Martin Haselböck to play first modern performance of newly discovered Bach work

During his career Joel Kuznik has served as a college organist and professor, a church musician, a pastor, and as a business executive on Fifth Avenue, Wall Street, and at MetLife. After several years of retirement from business, he resumed writing for professional journals, something he had done since his college days. After attending the Bachfest 2003 in Leipzig, he again began writing articles and reviews. With over 60 pieces in print ranging from reviews of concerts and festivals, travelogues, books on church music, concert hall organs, CDs and DVDs, he was recognized and named to the Music Critics Association of North America (MCANA) in May 2005. He is also a member of the American Bach Society and serves on the board of the Bach Vespers at Holy Trinity in New York City, where he has lived for 32 years. His organ teachers were Austin C. Lovelace, Frederick Swann, Ronald Arnatt, David Craighead, Jean Langlais, Marie-Madeleine Duruflé-Chevalier, and Anton Heiller. As a member of the AGO, he has served as dean of the Ft. Wayne chapter, on the executive board of the New York City chapter, and on the national financial board. He holds a BA summa cum laude from Concordia Sr. College (formerly at Ft. Wayne), a Min.Div and STM from Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, and a MM from Eastman School of Music.

Latest Bach manuscript discovery:
Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält, BWV 1128
The discovery of a Bach manuscript always raises curiosity and excites expectant interest. This latest work, an organ chorale fantasia just discovered in March, is a reminder that new revelations can come at any time from any source.
Bach’s copy of the Calov Bible was found in an attic in Frankenmuth, Michigan in 1934, but forgotten until after WWII, in 1962. More recently in 1999, after a 20-year detective hunt worthy of a spy mystery and with a tip from an East German librarian, Christian Wolff tracked down C.P.E. Bach’s estate, with 5,100 musical manuscripts, to Kiev. Originally in the Berlin State Library, the Russian army absconded with this treasure trove of manuscripts after the war. Included were works by Johann Sebastian, among which were his last work, a motet he apparently prepared for his own funeral.
In 2004 an aria by Bach was found in Weimar in a box of birthday cards among holdings of the Anna Amalia Library, just months before it was destroyed by fire. Two years later in 2006 from the same Weimar library, researchers also found Bach’s oldest manuscripts in his own hand: organ works by Buxtehude and Reinken he copied at the age of fifteen. Most recently in March of 2008, a newly discovered organ work was found in an estate sale in Leipzig, in a sense, right under the nose of the musicians at St. Thomas!
This is a double review. The first discusses the organ score and reveals a fascinating history of teacher-student transmission, estate sales, alert and not-so-alert librarians, savvy editors, guesswork and unanswered questions. Much like studies in genealogy, one can trace documented history back only so far and, in this case, only to the mid-nineteenth century, 100 years after Bach. The second review on the CD, featuring both the organ fantasia and the cantata based on the same chorale, was released on June 13, 2008 at the opening concert of the Leipzig Bachfest and shares Ullrich Böhme’s experience of studying and preparing a first performance of a Bach work. How many have had that opportunity!
Obviously this is not the end of the story. No doubt surprises and discoveries still await detection by sharp-sighted scholars and through pure serendipity.

Bach, Johann Sebastian, Choralfantasie für Orgel [2 Manuale und Pedal] über “Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält,” BWV 1128, First Edition, edited by Stephan Blaut and Michael Pacholke with a foreword by Hans-Joachim Schulze. 2008, Ortus Musikverlag, Kassel, 24 pp., €13.50; <www.ortus-musikverlag.de/&gt;.

Contents
Prologue by Schulze, musicologist and former director of the Bach-Archiv Leipzig. Critical report on Source A (Halle, Martin Luther University, University-State Library of Sachsen-Anhalt, with signature) and Source B (Leipzig, Bach-Archiv, no signature) with score variants noted. Chorale melody from Wittenberg (1533, perhaps 1529) and eight-verse text by Justus Jonas (1493–1555) based on Psalm 124. Facsimiles of cover page and first page of musical score. Critical edition, based on Source A: 85 bars, pp. 1–9.

History
How is it that an organ work by Bach was just discovered and authenticated March 15, 2008 after it had passed through so many hands, including collectors, musicians, editors and auction houses?
According to Schulze’s foreword, this is what is known to date. The first public record of this chorale fantasia is 1845, almost 100 years after Bach’s death, listed among organ pieces by “Sebastian Bach” in the estate auction for Johann Nicolaus Julius Kötschau (1788–1845), once organist at St. Mary’s in Halle/Salle. According to public record, he acquired the pieces in an 1814 auction along with the “Clavier-Büchlein of Wilhelm Friedemann” (1720), Bach’s son and once an organist in Halle, who had passed the scores on to his distant relative and student Johann Christian (1743–1814), known as the “Clavier-Bach.” Kötschau, who apparently was reluctant to share his prize collection, eventually relented, first loaning it to Mendelssohn (1840) and then Leipzig publishers C. F. Peters (1843). However, there is no evidence that anyone recognized the significance of what they saw.
In the 1845 auction of Kötschau’s estate, the manuscript, along with other Bach works, was acquired by Friedrich August Gotthold (1778–1858), a former member of the Sing-Akademie Berlin and then director of the Collegium in Königsberg, East Prussia. In 1852, in order to preserve his collection, he donated it to the Königsberg Library, but it only drew attention 25 years later when Joseph Müller, in spite of opposition from superiors, prepared a catalogue, which on p. 93 lists “24 books of organ compositions by J. S. Bach,” of which fascicle No. 5 lists “Fantasia Sopra il Corale ‘Wo Gott der Herr nicht bey uns hält’ pro Organo à 2 Clav. e Pedale.”
This got the attention of Wilhelm Rust (1822–1892), who had it sent on a library loan to Berlin, where he copied it. This transcription of September 8, 1877 has become “Source A” of this edition, and it is unknown whether Rust, as editor of 26 volumes of the 46-volume Bach-Gesamtausgabe, intended to include it. He resigned over conflicts, particularly with Philipp Spitta, but got even in 1878, in a sense, by sharing the composition with Spitta’s rival Carl Hermann Bittner, whose Vol. IV of his second edition of
“J. S. Bach” (Dresden 1880 / Berlin 1881) includes “141. Wo Gott der Herr nicht bey uns hält. Fantasia sopra il Chorale G-moll. (Königsberger Bibliothek.)” For whatever reason the chorale fantasia was not included in the Gesamtausgabe, so Wolfgang Schmieder in his Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis (Leipzig 1950) put a fragment of it in an appendix (BWV Anh. II 71).
After Rust’s death in 1892, a large part of his collection went to his student, Erich Prieger (1849–1913), who wrote an extensive essay in 1885 on “Wilhelm Rust and His Bach Edition.” Prieger’s collection in turn was put up for auction after WW I in three sections, one of which went in 1924 to the Cologne book dealer M. Lempertz and refers to many copies of “Bachiana” from the 18th and 19th centuries, including in Lot No. 157 with Rust’s collection of manuscripts.
In summary, the transmission was from Wilhelm Friedemann to Johann Christian to Kötschau, and then from Gotthold to the Königsberg Library to Rust to Prieger, and ultimately from Cologne to . . . .

Discovery
When on March 15, 2008 the Leipzig auction firm of Johannes Wend offered Lot No. 153 with “manuscripts from the estate of Wilhelm Rust. Mostly compositions of his own or arrangements of works by Bach . . . ,” no one could have anticipated that this included parts of Prieger’s collection and the chorale fantasia BWV Anh. II 71. The Rust items were acquired by the University-State Museum of Halle/Salle, and finally due to the fastidious work of two editors, Stephan Blaut and Michael Pacholke of Halle University, the chorale fantasia was authenticated and has become BWV 1128!
This edition is based on two 19th-century manuscripts: “Source A” by Rust and “Source B,” a copy made by Ernst Naumann sometime after 1890 in the collection of the Bach-Archiv Leipzig. Researchers, according to Schulze, are still hopeful that Kötschau’s copy survived WW II and is still to be found, perhaps in a Russian library.
On June 13, 2008, Ullrich Böhme, organist, St. Thomas, played the first Leipzig performance of BWV 1128 at the opening concert of the Bachfest, which included Bach’s Cantata 178 on the same chorale, sung by the St. Thomas Choir. The same day a CD by Rondeau Production with both compositions and works by Rust was released. The score by Ortus was published on June 10, showing how rapidly new works can be distributed worldwide.
The chorale still exists in German hymnals, but apparently has not survived in American Lutheran usage. The work, a large-scale fantasia believed to date from 1705–1710, is of moderate difficulty in four contrapuntal voices scored for Rückpositiv, Oberwerk and Pedal. After an introductory section, the ornamented chorale appears in the R.H. beginning with bar 12, proceeding verse by verse with interludes, chromaticism and echo sections. It concludes with a coda in a flurry typical of stylus phantasticus, all of which should make this “new work” very exciting indeed for Bach fans.

Bach, Johann Sebastian, Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält. The Newly Discovered Organ Work: Choralefantasia BWV 1128. Organ and choral works by Ammerbach, J. S. Bach, Rust, and Schein. Ullrich Böhme, organist, on the Bach Organ at Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church. St. Thomas Choir with the Gewandhaus Orchestra; Georg Christoph Biller, cantor and conductor. 2008, Rondeau Production ROP6023, 50 minutes, €15.95; brochure 39 pp.; <http://www.rondeau.de/&gt;.
Imagine being the organist of St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, picking up the newspaper on March 16, 2008 and reading the headline, “Undiscovered Organ Work by Johann Sebastian Bach Found in Halle.” So Ullrich Böhme begins his very personal essay, “From Mühlhausen to St. Thomas in Leipzig” (brochure, pp. 6–7). He was further intrigued when he learned the work had been found among scores belonging to a predecessor at St. Thomas, Wilhelm Rust (organist, then cantor 1878–1892), and purchased for 2,500 euros by two scholars from nearby University of Halle. The paper claimed they “snatched away a true sensation from Leipzig,” when in fact the chorale had a close connection to Halle. The melody of the chorale had been written by Justus Jonas, a friend of Luther and the reformer of Halle serving as pastor of St. Mary’s.
The Bach-Archiv did not have a copy of the piece, but by April 28 Böhme received the score from the publisher, Ortus. He spent the next day at home studying and practicing, and then on evening of April 30 he played the work on the Bach Organ at St. Thomas, experimenting with tempos and registrations. It is probable that Bach played this piece himself, but he also may have given it to one of his sons or students to play on July 30, 1724 as a prelude to the Cantata BWV 178 on the same chorale for the eighth Sunday after Trinity. Böhme believes this is confirmed because in Bach’s time the choir and orchestra performed in the lower “Kammerton,” whereas the organs at St. Thomas were tuned a step higher in “Chorton,” so the pitches g- and a-minor match.
The work, a chorale fantasia, reflects influence of the North German composers Buxtehude, Reinken, and Bruhns. Three other examples of this genre by Bach are heard on the CD: the familiar Ein feste Burg (BWV 720), Christ lag in Todesbanden (BWV 718), and Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern (BWV 739).
There is only one organ that Bach played (including those in Lübeck and Hanover) for which BWV 1128 could have been written because of the requirements for a Rückpositiv, Oberwerk, Pedal and the extent of the manual ranges. That is the Wender organ at St. Blasius in Mühlhausen, where Bach served between 1707 and 1708. The original organ has not survived, but a copy with the same specification was built in the late 1950s.
Additional compositions on the chorale, all by former St. Thomas organists or cantors, are a Tabulatur by Ammerbach (organist, 1550–1597); duet by St. Thomas Choir Boys from Opella nova by Johann Schein (cantor, 1616–1630); and Cantata BWV 178 by J. S. Bach (cantor, 1723–1750). Also included are two pieces by Wilhelm Rust (organist, 1878–80 and cantor, 1880–1892): Motet for Two Four-Voiced Choirs, op. 40, on “Aus der Tiefe ruf ich, Herr, zu dir” and an organ fantasia, op. 40/3 on “Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend.”
The handsome brochure is replete with photos and information in addition to Böhme’s personal account: fascinating program notes by Martin Petzoldt (Head of the Neue Bachgesellschaft and Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Leipzig); cantata text for BWV 178; biographies for Böhme, Biller, Susanne Krumbiegel (alto), Martin Petzold (tenor), and Mathias Weichert (bass); background on the St. Thomas Choir and Gewandhaus Orchestra; and finally the specification and history of the 2000 Bach Organ by Gerald Woehl.
What is eminently apparent in these compositions and performances is a devotional consciousness of the text and the earnest intent to reflect its meaning. The performers are all steeped in the Bach milieu and tradition, performing Bach week after week, year after year in worship and concert. Böhme’s playing is equally elegant and eloquent, ever confident, yet always sensitive to the chorale text, realizing the Lutheran approach, which is never performance for its own sake, but music as a servant of theology and worship. While this CD largely features organ music and Böhme’s extraordinary playing, the other performers—St. Thomas Choir and Gewandhaus Orchestra under Cantor Georg Christoph Biller—are, as expected, exceptional. This CD and its brochure should certainly pique the interest, as Bach would say, of both “Kenner und Liebhaber” (professionals and music lovers).

Thanks to Ullrich Böhme, Organist, St. Thomas Church, Leipzig, who provided invaluable information, including contacts for getting the score and the CD within ten days of its first performance in Leipzig on June 13 and providing the specification of the Wender organ in Mühlhausen.

Musical examples used with permission from the publisher ortus musikverlag.

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song, are available from Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts.
Lisa Byers received master’s degrees in music education and organ performance from the University of Michigan, and a J.D. from the University of Toledo, Ohio. She is retired from teaching music in the Jefferson Public Schools in Monroe, Michigan, as well as from her position as organist/choir director at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Tecumseh, Michigan. She subs as organist in the Monroe area.
Photo credit: Bela Fehe

The University of Michigan 49th Conference on Organ Music was dedicated to the memory of Robert Glasgow, brilliant organist and much loved professor of organ at the University of Michigan. The conference was truly a celebration of his life as a scholar, performer, and teacher. His raison d’être was music—organ music of soaring melodies and transcendent harmonies. He shared his passion with his students and has left a legacy that can be kept alive through generations of students who instill in their students his ideas.
During the conference, a wide variety of lectures were presented that reflected years of research, along with performances of four centuries of organ music. The conference was international in scope, with lecturers and performers from Germany, Italy, Hungary, Canada as well as the U.S. The themes of the conference focused on the influences of J. S. Bach and Mendelssohn’s role in arousing public interest in Bach’s music.

Sunday opening events
The initial event was an afternoon “Festival of Hymns” presented by the UM School of Music, Theatre, and Dance and the American Guild of Organists Ann Arbor chapter. Led by organist-director Michael Burkhardt, it featured the Eastern Michigan University Brass Ensemble, the Detroit Handbell Ensemble, and the Ann Arbor Area Chorus. Special care was taken to choose, coordinate, and connect music by Bach, Mendelssohn, and Charles Wesley. Many hymn verses and arrangement variations kept the presentation musically interesting and enjoyable. Dr. Burkhardt was masterful in his organ solos, accompaniments, improvisations, conducting, and composing. His leadership from the console was met with great enthusiasm from the appreciative, participating audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Sunday evening’s organ recital program featured music of Spain and France performed by musicians from the University of Michigan’s Historic Organ Tour 56 to Catalonia and France. Janice Feher opened with an excerpt from a Soler sonata. Gale Kramer performed the “Allegro Vivace” from Widor’s Symphony V, followed by Joanne V. Clark’s rendering of the “Adagio” from Widor’s Symphony VI. Mary Morse sang the versets of a Dandrieu Magnificat for which Christine Chun performed the alternate versets. Timothy Huth played a section from Tournemire’s In Festo Pentecostes, and Paul Merritt closed the program with the Dubois Toccata. The various composition styles, registrations, and favorable interpretations performed excellently and sensitively on the Hill Auditorium organ were well received and greatly acknowledged by the audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)

Monday, October 5
Jason Branham, a doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, set the stage for celebrating not only Mendelssohn’s two hundredth birthday but also his profound influence in bringing the forgotten music of J. S. Bach to the attention of Berlin and consequently to Western society. Branham’s program was a reprise of Mendelssohn’s Bach recital presented at St. Thomas-Kirche in Leipzig in 1840, performed to raise money to erect a monument to Bach in Leipzig: Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552; Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543; Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582; Pastoral in F Major, BWV 590; and Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565. Branham’s performance was exciting and earned him thunderous applause.
Christoph Wolff, Professor of Musicology at Harvard, eminent Bach scholar, and author of Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician, gave four illuminating lectures during the conference. In his first lecture, “J. S. Bach the Organist—Recent Research,” he presented arguments supporting Bach’s authorship of the D-minor Toccata and Fugue, BWV 565, dated 1703. Peter Williams, who questioned Bach’s authorship in the 1980s, maintained that such a piece could not have been composed by Bach before 1730. Wolff presented convincing arguments based on an analysis of both the oldest manuscripts and the music itself. He also drew a connection to the discovery in 2008 of Bach’s Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält, BWV 1128, in the library of Halle University. The work is a large free fantasia dated ca. 1705, with compositional features shared by the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Wolff maintained that Bach, whose organ technique was formidable at an early age, composed the D-minor Toccata and Fugue to dazzle his audience with improvisatory passages borrowed from pieces like Buxtehude’s D-minor Toccata. Wolff concluded that this work was written as a showpiece for Bach himself and not intended to be circulated and copied by his pupils; hence only one copy exists, in the hand of Johannes Ringk, dated 1730.
Michael Barone’s handout listing Mendelssohn recordings was a testimony to his impressive knowledge of recorded organ music. Of the many Mendelssohn pieces he played, the most compelling was a 1973 recording of Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, op. 25, played by Robert B. Pitman, piano, and George Lamphere, organ, at the Methuen Music Hall (Pipedreams CD-1002; live performance). The playing was stunning in its youthful exuberance and virtuosity.
Professor Wolff showed images of historical organs and churches connected to Bach, many of which unfortunately no longer exist, in his lecture “Silbermann and Others—The World of Bach Organs.” The most riveting information regarding performance practice of the organ in Bach cantatas came from a view of the original Mülhausen balcony. The balcony was large enough to accommodate strings, woodwinds, brass, and choir; kettle drums were fixed onto the railings overlooking the audience. The choir stood below the instruments. The large organ was used—not a little Positiv. A performance incorporating this practice is on John Eliot Gardner’s recording, Bach Cantata Pilgrimage, using the Altenburg organ in Cantata 146.
James Kibbie, Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, announced that his recordings of the complete organ works of Bach, performed on historical instruments in Germany, can be found at the website <blockmrecords.org>. The project is supported by a gift from Dr. Barbara Sloat in honor of her late husband J. Barry Sloat. Additional details are available at <www.blockmrecords.org/bach&gt;.
Istvan Ruppert is Dean and Professor of Organ in the Department of Music of the Szechenyi University in Gyor, Hungary, and is also an organ professor at the Ferenc Liszt Academy of Music. His program included music by Mendelssohn, Karg-Elert, Max Reger, Liszt, and three Hungarian composers. He has formidable technique and played with great energy and abandon. It was refreshing to hear intriguing and unknown compositions by Frigyes Hidas, Zsolt Gárdonyi, and Istvan Koloss. The humor in Gárdonyi’s Mozart Changes was appreciated. Ruppert is a real enthusiast in sharing music by Hungarian composers by graciously offering to send scores to those who wished to have them.

October 6
Prof. Wolff pointed out in his lecture “Bach’s Organ Music—From 1750 to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy” that Bach’s Clavier Übung III offered a textbook of organ playing. Wolff lamented that Mendelssohn’s inclusion of historical music by Bach, Handel, Mozart, and Haydn into the Gewandhaus concerts had unfortunate consequences in our concert programs today. While only five percent of his concerts were devoted to “historical composers,” the remaining works were by contemporary composers, himself, Liszt, Schumann, and Schubert. Today our programs are mainly old music, with five percent devoted to new music.
Susanne Diederich received a PhD from Tübingen University. Her dissertation, “Original instructions of registration for French organ music in the 17th and 18th centuries: Relations between organ building and organ music during the time of Louis XIV,” represents some of the ground-breaking research on French Classical organs; it was published by Bärenreiter in 1975. In her lecture, “The Classical French Organ, Its Music and the French Influence on Bach’s Organ Composition,” Diederich pointed out that the French Classical organ was complete by 1665, and Guillaume Nivers’ First Organ Book of 1665 contained the first description of all the stops. Her handout was especially informative in showing how Bach’s table of ornaments in his Klavierbüchlein für Wilhelm
Friedemann reflected his assimilation of ornament tables by Raison, 1688, Boyvin, 1689, and Couperin, 1690. Robert Luther, organist emeritus of Zion Lutheran Church in Anoka, Minnesota, played movements from Guilain’s Second Suite, and Christopher Urbiel, doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, played movements from de Grigny’s Veni Creator, Marchand’s Livre d’orgue Book I, and Bach’s Fantaisie, BWV 542, to illustrate features Bach borrowed from the French Classical repertoire.
Seth Nelson received his DMA in organ performance from the University of Michigan in 2003; he is organist at the First Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas, and accompanist for the San Antonio Choral Society and the Trinity University Choir. His lecture/recital, “Music of the Calvinist Reformation: Introducing John Calvin’s Theology of Music,” included an explanation of why Calvin did not approve of the use of the organ in services. The reasons were many: the Old Testament mentioned its use, thus it is not appropriate to use an old instrument in the new age; it is wrong to imitate the Roman Church; it is an unnecessary aid; it is too distracting; it is against Paul’s teaching, “Praise should be in all one tongue.” The highlight of the program was hearing Seth Nelson’s spirited playing of Paul Manz’s introduction to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 42 and Michael Burkhardt’s introduction and interlude to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 134.
The evening concert featured Mendelssohn’s six organ sonatas played by James Hammann, chair of the music department of the University of New Orleans. It was a rare treat to hear these technically demanding pieces all played at one sitting. Dr. Hammann’s years of investment in this music is apparent. His recording of Mendelssohn’s organ works on the 1785 Stumm organ in St. Ulrich’s Church in Neckargemünd is available on the Raven label.

October 7
Tuesday morning began with the annually anticipated narrated photographic summary of European organs presented by Janice and Bela Feher. This year featured the UM Historic Organ Tour 56 to Northern Spain and France. The PowerPoint presentation included at least 600 photographs of organs in 35 religious locations and the Grenzing organ factory in Barcelona. The organs dated from 1522 to 1890 and included builders Dom Bedos, François-Henry, Louis-Alexandre, Clicquot, Cavaillé family, Cavaillé-Coll, Moucherel, and Scherrer. The photos showed views of cases, consoles, mechanical works, stained glass windows, altar pieces, sacred art, and other enhancements. The Fehers provided a written list with detailed information for each picture. Their first book, with Marilyn Mason, is available by mail order from <Blurb.com>. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Stephen Morris is a lecturer in music at Baylor University, Waco, Texas; organist-choirmaster and director of music ministries at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit in Houston, Texas; and maintains a studio as a teacher of singing, largely concentrating on early adolescent female voices. His presentation, “Acclaim, Slander, and Renaissance: An Historical Perspective on Mendelssohn,” incorporated visual images and music. Among the lesser-known facts is that Mendelssohn was admired and befriended by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. They chose Mendelssohn’s March from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” for their daughter’s wedding. It became a favorite for productions of Shakespeare throughout Europe. However, due to anti-Semitism fueled by Richard Wagner, Mendelssohn’s March was banned by Nazi Germany, and ten other composers were commissioned to replace it. Ironically, the Nazis preferred Bach above all composers, yet they never would have known about him without Mendelssohn. Morris noted that there is a great wealth of information on Mendelssohn research at <www.
themendelssohnproject.org>.
Professor Wolff concluded his Bach-Mendelssohn lectures with a fascinating presentation, “The Pre-History of Mendelssohn’s Performances of the St. Matthew Passion.” He described Sarah Itzig Levy, Mendelssohn’s maternal great aunt and a famous harpsichordist, as the moving force who began the revival of
J.S. Bach’s music. She introduced family members and friends to many of Bach’s works. She studied with W.F. Bach and commissioned C.P.E. Bach to write what turned out to be his last concerto: one for harpsichord, fortepiano, and orchestra. She regularly performed in weekly gatherings in her salon as soloist with an orchestra from 1774–1784. In 1823 Mendelssohn was given a copy of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion by his grandmother, Bella Salomon, Sara Levy’s sister. It took Mendelssohn five years to persuade his teacher, Carl Friedrich Zelter, to have the Singakademie of Berlin perform it. The 19-year-old Mendelssohn conducted Bach’s St. Matthew Passion to a packed audience that included the Prussian king. This performance enthralled the audience and thus began J. S. Bach’s reentry into the hearts of German people and to the world at large. Mendelssohn continued conducting performances of the St. Matthew Passion when he became director of the Gewandhaus in Leipzig in 1834, at the age of twenty-six. He re-orchestrated it, shortened some pieces, omitted some arias, and introduced the practice of having the chorale Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden sung a cappella. That score and the performing parts are now in the Bodleian Library.
Eugenio Fagiani, resident organist at St. Michael the Archangel Catholic Church in Bergamo, played a recital at Hill Auditorium featuring Italian composers Filippo Capocci, Oreste Ravanello, Marco Enrico Bossi, and four of his own compositions. His playing was impeccable, and his compositions reflect the influence of one of his teachers, Naji Hakim, in style and use of exotic sounds and feisty, driving rhythms. His Victimae Paschali Laudes, op. 96, has a wide variety of striking timbres, ranging from a clarinet plus mutation stops to a big-band sound. His creativity as a composer was undeniable in his Festive Prelude, op. 99b, composed for this conference. Here the pedal occasionally sounded like percussive drums. The work sizzled with energy and ended in a fiery toccata. Fagiani played “Joke,” another of his compositions, as an encore. The audience enjoyed his quotations from J. S. Bach and John Lennon. More can be learned about this impressive composer/organist at his website:
<www.eugeniomariafagiani.com&gt;.
Michele Johns, Adjunct Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, presented an interesting lecture on the changes of taste reflected in hymnals from four denominations over the past forty years. She noted that the texts have become more gender inclusive, hymns in foreign languages are included (“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” appears in four languages in the Presbyterian Hymnal), and there is greater variety in styles from “pantyhose music”—one size fits all—to Taizé folk melodies; she proved her point that in today’s hymnals there is “Something Old, Something New.”
One of the most exciting recitals of the conference was played by Aaron Tan, a student of Marilyn Mason and a graduate student in the School of Engineering at the University of Michigan, organist/choirmaster at the First Presbyterian Church in Ypsilanti, and director of the Ypsilanti Pipe Organ Festival. His memorized recital shimmered with grace and energy: Alleluyas by Simon Preston; Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3, by Marcel Dupré; Sicilienne from Suite, op. 5, by Maurice Duruflé; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, by J. S. Bach; Moto ostinato from Sunday Music by Petr Eben; Naïades and Final from Symphony No. 6 by Louis Vierne. The audience gave him a standing ovation.
The concluding recital was played in Hill Auditorium in memory of Robert Glasgow by some of his former students. The program was a beautiful tribute to his life—a life devoted to the study, performance and teaching of organ music, especially the music of Franck, Mendelssohn, Vierne, Widor, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms. The performers brought with them some of his spirit, some of his light, some of his joy in creating something that puts us in another dimension. His attention to the minutest detail of the score, his total commitment to breathing life into each phrase was mirrored in these performers:
Mark Toews, director of music, Lawrence Park Community Church, Toronto, past president, Royal Canadian College of Organists, Variations de Concert, op. 1 by Joseph Bonnet; Ronald Krebs, vice president, Reuter Organ Company, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, op. 122, no. 11, Fugue in A-flat Minor, WoO8, by Johannes Brahms; David Palmer, Professor Emeritus, School of Music, University of Windsor, organist and choir director, All Saints’ Church, Windsor, Ontario, L’Apparition du Christ ressuscité a Marie-Madeleine by Olivier Messiaen; Joanne Vollendorf Clark, Chair of the Music Department, Marygrove College, Detroit, minister of music, Hartford Memorial Baptist Church, Detroit, Pastorale, op. 26, by Alexandre Guilmant; Charles Miller, minister of music and organist, National City Christian Church, Washington, D.C., Pièce héroïque by César Franck; Joseph Jackson, organist, First Presbyterian Church, Royal Oak, Michigan, “Air with Variations” from Suite for Organ by Leo Sowerby; and Jeremy David Tarrant, organist and choirmaster, the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit, Andantino, op. 51, no. 2, and Carillon de Westminster, op. 54, no. 6, by Louis Vierne.
Professor Marilyn Mason made the 49th Conference on Organ Music at the University of Michigan a reality. She invested countless hours of planning and organizing into making it happen, because she has an insatiable thirst for learning and thinks “we all need to learn.” She has brought brilliant scholars and performers together for 49 years to teach and inspire us. The list includes such figures as Almut Rössler, Umberto Pineschi, Martin Haselböck, Todd Wilson, Janette Fishell, Madame Duruflé, Catherine Crozier, Guy Bovet, Peter Williams, Lady Susi Jeans, Wilma Jensen, Gordon Atkinson, and Marie-Claire Alain (to name only a few). We thank her for such priceless gifts.

Alexander Fiseisky, born in Moscow, graduated with distinction from the Moscow Conservatoire as pianist and organist. He is an organ soloist of the Moscow State Philharmonic Society, head of the organ class at the Russian Gnessins’ Academy of Music in Moscow, and president of the Vladimir Odoyevsky Organ Center. He organized and served as artistic director for organ festivals in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Kiev, and Tallinn, among others. In 1997 he was honored by President Yeltsin with the title ‘Honored Artist of the Russian Federation’. Fiseisky has given concerts in more than 30 countries. In the Bach anniversary year of 2000 he played J. S. Bach’s entire organ works, twice in the context of EXPO 2000 in Hannover, and once in a single day in Düsseldorf as a Bach marathon. Sought after as a juror in international competitions, he has directed seminars and masterclasses in Europe and the USA. He is the dedicatee of numerous compositions, including works by Mikhail Kollontai, Vladimir Ryabov, Milena Aroutyunova, and Walther Erbacher. A musicologist, he has edited anthologies of organ music of Russia and of the Baltics (Bärenreiter-Verlag). He has many recordings to his credit, including the complete organ works of J. S. Bach.

It goes without saying that the primary
task of every performer who wishes to convey the meaning of any given musical work must first be to understand the original intention of the composer. And when the works in question are those of Johann Sebastian Bach, where the invisible thread that should link us to the era in which he lived seems to be irretrievably broken, the task takes on Herculean proportions. The aim of this analysis is to attempt a correct reading of the Clavierübung III—one of the most enigmatic works in the whole literature of the organ.
This work, which was composed at the high point of the composer’s creativity (1739), impresses us by its dimensions alone. It is part of a cycle of works, comprising the Six Partitas (Part 1, composed in 1731, BWV 825–830), the French Ouverture and the Italian Concerto (Part 2, composed in 1735, BWV 831, BWV 971), as well as the Goldberg Variations (Part 4, composed in 1742, BWV 988). And the Clavierübung III itself is also a cyclical work—it consists of 21 chorale preludes and four duets framed by a prelude and a fugue in E-flat major.
Bach certainly accorded the Clavierübung III particular importance. It is no coincidence that this was the first work for organ that he had published in Leipzig. What was Bach’s purpose in writing this work, and what means did he choose to fulfil it?

The history of the composition. The intentions and aims of the composer
The Clavierübung III was written to coincide with the 200th anniversary of Luther’s visit to Leipzig and the festal Whitsun service in St. Thomas Church on the 25th of May 1539, which effectively marked the official recognition of the Reformation in Leipzig. The Clavierübung III consists essentially of arrangements of chorales from the Protestant church service, and in its structure it is reminiscent of Luther’s Catechism, which consists of two parts: the Greater Catechism deals with the principles of faith, while the Lesser Catechism is directed more towards children and the less-educated part of the population. Correspondingly, each chorale melody—with the exception of Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’ [Glory be to God alone on high]—is presented in two versions: a greater version which uses all the resources of the organ including the pedals, and a shorter manualiter version.
And indeed, because of its special structure, the Clavierübung III has often in the past been referred to as an “Organ Catechism,” and correspondingly it is usually referred to today as the “Organ Mass.” It is clear that neither of these two names do full justice to the structure of Bach’s composition. Nor do they explain the inclusion of the four duets.
The title of the work is as follows:

Dritter Theil / der / Clavier Übung / bestehend / in / verschiedenen Vorspielen / über die / Catechismus- und andere Gesaenge, / vor die Orgel: / Denen Liebhabern, und besonders denen Kennern / von dergleichen Arbeit, zur Gemüths Ergezung / verfertiget von / Johann Sebastian Bach, / Koenigl[ich] Pohlnischen, und Churfürstl[ich] Saechs[eschen] / Hoff-Compositeur, Capellmeister, und / Directore Chori Musici in Leipzig. / In Verlegung des Authoris.

[Third Part of the Clavierübung consisting of various preludes on the Catechism and other Hymns for the organ: for amateurs, and especially for connoisseurs of such work, for the refreshment of their souls, executed by Johann Sebastian Bach, Royal Polish and Electoral Saxon Court Composer, Capellmeister, and Directore Chori Musici in Leipzig. Published by the author.]

Bach here follows the example of his predecessor at St. Thomas Church, Johann Kuhnau (1660–1722), and modestly calls his work Clavierübung [Keyboard Exercise].2 He thereby encourages us, through diligent practice (Übung in German), to understanding his purpose in writing this work.
Let us accept this invitation.
The first question, even after a cursory look at Bach’s work, is probably “What does it represent in this compositional form? Are we to understand it as a unified dramatic whole or as a collection of diverse pieces for the keyboard?”
Characteristically, the usual concert practice suggests that the Clavierübung III is not seen as an integral work: virtually nobody plays the whole composition in its published form.3 But the question nevertheless remains: Is there really no suggestion of an overall dramatic structure within the work?
An analysis would help us to answer this question. But before we tackle it, we should—even very generally—look at some characteristics of the musical aesthetics and Bach’s particular compositional style during the period when he was working on the Clavierübung III.

The theological and philosophical basis of the work of J. S. Bach
Bach’s personal philosophy was heavily influenced by the philosophical ideas and the personality of Martin Luther (1483–1546). Books written by Luther accounted for a quarter of all the books in Bach’s private library. According to the personal inventory that was made after his death, Bach owned two complete editions of the works of Martin Luther in Latin and German, as well as works of his successors: Abraham Calov, Martin Chemnitz, Johannes Olearius, and others.4 The title page of an earlier version of the Clavier-Büchlein für Anna Magdalena Bach5 bears a note giving the title of the work as Anti-Calvinismus by August Pfeiffer, written in Bach’s own hand.
It is well known that Luther was a well-educated musician.6 In contrast to the majority of the reformers in the 16th century, Luther considered music to be a form of divine revelation. In the foreword to Georg Rhau’s anthology Symphoniae iucundae7 he wrote: “In summa: Die edle Musika ist nach Gottes Wort der höchste Schatz auf Erden.“8 [Summing up: Noble music is the greatest treasure on earth next to the Word of God.] He is quoted in the Encomion musices as giving a similar definition: “Musika ist eine schöne, liebliche Gabe Gottes, sie hat mich oft also erweckt und bewegt, daß ich Lust zu predigen gewonnen habe...”9 [One of the finest and noblest gifts of God is music. It has often aroused and moved me so that I have gained a desire to preach . . . ] And in a letter to Ludwig Senfl of 4 October 1530 we find the following lines in his handwriting:
Et plane judico, nec pudet asserere, post theologiam esse nullam artem, quae musicae possit aequari, cum ipsa sola post theologiam id praestet, quod alioqui sola theologia praestat, scilicet quietem et animum laetum…10
[I plainly judge, and do not hesitate to affirm, that except for theology there is no art that could be put on the same level with music, since except for theology, (music) alone produces what otherwise only theology can do, namely, a calm and joyful disposition.11]
Luther’s views were akin to those of Bach. Like the great reformer, Bach saw the world of music and the world of theology as very closely connected.12 A short handwritten treatise concerning figured bass, which Bach wrote while working on the Clavierübung III, is introduced with the following words:
Der Generalbaß ist das vollkommenste Fundament der Music welcher [auf einem Clavier] mit beyden Händen gespielt wird dergestalt das die lincke Hand die vorgeschriebenen Noten spielet die rechte aber Con- und Dissonantien darzu greift damit dieses eine wohlklingende Harmonie gebe zur Ehre Gottes und zulässiger Ergötzung des Gemüths und soll wie aller Music, also auch des General Basses Finis und End Uhrsache anders nicht, als nur zu Gottes Ehre und Recreation des Gemüths seyn. Wo dieses ists keine eigentliche Music sondern ein Teuflisches Geplerr und Geleyr.13
[The thorough-bass is the most perfect foundation of music. It is played with both hands on a keyboard instrument in such a way that the left hand plays the written notes, while the right hand strikes consonances and dissonances, so that this results in full-sounding Harmonie to the Honor of God and the permissible delight of the soul. The ultimate end or final goal of all music, including the thorough-bass, shall be nothing but for the Honor of God and the renewal of the soul. Where these factors are not taken in consideration, there is no true music, rather, devilish bawling and droning.14]

When Bach at the age of 23 left Mühl-hausen, he declared that the Endzweck [ultimate aim] of his creative work would be the regulirte kirchen music zu Gottes Ehren [regulated church music to the glory of God].15
One can further assess the musical and aesthetic views of the composer with the help of his annotations in the margins of a Bible that was published by Abraham Calov (1681–1682) in Wittenberg.16 These marginalia are quite valuable—they allow us to catch a glimpse of the personal views of their writer and open up his world for us.
Already in Exodus, Chapter 15, where the prophetess Miriam sings of the wonderful deeds of God, we can read in Bach’s own hand: “N.B. Erstes Vorspiel auf 2 Chören zur Ehre Gottes zu musiciren.” [N.B.: First prelude for two choirs to be sung to the glory of God.] As a comment on First Chronicles 29, v. 2117 we find the following statement by the composer:

Ein herrlicher Beweiß, daß neben andern Anstalten des Gottesdienstes, besonders auch die Musica von Gottes Geist durch David mit angeordnet worden.
[Splendid proof that, besides other arrangements for worship, music too was instituted through David by the Spirit of God.]18
First Chronicles 26 describes the choosing of musicians for the temple. Bach’s comment: “Dieses Capitel ist das wahre Fundament aller Gott gefälligen Kirchen Music.” [This chapter is the true foundation of all church music pleasing to God.]
And one final quote: Second Chronicles, chapter 5 contains the passage:

. . . it was the duty of the trumpeters and singers to make themselves heard in unison in praise and thanksgiving to the LORD, and when the song was raised, with trumpets and cymbals and other musical instruments, in praise to the LORD “For he is good; for his steadfast love endures for ever,” the house, the house of the LORD, was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the LORD filled the house of God. (2 Chronicles 5:13–14)19

Bach annotates this text with a remarkable comment that has programmatic significance and shows not only his relationship to the composing, performing, and hearing of music, but also to the activities of a church musician in general: “Bey einer andächtigen Musique ist allezeit Gott mit seiner Gnaden Gegenwart.“ [Where there is devotional music, God with His grace is always present.]
These examples suffice to clarify where we must start if we wish to analyze the works of Johann Sebastian Bach. Albert Schweitzer wrote in his masterful fashion: “Music is an act of worship with Bach… For him, art was religion...”20 The orthodox Lutheran Bach, who was born and raised in Eisenach, Luther’s own town, where the façade of the main church of St. George was decorated with the Protestant motto “A mighty fortress is our God,” transcended in his music the boundaries of confession and creed. “In the last resort, however, Bach’s real religion was not orthodox Lutheranism, but mysticism. In his innermost essence he belongs to the history of German mysticism.”21
This mystical sensitivity to the presence of God and the desire to give witness to Him through music, coupled with his dazzling talent, enabled Bach in his later works to develop an astonishing artistic fusion, the likes of which had not been seen in the world’s cultural history.
In 1747 Bach was admitted to the Societät der musikalischen Wissenschaften [Society of the Musical Sciences], which his one-time pupil, the philosopher and music author Lorenz Christoph Mizler von Koloff (1711–1778), had founded.22 Mizler, a friend of Bach’s, was strongly influenced by Pythagorism and the rational philosophy of both G. W. Leibnitz (1646–1716) and Christian Wolff (1679–1754). He saw music as a mathematical science.23
The very fact that Bach accepted Mizler’s invitation to join the Societät der musikalischen Wissenschaften is in itself significant. The composer obviously sympathized with Pythagoras’s ideas concerning the universe and its perfect harmony: a harmony that, according to the teachings of the ancient philosopher and mathematician, was expressed in numbers,24 and shared the convictions of his progenies.
J. S. Bach became the fourteenth member of the Society after G. F. Telemann (6) and G. F. Handel (11), together with other well-known scholars and philosophers. Following the established tradition, upon joining the Society he contributed a mite of his own. In addition to the Canonic variations on “Vom Himmel hoch, da komm’ ich her” (BWV 769), the composer also donated a portrait of himself to the Society, which had been painted in 1746 by Elias Gottlob Hausmann. A microanalysis of the music manuscript that appears in this painting has been made by Friedrich Smend. The results have thrown light on significant aspects of Bach’s compositional methods, which until the middle of the twentieth century had not attracted much attention by scholars.25
Smend’s publication gave new impetus to investigating numerology in the works of the Cantor of St. Thomas Church in Leipzig.26 It is not without interest that the researchers first found support in the writings of Christian theologians, but later more and more in the works of the ancient philosophers.27

Features of J. S. Bach’s compositional method
Albert Schweitzer defined Bach as a phenomenon in the history of music: “Bach is . . . a terminal point . . . everything merely leads up to him.”28 Indeed the works of the Cantor of St. Thomas make use not only of the fruits of earlier achievements in composition, but they are also the consummation of the most characteristic tendencies in the music of his own time. He makes use of a plethora of past and present expressive techniques and puts them at the disposal of one single goal: the creation of “devotional music.”
So what exactly were the artistic methods used by J. S. Bach as a composer?
Victor Hugo once described Gothic cathedrals as “symphonies in stone.” If we apply this quotation to the works of Bach, we could say that his larger compositions are “Gothic cathedrals” in music. And when one looks more closely at how Bach approached a new composition we can actually find quite close parallels to architecture. One could contrast, for example, Bach’s methods with the processes current in Viennese Classicism. Whereas in the latter period composition proceeded in a “linear” fashion, beginning from the melody in one of the voices, the methods of Bach’s time started from quite a different point. First of all, the composer laid down a concept of the entire work, or—to use the architectural analogy—he created a “ground-plan.” Then he proceeded to fill in the details. An example of this method is provided by the Orgelbüchlein [Little Organ Book] (BWV 599–644).
This working method gave free rein to the composer’s imagination. The proportions of the composition and its “saturation” with both obvious and more hidden details—factors that played an important role in determining the overall sense of the work—could easily be incorporated in the composition from its very beginning. Great importance was attached to Affektenlehre [Doctrine of the Affections], musical-rhetorical figures, and numerology.
Bach was without a doubt a brilliant “musical architect.” There is no room in his works for anything non-essential. He worked in a similar fashion to the architects of the Middle Ages: every detail has its origin in the concept governing the whole. And as with the medieval builders, much of this work remains, even today, shrouded in mystery. There are always new avenues opening up in these seemingly well-known works for new generations of interpreters to explore.
One can of course only penetrate more deeply into this musical architecture of most of Bach’s works if the connection to the words of the chorales used by the composer is taken into account. Johann Gotthilf Ziegler (1688–1747), a pupil of Bach, wrote in 1746: “Herr Capellmeister Bach, who is still living, instructed me when playing hymns, not to treat the melody as if it alone were important, but to play them taking into account the affect of the words.”29
Johann Mattheson (1681–1764) described music as sounding speech. Naturally this form of speech required its own lexicon in the shape of the definite progressions of musical notes bearing the semantic meaning—the motives, or musical-rhetorical figures, as they are called. These were quoted by Bach’s cousin, Johann Gottfried Walther (1684–1748), in his Musicalisches Lexicon [Music Encyclopaedia] (1732) and in the Praecepta der Musicalischen Composition [Principles of Musical Composition] (1708). Another important compositional aspect was the use of rhetorical laws in the construction of the musical structure, so that the composition began to resemble a religious sermon. As already mentioned, the Affektenlehre [Doctrine of the Affections], which depended upon the use of unequal temperament and the resulting different emotional character of the various keys, played an important role in composition,30 as did, surrounded as it was by an air of mystery, numerology with its different levels of meaning.
One of these levels is to be found in allegorical symbolism. Andreas Werckmeister (1645–1706) gave the following meanings to the first eight numbers in Musikalische Paradoxal-Discourse:31 1 – God, unity; 2 – The Word, God the Son; 3 – The Holy Spirit; 4 – The world of angels; 5 – Symbol of Mankind (“sensual Mankind” [Numerus sensualis]); 6 – Third Person of the Godhead (3×2);32 7 – Symbol of purity and peace; 8 – Symbol of wholeness and perfection.
Another level is that of semantic symbolism. For example, the number 7 symbolises the Seven Last Words on the Cross.
A third level is that of cabbalistic symbolism. Each letter of the alphabet stands for a particular number: a = 1, b = 2, c = 3 and so forth. The letters i and j share the number 9, while u and v are both attributed to the number 20. This means that particular combinations of letters each have a corresponding number. For example, the number 14 is the sum of the numerical values of the letters BACH. Thus the number 14 (or similar numbers, such as 140 or 1.4) would be associated with the composer Bach, whose name was assembled from these individual letters.
Numbers were also used as a constructive element, whereby the harmonic proportions of the ratios of simple numbers, which had been known since Pythagoras’s time, were incorporated into the composition. In addition, the proportio divina, the “Golden mean,” was also used. Naturally Bach was a consummate master of all these creative methods and he used them constantly in his compositions. The most obvious example is the Clavierübung III, which occupies a key position among all Bach’s works for the organ.
Let us examine the structure of this composition more closely.

The chorale preludes
The central part of the work under consideration, as Bach’s title-page suggests, is the collection of chorale preludes. This collection covers not only the essential elements of the Protestant liturgy but also of Luther’s Catechism.
Kyrie, Gott Vater in Ewigkeit – Christe, aller Welt Trost – Kyrie, Gott heiliger Geist [Kyrie, God the Father, eternal – Christ, consolation of all the world – Kyrie, God the Holy Spirit] (BWV 669–674)
The triad of the first chorales creates a sense of unity. The models for these autonomous works were certain verses of the Gregorian chorale Kyrie fons bonitatis (10th century),33 which display the characteristic of a refrain. (Example 1) Such a compositional method is seldom found among Bach’s organ works. In the context of Kyrie – Christe – Kyrie it allowed the composer to establish by means of music the essence of the “one and indivisible” Holy Trinity.34
The first motif of the cantus firmus is characterized by a stepwise progression. In the final statement of the cantus firmus (which is the same in all three compositions), note the upwards leap over a fifth. It is perhaps of interest to note that both the stepwise movement on the one hand and the prominent role of the fifth on the other (elements that determine the mood of the first chorales of the Clavierübung III) play an important part in the dramatic construction of the whole work.
The unity of the initial Kyrie – Christe – Kyrie is underlined by the fact that they are written in a single compositional style—the stile antico. Hermann Keller described them as “Orgelmotetten kunst-vollster Art” [The most highly artistic motets for organ].35 The music suggests greatness and quiet strength. The movement of the accompanying voices working out the motifs of the cantus firmus is linear. The cantus firmus, which is kept in longer note values, appears successively in the soprano (Kyrie, Gott Vater in Ewigkeit), in the tenor (Christe, aller Welt Trost), and in the bass (Kyrie, Gott heiliger Geist), and thus symbolizes in similar fashion the three Persons of the Trinity: God the Father, who is above all, who holds all in being; Jesus Christ, the mediator between God and humankind; and the life-giving Holy Spirit.
The epic element appears organically tied to the inner dynamics of the Kyrie – Christe – Kyrie. The contemplative character of the first chorale gives way to a feeling of emotional turbulence in the second chorale. The third chorale is energy-laden, an effect achieved by the introduction of a fifth voice, the acceleration of the musical structure, and the use of chromatics.
The end of the chorale Kyrie, Gott heiliger Geist is quite remarkable: against the backdrop of the final statement of the cantus firmus in the pedals, a tie overflowing with chromatic dissonances appears in the upper voices. These six-and-a-half bars differ quite markedly from all that has gone before. The sound as it were illustrates the text, which at this point contains a plea for mercy. The word eleison is accompanied by an ostinato, which climbs in seconds and by a chromatic figura parrhesia. The music suggests a certain personal involvement. It is significant that one finds the motif BACH in crab motion here (although it appears in other notes), and finally encounters the signature of the composer: CH-BA in the alto of the penultimate bar. (Example 2)
There are altogether 60 bars in the chorale prelude Kyrie, Gott heiliger Geist, which matches Werckmeister’s concept well.36 And there is of course the additional association with the creation of the world (the six days of God’s creative work).37 It is worth mentioning that in the first prelude of the Clavierübung III the numerical symbol for the name Bach already occurs more than once. The subsequent statement of the theme in the chorale Kyrie, Gott Vater in Ewigkeit is not only emphasized by the use of parallel thirds, but also by its extension to 14 notes (the numerical value of the letters BACH).38 And the cantus firmus in the chorale prelude Kyrie, Gott heiliger Geist has a total of 41 notes (JSBACH).
The three manualiter Kyries, each in the form of a small fughetta, all elaborate the opening motif of the appropriate verse of the chorale. Each following chorale begins in the soprano with the last note of the preceding chorale, which serves to underline the inner unity of the three manualiter pieces Kyrie – Christe – Kyrie.
An interesting aspect, which is seldom found within Bach’s organ works, is how the keys of the six pieces we have looked at are related. Each of them has at least two tonal centers. We should not let the key signature with three flats of the greater chorale preludes Kyrie – Christe – Kyrie confuse us: the rules of musical notation would certainly have allowed these preludes to have been written with only two flats. It would appear that the composer intentionally adopted three flats in order to strengthen the association with the Holy Trinity.

Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’
[Glory be to God alone on high] (BWV 675–677)
A special feature of the following section of the Clavierübung III is the fact that it has three different preludes on the chorale Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’—the Protestant version of the Gloria in excelsis from the Gregorian Mass for Easter Sunday. An explanation for this phenomenon must be sought in the text of the chorale itself,39 as it sings the praises of the Holy Trinity. Correspondingly, Bach includes three preludes here, each of which is a very individually elaborated piece in three-part texture.
In the first prelude, elegant and rhythmical canon-like outer voices surround the cantus firmus in the alto. The next prelude is executed as a trio sonata with pedal obligato. The cantus firmus appears from time to time in one or other of the voices of this exquisite trio and blends with the natural flow of the music.40 The last chorale prelude is a small fugato in the manner of an Italian versetto, based on the first notes of the cantus firmus.41 All in all, these three versions of the angel’s praise Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’ create a feeling of incorporality and immateriality, convincing us by their clarity and purity, and creating an impression of harmony and perfection.
In this section of the Clavierübung III there is a small, at first glance insignificant, compositional detail that is, however, very interesting when seen from the perspective of the dramatic construction of the whole. The keys of the chorale preludes—F major, G major, and A major—form an ascending motif that is the basis for all three preludes on Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’. The composer must assuredly have chosen this sequence of keys with the aim of thus uniting the whole cycle. Numerology reveals another interesting aspect—the numerical values of F, G, and A (6 +7 + 1) comes to 14, the same value as BACH.

Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’ [These are the holy Ten Commandments] (BWV 678–679)
Following the lead of Luther’s Catechism, Bach now begins an extensive section of the Clavierübung III with arrangements of the Gregorian chorale on an Old Testament theme, Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’.42 This is the last pair of chorales in a major key for the remainder of the cycle and the only time that Bach uses the same key for two consecutive compositions—Mixolydian G major, which is one of the purest keys in unequal temperament. It is significant that in both the Orgelbüchlein and in Cantata 77, the chorale melody Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’ is also written in this key.
The greater chorale prelude is developed as a composition for five voices, with the cantus firmus appearing a total of five times as a canon in the tenor. Thus it appears ten times in all, symbolizing an obedient response to the Law.43
The beginning of the prelude is wonderful: over a pedalpoint we hear, emerging out of the stillness, the motif of three descending notes, which we encountered earlier in the piece, worked out as a canon in the upper voices. The measured diatonic motion, the prepared suspensions, the surrounding motifs, and the ascending triads—these are just some of the musical means the composer has used to create a world of unspoiled purity, order, and harmony, in which the unsullied inhabitants of Paradise were at home before the Fall. (Example 3)
A change in character occurs in the fifth bar44 with the introduction of a figura suspirans45 and a motif of ‘falling seconds’, supplemented by a descending chromatic figura parrhesia motif in the alto. (Example 4)
Now the music is dominated by grief, sorrow, and misfortune.46 A change occurs once more in the sixth bar with the introduction of a figura kyklosis or figura circulatio in the alto47 (Example 5), which enriches the fabric with its new nuances. Thus with the help of symbolic motifs that are organically woven into the very fabric of the music, the composer brings us closer to the meaning of the chorale.
The First Commandment, which Luther in his Great Catechism deems to be the most important, is interpreted in the second verse of the chorale:

Ich bin allein dein Gott, der Herr,
kein Götter sollst du haben mehr,
du sollst mir ganz vertrauen dich,
von Herzens Grund lieben mich,
Kyrieleis.

[I alone am your God, your Lord,
No other Gods shall you have,
You shall put your whole trust in me,
Love me from the depth of your heart.
Kyrieleis.]

There is much evidence that precisely these lines were the starting point for Bach’s plan for the whole composition.
It is interesting to note that where the text speaks of “the love of God that comes out of the depths of the heart,” Bach interrupts the cantus firmus (bars 48–50) and increases the number of repetitions from ten to twelve. The motivation for this change can best be seen as an attempt to create a connection between the Old and New Testaments, whose interpreters in the new Christian congregations were the twelve Apostles. And Bach will follow the same intention to connect, through the symbolic comparison of the numbers ten and twelve, the Mosaic Law and the teachings of Jesus again in the Eucharist part, the conclusion of the chorale prelude section of the Clavierübung III.
It is well known that in the New Testament the Commandment of Love takes on decisive significance: “Jesus answered . . . you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). The composer underlines the importance of this commandment with the help of special methods that are introduced at key points. When the word Herz [Heart] appears in the chorale text, Bach highlights it (in bars 46-47) with two groups of 16th notes, and when the words lieben mich [love me] appear in bars 51–52, he uses the heterolepsis, a musical rhetorical figure that creates the effect of two being united in one.48 Thus the composer uses musical means to portray the tangible content of the text. (Example 6)
Numerology plays an especially important role in the chorale prelude Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’.49 The chorale prelude has 60 bars (corresponding to the six days of creation). A pause first appears in the pedal after 37 notes, which can be seen as the Labarum, or Chi-Ro Christogram.50 The next pause comes after 60 further notes (another apparent reference to the creation of the cosmos). The subsequent melodic structure of the pedal line up to the pedalpoint in bar 29, which creates the illusion of a reprise, contains 47 notes. In the first bar, after the pause (bar 21), we encounter a leap of two octaves in the pedal, covering the entire range of the pedal, which is very unusual. (Example 7)
It is well known that Bach often referred to the Psalter, as did Luther in his Catechism. Psalm 47:2 states: “For the LORD, the Most High, is awesome, a great king over all the earth.” The text of the cantus firmus quoted at the point of the two octave leap is: Kein Götter sollst du haben mehr [No other Gods shall you have]. Michael Radulescu suggests that we should see the leap as an original “musical comment” by the composer, which, though hidden behind the abstract numerological symbolism, is to be understood as a distinct statement: “I am larger than life, I am your King.”51
The subsequent phrase in the pedal contains 147 notes. When Luther in his Catechism explains the meaning of the Ten Commandments, he quotes Psalm 147:11: “But the LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.” By introducing the number 147 into his chorale prelude Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’, Bach is underlining the actuality of the psalmist’s words quoted by Luther for the theme of the Decalogue.
The final notes of the cantus firmus in the second tenor are accompanied by a descending counterpoint in the first tenor, beginning with a chromatic figura parrhesia, which contains 12 notes (bars 57–60). The last phrase in the pedal consists of 14 notes (BACH), which is preceded by two short phrases of five notes each.
After all the above we can concur with those experts who suggest that the basic idea behind this work is love for the Creator.52 Additional confirmation for the correctness of this view is the number 315, which is the sum of all notes in the pedal. Albrecht Clement considers this number to be the numerical expression of the phrase Du sollt Gott, deinen Herren, lieben. [Literally: “You should love God, your Lord” as a direct rendering of the Luther Bible’s translation of Mark 12:30.]53
Characteristically, Bach introduces this summons in the title of Cantata 77, whose opening chorus is built upon the theme of the chorale prelude Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’, viz.

Du sollt Gott deinen Herren lieben
24 + 73 + 59 + 49 + 65 + 45 = 315

The manual fughetta on the chorale Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’, written in the form of a gigue, is also dominated by the number 10, although it also contains other interesting numerical allusions.
First of all, it is a four-voice fughetta and the theme is presented ten times (4×10 = 40). The same relationship can be seen in the exposition of the fughetta: ten bars of four dotted eighth notes (10×4 = 40). The theme runs for ten beats. Thus we see the same relationship in the exposition: 10×4 = 40. The theme in the second exposition is presented in inversion and in a shortened form (six beats). The relationship is correspondingly 6×4 = 24. And finally, the last two stretti quotations of the theme (bars 32–35) give us the relationship 8×2 = 16, as the theme here is eight beats long. It is not difficult to see that the addition of 24 and 16 results in the key number 40, which is apparently a reference to the Jewish people’s forty years of wandering in the wilderness before being given the stone tablets with the Decalogue.
The theme has a most interesting structure. It consists of two parts: the main melody of the chorale emerging from a repeated ostinato note and its leaps (six beats), and stepwise motifs over a fifth (four beats). (Example 8) Christoph Albrecht described the theme figuratively as a musical picture of a “raised warning forefinger.”54 But numerology allows us to find deeper connotation in it. The second part of the theme contains 14 notes (BACH). One could consider this as a mere coincidence, were it not that we meet the melody with this numerical symbol again at other central formative points in this little piece.
This second part of the melody occurs as a theme in its own right in the 41st beat of the fughetta (JSBACH), where it fills out the eleventh bar at the junction between the two expositions. Again, this melody is consistently developed in the 14 bars that separate the two concluding quotations of the theme from the second exposition. And we would finally add that the number 14 is underlined by the sum total of all the beats in this chorale prelude: they all add up to 140.
Without a doubt it would be the very height of negligence for a performer who is looking for an authentic interpretation to ignore the manifold recurrence in the composition of the name of its creator. The composer of the manual version of Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’ obviously had definite reasons for weaving his name again and again into the musical fabric of the work.
Let us boldly assume that in this work Bach wishes to embody the idea of the divine Commandments as the cornerstone of his own life. The tenfold repeated theme of the chorale Dies sind die heil’gen zehn Gebot’ and the numerical symbol 40 harbor the idea of the Commandments. Their importance for Bach personally is attested to by the composer’s repeated use of the symbol 14.

This article will be continued.

Markus Rathey, Ph.D. is Associate Professor of Music History at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music and the Yale School of Music. His research focuses on Johann Sebastian Bach and the relationship of music, religion and society in the 17th and 18th centuries.

Buxtehude’s chorale variations
The number of chorale variations in Dietrich Buxtehude’s organ works is considerably smaller than in the oeuvre of other northern and central German composers like Samuel Scheidt, Georg Böhm, and Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck. Among Buxtehude’s organ works the chorale variations form a rather small group of six sets:1

BuxWV 177, Ach Gott und Herr, 2 variations
BuxWV 179, Auf meinen lieben Gott, 5 variations
BuxWV 181, Danket dem Herren, 3 variations
BuxWV 205, Meine Seele erhebt den Herren, 2 variations
BuxWV 207, Nimm von uns Herr, du treuer Gott, 4 variations
BuxWV 213, Nun lob, mein Seel, den Herren, 3 variations

An overview of Buxtehude’s chorale variations would, however, be incomplete without considering the use of chorale-based variation in other genres. Among his organ works, we find traditional techniques of the chorale variation in his chorale fantasies. Here, each phrase of the melody is treated “separately and in different voices,”2 whereas in the chorale partita (or chorale variation) the technique of variation changes with each stanza of the hymn.3 Yet another type of “chorale variation” in Buxtehude’s oeuvre is the variation of chorale melodies in his numerous chorale cantatas. The chorale cantatas are based on the texts and melodies of Protestant hymns, in which each movement (or larger section) treats a single stanza employing a different technique.4 Buxtehude’s chorale cantatas range from rather simple settings like In dulci jubilo, BuxWV 52, to complex compositions that transform the traditional melody into an expressive vocal concerto, like Jesu, meine Freude, BuxWV 60.5
While there is no doubt that Buxtehude’s chorale cantatas and chorale fantasies are significant contributions to their respective genres, his chorale variations stand, as far as their reception goes, in the shadow of these more elaborate compositions. Kerala Snyder, in her seminal biography of Buxtehude, gives a rather negative assessment:

Chorale variations play the least important role in Buxtehude’s keyboard music. Not only are they few in number, but the style in which most of them are composed is not distinctive. [...] With one significant exception [BuxWV 179] these variation sets do not form convincing cycles, and they appear to have been composed either for alternatim performance or for teaching purposes.6

Similarly, Kathryn Welter states that Buxtehude’s chorale variations have a “non-distinctive style.”7
Arnfried Edler, on the other hand, in his recent history of keyboard music, finds more positive words for Buxtehude’s chorale variations:

The principle of a unifying climax in sound and tension can be seen [in Buxtehude’s chorale variations] to different degrees; it is most obvious in Nun lob mein Seel den Herren (BuxWV 213), where the variations begin with a bicinium; then follows a tricinium with cantus firmus in the upper voice until the set is closed by a tricinium with bass cantus firmus.8

For other chorale variations, however, the unifying elements are less obvious and often nonexistent.
While the chorale partitas seem to lack the compelling structural coherence and the depth in text interpretation exhibited by the fantasies and the cantatas, they are more than simple Gebrauchsmusik, compositions that fulfill a merely utilitarian purpose. The following essay will focus on Buxtehude’s chorale variations on the hymn Nimm von uns Herr, du treuer Gott, BuxWV 207, examining its musical structure, its function, and its contexts in contemporary piety.

Nimm von uns Herr, BuxWV 207
The variations are based on a Protestant chorale from the second half of the 16th century. The text has seven stanzas and was published in 1584 by the 16th-century poet and theologian Martin Moller (1547–1606); the words were traditionally combined with Martin Luther’s melody for the hymn Vater unser, im Himmelreich. (See Example 1: Melody, “Nimm von uns Herr.”)

First movement
Buxtehude’s set of variations consists of four verses. The first verse is a three-part setting, with the cantus firmus in mostly unembellished fashion in the upper voice. The occasional embellishments of the melody (mm. 8, 11, and 27) occur only at the beginning or the middle of a phrase, never at the end. This movement is basically a figuratively embellished chorale harmonization. The harmonic backdrop is dissolved into a continuous sixteenth-note motion. The lower voices serve primarily as accompaniment. Only occasionally (in the interludes between the lines of the chorale or later in mm. 21–24) does the alto voice develop a certain degree of independence and engage into a motivic dialogue with the bass.
The texture of the movement resembles the type we find in the chorale variations of Buxtehude’s contemporary Johann Pachelbel, and even in the works of Johann Gottfried Walther, who was of a later generation. Buxtehude himself used this type only rarely. The single chorale setting Jesus Christus, unser Heiland, BuxWV 198, is very similar to the first verse of BuxWV 207. In both pieces Buxtehude employs an analogous “running” sixteenth figuration in the lower voices, while the chorale melody is played in the upper voice. Like BuxWV 207/1, the piece is not a strict trio but rather a figuratively embellished chorale harmonization. The same is true for the first verse of the chorale variations on Danket dem Herren, BuxWV 181, and the second verse of the chorale partita Nun lob, mein Seel, den Herren, BuxWV 213. Even though he used it only rarely, Buxtehude seems to have preferred this type of chorale setting mostly in his chorale variations rather than in independent chorale preludes. Only one such individual setting (BuxWV 198) has come down to us; however, it cannot be ruled out that other, similar compositions by Buxtehude have been lost.

Second (and fourth) movement(s)
The second movement of Nimm von uns Herr is a traditional bicinium, standing in the tradition of similar pieces by Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck and Samuel Scheidt. The melody in the upper voice, even less embellished than in the first movement, is accompanied by a lower voice of extraordinarily wide tessitura, spanning the range from alto (mm. 7–9) to a low bass voice (m. 28). (See Example 2.) A comparison with similar settings by Sweelinck (Example 3) and Scheidt (Example 4) exhibits Buxtehude’s roots in these traditions. All three examples begin with the first note of the cantus firmus; the accompanying voice enters later (here a quarter note) in unison, before it reaches the third of the chorale melody through passing notes.
The few embellishments of the melody (mainly simple passing notes) in Buxtehude’s bicinium are encountered at the same places as they were in the first movement: in the middle of the second and the beginning of the third phrase. Only the short melismatic embellishment of the last phrase in the first movement finds no correspondence in the second movement.
We pass over the third movement for a moment and come to the last section of Buxtehude’s chorale partita. It is another bicinium with the cantus firmus in the upper voice and a vivid, motivically independent lower voice of wide tessitura. The embellishments of the melodic line (again mainly passing notes) are at the same places as in the first bicinium—a feature that ensures a certain degree of motivic consistency between the two bicinia.
Monody and expression: the third movement of BuxWV 207
The third movement is exceptional. It conforms to the type of chorale setting that is traditionally labeled as “organ chorale” (Orgelchoral) or “monodic organ chorale” (monodischer Orgelchoral).9 The melody in the upper voice is highly embellished, while the lower three voices serve as an accompaniment and bridge the gaps between the chorale lines with short, imitative interludes. It is the type of chorale setting Buxtehude uses in most of his single-movement chorale preludes.10 The structure is the same as in the chorale preludes: the upper voice begins (here with a vivid embellishment of the first note of the hymn) before the three lower voices enter with a mostly homophonic accompaniment.11 (See Examples 5 and 6.)
While the majority of Buxtehude’s settings of this type begin with a simple long note in the upper voice,12 this one is opened by an extensive, octave-encompassing embellishment of the first note of the cantus firmus, establishing the d-minor tonality, which is later confirmed by the entrance of the lower voices. Example 6, Buxtehude’s setting of the hymn Komm, Heiliger Geist, shows that the composer occasionally employs a similar opening in other monodic chorale settings as well.
While the movement stays within the margins of Buxtehude’s style, it is unusual to find a setting of this type in the context of an otherwise rather simple chorale partita, breaking up the frame established by the other movements. It is also the only movement in the partita that requires pedal. The unusual structure of the set of variations requires explanation.
One explanation could be that the chorale partita, in its current form, is not the partita Buxtehude composed. A reduction of the work to verses 1, 2 and 4 would turn the composition into a more coherent set of three variations for manual only, with a three-part setting at the beginning and two bicinia following. In that way, the composition would somewhat resemble the chorale variations on Nun lob, mein Seel, den Herren, BuxWV 213 (Bicinium–Trio–Trio). However, the sources for the partita do not justify the exclusion of the third movement. Not a single source (even those with that are incomplete) preserves the chorale partita without the third movement.13 One manuscript (the now lost Königsberg manuscript, Sammlung Gotthold Ms 15.839, copied by Johann Gottfried Walther) contains only the third movement, but it is more likely that Walther (or the source he used) took the piece out of its original context than that the movement was inserted into the already existing set of the variations 1, 2, and 4.
The combination of unembellished and highly embellished verses in a chorale variation was not entirely unusual in the 17th century. We find similar combinations in the chorale variations by Heinrich Scheidemann (~1596–1663), who, as Kerala Snyder suggests, could have been Buxtehude’s teacher in Hamburg.14 But even if Buxtehude did not directly study with Scheidemann, the latter’s pieces were widely disseminated in manuscripts, and Buxtehude surely had access to compositions by the Hamburg organ master. In other words, Buxtehude’s chorale variations on Nimm von uns Herr—even though they seem to be incoherent—stay within the margins of both the composer’s style and the style of northern German organ music in the second half of the 17th century in general.

Form and function
How was Buxtehude’s chorale partita used? We know from Lübeck sources from the 17th and early 18th centuries that chorales were sung “alternatim,” which means that the congregation and the organ alternated in the performance of the hymns.15 One verse was sung by the congregation, which in Lübeck at this time still normally sang without the accompaniment of the organ. The next verse was then played by the organist while the congregation “sang” the text of the stanza, which they knew by heart, in their minds. Then another verse was sung by the congregation, and so forth. Furthermore, the hymns were preceded by an organ prelude.
We can assume that the chorale variations on Nimm von uns Herr were also used in alternation with the singing of the congregation. They were probably performed in the following way:

BuxWV 207/1 Organ prelude
Congregation Verse 1
BuxWV 207/2 Verse 2
Congregation Verse 3
BuxWV 207/3 Verse 4
Congregation Verse 5
BuxWV 207/4 Verse 6
Congregation Verse 7
The four movements fit perfectly into the seven-verse structure of the hymn. The first movement served as a prelude; the remaining movements replaced the even numbered verses, while the congregation sang the odd numbered.
A comparison between the hymn stanzas the organ replaced and Buxtehude’s compositional realization suggests a correspondence between musical form and lyrical content. The first bicinium in the set of variations (movement 2) replaced the following stanza:

Erbarm dich deiner bösen Knecht.
Wir bitten Gnad und nicht das Recht;
Denn so du, Herr, den rechten Lohn
Uns geben wolltst nach unserm Thun,
So müßt die ganze Welt vergehn
Und könnt kein Mensch vor dir bestehn.

Have mercy upon your evil servants.
We ask for mercy and not for justice;
For if you, Lord, wanted to give
The earned reward to us for our deeds,
The whole world would have to perish
And no man could stand before thee.

It would be too much to expect a set of chorale variations of this time to give a musical exegesis of the text; however, the movement clearly transfers the affect of the stanza into music. The restrained sonority of the two-part texture, the chromaticism and hushed thirty-second notes accompanying the third phrase of the melody (“for if you, Lord, wanted to give the earned reward,” mm. 12–14), and the restless sixteenth-note motion towards the end of the setting (“and no man could stand before thee”) capture the mood of the text, a feeling of trepidation and hope.
The second bicinium, replacing the sixth stanza, reflects the general affect of the words in a similar fashion:

Gedenk an deins Sohns bittern Tod,
Sieh an sein heilig Wunden rot,
Die sind ja für die ganze Welt
Die Zahlung und das Lösegeld,
Des trösten wir uns allezeit
Und hoffen auf Barmherzigkeit.

Remember your son’s bitter death,
Look upon His holy red wounds,
That are indeed for the entire world
The settlement and ransom,
From this we gain consolation always
And hope in your compassion.
The restrained sonority of the two-part texture underlines the meditative character of the text. An interesting melismatic embellishment appears in the second phrase, emphasizing the words “look upon His holy red wounds.” Furthermore, the textural similarity between the two settings (both are bicinia with the melody in the upper voice) underlines the theological correspondence of stanzas 2 and 6. Both focus on the juxtaposition of grace and justice, using monetary images (“reward” in verse 2 and “ransom” in verse 6). In other words, the musical structure reflects the theological structure of the hymn text.
Stanza four of the chorale was replaced with the extraordinarily embellished third verse of the partita.

Warum willt du doch zornig sein
Über uns arme Würmelein?
Weißt du doch wohl, du großer Gott,
Daß wir nichts sind als Erd und Kot;
Es ist ja vor deim Angesicht
Unser Schwachheit verborgen nicht.

Why would you be so angry
Against us poor little worms?
For you know well, great God,
That we are nothing but dirt and dung;
Indeed before your face
our weakness is not hidden.

Between wrath and melancholy
Even though is it possible to find correspondences between single words of the text and Buxtehude’s way of embellishing the chorale melody (the wrathful God, mentioned in the initial line, could be the reason for the rhythmically agitated embellishment of the first note of the melody), it is more important to see how the movement captures the mood of the entire stanza. The most agitated and graphic verse of the text finds its equivalent in the most agitated and expressive verse of the partita. That this correspondence between text and instrumental realization is more than a coincidence is revealed through a comparison with a vocal setting of the same hymn by Johann Sebastian Bach. While Buxtehude himself in his chorale cantata Nimm von uns Herr, BuxWV 78, leaves out verses 4–6 of the hymn and only sets 1–3 and 7, Bach in his chorale cantata BWV 101 (composed in 1724) employs all seven verses (even though some appear in free paraphrase). Bach writes a similarly agitated aria when he sets the fourth verse of the hymn.16 He even features an agitated broken minor chord at the very beginning, just as Buxtehude does. The paraphrase of the fourth stanza in Bach’s cantata can be read as a theological commentary on the chorale text, enforcing the dramatic affect of the hymn text:

Warum willst du so zornig sein?
Es schlagen deines Eifers Flammen
Schon über unserm Haupt zusammen.
Ach, stelle doch die Strafen ein
Und trag aus väterlicher Huld
Mit unserm schwachen Fleisch Geduld.

Why would You be so angry?
The flames of Your zeal already
Strike together over our heads.
Ah, leave off Your punishments
And out of paternal favor deal
Patiently with our weak flesh.17

The similarities between Bach and Buxtehude are rooted in a similar type of religiosity. In the fourth verse, the hymn talks about the remembrance of mortality, an aspect of central importance to the piety of the 17th and early 18th centuries. The recognition of one’s own fallibility and transience was a precondition for salvation. Only one who recognized one’s sinfulness was also able to embrace God’s grace. The Lübeck Superintendent August Pfeiffer, at this time serving at the same church as Buxtehude, in his Anti-melancholicus, oder Melancholey-Vertreiber (1691), gives a very graphic description of the final hours:

I take fright as well whenever I think that my limbs, which I so carefully nourished and clothed and so tenderly cared for in my lifetime and which did me such steadfast service, should moulder and rot in the earth, and become a stinking carcass, dung, and filth, and perhaps be carried off by a thousand worms or maggots.18

Pfeiffer’s text uses metaphors similar to the fourth stanza of the hymn. The memento mori, the remembrance (and awareness) of death, was a cornerstone of contemporary piety. Again, if one verse deserved an embellished treatment in the course of the chorale partita, it was the fourth one. Even if we mistrust a literal identification of single embellishments with individual words of the chorale text, we must concede that the emotional quality of the fourth stanza, a quality that found its equivalent in the contemporary religiosity, lends itself to a more emotional treatment in the set of chorale variations.

Conclusions
The initial question remains: What is a convincing cycle? The structure of the set of variations was obviously determined by the text of the chorale. It also reacts to the necessities of its intended performance practice (alternatim). The partita was not intended for performance in a recital, but was planned as a composition that needed the integration of congregational singing. In this context, the set of variations appeared as a prelude and an embellished organ chorale that was framed by two bicinia, with the congregation adding another layer of structure to the performance. One could label the resulting form a ritornello-structure—only that the “ritornello” was not provided by the composer because it was sung by the congregation.
In this way, BuxWV 207 is different from Buxtehude’s partita Auf meinen lieben Gott, BuxWV 179, where the five stanzas of the hymn are transfigured into five dances, forming the movements of a conventional dance suite. That piece was composed for use at home, specifically for individual religious edification in the realm of domestic piety. Each of the five instrumental movements replaces the singing of the five stanzas of the chorale, and Buxtehude chose the form of a suite as the external idea to connect the movements.19 In our example, the circumstances of the performance already provided a “convincing” cyclic concept, in which the composer only had to insert the movements of the chorale partita. This granted him the liberty to react to the individual texts of the chorale melody. The chorale variation is characterized not so much by a lack of structure, but by the freedom given the composer through the existent structure in the alternatim practice.
When we perform Buxtehude’s chorale variations today, we mostly do so in a concert setting and not in the context of the liturgy. However, a modern performance that simply strings together the four movements of BuxWV 207 neglects an important aspect of historical performance practice. Even if we do not ask our concert audience to sing the verses of the hymn (but why should we not?), we could insert hymn settings of the chorale between the single movements. This would also enable the listeners, most of whom are probably unaware of the actual melody, to recognize the hymn tune in the variations. This could be especially helpful for the highly embellished third movement of the chorale partita.

Carl Parks, a freelance writer, is organist-choirmaster of Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Holmes Beach, Florida, and a past dean of the Sarasota-Manatee Chapter of the American Guild of Organists. Photographs are by the author.

Saxony’s Organs and Bachfest Leipzig 2004: A study tour of Bach, Luther & Silbermann

Every organist dreams of playing the Saxony region’s baroque organs that were designed, performed on, and approved by Johann Sebastian Bach. That, combined with the annual Bachfest Leipzig 2004, proved irresistible.

The annual Bach Festival in Leipzig, Germany--with day trips to hear and play over a dozen historic organs, many known to J. S. Bach--provided 27 of us an unforgettable study tour May 12 to 26. The tour included 16 festival concerts, lectures by Bach scholar Dr. Christoph Wolff of Harvard University, guided tours of the cities visited, and the opportunity for masterclasses with Thomaskirche organist Ulrich Böhme. It was Historic Organ Tour 50 led by the University of Michigan’s University Organist Dr. Marilyn Mason.

After a bus tour and night in Berlin, we proceeded on May 14 to Wittenberg. Our walking tour took us through the Luther House, which is the world’s largest museum of Reformation history, and the Schloßkirche, where Martin Luther presented his 95 theses and is now buried. After lunch next door in the Schloßkeller we arrived in Leipzig on time for the festival’s opening concert at the Thomaskirche, where Bach was Kantor for 27 years. Three settings of Psalm 98, by Bach (BWV 225 and 190) and Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy (Opus 91) were given a world-class performance by the church’s boys’ choir, soloists, and the Gewandhaus orchestra conducted by Georg Christoph Biller. The Sinfonia in D from the Easter Oratorio (BWV 249) opened the concert.

Leipzig

Our walking tour of Leipzig the next morning showed a city coming to life again since the collapse of the German Democratic Republic (DDR) and the reunification of Germany. Construction is everywhere. Historic buildings are being cleaned and restored, while the big, vacant housing projects and other Stalinist architecture are about to be torn down. One grim building about to be razed sits on the site of the University Church, which the Communists dynamited. The church will be rebuilt with an organ designed but never built by Gottfried Silbermann, the great master of organ building during the baroque era. Unfortunately, unemployment in Leipzig is around 20 percent, while in other eastern cities of the former DDR it is as high as 28 percent.

Leipzig is a city of music. Excellent street musicians play the classics everywhere within the ancient confines of this once-walled burg. Walks to the Bach Museum, Mendelssohn House, Musical Instrument Museum or a concert are always a treat. We often paused to hear a flautist, a xylophonist, even a full brass choir playing Henry Purcell’s Trumpet Tune in D.

Thomaskirche

The first of Saturday’s three festival concerts opened with Ulrich Böhme playing Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue on the Bach Organ in the north gallery of Thomaskirche. This 4-manual, 60-stop organ was built by Woehl in 2000 and replaces an earlier 3-manual instrument built in 1966 by Schuke. It duplicates the organ that Bach knew as a boy in Eisenach. While its location is certainly not what Bach would specify, the large-scale principals and overall tonal design provide the “gravitas” he found so necessary. And the organ sounds well throughout the church despite its location on the side. Jürgen Wolf playing all 30 Goldberg Variations on harpsichord at Nikolaikirche followed. The evening concert in the Gewandhaus featured fortepianos and orchestra in performances of Bach and Mendelssohn works.

Sunday’s services at Thomaskirche and Nikolaikirche are like those in Bach’s day and always include the performance of a Bach cantata at the liturgy of the word. The afternoon festival concert, again on the Thomaskirche Bach Organ, was a reconstruction of Mendelssohn’s organ recital of August 6, 1840, performed by Michael Schönheit. His improvisation on the Passion Chorale in the style of Mendelssohn was similar in structure to the Sixth Sonata and brought a standing ovation, a much less common occurrence in Europe than the United States.

Among the many excellent concerts, Matthias Eisenberg’s Ascension Day performance of  Max Reger’s Fantasie and Fugue on B-A-C-H stands out in particular. The entire sell-out crowd remained through a long, standing ovation until he improvised an equally stunning encore on Thomaskirche’s west gallery organ. That instrument was built by Wilhelm Sauer in 1899, who then extended it to 88 stops in 1907. A fund to restore this big tubular pneumatic has so far raised 100,000 of the 300,000 euros being sought.

Nikolaikirche

A similar romantic organ is almost restored in the west gallery of Nikolaikirche, but was not ready for this year’s Bachfest. It was built by Friedrich Ladegast in 1862 and expanded to 84 stops by Sauer from 1902 to 1903. Near the apse, the church also has a 17-stop organ that was built by Eule in 2002 in the style of Italian organs of the baroque era. As Kantor of Thomaskirche, J. S. Bach was also was the city’s civic director of music, giving him duties at Nikolaikirche. Thus, it was here that many of his cantatas and other works were performed for the first time.

Rötha

A bus trip on May 17 took us to Rötha, a city with two Silbermann organs. Dedicated in 1721 by Johann Kuhnau, the Silbermann in St. George church was the model for the Marilyn Mason Organ built by Fisk for the University of Michigan. A smaller Silbermann at St. Mary’s church was dedicated in 1722. Some of our group joined a masterclass with Ulrich Böhme, while others went on to Weimar. The pedalboards on these old Silbermann organs take some getting used. Not only are they flat, but the spacing is different from modern pedalboards. They also lack a low C-sharp and other notes at the top end. As Marilyn Mason explained, heel and toe pedaling worked out for pieces learned on a modern pedalboard must be changed to a technique using mostly the toes.

European acoustics demand slower tempi and proper phrasing to a greater extent then the dry acoustics of most American churches. For speech reinforcement, Germans take an approach that differs from our boom-box public address systems. Stässer loudspeakers, measuring approximately 18 x 21/2 x 21/2 inches, are mounted on each of a church’s columns, with electronic reinforcement delayed to match the time sound takes to travel. This permits clarity of the spoken word without compromising the divine ambiance for which the music was composed.

Gottfried Silbermann

Gottfried Silbermann was born in 1683, the son of a craftsman-woodworker. From 1702 to 1707 he studied organ-building with his elder brother Andreas in Strasbourg and Thiery in Paris. A condition was that Gottfried would not work in his brother’s territory. So in 1710 Gottfried returned to his native Saxony and set up shop centrally in Freiberg. His first commission was for a small, one-manual and pedal, 15-stop organ for his hometown of Frauenstein. So well-received was this first instrument, completed in 1711, that in the same year Freiberg’s Dom St. Marien (Cathedral of St. Mary) invited the young builder, then only 28 years old, to construct a new organ of three manuals and pedal with 44 stops. This was completed in 1714. Thereafter Silbermann built some 45 instruments, 31 of which are still extant. All are located within or very close to the Saxon borders. 

Gottfried Silbermann was given the official title of Court Organbuilder by Frederick I, at that time King of Poland and Duke of Saxony. Similarly, J. S. Bach had the title of Court Composer. The two were great friends, and often discussed the techniques and acoustics of organ building. Silbermann was Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach’s godfather and a regular visitor to the Bach home in Leipzig. The two even worked together on the escapement mechanism for the world’s first fortepianos.

Silbermann believed that an organ should look as beautiful as it sounds, and his organ cases are truly beautiful. Also, in a play on words of his name, this “silver man” was known for the silver sound of his pipes. His organs typically have a Hauptwerk that is scaled for gravitas, a Brustwerk scaled to be delicate, an Oberwerk to be penetrating, and a Pedal scaled for a grandness of sound that produces foundation without necessarily using a lot of pipes. Compared to Arp Schnitger, the organs of Silbermann are more spacious with the pipes less densely arranged. 

Eisleben and Halle

Another bus trip took us to Eisleben. Here we visited the houses where Martin Luther was born and died, and the church where he was baptized. Further on in Halle, we stopped to play two organs in the Marktkirche, where Georg Friedrich Händel was baptized and learned to play the organ. That organ is a one-manual instrument of six stops built in 1664 by Reichel. It has all of its original pipes as well as meantone tuning. At the other end is a much larger organ in a baroque case. It is a three-manual, 40-stop instrument built by Schuke in 1984. Both had recently been restored, following extensive damage to the church from a broken city steam pipe. We then visited the Handel House, which has several chamber organs, and we took turns playing the newly restored organ built by Johann Gottlieb Mauer in 1770.

Altenburg, Störmthal and Pomßen

On May 21 we visited Altenburg. It is here that Heinrich Trost built an organ in the Schloßkirche from 1736 to 1739, the same year Bach played it. Eule restored it in the mid-1970s. After walking up well-worn stone steps in one of the castle’s circular stairwells, we found ourselves in the balcony opposite this magnificent instrument. Demonstrating was Dr. Felix Friedrich, a scholar of Johann Ludwig Krebs. Marilyn Mason, who was familiar with the instrument, pulled stops for those of us who played and offered suggestions. Among the more interesting stops is a viola that speaks with an attack and harmonic development nearly identical to that of a bowed string instrument, making it ideal for trio sonatas. 

Further on in the village church of Störmthal is the only Hildebrandt organ still in its original condition. Zacharias Hildebrandt was a student of Gottfried Silbermann. He built the two-manual instrument that was inspected and approved by his friend J. S. Bach in 1723. Kantor Thomas Orlovski demonstrated the instrument and registered it for those of us who played. 

The afternoon took us to Pomßen’s 750-year-old Wehrkirche. Originally built as a fortress, this Romanesque church is home to the oldest organ in Saxony. The instrument has one manual and pedals that play 12 stops, plus a Cimbelstern and Vogelgesang. Built in 1570, the organ was purchased second-hand to save money, and it was installed in 1690. It has been well maintained since its restoration in 1934 and was a thrill to play. 

Naumburg

Several of us had expressed an interest in playing the newly restored organ in Wenzelkirche, Naumburg, which was not on our tour. It is the largest instrument built by Zacharias Hildebrandt from 1743 to 1746, comprising 53 stops on three manuals and pedals. His old teacher Gottfried Silbermann examined the instrument and approved it, finding it to be as beautiful as his own but much larger. J. S. Bach had assisted with its design; and, when he played it, he found all the qualities he liked: thundering basses, strong mixtures, and beautiful solo stops. We convinced enough in our group to charter a bus and rent the organ the morning of May 22. 

Words can describe neither the baroque splendor nor the divine ambience of the vast St. Wenzel interior. There, Kantor Irene Greulich demonstrated the organ. Frau Greulich is a fine organist who has performed and given masterclasses at the University of Michigan. She and Marilyn Mason have a friendship that began before Germany’s reunification, when the organ had been playable from an electro-pneumatic console of the 1930s in the balcony below. They registered the organ for those of us who played, thus ensuring that nobody touched the original pen and ink inscriptions in the drawknobs.

A walk to the Dom SS. Peter and Paul revealed a handsome new organ under construction in a fenced-in area in the nave. No information was available, but among the pipes to be installed were wooden resonators, presumably for a Posaune. The building is late Romanesque and Gothic from the 13th century.

That evening we attended a very fine concert of The Creation by Joseph Haydn at the Hochschüle for Music and Theater. It was sung by soloists and choir from the school and the Leipzig Baroque Orchestra, Roland Borger conducting. We heard it as Die Schöpfung, Haydn’s own translation from English for German audiences.

The last day of Bachfest included breathtaking performances of the St. Matthew Passion, the Mass in B Minor, and pieces written for organ, four hands, played by Ulrich Böhme and his wife Martina at Thomaskirche. The Matthäus-Passion performance was a reconstruction of that given by Mendelssohn on April 4, 1841. Thus, orchestration made use of instruments that had replaced those of Bach’s time. A continuo organ was played with the orchestra. The chorales, however, made use of the Gewandhaus’ 89-stop instrument built in 1981 by the Schuke-Orgelbau of Potsdam. The festival closing concert of the B-minor Mass was in Thomaskirche, with 85-year-old Eric Ericson conducting.

Freiberg and Frauenstein

After we checked out of our hotel, our bus took us southeast to Freiberg. There, in the Freiberg Dom we played two fine Silbermann organs. The larger was built from 1711 to 1714 and has a particularly remarkable case with ornamentation by Johann Adam Georgi. It has 44 stops across three manuals and pedal. The small organ of 1719 has 14 stops on one manual and pedal. 

We continued to the Silbermann Museum in Frauenstein, located in a medieval castle, and the only organ museum devoted to just one builder. There, Dr. Marilyn Mason played a short recital on the museum’s replica of a Silbermann organ. It is a copy by Wegscheider Organ Builders, Dresden, of an instrument Silbermann built in 1732 for Etzdorf, and is a working model demonstrating the basic principles of Baroque organ construction.

Part of the attraction of a Marilyn Mason tour is her ability to unlock the doors to organ lofts. She was the first woman to have played in Westminster Abbey, Egypt, and many other places around the world. She is also a very helpful coach in unlocking the secrets of performance for a broad array of organ literature. Dr. Mason offered our group many pointers on the performance of baroque music, and personally advised me on ways to practice the difficult passages and tricky rhythms of Jehan Alain’s Trois Danses, which she had worked out for her own brilliant performances.

Dresden

In Dresden, our excellent tour leader, Franz Mittermayr of Matterhorn Travel, treated us with a surprise visit to the Hofkirche (Roman Catholic cathedral). There we played the magnificent three-manual, 47-stop Silbermann of 1755 that had been hidden in the countryside during World War II. This cathedral was destroyed in the allied firebombing, but the organ was back among us in a newly restored building. For that we gave grateful thanks. Unfortunately, another fine Silbermann in the Frauenkirche was destroyed. A 3-million euro restoration of that church is nearing completion using original, numbered stones wherever possible. A new organ will replicate the destroyed Silbermann. 

It has been said that Germany has too many churches. This is because, like elsewhere, church attendance is down. In Germany approximately nine percent of the population is Protestant, while two percent is Roman Catholic. In the former DDR of Eastern Germany under the Communists, religion was discouraged, so attendance fell even further. Maintaining and restoring these ancient churches is beyond the reach of most congregations, so they survive through tourism and entrance fees. Many are considered museums and are given government funding. In Naumburg, for example, the city paid for the restoration of the Hildebrandt organ. On average, a group pays an entrance fee of 150 euros or about $185 U.S. for each church visited. In Leipzig, the group paid entrance fees on top of concert ticket prices. This was all included in the cost of our tour. An organist traveling alone to play benefit recitals will pay rental fees of similar amounts. 

For a first visit to the Saxony region, this tour provided the best way to play these instruments and learn about them. While our personal playing times were seldom more than five minutes each, the cost was spread over the entire group. An organ tour also makes all the preliminary arrangements to open doors that are otherwise locked. The University of Michigan is known for its excellent tours, and this one proved why. Matterhorn Travel provided us with a guide who had extensive knowledge of the area, numerous contacts, and the ability to run things so smoothly that we never encountered delays.