yet also raises a warning index finger:

  Die Liebe führt mit sanften Schritten 
  Ein Herz das seinen Lehrer liebt.
  Wo andre auszuschweifen pflegen, 
  Wird dies behutsam sich bewegen, 
  Weil ihm die Ehrfurcht Grenzen gibt.
  
  Love leads with gentle steps 
  A heart that loves its teacher.
  While others mean to go astray, 
  This one will move with caution, 
  For reverence sets boundaries for it.

  
  The version meant for Köthen replaces this with a comparison with the solstice:

  Die Sonne zieht mit sanftem Triebe 
  Die Sonnenwende zu sich hin.
  So, große Fürstin, deinen Blicken, 
  Die unser ganzes Wohl beglücken, 
  Folgt unser stets getreuer Sinn.
  
  The sun draws with gentle desires 
  The solstice to its full extent.
  Just as, great Princess, your glances,
  Which favor our whole well-being,
  Are followed by our ever-loyal mind.

  
  Finally, the Advent cantata uses imagery and comparisons from both of the secular forms.

  Die Liebe zieht mit sanften Schritten 
  Sein Treugeliebtes allgemach.
  Gleichwie es eine Braut entzücket, 
  Wenn sie den Bräutigam erblicket, 
  So folgt ein Herz auch Jesu nach.
  
  Love draws with gentle steps 
  Its true beloved gradually, 
  Just as it entrances a bride
  When she catches sight of the bridegroom, 
  So a heart follows Jesus.

  
  The second aria, whose text begins with “Willkommen, werter Schatz” (Welcome, worthy treasure), also cannot hide its ancestry in two secular cantata texts, if, in this case, it is less the vocabulary than the syntax that provides evidence for the reworking procedure. The approach is even easier to understand in the third aria, with its play with contrasts between the internal and external. Here is the first version:

  Auch mit gedämpften, schwachen Stimmen 
  Verkündigt man dem Lehrer preis.
  Es schallet kräftig in der Brust,
  Ob man gleich die empfundne Lust 
  Nicht völlig auszudrücken weiß.
  
  Also with muted, weak voices
  One proclaims the teacher’s praise.
  It sounds with power within the breast, 
  If one can’t immediately express
  The passion felt within.

  
  Henrici/Picander provided the aria with the following verses (which are not readily understandable):

  Auch mit gedämpften, schwachen Stimmen 
  Wird, Fürstin, dieses Fest verehrt.
  Denn schallet nur der Geist darbei, 
  So heißet solches ein Geschrei, 
  Das man im Himmel selber hört.
  
  Also with muted, weak voices,    
  Princess, this fete is honored.    
  For if the spirit only resounds with it, 
  As such a din may be called,
  That one hears it in heaven itself.

  
  The author of the Advent cantata text appears to have favored this peculiar version of the text over the poetically clear reading of the first version. And so he contented himself with a minor adjustment and with the exchange of the most important vocabulary:

  Auch mit gedämpften, schwachen Stimmen 
  Wird Gottes majestät verehrt.
  Denn schallet nur der Geist darbei, 
  So ist ihm solches ein Geschrei, 
  Das er im Himmel selber hört.
  
  Also with muted, weak voices 
  God’s majesty is honored.
  For if the spirit only resounds with it 
  It becomes such a din to him
  That he hears it in heaven itself.

  
  Whether these verses improve upon the clarity of those by Christian Friedrich Henrici (Picander) remains an open question.
  
  To a certain extent, the problems described in the poetic parts are mitigated by the enrichment of the cantata libretto by chorale strophes. Martin Luther’s German version of the ancient church hymn Veni redemptor gentium, the Advent chorale Nun komm der Heiden Heiland (Now come, the Gentiles’ savior) of 1524, is represented with three verses; in addition, there is the sixth strophe of Philipp Nicolai’s Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern of 1599.

  The cantata libretto takes on a rather old-fashioned appearance with its restriction to chorale strophes and arias and its total lack of recitatives. The musical image, however, is quite heterogeneous due to the secular origins of the opening chorus and all three arias. The opening movement combines a delicate instrumental texture with the lively interplay of chordal and polyphonic choral sections, in which the oboe d’amore dominates and the strings must remain subdued. The chamber music character of the original secular version matched this completely; a performance in church would have encountered several problems with the balance of sonorities. The Thomaskantor took this into account by doubling the oboe d’amore—as opposed to his original intent. In the second movement a change to the serious realm of strict vocal polyphony follows directly, as the Advent hymn Nun komm der Heiden Heiland is heard in various canonic constructions in dense three-part counterpoint. In just as immediate a fashion, the tenor aria takes the listener back to the previous milieu. Voice and oboe compete with one another, carried along by the gentle dance rhythms of the passepied. The first part of the cantata closes with a simple four-part chorale.

  The second half of the cantata, to be performed after the sermon, opens with a powerful, buoyant bass aria whose bright and festive character is created by the strings, led by the joyfully animated concerted first violin. Once more, in sharp contrast to the preceding, there follows a choral arrangement of Nun komm der Heiden Heiland, this time as a quartet in which the two oboi d’amore and basso continuo perform the imitative contrapuntal accompaniment, while the tenor presents the ancient melody in large note values. In a gently glowing atmosphere, soprano and solo violin then lead a sonorous interplay between lovely melody and instrumental figuration, which, in the aria’s central section, dissolves into teasing echo effects. At last, the ancient Nun komm der Heiden Heiland is heard for a third time, now in simple four-part texture and devoid of any ambitions to an elaborate arrangement of the chorale.

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  Footnotes

  1. The copyist of the second violin and viola parts was recently identified as Johann Wilhelm Machts, who entered St. Thomas School on May 31, 1735, at age eleven; his role as copyist is unlikely to have begun before 1737–38. See Wollny (2016, 83–91).—Trans.↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:36:44+00:00 Kommt, eilet und laufet, ihr flüchtigen Füße BWV 249 / BC D 8 10 Easter. First performed 04/06/1738 at Leipzig. Text by CF Henrici (Picander)?. plain 2024-04-24T14:42:39+00:00 1738-04-06 BWV 249 Leipzig 20Easter Easter BC D 8 Johann Sebastian Bach CF Henrici (Picander)? Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Kommt, eilet und laufet, ihr flüchtigen Füße, BWV 249 / BC D 8" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 651 James A. Brokaw II Leipzig

  Easter Sunday, April 6, 1738

  Compared to its well-known sibling work, the Christmas Oratorio (BWV 248.2), the Easter Oratorio BWV 249.4/5 is clearly less popular with the public. The reasons for this certainly do not lie with the music and its quality. With its catchy freshness of invention, it lacks nothing in comparison to its younger but much better known sibling. The text, however, poses problems, if only at first glance. It certainly found no favor with the classic Bach biographer of the nineteenth century, Philipp Spitta: “It cannot but surprise us to find that Bach could have been satisfied with such a text,” reads the summary from his rather unsympathetic overview:

  The text, of which the author is unknown . . . begins with a duet between John and Peter, who are informed of Christ’s resurrection by the women, and who run joyfully to the sepulcher to convince themselves ( John 20, 3 and 4). There Mary the mother of James, and Salome, reproach them with not having also purposed to anoint the body of the Lord and thus testifying their love for Him. The men excuse themselves, saying that their anointing has been “with briny tears, and deep despair and longing.” Then the women explain that these, happily, are no longer needed, since the Lord is risen. They gaze into the empty tomb; John asks where the Saviour can be, to which Mary Magdalene replies what the men have long known: “He now has risen from the dead. / To us an angel did appear, / Who told us, lo He is not here.” Peter directs his attention to the “linen cloth,” and this leads him to recall the tears he had shed over his denial of Jesus, a very tasteless episode. The women next express their longing to see Jesus once more; John rejoices that the Lord lives again, and the end is a chorus: “Thanks and praise / be to Thee for ever, Lord! / Satan’s legions now are bound, / his dominion now hath ceased, / let the highest heaven resound / with your songs, ye souls released. / Fly open, ye gates! / Open radiant and glorious! / The Lion of Judah comes riding victorious.”¹

  
  Spitta and others were prevented from issuing a more just assessment of the Easter Oratorio by what they could not know, namely, its origin as a secular cantata, a Tafelmusik (banquet music) of 1725 for Duke Christian of Saxe-Weissenfels. This was discovered in about 1940, when Friedrich Smend came across evidence of a relationship between the Easter music and a lost “shepherds’ colloquy” (Schäfergespräch) by Christian Friedrich Henrici. Even so, at first the knowledge of the Easter Oratorio’s secular parentage was hardly useful. The persistent prejudice against anything resulting from what is called “parody procedure”—supplying existing music with a new text— simply opened the libretto to further criticism. It was seen as reflecting a profoundly meaningful event for the church, but without Gospel narratives or chorale strophes, and thus it was reduced to an intermediate text prepared with nonchalance and without sympathy in order to make good use of an elaborate composition that would otherwise have lain idle.
  
  More recently, theological studies have highlighted how the new text, focused on the feast of the Resurrection, draws upon the centuries-old tradition of Easter plays in many ways and perhaps in all of its aspects.² In doing so, it consciously avoids any attempt at a dramatic fiction: neither angels nor the Risen One are included in the action. Even so, the play is at once a dramatic realization and a proclamation of praise. Thus the first vocal movement takes up the race between Peter and John to the grave of Jesus from the book of John; but with its text beginning “Kommt eilet und laufet” (Come, make haste and run) it also functions as an appeal to meditatio, comparable to the opening of the St. Matthew Passion’s opening chorus, “Kommt, ihr Töchter hilft mir klagen” (Come, you daughters, help me lament). The tone of the “mysticism of the bride,” going back to the Song of Songs, is hard to ignore in the recitatives (the first, in particular), as well as in Maria Jacobi’s aria “Seele, deine Spezereien” (Soul, your spices [shall no longer be myrrh]). The connection to medieval traditions is particularly strong in Peter’s aria and its associated recitative, whose meditations include Jesus’s cast-off grave clothes and mention his shroud in particular. The linkage of the stories of the disciples at the grave of Jesus and the awakening of Lazarus in John 11 and 20, respectively, follow ancient tradition. The account of Lazarus was understood as an anticipation of the Resurrection of Jesus and the reawakening of the dead and thus symbolizes the hope for a resurrection to eternal life. In this sense, the cast-off grave clothes in Peter’s aria become recognized as a sign of the Resurrection of the Lord and convey the certainty that one’s own death will be but a sleep.
  
  On the whole, the unidentified librettist deserves every recognition for his work to appropriately transform the arias and ensembles of the secular original into the subject matter of Easter with verbal skill and fealty to content.
  
  In 1725 Bach’s efforts were confined to the composition of recitatives and the arrangement of the voices in the arias and ensemble movements. At first probably designated as a cantata for Easter (BWV 249.3), the work was reperformed in 1738 (BWV 249.4) with minor alterations but with the title Oratorio.³ Whether the role designations Maria Jacobi, Maria Magdalena, Petrus, and Johannes were still used at this time cannot be known for certain, but they were certainly omitted in the final performances in 1745 and April 1749 (BWV 249.5).
  
  Significantly, in this late version the original duet for Peter and John was refashioned as a four-part chorus, so that the motif of the disciples’ race recedes even further behind the invitation to contemplation.
  
  Otherwise, there was little change to the core musical substance, which goes back to the Weissenfels Tafelmusik of 1725. The work begins with two instrumental movements: a cheerful concertante Allegro that exploits timbral contrasts between instrumental groups (trumpets and drums, oboes with bassoon, and string instruments), as well as a mournful Adagio with an expressive solo for oboe (flute in a later version). Both movements may go back to an earlier instrumental concerto. This is perhaps also true of the first vocal movement, which seems to have an unusually robust instrumental accompaniment for a duet. The later transformation to a four-part chorus mitigates this discrepancy somewhat. In the soprano aria, voice and flute compete in a vivid representation of love for Jesus. Peter’s slumber aria unfolds in beguiling coloration, with layered timbres of string instruments and recorders in octaves, radiating a heavenly serenity. The alto aria is situated between energetic focus and sensitive encouragement. The work concludes with an ensemble that, by combining a solemn, hovering opening with a brisk fugal ending, follows the model of the Sanctus of 1724 (232.1), later incorporated in the Mass in B Minor (BWV 232.4).
   

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. Spitta (1899, 2:591).—Trans.↵
  2. Steiger and Steiger (1983).↵
  3. Peter Wollny has identified a copyist previously known as Anonymous Vj, who participated in preparing the sources for the Easter Oratorio BWV 249.4, as Johann Wilhelm Machts; Wollny (2016, 91) proposes April 6, 1738, as the date of its first performance.—Trans.↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:34:18+00:00 Es ist das Heil uns kommen her BWV 9 / BC A 107 9 Chorale cantata per omnes versus on hymn by P Speratus. Sixth Sunday After Trinity. First performed 07/01/1734 at Leipzig. plain 2024-04-24T14:34:25+00:00 1734-07-01 BWV 9 Leipzig 51.340199, 12.360103 05Trinity06 Chorale Cantata per omnes versus Sixth Sunday After Trinity BC A 107 Johann Sebastian Bach P Speratus Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Es ist das Heil uns kommen her, BWV 9 / BC A 107" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 331 James A. Brokaw II Chorale Cantata Annual Cycle Leipzig

  Sixth Sunday after Trinity, August 1, 1734

  Although this cantata belongs to Johann Sebastian Bach’s chorale cantata annual cycle, he did not compose it during his second year in office, between the summer of 1724 to early 1725, but considerably later. The reason for this is not difficult to find: in the middle of July 1724, along with his wife, Anna Magdalena, the cantor of St. Thomas School was in Köthen, his previous post. The composition of a cantata for the sixth Sunday after Trinity stood in the way of planning for and carrying out this tour, and so a substitute for Bach, probably the organist at the New Church, Georg Balthasar Schott, would have brought in a different work for the main worship service on that day, perhaps a cantata by Georg Philipp Telemann. In July 1732 Bach filled the gap in the structure of the cantata cycle.¹ He performed the cantata again only three years later, in 1735; we owe that knowledge to a remarkable circumstance. In the early 1970s several houses were being torn down in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City. A worker was busy loading the rubble to be hauled away when a passerby noticed a scarcely damaged picture frame and asked whether he might have it. He could have the entire pile of rubble if he wanted it, came the answer. Afterward it turned out that the picture frame contained a music manuscript, an original duplicate flute part for Bach’s cantata Es ist das Heil uns kommen her BWV 9 (Salvation has come to us), missing for decades and long ago given up for lost. Features of the handwriting date the manuscript to 1735.² It remains in the possession of the happy discoverer.³ There is evidence for yet another performance in Leipzig in Bach’s last decade. In 1750 the score became part of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach’s inheritance; he performed the cantata at least once during his tenure as music director at Halle.
  
  As is usually the case in Bach’s chorale cantatas, the work’s text and music are based on a single chorale. In the case of Es ist das Heil uns kommen her, it is the chorale of the same name by Paul Speratus. Three of its twelve strophes were not included; the others were either adopted without change or reshaped more or less freely to become recitatives and arias. As in most cases, the opening strophe remained untouched: 

  Es ist das Heil uns kommen her,
  Von Gnad und lauter Güte.
  Die Werk, die helfen nimmermehr,
  Sie mögen nicht behüten.
  Der Glaub sieht Jesum Christum an,
  Der hat g’nug für uns all getan,
  Er ist der Mittler worden.
  
  Salvation has come to us
  From grace and pure goodness.
  Good works help us not at all,
  They cannot protect us.
  Faith looks to Jesus Christ,
  Who has done enough for us all.
  He has become the mediator.

  
  In the freely versified movements that follow, the law is the topic at issue in many cases. On the one hand, this has to do with the chorale text by Speratus, which appears in hymnaries of the period beneath the rubric “Von der Rechtfertigung und Absolution” (Of justification and absolution), and, on the other hand, with the Gospel reading for the Sunday, which contrasts the fulfillment of the law by the Christians with that of the Pharisees.
  
  The fall of man and the law of the Old Covenant are the topics of the first recitative-aria pair in our cantata. The extensive text of the recitative is drawn from strophes 2 through 4 of the chorale. Its beginning reads:

  Gott gab uns ein Gesetz, doch waren wir zu schwach,
  Daß wir es hätten halten können,
  Wir gingen nur den Sünden nach.
  
  God gave us a law, yet we were too weak
  To have been able to keep it.
  We went only in pursuit of sin.

  
  It concludes with resignation:

  Aus eigner Kraft war niemand fähig
  Der Sünden Unart zu verlassen,
  Er möcht auch alle Kraft zusammenfassen.
  
  From their own strength no one was able
  To leave the rudeness of sin,
  Though he might summon all his strength.

  
  In the ensuing aria, this penetrating depiction of the hopeless situation is pushed to the limit, whereby the connection to Speratus’s chorale source text is no longer recognizable:

  Wir waren schon zu tief gesunken,
  Der Abgrund schluckt uns völlig ein,
  Die Tiefe drohte schon den Tod,
  Und dennoch konnt in solcher Not
  Uns keine Hand behilflich sein.
  
  We were already sunk too deep.
  The abyss swallowed us entirely.
  Its depths threatened even death.
  And therefore could, in such need,
  No hand be of help to us.

  
  In accordance with the course of the chorale, the next movement pair, again a recitative and aria, speaks of salvation through the sacrificial death of Christ. The first of the chorale strophes drawn upon for this purpose—the fifth in the hymn itself—reads as follows:

  Noch mußt das G’setz erfüllet sein,
  Sonst wärn wir all verdorben,
  Darum schickt Gott sein’n Sohn herein,
  Der selber Mensch ist worden;
  Das ganz Gesetz hat er erfüllt,
  Damit seins Vaters Zorn gestillt,
  Der über uns ging alle.
  
  Yet the law had to be fulfilled,
  Else were we all ruined.
  Therefore, God sent his son to us,
  Who himself became human;
  The entire law he has fulfilled,
  Thereby his father’s rage quieted
  That hung over us all.

  
  As a recitative, it becomes:

  Doch mußte das Gesetz erfüllet werden;
  Deswegen kam das Heil der Erden,
  Des Höchsten Sohn, der hat es selbst erfüllt
  Und seines Vaters Zorn gestillt.
  Durch sein unschuldig Sterben
  Ließ er uns Hülf erwerben.
  
  Yet the law had to be fulfilled,
  Therefore, came the salvation of the earth,
  The son of the Most High, who has fulfilled it himself
  And quieted his father’s rage.
  Through his innocent dying
  He has purchased salvation for us.

  
  On the other hand, the associated aria text is substantially more freely formed, although unlike the first aria it does not completely avoid borrowing from the chorale:

  Herr, du siehst statt guter Werke
  Auf des Herzens Glaubensstärke,
  Nur den Glauben nimmst du an.
  Nur der Glaube macht gerecht,
  Alles andre scheint zu schlecht,
  Als daß es uns helfen kann.
  
  Lord, you look, rather than to good works,
  To the heart’s strength of faith.
  Only faith do you accept,
  Only faith justifies,
  Everything else shines too weakly
  To be able to help us. 

  
  The penultimate cantata movement, once again a recitative, hews more closely to Speratus’s source text; its ninth strophe begins with the verses:

  Es wird die Sünd durchs G’setz erkannt
  Und schlägt das G’wissen nieder;
  Das Evangelium kömmt zur Hand
  Und stärkt den Sünder wieder.
  
  Sin is recognized through the law
  And strikes our conscience down;
  The Gospel comes to our aid
  And strengthens the sinner again.

  
  From this, the cantata poet derived the following:

  Wenn wir die Sünd aus dem Gesetz erkennen,
  So schlägt es das Gewissen nieder;
  Doch ist das unser Trost zu nennen,
  Das wir im Evangelio
  Gleich wieder froh
  Und freudig werden:
  Dies stärket unser Glauben wieder.
  
  When, from the law, we know sin,
  Then it strikes our conscience down;
  Yet that is to be called our consolation,
  That we, in the Gospel,
  Immediately become glad
  And joyful again:
  This strengthens our faith again.

  
  The closing strophe of the chorale, unchanged, serves as the cantata’s conclusion:

  Ob sichs abließ, als wollt er nicht,
  Laß dich es nicht erschrecken;
  Denn wo er ist am besten mit,
  Da will er’s nicht entdecken.
  Sein Wort laß dir gewisser sein,
  Und ob dein Herz spräch lauter Nein,
  So laß doch dir nicht grauen.
  
  If it seemed as if he was not willing,
  Do not let it alarm you;
  For where he is most present,
  There he will not reveal it.
  Let his word be more certain to you,
  And though your heart should say loudly no,
  Do not let yourself shudder.

  
  One is immediately impressed by the high artistic aims evident in Bach’s composition of this source text. In view of the opening movement and its expected dominant role, it bears mentioning that in the years between his premature cessation of work on the chorale cantata cycle and his composition of this cantata, Bach had already composed a chorale cantata on this same melody (BWV 117), however, using the text Sei Lob und Ehr dem höchsten Gut (May there be praise and honor for the highest good). He thus needed to avoid relying on what was already on hand or even outright repetition. The result of these efforts is an overwhelming complexity of compositional method in the first movement of Es ist das Heil uns kommen her, together with a filigree that seems to honor that principle of the visual arts, “drawing is omission” (Zeichnen ist Weglassen). This pertains in particular to the instrumental part, which, as is common in the chorale cantatas, has the task of unifying the movement and making it cohere in the face of the chorale melody changing line by line and the counterpoint in the other voices subordinated to it.
  
  The fundamental element here is a trio texture that includes the transverse flute, oboe d’amore, and basso continuo. This trio, present throughout the first movement and with an unending wealth of combinations and variations, enters into a relationship of productive tension with the ensemble of string instruments. The strings are handled in a quasi-concertante fashion, sometimes providing harmonic support, sometimes tracing the lines of the woodwinds, sometimes inserting counterthematic material and thereby enlivening the movement’s course and enriching more than one dimension. The duplicate flute part, rediscovered in New York City as described earlier, bears witness to how much importance Bach attached to timbral balance in this delicate structure.⁴ When the work was first reperformed, the duplicate allowed the flute part to be doubled, thus ensuring in all cases the sonic prominence this important part deserves.
  
  The first aria, “Wir waren schon zu tief gesunken,” shows the cantor of St. Thomas in conflict between his own compositional ambitions and his consideration of what was achievable in terms of performance technique. He envisioned an obbligato instrumental part that, with its fluid and fleeting passages in 12
  16 meter and jagged syncopations, symbolizes an unrestrained staggering on the edge of the abyss. On the other hand, it could not be too difficult both to preserve its intended forcefulness and to hold its own against the voice and the basso continuo. Thus Bach writes “Violini unisoni” in his composing score but corrects it to “Violino solo” probably in consideration of the limited abilities of his musicians. Ultimately, it must have gone better than feared, for the obbligato part is found in both first violin parts, in accordance with the composer’s original intent.
  
  In contrast to the instability depicted here, the second aria movement is focused on representing strength of faith. This steadfast world, at peace with itself, is represented by a quintet texture of soprano, alto, the two woodwinds, and basso continuo, whereby imitation and canonic constructions underscore the gravity of what is intended and clarify the immutability of what is said. From the bright A major of this duet it is but a small step to the brilliant E major of the closing chorale, forging a connection to the key and character of the opening movement.

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. On the basis of watermark evidence and handwriting analysis, Peter Wollny established that BWV 9 was performed on August 1, 1734, the sixth Sunday after Trinity. See Wollny (2016, 67–73).—Trans.↵
  2. However, it is now clear that Bach presented an annual cycle of cantatas by Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel between the first Sunday after Trinity 1735 and Trinity 1736. Wollny therefore associates the duplicate flute part with a reperformance of BWV 9 on July 8, 1736. Please see the addendum to Schulze’s essay on BWV 200 in this digital edition.—Trans.↵
  3. Herz (1984, 18, 152 ff.).↵
  4. Grüß (1987).↵
• 1 2023-09-26T09:38:28+00:00 Die Freude reget sich BWV 36.3 / BC G 38 5 Congratulatory cantata cantata for Professor Johann Florens Rivinus. First performed in 1737 to 1738 in Leipzig. plain 2024-04-24T16:08:32+00:00 BWV 36.3 Congratulatory cantata BC G 38 Johann Sebastian Bach Hans-Joachim Schulze, "Die Freude reget sich, BWV 36.3 / BC G 38" in Die Bach Kantaten: Einführungen zu sämtlichen Kantaten Johann Sebastian Bachs, (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt 2007), p. 713 James A. Brokaw II 1737 to 1738 Professor Johann Florens Rivinus

  University Events, 1737–1738

  The homage cantata Die Freude reget sich BWV 36.3 (Joy bestirs itself) belongs to a complex of compositions around the Advent cantata Schwingt freudig euch empor BWV 36.4/5 (Soar joyfully aloft). These compositions offer a nearly unparalleled view of Bach’s management of his creative work as a composer over his lifetime and the intertwining of sacred and secular vocal works with one another. The point of departure for this series of at least five works is the secular cantata Schwingt freudig euch empor BWV 36.1, which originated in early 1725 at the behest of a group of students at the University of Leipzig to honor a teacher who unfortunately remains unknown. In late November 1725 or 1726 the cantata was reperformed outside Leipzig under the title Steigt freudig in die Luft BWV 36.2 (Climb joyfully in the air) for the birthday of Princess Charlotte Friederike Wilhelmine, the consort of Bach’s earlier patron Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Köthen. The opening and closing ensembles and three arias were sufficient, underlaid with new text, while the four recitatives were newly composed, along with recitative interpolations in the last movement. A bit later Bach fashioned a new Advent cantata (BWV 36.4) from the first movement and arias by means of further textual changes. All the recitatives were omitted, as was the final ensemble, because of its all-too-superficial dance character. Instead, a verse from Philipp Nicolai’s chorale Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern (How beautifully gleams the morning star) served to close the cantata.
  
  It is possible that this early Advent version is not by Bach himself but was only produced on commission by him, perhaps by a substitute to provide church music. Remarkably, this transformation, completed by 1730 at the latest, did not sideline the original secular work. On the contrary, it (BWV 36.1) was performed again in the early 1730s in honor of Johann Matthias Gesner, rector of St. Thomas School, probably to celebrate his birthday in April 1731. In late 1731 Bach created the expanded and final Advent version (BWV 36.5), now with eight movements as opposed to five in the first version. But even this did not close the door on further performances of the original secular version. With the cantata text revised once again and with newly composed recitatives, in the summer of 1735 the cantor of St. Thomas dedicated Die Freude reget sich to a member of the Rivinus family of scholars in Leipzig. The object of the homage was probably Johann Florens Rivinus, whom we find once again, in September of the same year, among the godparents for Bach’s youngest son, Johann Christian. In sum, in addition to the two Advent versions of the cantata, there are three secular forms, as well as an additional reperformance. It thus becomes clear that Bach regarded not only his sacred vocal works but also substantial portions of his secular oeuvre as repertoire—and managed them as such.
  
  Johann Florens Rivinus, alias Bachmann, the students’ presumed honoree, was born on July 27, 1681, as scion of a Leipzig academic family. On July 9, 1723, he had taken a post as professor of jurisprudence. On this occasion, several members of his circle had presented him with a “magnificent evening of music,” as it was called, whose text—appropriately enough for the name Rivinus-Bachmann—began with the words “Murmelt nur, ihr heitern Bäche” (Murmur on, you merry brooks). Admittedly, nothing is said about the fact that one of the “Bäche,” namely Johann Sebastian, the recently appointed cantor of St. Thomas School, was engaged as composer.¹The honoree advanced directly and successfully in his career, leading him to the office of rector of the university for the first time in 1729 and again in 1735. Some of his colleagues found one thing or another to criticize about him: the literary reformer Johann Christoph Gottsched did not forget that Rivinus had tarnished his name because he—Gottsched—had held his commemoration speech for the poet Martin Opitz in 1739 during church hours on a day of penance and, a year later, considered using St. Paul’s Church for a speech honoring the tercentenary of the invention of the printing press.
  
  Bach’s homage cantata could have been for Rivinus’s fifty-fourth birthday on July 27, 1735, or for the celebration of his appointment as rector in October of the same year, or for still another occasion.² The reason for the uncertainty is due to the incomplete state of the source materials, on the one hand, and the librettist’s very general language, on the other. He seems to have had only the texts of the first and possibly second versions of the secular cantata available to him for preparation of a parody text. If he did have the score of the original version, we must assume either that he didn’t know how to read it or that the relationship between text and musical declamation was a closed book to him. In any case, he worked ingeniously and fluently from his exemplar, anxiously avoiding the adoption of any expression from it or even allowing any similarity. Perhaps some things about the first version seemed overdrawn to him, and he felt prompted to put a modern, refined taste on display. The second aria in the 1725 version in honor of an unknown teacher seems a bit excessive:

  Der Tag, der dich vordem gebar,
  Stellt sich vor uns so heilsam dar
  Als jener, da der Schöpfer spricht:
  Es werde Licht!
  
  The day that once bore you
  Presents itself to us as beneficial
  As that on which the Creator said:
  Let there be light.

  
  The new, ten-years-younger version reads, as it were, “sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought”:

  Das Gute, das dein Gott beschert,
  Und was dir heute widerfährt,
  Macht dein erwünschtes Wohlergehn
  Vor uns auch schön.
  
  The good that your God bestows
  And that presents itself to you today
  Makes your desired welfare
  Splendid to us as well.

  
  The composer had no problem with the three newly minted recitatives or the recitative interpolations in the closing movement. But Bach seems to have thrown up his hands in the face of the parody texts for the opening chorus and the three arias. In any case, he made no great effort to limit the damage. And so it comes, as it must. In the opening chorus, the third and fourth lines of text originally read: “Doch haltet ein! ein Herz darf sich nicht weit entfernen, / Das Dankbarkeit und Pflicht zu seinem Lehrer zieht” (But stop! A heart need not travel far / That to its teacher’s drawn by gratitude and duty), while the new version reads: “Verfolgt den Trieb, nur fort, ihr treuen Musensöhne, / Und liefert itzt den Zoll in frommen Wünschen ein!” (Follow your urge further, you loyal sons of Muses, / And deliver your tribute now in devout wishes!). The repeated cry “Haltet ein!” interspersed with rests becomes, in the new version, “Verfolgt den Trieb,” “den Trieb,” “verfolgt,” and “nur fort, ihr treuen Musensöhne.” Scandalous text declamation like this would certainly have been kept out of the view of the likes of Johann Mattheson or Heinrich Bokemeyer; Bach would have been made a laughingstock of all Kenner and many Liebhaber for the rest of his life. 
  
  Infelicities of this sort often appear in this cantata; even so, the performance in 1735 would not have failed to have its effect overall. Despite lapses in the text and the preliminary resignation of the composer in the face of these pitfalls, the qualities of what was adopted from the 1725 version are essentially preserved in the new one.
  
  In the arias and ensemble movements, Bach evidently focused on enriching the scoring, in particular by adding a transverse flute that for the most part doubles the first violin or oboe d’amore at the unison or octave. Evidently, a solo bass was not available, and so the second recitative-aria movement pair was entrusted to an alto without requiring a change of key. And so the basic framework of the cantata remained unaltered, and with it the crucial movements.
  
  Unchanged, the opening movement adds a filigree instrumental texture to the cheerful interplay of chordal and polyphonic choral sections in which the part for oboe d’amore and flute dominates and the strings stand in the background. In the tenor aria, the voice and (presumably) obbligato oboe d’amore or solo violin compete with one another, carried along by the gentle rhythms of the passepied. The powerful, rather superficial alto aria that leads back to the home key of D major provides a certain contrast; the strings, led by the joyfully animated concertante first violin, lend it luminosity and festivity. Soprano and solo violin, supported by the flute, lead to a softly glowing region and unfold a sonorous interplay between lovely melody and figuration that is appropriate to the instruments and that dissolves in playful echo effects in the middle section. The closing gavotte, cheerful and rather folk-like, leads back to solid ground.

  ---

  Footnotes

  1. BWV3 notes that “because the performance on June 9, 1723, was immediately after Bach’s assumption of office, the hypothetical attribution to JS Bach is extremely uncertain” (BWV3, 720).—Trans.↵
  2.  Peter Wollny recently identified the copyist of the second violin and viola parts as Johann Wilhelm Machts, who entered St. Thomas School on May 31, 1735, at age eleven; his role as copyist is unlikely to have begun before 1737–38. See Wollny (2016, 83–91).—Trans.↵