J. S. Bach’s setting of the Passion according to St. Matthew is considered one of his greatest works as well as one of the greatest works in the Western classical music canon. A well-known example of an oratorio Passion, a popular sacred genre in the 17th and 18th centuries, the St. Matthew Passion depicts the final days of Jesus Christ, from the Last Supper until his Crucifixion, and was written to be performed as part of Good Friday services. But the emotional scope of the St. Matthew Passion reaches far deeper than a single belief or doctrine, and exceeds the simple storytelling employed by the Baroque oratorio Passions of the time (and earlier), including Bach’s own St. John Passion. A devout Lutheran whose decades-long career composing sacred music was not just a source of income but also a joyful expression of his spiritual beliefs, Bach infused this telling of the Passion of Jesus Christ from the Gospel according to St. Matthew with equal parts reverence, devotion, humanity, and introspection, and created an innovative, masterful score.
The St. Matthew Passion is believed to have been first performed on Good Friday, April 11, 1727, at St. Thomas Church in Leipzig—where Bach served as Kapellmeister from 1723 until his death in 1750—although some sources cite April 15, 1729, as the date of its first performance. The work received at least two other performances during Bach’s lifetime, also at St. Thomas, in 1736 and 1742. In 1736, Bach revised the original St. Matthew Passion, most significantly inserting the choral fantasia “O Mensch, bewein’ dein Sünde groß”—originally the opening chorus of the St. John Passion—as the powerful ending of the first part of the Passion. Bach made further revisions to the work before his death, but it’s the 1736 version that is most often performed today. While preparing this version, Bach laboriously hand-copied the manuscript himself, writing the Biblical passages in red, which many have interpreted as a sign of his affection for the work.
Bach’s St. Matthew Passion further stands out from contemporary and earlier oratorio Passions for its libretto, which combines the requisite Biblical text using Martin Luther’s German translation with Lutheran chorales and hymns as well as free verse written or compiled by the librettist, Picander (the pseudonym of Leipzig poet Christian Friedrich Henrici, who also wrote the texts for many of Bach’s other vocal works). The result is a work that not only tells the story of the Passion of Christ, but also reflects on it. The narrative is told in the recitatives and choruses, while the chorales and hymns represent a communal reflection on the events of the Passion. The solo arias contain moments of profound, personal introspection and meditation. Most significant is Picander’s inclusion of a double chorus split into the Daughters of Zion, representing the people of ancient Jerusalem, and the chorus of the Faithful, representing contemporary Christians. In several of these double choruses—in particular the expansive and sweeping opening chorus—the singers engage in intricate and dramatic dialogues that add further musical and dramatic layers to the story.
Among the most notable and subtle aspects of Bach’s score are the orchestrations for Jesus’s recitatives, which demonstrate Bach’s sensitivity to both religious symbolism and effective musical storytelling. The other recitative sections in the work are examples of secco recitative, in which the singer is accompanied only by the continuo, which shapes the direction of the text with simple, utilitarian musical punctuations. By contrast, Jesus’s recitatives are accompanied by a string section plus continuo, which creates what is often referred to as a musical “halo.” This halo elevates Jesus above the other Biblical characters and underscores his divinity. Tellingly, the only moment when Jesus is not surrounded by the halo is when he voices his first words of doubt while dying on the cross. The halo symbolizing his divinity dissolves; exposed and human, he sings, in Aramaic, “Eli, Eli lama asabthani?” (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).
The first performance of the St. Matthew Passion must have been an awe-inspiring experience for the parishioners in attendance for Good Friday services at St. Thomas. Despite the depth and breadth of its musical, emotional, and spiritual accomplishments, however, the work had little immediate impact beyond Bach’s small corner of the world. In fact, the St. Matthew Passion was mostly forgotten until nearly a century later, when Felix Mendelssohn received a manuscript of the score for his 15th birthday. The Mendelssohn family was already intimately familiar with Bach’s works: His great aunt, keyboardist Sarah Itzig Levy, was known for her performances of the composer’s keyboard works; had studied with Bach’s oldest surviving son, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach; and commissioned works from his younger brother, C. P. E. Bach. Felix and his sister, composer Fanny Mendelssohn, studied Bach’s music as part of their musical education. While Bach’s keyboard works were still studied and performed well into the 19th century, his extensive catalog of vocal works—including his two passions, the Mass in B Minor, and hundreds of secular and religious cantatas—were not well known. Mendelssohn spent nearly five years studying the manuscript and preparing it for eventual performance—something his teacher, composer Carl Zelter, had tried and failed to do on several occasions. On March 11, 1829, Mendelssohn conducted the first public performances of the St. Matthew Passion in nearly a century at the Singakademie in Berlin. Though Mendelssohn’s version was abridged, these performances are largely credited with reviving interest in the study, performance, and appreciation of the entirety of Bach’s oeuvre.
—Steven Jude Tietjen