Text No. 1
Ps. 147:12–14

Text No. 9
Martin Luther, 1529

First performance
Inauguration of the New Town Council,
30 August 1723, Leipzig

For this special event, Bach was always paid an additional sum to compose a festive work, one that aptly reflected a balance between veneration of authority worthy of the Old Testament, and everyday city life – including a nod to the Saxon dialect of the time.
And Bach did not disappoint his superiors: with the splendid overture in the introductory chorus of cantata BWV 119 (opulently scored for four trumpets, timpani, two recorders, three oboes, strings, four-part choir and basso continuo) the baroque master presented a composition of truly regal character. The middle section then weaves the psalm text line for line into a score of alternating fugue-like passages, block-like calls and sparsely voiced episodes. Underpinned throughout by a driving continuo line, the section distinctly embodies an expansive gesture of blessing for the “children of Jerusalem” and thus by proxy for the city’s subjects.
The tenor recitative praises the “blessed city” of Leipzig, which is envisioned as the Lord’s chosen dwelling place and therefore a community governed by divine rule. Through its reference to the words of the Psalm, “where righteousness and peace kiss”, an ideal of citizenry is proffered that may well have raised a knowing smile from some in the audience…
The tenor aria expands the concept of this sheltered life under wise rulers to an idyll of great comfort: “Well thee, thou linden people, Well thee, thou art well off”. Enveloped in the hauntingly beautiful sound of two oboe da caccia and gentle, dotted rhythms, the traditional figure of the apolitical “Saxon Michel” could readily surrender to the blessed repose of the justly ruled and light his tobacco pipe in peace…
The bass recitative, by contrast, calls to the fore the majestic aura of the city’s government. By contrasting praise of authority with faithful gratitude to the heavenly father through an abrupt change in voicing and key, Bach skilfully raises the extended accompagnato to a masterly orchestrated reflection of virtue.
This section is followed by an astonishing aria that is virtually unrivalled in the realm of baroque musical symbolism. While the text “Authority is God’s endowment, indeed, of God an image true” seems predestined for bass voice and powerful wind parts, Bach foils these expectations so thoroughly (solo alto and two unison recorders!) that one must assume he was consciously flaunting the rules. Indeed, the result is a musical portrayal of transience in which the derisive laughter of the recorders mirrors the puffed-up nature of the city councillors’ temporary and mortal rule. A good Lutheran and well versed in the bible, Bach differentiated clearly between token deference paid to the authorities and the true humility that behoves all children of God.
Accordingly, the soprano recitative expounds on the burdens of office, ere great rejoicing breaks forth: in an expansive concerto chorus for four voices and poly-choral orchestral tutti, the acclamation of the collected citizenry is musically re-enacted, while communal tradition (the sage, patrician fugue theme) and trade-town finesse are united in such a way as to show Bach at the height of his compositional powers.
Following this triumphal procession, a sparsely accompanied soprano recitative reiterates the beseeching entreaty that Leipzig’s citizens may continue to receive the undeserved blessing of being children of God.
This attitude of a “humble prayer” would seem to correspond perfectly to the plain closing chorale of the score, but since the performance parts are lost, we cannot know whether Bach intended the vocal parts to be doubled by the orchestra. The many pauses and fermatas in the score present an additional mystery. Did the composer expressly wish a “still” music and a gesture of blessing as suggested by the text? Or should the “gaps” be animated with fanfare, as typical of many of his closing chorales and the Christmas oratorio? We have thus recorded two versions: one that reflects the unadorned score, and a second with lively wind parts, composed by Thomas Leininger, that refute the apparent awkwardness of the key.