I've got news for you. Bach
did write cantatas for performance during Lent.
Say
what?
Though all instrumentalists were out of service until Easter morning and its explosion of trumpets and D Major, Germans in the Baroque era still employed music for Annunciation on March 25, which is always a happy thing. In that wonderful instance in which Easter landed on April 1, you get - a Palm Sunday cantata! Learned something new, didn't you?
So, if you are going to get away with exciting music before Lent is over, you might as well make it worthwhile and tie in all the Holy Week references imaginable. No, not lop-eared rabbits in baskets. Still, symbols of springtime aside, this piece is overwhelmingly "cute." Hard to articulate unless you are listening, but it is far better than baby animals.
Once again, this is an extremely early Weimar cantata, put together when J.S. Bach was still figuring out his style. A simplified instrumentation of recorder,
concertato and
ripieno violin, two violas, cello, and keyboard render its performance quite feasible, and produce a charming sound. On Emmanuel Music's program notes, Craig Smith describes that the sinfonia has the "sound of early morning about it," which is the most fitting image I can put to it. Welcoming Jesus' procession into Jerusalem, the lower strings pluck while the three soprano instruments alternate a charming dotted rhythm (French overture!), with all picking it up
arco at the end. It is hard not to like this - exactly like Christ's gentle and humble entrance.
Its second movement follows through with Jesus (the bass) responding to the question- "See, I come! - in the Book it is written of me..." then resuming in chant style: "Your will, my God, my God, my God, I do gladly," with an eagerly rippling cello figure underneath. The held cadences on the word "gladly" seem to accentuate it. "My God" is repeated three times - Trinitarian reference?
Using strong triadic forces, the bass, now the role of the firm believer in Christ, sings "Strong love, which, great Son of God, has thrown You from the throne of Your glory," "throwing down" with an octave dominant cadence. Continuing on, "Strong love, that You, for the salvation of the world, might be a Sacrifice which You have prescribed with Your own blood." Unlike several English translations, the German indeed says "presented as a Sacrifice," not "sacrificed." Theologically, this is a necessary distinction. "No man takes (My life) from Me; I lay it down of myself" (John 10:18). At the forementioning of bloodshed, Bach notes "piano" as if disclosing an Old Testament mystery, and cross-motifs emerge in the solo as well as the violin
concertato and jagged continuo.
The alto aria integrates the natural result of sanctification after receiving this salvation, comparing rendering one's life as a "living sacrifice" (Romans 10:2) to the laying down of garments on the Jerusalem road. Outlining many diminished sevenths, the voice and solo flute imitate one another, and at the Andante the "repentant" alto character describes how this spotless garment of body, life (with an extended, breathy melisma) and desires must be subject to the King (going up for a high note in the melodic contour).
The tenor sails confidently through good and bad, illustrated by madly modulating running notes in the cello. "Though the world only scream 'Crucify!' do not let me flee, Lord, from your cross' banner, I find crown and palm here." Crucifixion here, of course, involves fully-dimished sevenths, but also a four-note pattern with 1-2 and 3-4 seconds in the same direction, with 2-3 a third in the opposite direction. "Cross' banner" uses a melodic variation of the fully-diminished seventh intervals. "Crown and palm" straightens out to the sturdiest of arpeggiated thirds.
Looking into the upcoming Passion week, for which Bach would not be able to provide Lenten music, the full choir introduces a fugue on "Jesus, I Will Ponder Now," verse 33, with vorimitation in tenor and bass before the soprano
cantus firmus, then alto. Even the entrance order is cross-shaped!
"Joy" ends each subject with a laughing turn; "pasture" in the next phrase a lively rise and fall. "My soul walks on roses" uses syncopation in all parts to get the "skipping" idea across. This is very hard to catch unless you are following the score closely, but in the alto part preceding the last soprano entrance on the word "sake" (referring to the cross), there is a cross motif.
Walking by faith on Jesus' robe of righteousness, everyone calls out, "Now let us go into the Salem of joy!" in a bright G-Major gigue. Accompanying the King in not only love, but also suffering is shown by a quick alteration to minor, speedily recovering to major in a mere measure. Such is the Christian life under the cross - on the way to heaven all experience earthly sorrow, but in view of this joy it disappears in a moment. The basses have the first entrance in "He goes before and opens the path," before everyone else jumps in at once. Coincidence? Not likely.
Listen for yourself! Have a lovely day, and imagine it's spring (or that you are surrounded in palm trees)
Score: http://imslp.org/imglnks/usimg/a/ad/IMSLP01444-BWV0182.pdf
Translation: http://emmanuelmusic.org/notes_translations/translations_cantata/t_bwv182.htm#pab1_7
Recording: http://imslp.org/imglnks/usimg/a/ad/IMSLP01444-BWV0182.pdf
