Again, with Cantata No. 8, the 18th century attitude towards death is juxtaposed against our 21st century aversion.  In pondering this divide over the weekend, I encountered a bit of poetry I’d sung in college, the Death Carol from Whitman’s elegy, When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d, written soon after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.  Whitman writes:

Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love — but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.

Though couched in his unique, 19th century worldview, Whitman is projecting an understanding of death that isn’t worlds apart from the theological understanding of death in Bach’s time.  Indeed, Bach wrote an aria whose first line, “Come sweetest death, come blessed rest,” seems to be cut from the same cloth as the Whitman.  Of course, Whitman’s theology was deeply informed by his affection for (if not participation in) transcendentalism, and Bach’s belongs to the Lutheran church of his time.  As such, Cantata No. 8 offers an exegetical survey of this topic that ends with the bliss of redemption and the comfort of an honored grave.  Indeed, the Bach scholar Phillip Spitta, whose romantic view of Bach’s music is perhaps unparalleled, writes that Cantata No. 8 brings us “the sound of tolling bells, the fragrance of blossoms pervade it – the sentiment of a churchyard in springtime.”

Before we journey to the churchyard in springtime, we’ll begin in the musical salon, to hear Greg Funfgeld’s performance of Bach’s fourth French Suite, in Eb Major.  Bach lived a relatively isolated life, geographically speaking, though his imagination was constantly embarking on journeys, fed by his voracious appetite for music of all styles, from as many sources as upon which he could get his hands!  A delightful suite of dances, this piece includes eight small dance movements which vary in tone and tempo.  Fiercely elegant, and full of zest, these lovely bon-bons will be a wonderful opener for the concert.  Take a moment to look at the harpsichord after the concert – it was constructed here in Bethlehem by the highly-esteemed builder, Willard Martin, whose work has earned him the status of legend in early music circles.  The weather outside may be frightful, but inside Central Moravian, all will be delightful with a wonderful performance of beautiful music.  The doors open at 11:30 am.  See you there!

Congratulations to my colleagues in The Choir and Orchestra, and many thanks to everyone who turned out for our 50th Bach at Noon, this afternoon.  We had a capacity audience (standing room only!) with guests from four schools, in addition to our usual audience.  Greg was able to acknowledge two audience members, an individual in The Choir, and himself and our beloved Executive Director, Bridget George, as attendees at all 50 concerts (Greg mentioned that he even conducted one performance from a wheel chair, after a knee injury). Our colleagues in the Bach Festival Orchestra had an excellent First Brandenburg Concerto, with particular kudos to Tony Cecere and Dan Braden, who played the demanding horn parts marvelously.  Likewise, all of the sections of the orchestra distinguished themselves in Bach’s virtuosic concerto grosso.  It was great fun to sing Cantata 65, and to hear the wonderful obligato playing of oboes da caccia by Mary Watt and Nabuo Kitagawa.  Christòpheren Nomura and Robert Petillo both sang excellent recits and wonderful arias.  There was a wonderful sense of good cheer and encouragement from the audience, and just an overall sense of celebration.  Many thanks, also, to Greg Funfgeld, for his vision in conceiving this venture, and to the many individuals who worked so hard to bring it to fruition.  Here’s to 50 more, and then some!

The Morning Call already has some pictures of the afternoon up on their site.

The Los Angeles Times has a short video from the same journalist who took the photography for the slide show above about the 50th Bach at Noon up on their site.

The Choir was mentioned in Ellen Hughes article recapping the year in review in the Harrisburg Patriot News as a highlight of the 2011 concert season.  We offered our Spring Concert in Harrisburg under the auspices of Market Square Concerts to a full and very welcoming audience.

Steve Siegel has a preview of Tuesday’s Bach at Noon up on the Morning Call’s site, as does Melinda Rizzo, with a preview on the Express-Times site.  We’re grateful for the media attention we receive from both papers, and, in particular, as someone who writes about our work, I always enjoy the work of both Mr. Siegel and Ms. Rizzo.

I sang at the first Bach at Noon, and recall with fondness the program our conductor had devised for the afternoon: the first Brandenburg concerto, and Bach’s monumental Epiphany cantata, No. 65. I had become a fan of both of those pieces through the use of now-obsolete technology: the cassette tape. After attending my first Bach Choir concert, the summer after my eighth grade year, I insisted on getting a copy of The Choir’s then-new recording, Christmas in Leipzig (which included Cantatas 63 and 65, as well as the Sanctus from the B-Minor Mass). The tape got a lot of play on my Walkman, and in the home and car stereos of anyone who would let me play it (perhaps earlier, less successful efforts at evangelizing Bach’s music). Likewise, I began collecting other recordings of Bach’s music on cassette, including Charles Munch’s recording of the Brandenburgs with members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The Munch has long since fallen out of favor, but you may reasonably gather how I feel about The Bach Choir’s work (that first cassette, soon worn thin and hissy from overuse was eventually replaced by a CD of the same recording).

At that first Bach at Noon, I finally got to sing Cantata No. 65, and was the first time I heard Greg conduct the First Brandenburg. It was a fantastic afternoon – a packed house enjoyed some really beautiful music. Greg’s rapport with the audience was easy and enthusiastic, and it felt as though we were christening a new vessel at the beginning of a wonderful voyage. The seas have remained calm, and there have been copious favorable breezes in our sails, and we are now marking the occasion of our 50th Bach at Noon performance. This is an accomplishment in which all of us, performers, supporters, and audience, alike, can take a large measure of pride.

The not-insubstantial cost of offering these concerts for free to the general public has been offset by generous corporate and community donors, as well as the endowment of six of the seven concerts by individuals and groups of individuals (including past and present members of The Choir). We are able to be generous in giving away these concerts only through the generosity and vision of our wonderful supporters, and that is certainly cause for celebration!

So, on Tuesday, January 10th, beginning at noon at the Central Moravian Church, we’ll revisit our very first program, and I’d like to share a few words about the music. Dedicated to the Margrave of Brandenburg, the Brandenburg Concerti were presented to Johann Ludwig in 1721. Some of have speculated that the Margrave lacked the instrumental resources to have them performed, and they apparently lingered in obscurity in various collections until their modern-era discovery in 1849, whereupon they were received with the incredulity they continue to command today.

The first concerto, which we will hear on Tuesday, begins with a jaunty allegro, with two french horns dialoguing with different instruments in the Baroque orchestra, including violins and oboe. It’s somewhat amusing to imagine the interloping natural horns making their raucous presence felt within the context of their slightly more refined instrumental colleagues. Bach puts all of the instruments through their paces, and follows this with a very complex and florid adagio. Over slightly unsettled harmony, Bach demonstrates his skill at orchestration, with the different instrumental groups in a very compelling dialogue. As that movement resolves, another jaunty allegro continues with the horns trading melodic passages with the string and winds sections including a violin and oboe soloists. There is something fiercely brilliant in how individual instrumentalists are called upon to spring forth from the texture to solo, and then to return among their colleagues for ensemble playing. The music sounds entirely natural, even inexorable, and yet it must have been fiendishly difficult to conceive so lush an instrumental texture from a blank slate (not to mention the difficulty in playing it!). The concerto concludes with a number of short dance movements, showcasing different instruments in varying combinations. This is exceptionally elegant music, and the perfect way to prepare our ears for Cantata 65.

Composed for the Feast of the Epiphany (which commemorates the arrival of the Magi), this piece begins with a magnificent evocation of the journey of the Magi. The music feels in three, perhaps evoking the three Magi, and also has a lilting quality that seems extremely “camelesque” to my ears. One can distinctly feel the peculiar gate of a camel in this music, which is also a rather intricate choral fugue. Bach’s librettist quotes Isaiah in the first movement, “They will all come out of Sheba to bring gifts of gold and incense…” On the words “alle kommen” meaning all will come, Bach crafts long melismatic passages, with many notes to one syllable of text, as if to underline how far they “all will come.” The orchestration is rich with two horns, flutes, and strings.

Following the opening chorus, we hear a chorale which quotes the Isaiah text found in the opening chorus, but adds myrrh to the list of gifts brought to Christ by his visitors from Sheba. Following this, we hear a beautiful baritone recitative (sung on Tuesday by the amazing Christòpheren Nomura), in which the singer brings Isaiah’s prophecy into the present day, and, in a compelling bit of text, offers his heart to the infant redeemer. Next, an aria for baritone, in which the singer reflects on the inadequacy of worldly gifts (“gold from Ophir is too meager”), and bids listeners to give their hearts to Christ at the dawn of the New Year. This admonition is accompanied by almost jazzy oboes da caccia, which have a slightly more rustic sound then the more refined oboe d’amore. Their very rusticity gives this aria an exotic air, transporting listeners (through Bach’s fertile imagination) to the Middle East of biblical times. Next, another recitative, this time by tenor (sung by the accomplished Robert Petillo), the librettist uses gold, myrrh, and incense as metaphors for faith, prayer, and patience, and alludes to God’s favor and love, as well as the heavenly reward, as far more desirable gifts. This is followed by a virtuoso tenor aria, accompanied by the full orchestra, including flutes and horns, which acts as a kind of prayer of dedication (while taking all of their performers through their paces, including some blazingly melismatic singing by the tenor on the text “All that I am… shall be dedicated to God’s service”). I’m eager to hear how Robert will bring this beautiful music to life. The cantata (and concert) will conclude with another chorale, which also is a kind of dedicatory prayer.

As anyone who’s attended a Bach at Noon is sure to have noticed, our organization is extremely gratified to offer this music to the public – to bring before listeners the music of one of Western civilization’s sharpest minds – in an atmosphere of enthusiastic and loving discovery. At a personal level, I find it an utter delight to take part in the sharing of music that I’d encountered with wonder as a child, and continue to find so nourishing and rewarding to perform. Join us on Tuesday afternoon and experience what’s so very special about Bach at Noon as we celebrate our 50th performance in this wonderful series.

Photo from the Tenor Section by Lynn Ditty

The 2011 Bach Choir Christmas Concerts are now a fond memory for listeners and singers, alike!  Congratulations and thanks are due to many members of our organization:  from the administrative staff, who did a brilliant job (as always) with ticketing, marketing, and the myriad of unsung, behind-the-scenes work, to our fearless leader, Greg Funfgeld, for his wonderful work in conceiving and preparing all of the musicians for a very stimulating program, to my colleagues in The Choir and Orchestra for their hard work in learning the challenging music in new styles, and, finally, to everyone who came out to hear this glorious music.   The Bethlehem concert was sold-out, and we had a fine showing in Allentown.  Lots of moments stand out in my memory – from Charlotte Mattax-Mersch’s zesty and elegant renditions of nöels in the Charpentier, to the trio of women (including Choir member, Beth Gardner) offering lovely singing in the same.  Cantata No. 40 had two bravura arias, and Ben Butterfield and Joshua Copeland triumphed over the challenges beautifully.  Our colleagues in the orchestra had to master the notes inégales in the Charpentier, and they did a magnificent job of capturing the improvisatory spirit of French Baroque music.  What delightful concerts!

If you were unable to attend, or you did, and would like a replay, listen to WWFM on Friday, December 23rd, beginning at 8 pm, for a broadcast, which will include an interview with Greg (for which he had to drive to Trenton today – no rest for the weary!).

The Choir is now on hiatus until January.  We’ll hit the ground running for our 50th (!) Bach at Noon on Tuesday, January 10th, beginning at noon at Central Moravian Church in Bethlehem.  We’re repeating the program from the first Bach at Noon – Bach’s wonderful Epiphany Cantata No. 65 (which splendidly evokes the journey of the Magi with some really wonderful camel-based text-painting), and Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 1.  It’s going to be a wonderful celebration.

It’s been an amazing fall:  we began with The Choir’s performances in the September 11th remembrances at Trinity Wall Street and St. Paul’s Chapel on September 9th, and offered some of that repertoire in Bethlehem at this year’s first Bach at Noon.  Charlotte Mattax-Moersch offered three Bach harpsichord concertos over the three Bach at Noon concerts.  We had a triumphant gala in October, with Hilary Hahn playing a stunning concert, and the generous patrons of The Choir far surpassing our fundraising goals.  In the midst of all of this, The Choir released a new CD, our Songs of Hope recording, and editing was completed on what is certain to be a very special release this spring:  Bach’s monumental St. John Passion, and we prepared for our wonderful Christmas Concerts.  Whew!

This feast of inestimable riches continues this winter and spring:  from exuberant and celebratory Bach at Noon concerts, to our annual Family Concert (this year with dancers from around the Valley), a spring concert of Brahms’ transcendant Ein Deutsches Requiem, and the Festival in May, a lot of gorgeous music is on tap for the Bach Choir Family!  Stay tuned for more information – and remember to like us on Facebook to receive periodic updates and to receive word whenever I’ve posted here.

Update, December 13th:  Steve Siegel has a glowing review on the Morning Call’s music blog.

Members of the Bach Choir family enjoyed a lovely open house at the Bachhaus last evening.  Members of the Bethlehem Garden Club had decked the ‘haus beautifully for the season, and attendees were able to enjoy some delicious nibbles and musical offerings by Maddie Link, the daughter of our Development Officer, Kathy Link, on the harp.  I’ve long since promised readers of the blog a tour of the ‘haus, and hope to make good on that soon.

While we enjoyed the beautiful atmosphere, music, and cheer of the open house, we thought of our colleagues, Greg Funfgeld and Tom Goeman, who are in Montreal at the studio of Tonmeister Martha De Francisco, working on the final editing of our third Analekta release, last May’s recording of the St. John Passion.  This is painstaking work, with hours of critical listening to short clips to achieve the right balances, and to select the very best takes of each moment of the piece.  I had the privilege of listening to the first edit on two long trips to and from North Carolina over the Thanksgiving holiday.  The recording is extraordinary – Martha’s legwork in the editing studio was beyond masterful, and I’m certain that everyone involved will be extremely proud of the final product.  Obviously, I’m biased, but I think this is truly one for the ages!  The recording is set to be released in March, and members of the Bach Choir family (particularly those who were able to hear Charles Daniels’ revelatory performance as evangelist at the first weekend of the Festival this past May) will want to own a copy.  Stay tuned for more St. John news!

Finally, there’s still time to get your tickets for the 2011 Christmas Concerts.  The Bethlehem concert was, at last telling, almost sold out, but there are still plenty of seats available in Allentown, where you may hear the choir in the crystal clear environs of the First Presbyterian Church.  I’m going to be giving an interview on WDIY this coming Friday at 10, and we’ll preview some of the music and talk about the compositions. You can also read some thoughts about each of the pieces by scrolling down below.  You can order your tickets online here, you can call the Bach Choir office at 610 866 4382, or, if you’re downtown, you can visit the Bachhaus during office hours and visit with our fantastic staff!

Each of the first three pieces for our 2011 Christmas Concerts are magnificent evocations of the programatic aims of their composers.  In Cantata No. 40, we experience, in sound, the battle between the faithful and the devil in the context of the Second Day of Christmas, which is the feast day of the martyr, St. Stephen.  In Charpentier’s Midnight Mass, we hear the carols contemporaneous to his time recast as movements of a Mass intended for use at a midnight liturgy on Christmas Eve.  Poulenc’s Four Motets for the Time of Christmas offer vivid impressions of the ancient Latin texts they set.  In the final piece on the program (before the audience carols), Part III of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, we join Luke’s narrative of the adoration of the Shepherds, with musical and poetic commentary by Bach and his librettist.

The piece begins with jubilant fanfares from trumpets and timpani, followed with a contrapuntal entrance of the choir, beginning with tenors, in a hymn of praise thanking God for the sure and secure salvation offered to believers through the incarnation.

A recitative follows,  as the tenor, acting as evangelist or storyteller, rejoins the narrative from Luke.  Having just been visited by the angels announcing Christ’s birth, the shepherds exhort one another to travel to Bethlehem.  Bach makes this fleet-footed journey manifest with a delightfully zesty turba chorus (the choir becomes, musically, a host of shepherds).  Upon hearing this music, one imagines a swiftly moving company of individuals, making their quick journey to Bethlehem, to give homage to their Savior.

In a recitative accompanied by continuo instruments and flutes, the bass then comments on Jesus’ arrival, and encourages the shepherds on their way.  Bach leaves the intimacy of the scene to comment with a chorale by Martin Luther for the next movement, the text of which offers an eloquent summary of the reason for the shepherds excitement and thanksgiving for God’s mercy, ending with the words Kyrieleis’, “Lord have mercy!”

Bach continues the reflection on the mercy of God in a charming duet for bass and soprano, accompanied by oboes and continuo, observing that God’s mercy comforts and sets free the faithful.  Bach’s soprano and bass duets are often his most playful, and this one is no exception – the oboes and later the singers move in parallel motion, often with slurred figures, evoking an ebullient dance.

Another recitative brings us back to Luke, with the adoration of the shepherds, concluding with Mary pondering in her heart all that was said about her infant son.  After the recit, we hear a beautiful, slightly melancholy aria for alto with violin obbligato.  The alto pleads to have the sense of wonder and the comfort of salvation kept in heart of the faithful forever.  This aria seems to convey a wealth of emotions beyond the simple prayer offered in the text.

In a recitative, the alto next endeavors to cherish the present time to eternal bliss as the signs witnessed by the shepherds, a theme picked up by the choir in a chorale that follows.  Next, the evangelist rejoins the Luke gospel as the shepherds depart praising God for all they’d seen.

The choir offers another chorale this exhorting the listeners to be glad in the events of the incarnation.  This is another harmonization of a chorale heard in Cantata No. 40 at the beginning of the program – Bach’s harmonizations of the Lutheran chorales are infamous for the genius of his craftsmanship and harmonic sophistication (and occasionally objects of confusion for the congregations who had to sing them).  In this case, you’ll hear two slightly different takes on the same melody, one at the beginning of the program and one  at the end.

The piece then concludes with a repeat of the opening chorus, with its festive trumpets and timpani, 3/4 dance, and rapturous singing, a most fitting way to segue to the singing of Christmas carols which which we will bring the evening to a close.

We’re very excited to be offering this program to audiences in Bethlehem and Allentown. We’ve also recently learned that the Bethlehem concert will be recorded for broadcast closer to Christmas.  I will certainly post the details as they are finalized.  I’m also going to join Wally Vinovskis in the studio at WDIY on Friday, December 9th to listen to some of the repertoire and discuss the program. I’ll also link to the previews of the concert in the local press.  The holiday season is often a time of arch-busyness and stress, and this program stands as a wonderful antidote to all of the trials of this time of year.  Treat yourself and someone you love to a wonderful and wonder-filled afternoon/evening of glorious music!  Tickets are available at The Choir’s website, or by calling 610 866 4382.

When we began rehearsing Francis Poulenc’s Quatre Motets pour le temps de Nöel (Four Motets for the time of Christmas), I noticed something curious in the score.  At the end of each piece, the publishers listed date and location of the conclusion of its composition.  There surely is a doctoral dissertation lurking in that detail (“Poulenc’s Christmas Bouillabaisse: Ontology and Place in the Composition of the Quatre Motets,” perhaps?).  I found it interesting from a francophile’s perspective:  I wonder if and how those places shaped Poulenc’s composition (destinations such as Noizay on the Loire, Marseille, Aix en Provence, and Paris surely appeal!).  Alas, I shall have to leave such investigations to others.

The set of unaccompanied pieces begins with the text, O Magnum Mysterium, which ponders a paradox also considered by Bach in Cantata No. 40, the birth of an infant savior into conditions that don’t seem to befit his majesty.  The text of the Poulenc marvels at Christ’s incarnation among the animals of the stable.  Poulenc evokes this magnum mystery with splendidly mysterious music in the key of Bb-minor.  In this compact masterpiece, one hears, almost at once, the enormous range of influences on Poulenc’s compositional style:  from American Jazz, to the music of his impressionist forbearers; from the more conservative craftsmanship of Gabriel Fauré, to his contemporaries in the informal group of French composers to which Poulenc belonged (including Darius Milhaud and Arthur Honegger).

That craftsmanship is in evidence in the second motet, whose text begins with a question:  Quem vidistis, pastores, dicite, annunciate nobis, in terris quis apparuit? (“Whom did you see, shepherds, tell us, announce to us, who appeared on earth?”).  Poulenc evokes this question with unsettled music, the melodies always rising to the question mark, some voice parts singing the melody, accompanied by other singers moving in parallel motion with their mouths closed.  Poulenc moves the singers through several moods, textures, and key signatures, demonstrating that particular French affinity for harmony and seamless modulations.

The next motet captures the journey of the Magi as they followed the star to Bethlehem, and includes some of the most challenging harmonies of this set of pieces.  Poulenc combines a remarkably worshipful mood with some of the most overtly jazzy harmonies in the Four Motets, to great effect.  The dissonances are exquisite, and somehow capture the bitterness of the myrrh, the bracing lift of the frankincense, and the shimmer of the gold.

Completing the set is the jubilant Hodie Christus Natus Est (“Today is born Christ the Savior”).  Here, we find Poulenc capturing the glorias of the archangels and this piece sounds almost madrigalesque in its intimacy, but with especially jazzy harmonies.  It also moves quite quickly, and a lot of care went into stacking and tuning chords that listeners will only hear for a second or two.  This is rapturous music that crackles with joy and light.

The Motets are quite challenging for singers, both in the rhythmic and melodic demands, as well as the nettlesome yet brilliant harmony that is one of Poulenc’s trademarks.  I’ve greatly enjoyed the process of learning them, and I think our audience will very much enjoy our efforts to master this music.  These four pieces seem to live quite cheerfully among the other repertoire in this program, despite residing much closer to our present time, in terms of their harmony and melodies.  With the first Bach piece on the program, we will hear the horns of battle and a stoic Lutheran confidence in God’s grace.  With the Charpentier, we listen to a bevy of influences and source material in the hands of a master adapter, who creates a compelling sound picture of Christmas Eve.  With the Poulenc, the composer uses a large palette of melody and harmony to paint the mysteries and joys of Christmastide.  I will write next about our return to Bach’s music to conclude the concert, with Bach’s masterful evocation of the adoration of the shepherds.

In my last post, I wrote about Bach’s brilliant Cantata No. 40.  If we imagined ourselves in the pews on the second day of Christmas in Leipzig with that piece, for the next piece on the program, we must journey to late seventeenth century France for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve (not at all a bad journey to make!).  This piece has long held my imagination, and perhaps I’m taken by its programatic intent:  for a liturgical musician to imagine a French cathedral at midnight on Christmas Eve, perhaps a light dusting of snow in the churchyard, the congregation bathed in the glow of soft candlelight, incense aplenty, and the ever-so-elegant sonorities of French baroque instrumentalists and singers, playing and singing this highly ornamented and beautiful music, is a kind of ecclesiastical Eden.

Generally speaking, large choirs and modern orchestras don’t assay this music all that often – it’s much easier to imagine a few singers on a part, and a smattering of string players, a couple of flutes and continuo.   If there is a larger choir up to the challenges of rendering this music with style and precision, we’re surely contenders – we’ve made a specialty of singing the intricate counterpoint of Bach’s music with precision and clarity for over a century!  Likewise, among our number in the Bach Festival Orchestra are several early French music specialists, who will bring their knowledge to bear in our interpretation.  So, this Mass doesn’t contain the kind of musical fireworks and taunting of the devil found in Cantata No. 40, but, rather, all of the elegance and panache of a Fabergé egg: deeply ornamented, intricate, and astonishingly beautiful.  In our singing, we’ve been working on pinpoint clarity and a great deal of color, but with the sound picture of a chamber choir and orchestra.

Charpentier was a very prolific composer, frequently overshadowed by Jean-Baptiste Lully (who was equally famous for the control he exerted over the Parisian musical scene of his time, as for his unfortunate end:  Lully conducted with a large staff, and during a particularly rousing performance, he struck his toe, and the resulting wound became infected and caused his death in 1687).  Like Bach, Charpentier was little-published in his lifetime, though greatly regarded by his contemporaries.  His music has had something of a revival in recent years, and I commend the particularly pioneering work of American conductor and harpsichordist William Christie and his French period instruments group, Les Arts Florissants, to listeners interested in exploring this intriguing repertoire.

Charpentier’s Messe de Minuit pour Nöel or “Midnight Mass for Christmas,” makes ingenius use of popular Nöels or Christmas carols of his time.  This is a practice we might expect of Martin Luther, whose reimaginings of secular songs into sacred contexts are legion and infamous, but it was also in use elsewhere on the continent.  These carols were routinely arranged by French Classic organists (a frequent back-door through which many folk songs found their way into liturgical spaces – indeed, Charpentier instructs the organist to play one of the carols in the midst of the Kyrie), and by the time Charpentier composed the Mass, the carols would have been known well by congregations assembled for the Christmas Eve liturgy.

Listening to the music, itself, one is struck by Charpentier’s brilliance in reworking these carols into pieces purposed for liturgy.  There is certainly an earthy, rustic quality to the music, but Charpentier applies the refiner’s fire to the carols, and they emerge with a remarkable fusion of the sacred and the temporal.  Listeners will note the dotted rhythms and the notes inégales (a kind of French baroque swung eighth note).  This is highly ornamented (with ornaments often improvised by the instrumentalists) music, and Charpentier makes frequent use of text painting to evoke the meaning of the words as he sets them.  In the Gloria, the et in terra pax (“and on earth, peace to humankind”) affects a beautiful yearning for peace, followed by the buoyancy of a celebratory laudamus te (“we praise thee”).  This music frequently shifts rhythmic gears, tempo and texture, which allows Charpentier the flexibility to be quite specific in his text-painting.  You will also hear a slightly Italian influence in this music, as Charpentier spent a few years in Rome as a student of Giacomo Carissimi – I hear slight echoes of renaissance polyphony in the more contrapuntal sections of his music, as well as a slight whiff of Monteverdi.  As such, one might think of Bach and Charpentier as fellow travelers, who both incorporated a wide range of influences in their music, though in ways that differ in terms of compositional practices.  The Mass clocks in at a little over thirty minutes, and I think our audience will find much to appreciate in this gorgeous music.  As I mentioned at the outset, it is tremendously evocative, and it’s a particular joy to imagine the places to which this music will take both performers and audience, alike.

My next post will explore four similarly evocative pieces, the Motets for the time of Christmas by twentieth century master, Francis Poulenc.  They are for unaccompanied choir, and will demonstrate The Choir’s increasing ardor and skill for a capella repertoire.

The 2011 Christmas Concerts have been billed as “Bach, with a French twist,” which I hope is an intriguing notion for members of our audience (it certainly is for the singers!).   Each year, The Choir offers what has become, for many, a holiday tradition:  concerts of Bach’s festive music for Advent and Christmas, concluding with carols (and always ending with Silent Night, sung in German and English, crowned with Gerre Hancock’s ravishing descant for sopranos on the last verse).  Often, the music of other composers is interposed in this mix; in recent years, audiences have been treated to Mendelssohn Christmas motets, Schütz’s Christmas History, cantatas by Buxtehude, and C.P.E. Bach’s delightful setting of the Magnificat.  This year, we’ll be visiting neighboring France, for pieces that look back to Bach’s time, and that look beyond Bach to the twentieth century.  Our French voyage will be bookended by two Bach classics, Cantata No. 40, and the third cantata of the Christmas Oratorio.  

It’s a bit of programming serendipity that, this fall, Bach Choir audiences will have heard two pieces written for the Second Day of Christmas, on which German Lutherans of Bach’s time would have commemorated the feast day of the martyr, St. Stephen.  At the October Bach at Noon, our audience heard Bach’s Cantata No. 57, for the first time in Bethlehem, lovingly sung by Rosa Lamoreaux and Bill Sharp.  You may read my thoughts about that cantata here.  It’s quite a bit more inward and intimate than its sibling, which we’ll be hearing at the Christmas Concerts.

Cantata No. 40 begins with delightful horn fanfares, which dialog with playful string responses.  The parts for horns are bravura in nature – our program annotator, the esteemed Dr. Robin Leaver, notes that Cantata No. 40 marks the first time Bach used them in Leipzig, and that the congregation in attendance was likely shocked at hearing instruments widely regarded as secular in nature in a church.  (The last time we performed this piece, my colleague in the bass section, Peter Young, turned to me as the horns started in an orchestral rehearsal, and with a brilliantly affected “British” accent, proclaimed, “Release the hounds!”  I digress…)

Others have described this as slightly militaristic music, which befits the text, a quote of John’s gospel (3:8), “For this the Son of God appeared, that he might destroy the works of the devil.”  This may be the case, but this is one of the most charming and playful treatments of that theme (more Hogan’s Heroes than Mars, The Bringer of War).  The fugue that follows the initial declamation of the text is quite lyrical, but Bach uses repeated notes and jaunty horns to keep listeners from becoming too comfortable with the soundscape.  It’s a fine line upon which Bach dances: maintaining the joy of Christmastide, while dealing with extremely consequential theological sentiments.

Following the opening is a highly vivid and almost onomatopoetic recitative, inspired by the opening of John’s gospel that explores the paradox of God’s Son being incarnate in the form of an infant. The choir responds with a chorale setting that summarizes a related paradox eloquently:  ”Sin creates suffering; Christ brings joy.”  The inwardness of that reflection is followed by an almost slithering bass aria that asks the devil, “Hellish serpent, are you not afraid?”  This is a powerhouse aria for bass, and listeners who remember Joshua Copeland’s brilliance in the aria Streite, Siege, Starker Held! from Cantata No. 62 in last year’s Christmas Concert (a personal highlight for me) know that he’ll bring the same passion and skill to this one!

In the alto recitative that follows, Bach sets a text that ultimately exhorts the believe to take comfort in the incarnation, but which begins with colorful language about the serpent who dripped venom upon God’s children.  During this dramatic piece, the singer is accompanied by slurring arpeggiated strings, often without the foundation of the basso continuo, creating a slightly unsettled soundscape.  This has an almost operatic quality, with passionate dissonances and vivid text painting.

After that dramatic moment, Bach inserts a chorale that exhorts listeners to shake their heads at the ancient serpent and bid him to flee.  The conditions of the battle begun with the opening chorus are now favoring believers, and Bach follows this chorale with a tenor aria, accompanied by horns, oboes and continuo, that almost seems to evoke a victory dance.  ”Christian children, rejoice!”  This joyful music includes the metaphor of Christians as “chicks” under the wing of Jesus.

Bach concludes this very dramatic and vivid cantata with a beautiful prayer to Jesus to take his followers into his grace with intensifying language, “Freude, Freude über Freude,” Joy, joy beyond joy, ending with with the text “He is the sun of grace.”

About 15 minutes long, this cantata is an absolute gem in Bach’s ouvre, and will provide a fitting overture to the rest of music to follow in the concert.  We have an excellent quartet of soloists for these concerts, including husband and wife, tenor Benjamin Butterfield, and soprano Anna Grimm (what a pairing!), the lovely mezzo-soprano Barbara Hollinshead, and bass-baritone Joshua Copeland.  They’re all singers with great dramatic flair, beautiful clarity, and impeccable sensitivity, and the Christmas Concerts offer an opportunity to hear four remarkably gifted vocal soloists surrounded by the timeless quality of the Bach Choir, and the graceful accompanying of the Bach Festival Orchestra – order your tickets soon!

I’ll continue to post about each of the pieces on the program in the coming days.  Next up, a preview of The Choir’s first foray into the remarkably charming music of one of Bach’s French baroque forbearers, Marc-Antoine Charpentier.  This piece was last heard in the Valley in 2009 in a performance by our friends in the Camerata Singers with the Pennsylvania Sinfonia (and I can’t tell you the last time before that) – it’s a rarely performed treat, and I know our audiences will love it.

If I’ve whet your appetite, you can also read Dr. Ellis Finger’s reflections on the program in the fall issue of the Bach Choir News.