As
with last week, we start with the bass giving out a direct quote from
St John's account of the Last Supper setting the tone for the whole
cantata. And its so uncomplicated: “Truly, truly, I say
to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name will be given to you”.
Really? Isn't there supposed to
be some comforting conditionality here, some quid pro quo
that can enable human transaction-obsessed minds to cope with divine
generosity? Nope, apparently not. We are in the business of something
that bends human concepts of fairness to its limits. And the music
fits completely with this theme of simplicity and directness. It
reminded me of the start of a Mozart mass; the descending major triad
motif which keeps coming back could almost be something that Wolfgang
Amadeus wrote for Salzburg Cathedral from the 1770s. (That was when
Mozart was told by the Bishop of Salzburg that no Mass should ever
last more than 40 minutes. The good old days..)
In
terms of performances, there's a lovely clarity and lightness to
Sigiswald Kuijken's approach with La Petite Bande here
(http://www.bach-cantatas.com/Performers/Kuijken-Rec2.htm#L10)
, with a light baritonal, comforting tone from Jan van der Crabben as
the vox Christi. By
contrast, Nicolas Harnoncourt's 1977 account
(http://www.bach-cantatas.com/Performers/H&L-Rec6.htm#L22)
emphasises the heartier side of comfort, with darker woodwind sounds
coming through the texture and a jolly country-dance feel.
Incidentally, this recording was apparently made in the Casino
Zogernitz in Vienna; I was slightly disappointed to discover that
this was a recording studio, rather than Harnoncourt's favourite
venue for a flutter on the roulette table...
The
alto aria that follows starts with a fascinating bit of hard work for
the solo violinist- it's Vivaldi-esque in its virtuosity. It's an
almost happy-go-lucky text: “Ich will doch wohl Rosen
brechen, Wenn mich gleich die itzt Dornen stechen.”- “I
will indeed pluck roses, even if thorns prick me at the same time”.
There's a brief darker moment in the second section when suddenly
some thick thorny textures from the strings underpin the words
“Bitten und Flehen”- prayers
and entreaties- but again it all gets so much simpler again almost
immediately. It's a real Hakuna Matata moment; and even when the
prickly thorny motif comes back right at the end, it now has a
major-key underpinning. Again, I loved the Kuijken recording of this;
Petra Noskaiova has a very boyish alto sound, which fits with Bach's
likely performance practice; but her performance made me imagine an
older boy going out to play in full knowledge of past sadness.
Harnoncourt's countertenor, Paul Esswood has rather choppy phrasing;
I found his account more thorny than rosy.
The
next movement is something unusual again; the real musical interest
isn't given to the soprano soloist , but to the busy oboe duet that
bustles along under the chorale melody. It's an interesting shift in
the usual balance of musical power, and it fits
with the overarching message of the cantata: confidence in
simplicity. Even over all the complications of the world, the words
of the chorale ring out like a subconscious memory or a prayer
uttered in sleep: “Und
was der ewig gültig Gott In seinem Wort versprochen hat, Geschworn
bei seinem Namen, Das hält und gibt er gwiß fürwahr.”-
“What God, the eternally good, has promised in his word, and
sworn by his name, that will he keep and fulfil for sure”. And the
tenor's recitative and aria brings this message home; Bach gives him
clear repetitions of “Gott
hilft gewiss”- “God
helps, for certain” and a clear singable melody (with only an
exuberant leap up to a top B on the last word hilft
to
complicate things!).
It
almost has the feel of a country dance; Nicolas Harnoncourt's
conducting helps things along with a jolly swing.
And
finally all the voices together bring us to a cheerful end in the
chorale, with only a tiny little dark moment on the words “und
braucht an uns kein Argre List”- “He
uses no cunning deceit with us”. Sometimes, life really is that
simple. Hakuna matata!