CHAPTER 2 BWV 20 O Ewigkeit Du Donnerwort O Eternity; the Sound of Thunder

Chapter 2 BWV 20 O Ewigkeit du Donnerwort

O Eternity; the sound of thunder.

Part 1 Chorus/fantasia--recit (tenor)--aria (tenor)--recit (bass)--aria (bass)--aria (alto)--chorale.

Part 2 Aria (bass)--recit (alto)--duet (alto/tenor)—chorale.

The first cantata of the cycle for the first Sunday after Trinity.

(It is suggested that this essay is read in conjunction with chapters 1, 3, 4 and 5 in order to give a more comprehensive picture of Bach's approach to this cycle.)

The position of this cantata, the first of an uninterrupted sequence of forty great works each commencing with a gigantic chorale fantasia, marks it out to be of special interest. Its placement suggests several fascinating questions. What does it say to the congregation? To God? What may we learn of Bach's development as a composer of church music? And what does it tell us of Bach's intentions and ambitions as a provider of ‘well regulated church music’ as he embarks upon his second year at Leipzig?

One might take the time to compare it with C 75, the first work of the first cycle, heard just over a year previously. Firstly, it can safely be assumed that Bach intended to begin each of his first two cycles with a flourish. Both Cs 75 and 20 are in two parts and both have more than the usual 5-8 movements. They each require strings and oboes, and call upon a trumpet when a more positive character is required. Clearly, in each case Bach was keen to assert himself. Here I am; this is what you can expect from me! And on both occasions came the scarcely concealed message that music would never be the same again at the great Leipzig churches!

Whilst noting the similarities, nevertheless there are a number of important differences. Both works refer to the parable of the rich man whose wealth will not buy his place in heaven; but in C 20, Bach, and his librettist, were clearly more concerned with the themes of eternity, everlasting torments and their implications for humans. For all of the contrasts of rich and poor, joy and sorrow, redeeming faith and destructive disbelief, C 75 never attains the extremes of emotion we find in the later work. C 75 was actually written while Bach was at Cöthen and, like the even earlier C 4, gives us fascinating glimpses into Bach's evolving approaches to text and compositional technique.

The opening choruses of these works make the point clearly. Both have more than one section and contrasting tempi but the assertive dotted rhythms of the later work convey a strength and confidence that contrasts with the reflective and almost regretful wisps of oboe melody in C 75. Similarly, the tortuous melodic lines depicting the torments of human agony in the pits of the damned (tenor and alto arias) have no counterparts in the earlier work. (Further contextual information may be found in vol 3, chapter 17 on C 39, also composed for this day. A more complete study of C 75 is in vol 1, chapter 2). C20 followed the experience of composing, arranging and performing cantatas at the rate of more than one a week for a full year. Bach clearly drew upon that experience from which to embark upon a new and particularly innovative stage of his creative life. And whilst he seldom reused music from the first year in the second, chorales were a part of the heritage of the church and always available for recycling. That which forms the basis of the opening chorus of this cantata had also been used to create the dialogue duet of C 60, a very different movement. The keen student will delight in comparing Bach’s distinctive uses of the same basic material.

PART 1.

The massive opening movement of C 20 is a chorale/fantasia (see chapter 1) which clearly, that of C 75 is not. Additionally, it is an imposing French Overture such as those with which the four Orchestral Suites begin. It has the usual three sections, the first and last displaying assertive, almost aggressive dotted rhythms, separated by a contrapuntal central section.

The text, whether intentionally or not suggests, or at least allows for such a structure. The opening lines bewail the isolation of eternity, the sword of which lacerates the soul. The middle section expresses the personal tragedy of one caught in the maelstrom of unredeemable eternity----I do not know which way to turn! Finally comes an expression of the personal terror which inevitably eventuates from such situations. Infinite eternity-- sorrow and confusion--dread and horror--these are the interlocking themes of the three musical sections which make perfect musical and liturgical sense.

But the remarkable aspect of this movement is the way in which Bach combines the chorale melody with the French Overture. The structure of these fantasias is constricted by the chorale phrases and their tonalities and as we proceed throughout the cycle, we shall notice the endlessly imaginative ways in which Bach surmounts this problem.

The sopranos (supported by trumpet) sing the chorale, traditionally in long notes, above a rather constrained support from the three lower voices. There is no discussion of the melodic material by the altos, tenors and basses, no preparing of the chorale phrases, no richly entwined tapestry of counterpoint such as we will frequently discover in later cantatas. Even in the faster middle section (imitative, but not fugal in the sense that we would normally expect and do, in fact, find in C75) the lower voices are largely homophonic. This may well be because Bach wished the writing to suggest the hammer blows of thunder, the lacerating sword and the attendant terror.

This chorus sets the scene for the smell of the sulphurous fires of eternal Hell which become more explicit in successive movements. But the opening bars are stately and dignified. There is, as yet, no theatrical representation of thunder or the piercing sword; this is a civilized acceptance of the inevitable. The theatrical force and the inevitable torments of hell and damnation are yet to come.

There can be no more striking example of Bach's eclectic musical personality than this first movement. The French Overture, with its connections with opera and the court of Louis IV was the antithesis of traditional, solid German church music exemplified by the traditional motet. It had implications of the worldly, the wealthy and the powerful. Yet here Bach uses it as a vehicle not only to begin his important second cycle, but also to launch the chorale/fantasia structure which would open this and every one of the following thirty-nine cantatas. It could be seen as a breath-taking act of impudence and arrogance but with the wisdom of hindsight, it is, perhaps, more accurate to view it as an example of Bach, the liberated eclectic who was prepared to employ any style, structure, idea or technique appropriate to his needs.

Furthermore, he was not reticent about announcing this in musical and dramatic terms to the world at large. 'See', he seems to be telling his congregations. 'I can do it all!'

(Nevertheless, he took pains in the cantata for the following week (C 2) to revert to a more traditional motet style for the opening chorus).

Furthermore, one notes an interesting and subtle irony. Bach has chosen the French Overture, symbol of courtly power, wealth and influence as the vehicle with which to convey the message that these are the very attributes which will not get us into heaven! The parable of the rich man, unambiguously described in the later alto recitative is, as yet, only implicit. (Students may, incidentally, wish to examine Cs 61, 110, 119, 194 and 97. All contain brilliant and contrasting uses of the French Overture).

And, as mentioned in the previous chapter, further evidence of Bach's long term planning comes from the fact that in the first four cantatas of the cycle he presents the chorale melody in different voices; here in the sopranos, next altos (C 2), tenors (C 7) and basses (C 135). There was no real reason why he should have done this, other than to set himself the type of challenge which seemed to stimulate his imagination and inventiveness. Perhaps it was an implied 'musical contract' with his choir; everyone was to have a piece of the action!

Part 1 of the work seems to have been planned with a very precise sense of order and balance. A recitative and aria for tenor is followed by a recitative and aria for bass. This section closes with an alto aria and the first statement of the chorale which will also conclude Part 2. In C 75 the chorale had been much more richly adorned with a flowing oboe and violin line. Bach does adorn his chorale on occasions in this cycle (see, for example, the added horn obligato in C 1 and the orchestration in C 107) but his preference is usually for the direct four-part setting.

Part 2 has its own (different) balance: aria, recitative, duet and chorale. One wonders why, in a work of this length and complexity containing eight arias and recitatives, Bach did not call upon the soprano as soloist. It is possible that a favoured performer was indisposed. But there is no evidence that he re-wrote any movements in a hurry and in any case it is difficult to believe that Bach spent only a few days composing this work which he must have viewed as a highly significant statement. Even if he had only begun composing it at the beginning of the week of its performance, it beggars belief to suppose that he had not been turning over in his mind both the structure of this piece and the overall cycle strategy for some time. It seems most likely that the decision not to include a soprano aria or recitative was an artistic one, perhaps linked to the general theme of the work. Despite the extrovert major-key nature of the opening movements of each part, this is a work with a sulphurous feel of Satan's caverns of eternal torment and Bach may have felt that the mood was best conveyed through the lower and darker timbres of the other voices. Additionally, all but one of the arias and recitatives in Part 1 are in the minor modes thus supporting this speculation. Finally, it may be for similar reasons that Bach decided not to employ his festive (and available) trumpet independently in the first movement.

Of note in the opening chorus is the flickering repeated figure on oboes (then strings) which is heard four times against the first two choral entries, never to reappear (bars 11, 17, 23 and 27). Bach seldom uses his material in such a cavalier way and his purpose was certainly imagic, possibly suggesting the merest hint of the flickering flames of Hell. The contrapuntal writing for orchestra in the middle section has an artistic sense of 'purposelessness' suggesting a ‘not knowing’ which way to turn as described in the text. Doubtless this is why Bach rejected a stricter fugal format; a fugue, at least a Bach fugue, might have had too great a sense of purpose and direction!

The movement ends with a return to the dotted rhythms in voices and instruments flickering around the last two chorale phrases. But this is no lazy da capo repeat but a complete rewriting of the opening material, disjunct intervals and minor harmonies suggesting the fear of the trembling heart. Dürr (p 391) draws our attention to a number of words vividly painted in the music e.g. Ewigkeit----eternity, Donnerwort----word of thunder, erschrocken----terrified.

The tenor secco recitative muses on the theme of eternal damnation and the perpetual misery from which there is no escape; earthly misfortunes may be finite but pain and punishment go on forever. The commonly occurring Lutheran idea of continuous torment suffered for an infinite period is now established as a major theme of the cantata. The painting of personal distress on the words 'ach! Aber ach!'----alas, alas----pierces the soul.

The tenor aria is extraordinary. The concept of eternal torment, noted in the first movement has now become explicit. Bach seeks to convey both the ponderousness of time, which hangs around us forever, and the agonies of the flames of hell. Bach's painting of physical and metaphorical imagery here is worth concentrating upon for a moment as a basis for further discoveries of this kind throughout the cycle.

The cumbersome, grinding string quavers doubtless represent the inexorable nature of eternal, ponderous time as do, in a different way, the tenor's long notes. The first tenor phrase fights its way upward, but, inevitably, is dragged back into the pits of fire. The melodic lines are packed with downward, drooping inflections indicating sighing and lamentation. Flowing semi-quavers emerge on the word 'flammen'----flames (from bar 43). Even the middle section, frequently used by Bach to offer a contrasting view or mood, only reinforces the feeling of dread as the heart quakes with terror at the thought of eternal torment. There is little vestige of hope for sinners here!

The long bass recitative adds little to the narrative but rather dramatically reinforces the concept of eternal misery. Much of the writing is high in the vocal range conveying a tension and a sense of the apprehension associated with this scenario. The fundamental image is one of never-ending torment, lasting as many years as there are blades of grass----time cannot be calculated and even then it revolves upon itself simply to begin again. The concept of ‘eternity upon eternity’ is clearly intended to terrify the uncommitted! But the following bass aria, returning as it does to the major mode largely abandoned since the opening chorus, offers some hope: ‘God is just, as are his decreed, lasting punishments' the singer declaims; and it is no coincidence that this is the bass, traditionally employed as the voice of God----Take heed of this message, Oh Child of Man!

This da capo aria is surprisingly upbeat, almost jolly, and it may be explained in two ways. Firstly it is not a pessimistic notion to proclaim the justice of the Lord; this is, or should be, a matter for rejoicing. But Bach is always aware of the need for musical balance and here he finds his point of moderation. A lengthy cantata cannot sustain an unremitting outpouring of wretchedness, pessimism and terror; there must be some light and contrast. However, it is interesting that Bach maintains a slightly more somber sound quality through the choice of three oboes rather than what could have been the lighter, brighter qualities of flutes.

But the respite is temporary. The alto aria plunges back into the wretchedness of the sinner's condition----Save yourself from the sulphurous pits, flee Satan and free yourself from sin---- is the proclaimed message and the uneven phrase lengths and strangely halting rhythms convey it with awesome conviction. Rather enigmatic is the long, possibly too long for the balance of the movement, instrumental coda. Is this intended to allow the congregation a few moments of reflection upon the awesomeness of the message?

Or is it a sound picture of the desolate landscape of hell where the sinner’s soul is tormented by death itself?

The chorale is sturdily reflective, the first phrase climbing upwards through a full octave overtly suggesting the ‘God who dwells above the clouds’. The torments, we are told, will endure as long as God exists. But the mood is one of calm acceptance rather than a further reinforcement of the images of damnation. There are no additional instrumental parts, trumpet oboes and strings resignedly doubling the voices.

PART 2.

This begins with an extrovert wakeup call----rouse yourselves while you can before the last trumpet sounds; rouse yourselves from your graves and prepare for judgment! The trumpet is explicitly mentioned in the text but Bach's use of it is multifaceted. It begins with a fanfare which recalls the dotted rhythms from the opening French Overture, another example of Bach's structural overview of the work. It suggests the power and primacy of the Lord. And finally it echoes the dramatic sound of the very instrument that rouses us from our graves on the Day of Judgment.

This, the second and final aria in a major key, also helps to restore the balance between unrelenting Lutheran sin and Bach's natural sense of optimistic redemption. There is joy in this movement and relief at the realization that salvation is both possible and attainable. The optimism is conveyed musically through a combination of the energizing dotted rhythms, the noble trumpet and the violin scales, always rising, never descending.

The alto recitative refers specifically to the parable of the rich man unable, through his worldly acquisitions, to gain access to heaven. This theme was implied before but it has now become explicit----forsake worldly pleasures and repent, for this might be your last day on earth. Note the striding bass line in the opening bars. Yet again the dotted rhythms remind us of the French Overture and they convey a sense of the hollow power, pride and vanity of the wealthy.

To what extent might such ideas have exercised Bach's mind on his many encounters with the rich and powerful, notably that a generation later, with Frederick the Great? Did they impinge at all upon the thoughts of his well-to-do congregations?

The penultimate movement is a ritornello aria for alto and tenor. This is the first of nearly twenty magnificent duets in this cycle. Indeed, we will discover a number of examples where the duet seems to stand out as the most memorable of a cantata's several movements.

Bach's genius here is to combine two apparently contradictory ideas: that of childlike innocence, contrasted against the barbaric pain inflicted as a consequence of sin. Bach does this with a confidence, technical assurance and aplomb that is breathtaking. As a consequence, this duet may be viewed as the keystone of the whole cantata----Child of Man, relinquish sin so that you are not eternally tormented----remember the rich man who may not even be permitted his droplets of water.

The opening instrumental bass figure is bizarrely threatening and still rooted in the somber minor mode. The initial vocal phrases are very different in character; simple, unsophisticated and childlike. But as the text moves to consider the gnashing of teeth, infinite pain and the predicament of the deluded rich man, even the vocal writing becomes tortuous. The word ‘Qual’----torment---- is extended and convoluted (from bar 55) only to be repeated (from bar 72) and further intensified by the powerfully expressive falling chromatic phrases.

There is still room, however, for a final, vivid musical-picture, the semi-quaver vocal phrase depicting flowing water----'Wasser' (bars 86-7). Life-giving water is present, but the sinful cannot reach it and the rich cannot buy it.

It is a movement of great complexity and subtlety. Every bar is an exquisitely wrought gem.

The final chorale is simply harmonized and the congregation may have joined in; we do not know what the custom was. Available instruments double the vocal lines, as is common practice. The text largely repeats the words and themes of the opening chorus; but now there is hope----time may have no end and I know not where to turn---- nevertheless take me when it pleases You. Thus this arresting cantata concludes on a note of resignation and acceptance and with a humble prayer for Jesus to receive us.

One can only wonder whether, in this moment of reflection, the members of Bach's congregation had any insight as to what was in store for them over the following weeks!

LINK: http://www.bach-cantatas.com/BWV20.htm