Johann Ludwig Bach was a distant cousin – a second cousin, I
believe – of Johann Sebastian Bach. Born at Thal, near Eisenach,
he was the eldest son of Johann Jacob Bach, an organist, who
guided his son’s early musical studies. In 1699 Johann Ludwig
entered the service of Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, as
a violinist. Eventually, he attained the post of Kapellmeister
in 1711, a role he fulfilled until his death. With over three
decades of service to the ducal court it is unsurprising that
he became known as ‘the Meiningen Bach’. As Kapellmeister he
was required to compose for the duke and his output was sufficiently
well regarded by his more illustrious cousin, Johann Sebastian,
that, according to Christoph Wolff, the Leipzig Kantor had a
number of Ludwig’s compositions in his personal music library
and he performed no less than eighteen cantatas by Johann Ludwig
at Sunday services in Leipzig between February and September
1726.
Between 1706 and 1724 the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen was Ernst Ludwig
I. According to Peter Wollny’s very useful booklet note, the
Duke was something of a religious poet, who produced many cantata
librettos, which were used not only by Johann Ludwig but also
by Johann Sebastian as well as by other composers. The Duke
went so far as to write the sermon for his own funeral. He also
chose the biblical text for his obsequies and composed a strophic
song text, specifically to be used as the basis for his funeral
music. On his death the text was expanded by an anonymous hand
to furnish the text for Johann Ludwig’s Trauermusik.
It’s quite a remarkable composition, not least in terms of its
scale and the forces required. In this performance it lasts
for just short of eighty minutes. The scoring is luxuriant.
There is a double choir. On this recording the singers of the
RIAS Kammerchor comprise 11/7/8/8. The choirs are accompanied
by two orchestras. The first consists of strings (here
3/3/2/1/1) and organ. The second boasts the same complement
plus 4 flutes, 2 oboes, bassoon and lute - as well as timpani
and three trumpets, which appear only in the third and final
part of the work. Actually, I wonder if there’s a slight error
in Harmonia Mundi’s exemplary documentation because in at least
one number, the alto/tenor duet in Part II, I’m sure I hear
a pair of recorders, which are not included in the list of performers
– perhaps the flautists double on recorders?
The structure of the work is very logical and it’s divided into
three parts. In the first, human life is depicted as a prison
in which the soul is confined. In Part II the Soul, freed from
this captivity, ascends to the gates of Heaven to which, in
Part III, the Soul is admitted amid general rejoicing. All this
is illustrated through a series of short arias and recitatives
with the choirs commenting in choruses or chorales. In all,
the work consists of twenty-six separate numbers.
Bach’s music, it must be admitted, doesn’t achieve the same
profundity or level of technical innovation that one encounters
almost as a matter of course in the music of his more illustrious
cousin – but that’s no disgrace: we’re comparing here an evidently
very proficient composer with a genius. Johann Ludwig’s music
deserves to be judged on its own merits and these are far from
inconsiderable.
Part I contains some fine movements. The arias here and elsewhere
often seem to have quite an operatic feel. The first soprano
aria, for example, which is dramatically delivered by Anna Prohaska,
is quite florid in style. Even more florid is the tenor aria
that we hear shortly afterwards – indeed, all the tenor arias
are technically challenging though Maximilian Schmitt sounds
to be well on top of his music. Right at the end of Part I comes
an extended chorus, ‘Meine Bande sind zurissen’ in which the
breakage of the Soul’s bonds is powerfully depicted: the work
of the RIAS Kammerchor is very impressive here, as is the case
throughout the performance.
The tone of Part II becomes increasingly optimistic as the music
unfolds. Nowhere is this better illustrated than by Bach’s use
of a chorale, which is first heard setting the words ‘Herr Jesu
Christ, wahr’r Mensch und Gott’. At first we only hear two verses
and both words and music are quiet and prayerful. A few minutes
later, however, the same music - and, I presume, words from
the same hymn - returns and this time five stanzas are set,
each one becoming more confident. Finally, in the closing number
of Part II we hear the chorale once more and this time its progress
is frequently interspersed with ‘Hallelujah’.
This has taken us to Part III and to the gates of Heaven. Cue
the trumpets and drums. These instruments are deployed in the
opening chorus, to which they add suitable majesty. Later on,
the last aria of the work is a proud bass example, the scoring
of which is enriched by multiple trumpets. The final chorus,
‘In dir, Jerusalem, du neue Gottesstadt’ becomes increasingly
jubilant and elaborate and it leads without a pause into a concluding
chorale, which is as noble as it is festive.
This work is a revelation. I’ve never heard it before: it may
well be receiving its first recording here. If this is the work’s
recording debut then it could scarcely receive finer advocacy.
The singing, both choral and solo, is uniformly excellent and
the playing of Akademie für Alte Musik, Berlin is agile and
extremely skilful. Hans-Christoph Rademann directs the performance
authoritatively, ensuring the appropriate gravitas is maintained,
especially earlier on, but also encouraging the adoption of
a lively and more extrovert tone later on, as befits the music.
Harmonia Mundi’s presentation is superb. The sound is wonderfully
clear and full. The documentation is excellent, including some
fine colour illustrations. Johann Ludwig Bach’s masterpiece
has been splendidly served here and I urge collectors to investigate
this very fine issue.
John Quinn
Anna Prohaska (soprano); Ivonne Fuchs (alto); Maximilian Schmitt (tenor); Andreas Wolf (bass)
