Johann Sebastian Bach (40 page)

There are no documents that explain the circumstances surrounding Bach's trip to Hamburg. Most illuminating, however, is the relevant passage in the Obituary, taking up more than twice the space than the entire period of his Cöthen capellmeistership:

 

During this time, about the year 1722 [
sic
], he made a journey to Hamburg and was heard for more than two hours on the fine organ of St. Catharine's before the Magistrate and many other distinguished persons of the city, to their general astonishment. The aged organist of this church, Johann Adam Reinken, who at that time was nearly a hundred years old, listened to him with particular pleasure. Bach, at the request of those present, performed extempore the chorale “An Wasserflüssen Babylon” at great length (for almost half an hour) and in different ways, just as the better organists of Hamburg in the past had been used to do at the Saturday vespers. Particularly on this, Reinken made Bach the following compliment: “I thought that this art was dead, but I see that in you it still lives.” This verdict of Reinken's was the more unexpected since he himself had set the same chorale, many years before, in the manner described above; and this fact, as also that otherwise he had always been somewhat inclined to be envious, was not unknown to our Bach. Reinken thereupon pressed him to visit him and showed him much courtesy.
⁵⁹

 

This report, first of all, stresses Bach's continuing preeminence as an organ virtuoso who had not lost any of his remarkable capacity since giving up his post at Weimar. The reaction of the venerable ninety-seven-year-old Reinken to Bach's organ playing can hardly be overrated. Bach was regarded as the only organist of rank in his generation who not only preserved the traditions of the seventeenth century but developed them further. For Bach, therefore, Reinken's pronouncement must have been more than a simple compliment, because he would have sensed its historical significance. Indeed, he probably shaped its precise formulation, since he was undoubtedly the primary transmitter of the Reinken quote and hence responsible for its inclusion in the annals of music history.
⁶⁰
Moreover, that Bach performed “before the magistrate and many other distinguished persons of the city, to their general astonishment,” indicates that the event was prearranged, advertised, and apparently attended by such prominent people as Erdmann Neumeister, the cantata librettist and senior minister of St. Jacobi, and Johann Mattheson, music director of the Hamburg cathedral.

No specific date is documented, but Bach's organ recital probably followed the Vespers service at St. Catharine's on Saturday, November 16, during which he may have presented his dialogue cantata “Ich hatte viel Bekümmernis in meinem Herzen,” BWV 21, an earlier work whose text (“I had much distress in my heart, but your consolation restores my soul”) and music at this particular point in Bach's life would have revealed a deeply personal dimension.
⁶¹
The original sources of this Weimar cantata reveal definite traces of a performance during the Cöthen years (in the version BCA99b). A detailed reference to this work, with critical remarks on its text declamation, shows up in Mattheson's
Critica Musica
of 1725,
⁶²
the more remarkably since Mattheson would hardly have had any other chance of getting to know this cantata than at Hamburg in 1720. Similarly, Mattheson cites theme and countersubject of Bach's G-minor Fugue in his
Grosse General-Bass-Schule
of 1731.
⁶³
His statement “I knew well where this theme originated and who worked it out artfully on paper,” probably refers to the same event, suggesting that the Fantasy and Fugue in G minor, BWV 542, formed part of Bach's organ recital program, not as an improvised piece but—appropriate for a work of such complexity—one that was artfully written out. Likewise, Bach's chorale improvisations may have involved some premeditation and may indeed have drawn on two versions of his large-scale four-and five-part elaborations of the hymn “An Wasserflüssen Babylon,” BWV 653a–b, one of which features prominent use of double pedal.

Even though all these details regarding Bach's performances at St. Catharine's remain conjectural, they support the notion of how carefully Bach prepared his Hamburg appearance. And if the dialogue cantata BWV 21 was no longer truly representative of his more recent achievements, it was, with its eleven movements, his most extended work in the cantata genre. BWV 542, too, even though its fugue was composed before 1720, shows thoroughly innovative approaches that are immediately recognizable: a fantasy of exceptional rhetorical power and unparalleled harmonic scope, with towering chromatic chords over descending pedal scales that create the illusion of endless space;
⁶⁴
an exemplary fugue on a symmetrically constructed theme (in itself a transformation of a Dutch folk tune, probably a special homage to Reinken's Dutch connections);
⁶⁵
and a texture of exciting flexibility, with an uncompromising obbligato pedal part.

The event at St. Catharine's, the church of the Hamburg magistrate, could never have been arranged without the patriarchal Reinken having a hand in it. It may even be that this nonagenarian, who over two generations had played a key role in Hamburg's musical life, was the driving force behind Bach's appearance in Hamburg, together with his son-in-law Andreas Kniller, organist at St. Peter's and, like Reinken, a member of the search committee for the St. Jacobi post. But the Jacobi affair was essentially reduced to a side show because the standard rules of competition would not permit preferential treatment of any single candidate; and Bach was indeed a candidate for the position—how serious a candidate we will probably never know. While there is no evidence that he truly intended to leave the Cöthen capellmeistership after only three years (even with his less idealized view of the post), and while he himself hardly took the initiative to apply for the Hamburg organist post, he was certainly willing to explore the situation. So at a meeting on November 21,
⁶⁶
the trustees of St. Jacobi named Bach as one of eight candidates,
⁶⁷
determined the selection process, set the date and modalities for the competition, and declared that “all the competent [candidates] should be admitted to trial, if they requested to be.” The audition took place after the Thursday evening prayer service on November 28, but only four competitors participated. The church minutes specify that two withdrew, another did not show up, and “Mr. Bach had to return to his prince on November 23.” The formal election was supposed to be held on December 12, but since the four professional judges were not satisfied with the results of the audition,
⁶⁸
the trustee Johann Luttas asked for a postponement of the decision “until he should receive a letter from Mr. Johann Sebastian Bach, Capellmeister at Cöthen”—an unmistakable indication that Bach, even though he had left the city, was considered the top candidate. At least Luttas and pastor Neumeister had heard Bach perform at St. Catharine's and strongly supported his candidacy. At the next meeting, on December 19, Luttas had Bach's letter in hand, which he then “read aloud in full.” Here, Bach apparently asked that his name be removed from consideration, “whereupon it was resolved in God's Name to proceed to the choice, and thus Johann Joachim Heitmann was chosen by a majority vote,
viva voce
, as organist and clerk of the St. Jacobi Church.”

The newly elected organist demonstrated his gratitude by the payment of 4,000 marks, in deference to a deplorable custom regarding the sale of municipal and church offices that had prevailed for some time in Hamburg.
⁶⁹
Johann Mattheson did not mince words when he wrote in
Der musicalische Patriot
of 1728:

 

I remember, and a whole large congregation will probably also remember, that a few years ago a certain great virtuoso, whose merits have since brought him a handsome Cantorate, presented himself as candidate for the post of organist in a town of no small size, exhibited his playing on the most various and greatest organs, and aroused universal admiration for his ability; but there presented himself at the same time, among other unskilled journeymen, the son of a well-to-do artisan, who was better at preluding with his talers than with his fingers, and he obtained the post, as may be easily conjectured, despite the fact that almost everyone was angry about it.
⁷⁰

 

Since Bach's letter to Johann Luttas has not survived, it is impossible to tell what prompted his premature departure and whether he withdrew when he learned that a substantial bribe was expected if he won the appointment; other personal reasons and Prince Leopold's objections may also have played a role. Nevertheless, the circumstances surrounding the appointment apparently generated not just chagrin in Hamburg society but real anger. Indeed, they provoked Erdmann Neumeister to a public condemnation in his Christmas sermon shortly after the new organist was appointed, as Mattheson relates:

 

The eloquent chief preacher, who had not concurred in the Simoniacal deliberations, expounded in the most splendid fashion the gospel of the music of the angels at the birth of Christ, in which connection the recent incident of the rejected artist gave him quite naturally the opportunity to reveal his thoughts, and to close his sermon with something like the following pronouncement: he was firmly convinced that even if one of the angels of Bethlehem should come down from Heaven, one who played divinely and wished to become organist of St. Jacobi, but had no money, he might just as well fly away again.

 

The Hamburg affair seems to have had no repercussions whatsoever at the Cöthen court or in the court capelle. Bach received permission the following year to make a major new appointment to the capelle, perhaps because of the acclaim he met with on his trip. And the summer of 1721 saw a young soprano singer by the name of Anna Magdalena Wilcke appear on the Cöthen scene, not just as an ordinary court musician but carrying the higher rank of a chamber musician. We don't know how Bach knew her, where he heard her for the first time, nor where and when he hired her. His professional connections were manifold and widespread, so it would not have taken much effort to find a capable vocalist for the Cöthen court. But this appointment had, perhaps even from the beginning, deeply personal implications. Anna Magdalena is mentioned for the first time in the register of communicants at the St. Agnus Church for June 15, 1721 (the first Sunday after Trinity), where she is listed as “14. Mar. Magd. Wilken.” Some three months later, her name appears in the September 25 baptismal register of a baby born to the palace cellarman, Christian Hahn; she is listed as godmother in two different entries, as “Miss Magdalena Wilckens, princely singer here” and “Magdalena Wülckin, chamber musician.”
⁷¹

Curiously, Bach's name appears in the same documents on the same dates. The June communion register lists him as “65. Herr Capellmeister Bach.” Before this, Bach's name is found in the register four times, from October 1718 to August 1720. In other words, he received communion only once or twice a year, so the joint occurrence of the names Wilcke and Bach may not be coincidental, even though their names appear far apart (spouses are usually listed consecutively). In the September baptismal register, however, Bach is also designated a godparent, and his name is followed immediately by that of Magdalena Wilcke. Their joint appearance here may be more meaningful, because of a prevailing custom that couples engaged to be married serve together as godparents. As engagements were never officially recorded, we cannot be sure that that was the case here. Of course, neither document offers the remotest hint as to when and how Bach got to know the singer, but certain clues lend credence to a plausible explanation.

Bach is known to have taken only one professional trip during 1721,
⁷²
in conjunction with an early August guest performance in Schleiz at the court of Heinrich XI Count von Reuss, for whose great-grandfather Heinrich Schütz had composed his
Musicalische Exequien
.
⁷³
Traveling from Cöthen to Reuss County in southeast Thuringia would have taken Bach through Weissenfels, which lies about halfway between the two and where he had well-established connections dating back to his first guest performance there in 1713; a Weissenfels stopover would have provided an opportunity to touch base with former colleagues in the court capelle of the duke of Saxe-Weissenfels. From about 1718, this ensemble included the trumpeter Johann Caspar Wilcke, who had previously served as “court and field trumpeter” to the duke of SaxeZeitz. Wilcke's son Johann Caspar, Jr., was at the time trumpeter at the court of Anhalt-Zerbst, a principality bordering on Anhalt-Cöthen. Wilcke also had four daughters: Anna Katharina, married to the Weissenfels court groom and trumpeter Georg Christian Meissner; Johanna Christina, married to Johann Andreas Krebs, trumpeter colleague of the younger Wilcke in the Zerbst court capelle; Dorothea Erdmuthe, married to Christian August Nicolai, a fellow trumpeter of the older Wilcke in the Weissenfels capelle; and the unmarried Anna Magdalena. Christina and Magdalena had received thorough training as singers, most likely by the famous
cantatrice
Pauline Kellner, who was engaged at the Weissenfels court from 1716.
⁷⁴
The two sisters may have functioned at the court as “singing maids,” comparable to the two Monjou daughters in Cöthen (see Table 7.1).
⁷⁵
The first documented public performance that included Magdalena Wilcke occurred in 1720 or 1721. Without a specific date, the court account books at Zerbst record a payment of “6 talers for the trumpeter Wilke of Weissenfels who has performed here, and 12 talers for his daughter who performed with the capelle a few times”
⁷⁶
one notes that the nineteen-year-old singer earned twice as much as her father (but possibly for several performances).