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1 CD -
118 - (c) 2007
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Weltliche
Kantaten
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| Johann Sebastian
BACH (1685-1750) |
"Angenehmes
Wiederau, freue dich in deinen Auen!",
BWV 30a |
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38' 15" |
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Coro: "Angenehmes Wiederau" |
4' 35" |
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1
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- Recitativo (SATB): "So ziehen
wir"
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0' 56" |
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2
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Aria (Basso): "Willkommen im Heil,
willkommen in Freuden"
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4' 27" |
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3 |
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Recitativo: "Da heute dir, gepriesner
Hennicke"
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0' 38" |
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4
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Aria (Alto): "Was die Seele kann ergötzen"
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5' 13" |
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5
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Recitativo: "Und wie ich jederzeit
bedacht" |
0' 40" |
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6 |
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Aria (Basso): "Ich will dich halten"
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6' 38" |
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7 |
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Recitativo: "Und obwohl sonst der
Unbestand" |
0' 56" |
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8 |
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Aria (Soprano): "Eilt, ihr Stunden, wie
ihr wollt" |
4' 18" |
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9 |
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Recitativo: "So recht! ihr seid mir werte
Gäste" |
0' 49" |
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10 |
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Aria (Tenore): "So, wie ich die Tropfen
zolle" |
2' 53" |
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11 |
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Recitativo: "Drum, angenehmes Wiederau"
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1' 05" |
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12 |
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Coro: "Angenehmes Wiederau" |
4' 58" |
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13 |
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| Johann Sebastian BACH |
"Vereinigte
Zwietracht der wechselnden Saiten",
BWV 207 |
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34' 33" |
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Coro: "Vereinigte Zwietracht der
wechselnden Saiten" |
5' 05" |
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14 |
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Recitativo: "Wen treibt ein edler Trieb zu
dem" |
1' 54" |
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15 |
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Aria (Tenore): "Zieht euren Fuß nur nicht
zurücke" |
4' 19" |
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16 |
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Recitativo: "Dem nur allein Soll meine
Wohnung offen sein" |
2' 00" |
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17 |
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Aria (Duetto: Basso. Soprano): "Den soll
mein Lorbeer schützend decken" |
4' 53" |
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18 |
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Ritornello |
1' 45" |
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19 |
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Recitativo: "Es ist kein leeres Wort" |
1' 35" |
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20 |
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Aria (Alto): "Ätzet dieses Angedenken" |
5' 31" |
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21 |
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Recitativo: "Ihr Schläfrigen, herbei!" |
3' 05" |
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22 |
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Coro: "Kortte lebe, Kortte blühe!" |
4' 18" |
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23 |
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Monika Frimmer,
soprano
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Les Chantres du
Centre de Musique Baroque du
Versailles | Olivier Schneebeli,
direction |
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| Robin Blaze, alto |
Sophie Landy, Bèatrice
Gobin, Sarah Szlakmann, sopranos
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| Markus Schäfer,
ténor |
Bruno Le Levreur,
Julien Freymuth, Arnaud Raffarin, altos |
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| Stephan MacLeod,
basse |
Romain Champion,
Benoît Porcherot, Dominique Bonnetain,
ténors |
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Arnaud Richard, David
Witczak, Louis-Pierre Patron, basses |
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Café Zimmermann
| Gustav Leonhardt, direction
| Pablo Valetti, Konzertmeister |
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Pablo Valetti, violon
& Konzertmeister |
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Nicholas Robinson,
Mauro Lopes, Cecile Mille, David
Plantier, Pedro Martin Gandiati, violons |
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Patricia Gagnon, José
Manuel Navarro, altos |
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Petr Skalka, Etienne
Mangot, violoncelles |
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Ludek Brany, contrebasse |
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Céline Frisch, clavecin |
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Emmanuel Alemany, René
Maze, Guy Ferber, trompettes
naturelles sans trous |
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Diana Baroni, Sarah
Van Cornewal, traverso |
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Patrick Beaugiraud,
Henru Michel, Clémentine Humeau, hautbois |
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Laurent Le Chenadec, basson |
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David Vateville, timbales |
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Luogo
e data di registrazione |
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Abbaye de
Saint-Michel en Thiérache, Aisne
(Francia) - maggio 2007
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Registrazione: live
/ studio |
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studio |
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Direction artistic |
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Aline Blondiau |
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Recording Engineer
/ Editing
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Hugues Deschaux |
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Prima Edizione LP |
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nessuna |
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Prima Edizione CD |
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Alpha - ut
pictura musica | 118 |
1 CD - durata 72' 47" | (c) 2007 |
DDD |
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Cover Art
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François Boucher,
The Triumph [The Birth] of Venus,
Stockholm, National Museum |
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Note |
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Digipack
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François
Boucher (Paris,
1703-1770)
The
Triumph [The Birth] of
Venus, 1740 (Oil on
canvas, 130 x 162 cm)
Stockholm,
National Museum
Voluptuous
pleasure is the sum total
of Boucher's ideal: it is
the only soul his painting
possesses. Ask no more of
him than mythical nudes;
yet what sleight of hand,
what freshness of
imagination in that very
indecency, what harmony of
arrangement, to cast
pretty bodies onto
clouds... What a display
of blooming flesh, of
undulating lines, of forms
that seem to have been
modelled by a caress!...
The Venus whom Boucher
dreams of and paints is
only the physical Venus;
but how perfectly he knows
her! How skilled he is in
giving her all the
temptations of the
abandoned gesture, the
ready smile, the inviting
posture! How good he is at
placing her in an arousing
setting! And how
beautifully, in this
light, volatile, and
constantly reborn fidure,
he embodies Desire and
Pleasure!
The
Goncourt Brothers
Born of
sea-foam fertilised by the
blood of Uranus, then washed
up on the shore by the waves,
the goddess of love sits
languidly enthroned on a reef,
in her Isle of Beauty caressed
by the waters whence she
extends her empire. Venus is
accompanied by cheerful
Nereids whose suggestive poses
are enhanced by their
curvaceous bosoms and the
sinuous lines of their
magnificent posteriors.
Delighted by the advances of
the tritons, they are only too
pleased to surrender to their
seducers, dazzled by their
bronzed, tanned flesh tints and
the savage power of these
bodies set off by imposing
muscles. Multiplying their
feats of acrobatics, these
sea-gods enjoy the complicity
of 'carrier' dolphins while
cupids pirouette in the gentle
spray; the group is joined by
a few amorous doves, birds
sacred to Aphrodite. Above the
scene, head-over-hee1s, putti
roll themselves in luxurious
swirling drapery (a throwback
to Antiquity, by way of its
modern imitator Raphael),
whilst a male deity takes
pleasure in pouring the
contents of an immense conch
into the eddying waters. Freed
from all care, the festivities
take place in an atmosphere of
lasciviousness, with even the
raging clouds and the towering
rocky spurs apparently
manifesting their approval for
rejoicings which seem destined
to last eternally. Far from
casting a shadow over the
prevailing ambience, the thick
black clouds surmounting the
grotto which opens to the
right set in relief the happy
nonchalance of the protagonist
and the voluptuous pleasure of
their exchanges, suggesting
that a natural alcove away
from prying eyes is at their
disposal for intimate
love-play.
Acquired by Count Carl Gustav
Tessin, ambassador
extraordinary and future prime
minister to the king of
Sweden, an assiduous client of
the artist and devotee of
French culture, Boucher's
masterpiece takes its place in
a long tradition which made
eroticism, under cover of joie
de vivre, a recurring theme of
European painting. At the
moment when this topos
re-emerged with unprecedent
vitality and liberty of tone,
exalted by lightness of
tecnique, the painter handles
with brio a subject inspired
both by mythology and by the
youthful charm of his wife,
née Marie-Jeanne Buseau,
sometime copyst to the master
and, it was whispered, the
Swede's former mistress.
Colin,
prompted by frolicsome love,
Was
observing at his leisure,
one day,
The legs,
whiter than alabaster,
Of his
beloved Rose.
Now he
attended to the left,
Now the
right enticed him away.
"I don't
know", he said, "which of
the two to gaze on;
Their equal
beauties jostle for
attention."
"Ah!" says
Rose to him, "My dear,
without further ado,
You can
settle their quarrel by
placing yourself between the
two."
Alexis
Piron, Les Belles jambes
(1730)
On much the same wavelenght as
Piron, the poet and dramatist
from Dijon, this specialist in
female curves and fine legs
caresses nacreous skin with
his sensual and lively brush.
A ribald turn of mind might
imagine that the suggestive
seashell being emptied of its
content evokes the act of
love, and might even see in
the movement of the long
drapery towards the fissure in
the rocks a saucy allusion to
the type of intercourse to
which it is liable to play
host. The atmosphere of
Rocaille tends towards gaiety,
and we venture to suggest that
its common ground with the
secular music of Johann
Sebastian Bach, who can hardly
be accused of having
cultivated boredom, but
appears on the contrary to
have been something of a bon
vivant, might justify the
juxtaposition of the two. An
allegory reflecting the tastes
of the time, to be sure; an
effervescent and infectious
sense of elation, without a
doubt. Are the grace and
elegance, the verve of Boucher
(who died twenty years after
the composer), so highly
thought of in his clay, really
so alien to the idiom of the
Saxon when, inspired by the
commission in hand, his mood
grows festive?
Denis
Grenier
Department
of History
Laval
University, Quebec
September 2007
Translation:
Charles Johnston
Johann
Sebastian Bach - Two
secular cantatas
Like every
musician of his time, Bach
composed occasional music. At
Mühlhausen and again when he
was employed at the ducal
court in Weimar, he produced
wedding cantatas for the
daughters of wealthy citizens,
as well as serenades and music
for the celebration of the New
Year and other special
occasions. Some of them
required only modest forces,
while others - important civic
occasions, for example - were
much more sumptuous affairs.
Especially in Leipzig...
'Cantor zu St. Thomae et
Director Musices Lipsiensis'
was Bach's official title in
Leipzig, and he was
particularly attached to the
latter part, Director
Musices, Civic Director
of Music, a public
appointment. It meant that he
was not only responsible for
the music of the four
principal Leipzig churches and
for training the children of
the Thomasschule, the boarding
school attached to St
Thomas's. He was also called
upon for other aspects of the
city's musical life, which
meant facing an audience,
seeking approval, and
providing secular works -
cantatas, concertos or
orchestral suites - for
various civic entertainments.
There was great demand for new
music both at court and in the
city. Families and friends
would get together in their
homes to sing and play music.
There was music at school, in
church, and even in the
streets. Any event served as a
good excuse for music making,
and music provided the
backdrop for every aspect of
social life.
The inhabitants of Leipzig
were particularly fond of
nocturnal celebrations,
torchlight processions, and
serenades. Anniversaries,
birthdays, commemorations,
tributes, and the visits of
important personalities: all
were occasions for splendid
concerts, the culmination of
which - the long-awaited
moment - was the performance
of a short musical drama
(which was sung but not
acted). Bach wrote and
'produced' at least sixty
secular cantatas, only fifteen
of which have survived
complete, and they are the
least known and most
infrequently played of all his
works.
On this recording we present
two secular cantatas neither
of which today seems to
interest either musicians, who
rarely perform them, or
musicologists, who prefer to
study the sacred works they
later became. For Bach
subsequently used the same
material for two church
cantatas, and those are the
versions that are generally
heard. It was common practice
at that time to adapt and
re-use earlier compositions
and it is quite easy to
understand why. A sacred
cantata, written for a
specific church festival or a
particular Sunday in the
liturgical year, could be
brought out again year after
year. A secular piece, on the
other hand, was ephemeral;
normally the occasion for
which it was written would not
recur, there would be no
opportunity for a repeat
performance. Since writing it
had taken much effort, why not
use all or part of it again,
especially if the work had
been well received? It could
be converted into a liturgical
piece, which meant changing
the text, the context and the
characters, or it could also
be used for another secular
occasion. Likewise, sacred
pieces could be recycled for
other sacred occasions. But
what was not possible, because
it was sacrilegious, was a
move in the other direction,
from sacred to secular.
Shortly before his arrival in
Leipzig, Bach had been
involved in a wrangle with
Leipzig University. He had
laid claim to the traditional
right of the Cantor of the
Thomaskirche to be responsible
for providing music for the
services held at the
University Church of St Paul
(the Paulinerkirche). But the
Rector and some of the
professors had caused his
request to be turned down. So
it is easy to understand why
Bach thereafter missed no
opportunity to compose
brilliant tributes to that
institution and to its staff,
some of whom, moreover, became
lifelong friends of his:
August Müller, for example,
who was Professor of
Philosophy, and Johann Abraham
Birnbaum, Professor of
Rhetoric. In 1726, still
smarting no doubt from the
rebuff, he was commissioned to
compose a congratulatory work
for the installation of Dr
Gottlieb Kortte of Frankfurt
University as Professor of
Jurisprudence at Leipzig.
Kortte, who was only
twenty-eight at that time,
died five years later.
A solemn official occasion of
that type called for
impressive musical forces.
Furthermore Bach wished to
create an impact. He composed
his cantata Vereinigte
Zwietracht der wechselnden
Saiten BWV 207 for four
soloists, a chorus of three
trumpets and timpani, two
flutes and three oboes, and a
string ensemble. The work was
performed on 11 December 1726,
most likely in one of the
university buildings, where
the three trumpets must have
sounded with brilliant effect.
Some of the musicians were
probably students, members of
the Collegium Musicum, then
directed by Schott, from whom
Bach was shortly to take over.
The cantata presents four
allegorical figures: Happiness
(soprano), Gratitude (alto),
Diligence (tenor) and Honour
(bass). The libretto was
probably written, as usual
during Bach's early years in
Leipzig, by Christian
Friedrich Henrici, better
known as Picander.
Congratulatory texts such as
this are often unfairly
criticised nowadays, accused
of being fulsome, unoriginal
and uninspired. But they were
only following the literary
and stylistic conventions of
their time, which included the
use of allegory. The
recitatives are noticeably
longer than those of church
cantatas; they are used to
expand on an element from the
poem and bring out its
multiple allusions, which must
have appealed to the audience
at such events. In the alto
recitative, No. 6 in the
score, for example, the
subject of law (Kortte, we
remember, was Professor of
Jurisprudence) is represented
by a reference to Astraea's
Temple, Astraea being the
goddess of justice who,
according to Ovid, chose to
abandon earth for heaven after
the fall of the Golden Age. At
the end of the same
recitative, the candles
metaphor is one that everybody
present would have understood,
referring simply to Professor
Kortte's students, enlightened
by his teaching.
The solemn but spectacular
introduction, using the full
forces, is an arrangement,
transposed and adapted, of the
third movement of the First
Brandenburg Concerto BWV 1046,
composed almost ten years
previously. The opening words
address the strings and the
timpani, and obtain a festive
response. In the middle of the
cantata, after the
aria-duetto, comes a purely
instrumental 'ritornello',
providing an interlude in the
laudatory proceedings; the
second trio is also borrowed
from BWV 1046. Preceded in
each case by a recitative, the
three arias, including the
aria-duetto for bass and
soprano, are performed by the
allegories; they are written
with refinement and subtlety.
Note in particular the
delicacy with which Diligence
makes the invitation to follow
his path. The four characters
share one last recitative
addressed to the new
Professor, then the work ends
with a splendid chorus.
Bach later used all the
material from this cantata as
it stands, with the excepnon
of three of the recitatives,
and of course with a new text,
for the cantata Auf,
schmetternde Töne der
muntern Trompeten BWV
207a, in celebration of the
name day of the elector of
Saxony, Augustus II, on 3
August 1735.
It is believed that there were
three or four special
non-religious occasions each
year in Leipzig, for which
Bach was expected to provide
celebratory music, in addition
to his task of writing for the
churches. Some eleven years
after his cantata for
Professor Kortte, he was
requested to write an
occasional piece in honour of
a man called Johann Christian
von Hennicke. Hennicke was a
senior civil servant, a
commoner who had been ennobled
in 1728 by the all-powerful
Count Heinrich von Brühl,
prime minister of Saxony under
Augustus III. Hennicke was
vain and unpopular, and he was
accused of corruption. In 1737
he became a minister in
Brühl's cabinet and a property
at Wiederau, near Leipzig,
became his fief, of which he
officially took possession on
28 September. Bach's secular
cantata, or rather dramma per
musica, Angenehmes
Wiederau, freue dich BWV
30a, was written to celebrate
that occasion.
The new lord of Wiederau, who
enjoyed the favour not only of
the prime minister but also of
the queen, was a perfect
example of what we today would
call a parvenu. But since he
was an important figure in
local politics, it was
necessary to comply with his
wishes. Picander as usual
produced the laudatory
libretto, its praise spoken
once again by four allegorical
figures: Time (soprano), Good
Fortune (alto), Fate (bass),
and the River Elster (tenor) -
the river that flows through
the estate at Wiederau. In
another homage cantata, Schleicht,
spielende Wellen BWV
206, written the previous
year, each of the four
soloists had represented a
river.
In this work the appropriately
festive orchestral forces are
almost the same as in BWV 207,
but more ample. The work is in
thirteen movements: the
opening grand chorus is
repeated to different words at
the end; between the two, five
arias are linked by six
recitatives. The work follows
the relatively conventional
structure of the poem in
homage to Hennicke. The first
four of the five arias are da
capo. Some of the
movements appear to have been
taken over from earlier works
(notably the choruses, Nos. 1
and 13, and the aria, No. 5).
In contrast with the rather
ordinary arrangement of the
movements, however, the music
is constantly delightful:
imaginative and pleasing to
the ear, often with a
dance-like quality (beginning
with the syncopations of the
first chorus), and very lively.
Ideal for pleasing both the
audience and the dedicatee!
Let us just point out the
passepied in the first aria
('Willkommen im Heil', No. 3)
and, after a long instrumental
introduction that is repeated
in conclusion, the second aria
('Was die Seele kann
ergötzen', No. 5), in which
Good Fortune sings in dialogue
with the flute and both are
supported by the muted first
violin with the other strings
playing pizzicato. The
vehement bass aria (No. 7) is
transported with enthusiasm,
and the trio in movement No. 9
- where Time sings 'Eilt, ihr
Stundenl' - is strikingly
beautiful.
Bach could not possibly have
left such exquisite music to
lie dormant. A few months
later, at a time when his
creative genius appears to
have temporarily dried up -
hardly any original new works
from the period 1734-39 have
come down to us - he re-used
most of the material from this
fine work for another cantata,
BWV 30, Freue dich, erlöste
Schar, in celebration of St
Michael's Day, 24 June 1738.
Although the latter is
performed more often, it was
important to present at last
the original secular version.
Gilles
Cantagrel
Translation: Mary
Pardoe
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