Bach vs. Telemann: A Baroque Smackdown

Sin! Everybody's favorite subject. Or not.

Still, it's hard to avoid if you spend your life working in a church setting Lutheran Chorales for choir and organ, like the two fellows whose works you are going to meet today. They've both been given the task to set the chorale "Durch Adams fall ist ganz verderbt" which is a good old text and tune dealing with the concept of Adam's fall (a.k.a "the first sin") in the 3rd chapter of Genesis. In English the title reads "Through Adam's Fall Everything got corrupted/spoiled/ruined" depending on how you translate that last verb. Personally I like "spoiled." I think our composers are ready with their selections. They were given their assignment some 300 years ago so I think they've finished by now.

In one corner, a fellow by the name of Bach. His setting of the tune is, predictably, a bit complicated. There are three layers: the tune itself, a "falling" figure in the pedal, and a "slithery" line (for the snake in the garden") in the middle, made up of the suspicious chromaticism that makes everyone musically uncomfortable. Here's what it sounds like when you put it all together:

Bach: Durch Adams fall ist ganz verderbt

In the other corner, a Mr. Georg Telemann. Telemann was a contemporary of Bach, even a family friend. Bach chose him to be the godfather of one of his kids, so they must have been fairly close.

But (in true 21st century American "reality" TV fashion) we can only have one winner! One of you will win, and the other will have to pack his quill pen and go home!

Let's see if it's Telemann. His rendering of the chorale tune is more straightforward and dramatic than Bach's. You might find it easier listening. You might even be able to dance to it (is it just me or does that opening sound a bit like the theme to Monday Night Football?) Finally, it's shorter. Here it is:

Telemann: Durch Adams fall ist ganz verderbt

So here's the question, celebrity judges: whose is the best? You can vote in the poll at the top of the page. And in the comments below, you can tell us how you feel about each of them and why you voted the way you did.

Does Bach have something to say about the nature of sin that Telemann doesn't? Is the Telemann more viscerally arresting? Is it over the top? Is there a reason he was so popular with the people of Leipzig? Or is that a bad thing? What are you listening for and do you find it?

----

Now for a little soap opera. Telemann eventually got a job in Hamburg, but in his younger days spent a few years in Leipzig, where he got in really good with the town council and the public, and really got on the nerves of a Johann Kuhnau, director of the city's churches. Telemann seemed to have the ability to know what the public liked, and to incorporate all the latest trends in his music, where the much older Kuhnau was a conservative who wanted all the best for his churches, and was not pleased that the charismatic Telemann formed a 40 member ensemble that siphoned off most of the best musicians in town to play operas instead of church services. When Telemann got himself installed by the town council in one of the churches not under Kuhnau's control a real turf war ensued. At one point Kuhnau fell ill and the town council was really hoping the old guy would die so they could replace him with Telemann. Nice, huh?

Fast forward 15 years. Kuhnau "finally" dies and the job is open. Telemann, who is now in Hamburg, applies, but is apparently not really interesting in moving again. Basically he uses the job offer he gets from Leipzig (because of course the council is falling all over itself to have him) to get a significant salary increase from the Hamburg officials in order to keep him at home (a little free agency from the Baroque period). Telemann, satisfied with his enormous raise, withdraws his application and another pool of applicants is auditioned. Eventually, one J. S. Bach gets the job. Meantime, one council member is quoted at a meeting saying in frustration, "well, if we can't have the best (meaning Telemann) we'll just have to settle for mediocrity (meaning, indirectly, Bach, et. al),"  thus earning the musicological evil-eye (and a lot of nasty remarks) for centuries!

We're All Going to Die....weeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

It's been a rough couple of months for human civilization. It always is.

First, we were told that an ancient (and still living) people from South America had predicted the end of the world, which was conveniently going to happen RIGHT NOW! (O MY GOD!)

The funny thing about that was that right before the Mayan Apocalypse  a few people were on the radio saying that, really, the Mayans weren't predicting the end of the world, it was just the end of a major cycle of their calendar, the way the year 2000 was the end of a major cycle of ours. To which the major media responded: LALALA, WE CAN'T HEAR YOU! WE ARE TOO BUSY TELLING EVERYONE THE WORLD IS GOING TO END AND WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE! Have a nice day, and don't forget we are your number one source for news (and mindless panic)!

Then on the first of January those of us in the United States went over the Fiscal Cliff. At midnight, my wife and I held hands and screamed like we were going down a roller coaster. It was fun.

But it turns out we are still here, disaster averted (or at least deferred), and so I have another blog post to write. As I do, I can't help wondering what the major apocalyptic disaster for the month of February will be. Any ideas?

This being the part of the blog that deals with church music, I thought I'd trot out a fun little piece I played last year for Lent, when we are thinking more seriously about our mortality. It was written by a Mr. Georg Phillip Telemann, a contemporary of Bach, and it is based on the hymn, "All Men Must Die." I made a recording of it the morning I saw it for the first time, so what you are hearing is decidedly a first impression:

Telemann: Alle Menschen Mussen Sterben (first version)

I don't know what your ears heard, but for me, listening to it again after several months, it seemed pretty cheerful, even a bit silly. Now it is possible that Mr. Telemann had his theologian hat on, telling us all that we need not fear death because Christ died for our sins and we have a glorious eternity to look forward to (actually, Bach had ways of incorporating theological constructs into his music, but with Telemann I'm not so sure). And as for the sunny major key, the hymn tune came with that part supplied already and there wasn't much Herr Telemann could do about that. But the third part...well, there's were I may be culpable.

Telemann left absolutely no directions regarding organ registration, so the choice to play the whole thing on one single flute stop is my own. And he didn't say anything about the speed of the piece, which may be the deciding factor in how the piece goes down. I played it pretty briskly. Why, you may ask?

Well, it's hard to pin down. As I looked at the piece, I noticed all the repeated notes, and the little falling gestures, and it just looked so good-natured and slightly daffy that I played it that way.

About a week later, I repented. Still not having played it in church, I thought, well, maybe if I played it a bit slower it would have more gravitas. Maybe the first version was a bit too undignified, I thought. Which is a little odd for my usual tendencies, but we'll discuss that later. You'll note that version two is a minute-and-a-half longer than the first version. I wanted to make sure it had some heft, if not a long face.

Telemann: All Menschen Muss Sterben (second version)

By the time I had gotten around to Sunday, I think I inclined to the first tempo again. I'm curious which one you'd vote for.  Of the 48 Chorale Preludes of Telemann, this is one of my favorites. I can see why he was so popular with the people. Although, if you don't think religion ought to wear a smile...well, I played another piece of Mr. Telemann's for Lent, and a woman told me afterward that it reminded her of the alligators from the Disney movie "Peter Pan."


    

The Karlskirche in Vienna where I played a few of Mr. Telemann's creations. I found the noisy elevator at right, which every five minutes carried workers to the dome for restoration work on the artwork to inspire much devotion and sober contemplation.