In six days’ time, I will be playing the monthly Bach and Prayer service at the Lutheran Church of Honolulu, the fourth Wednesday of the month at 7:00 pm. All the music I have chosen comes from Bach’s collection of extended chorale preludes, The Great Eighteen or Leipzig Chorales.

You might remember that in 2013 I had recently “retired” from my position as organist after 35 years and no longer had the weekly deadline of playing organ voluntaries and choral anthems. I had the absolute luxury of practicing for this concert without being distracted by other deadlines, although I was still playing for daily chapel services at Iolani School.

I went back and re-read my post, “Back to practicing Bach,” to remind myself in what state of mind I was those days.

“I need a project!” I told my husband, Carl, a couple of weeks ago. We were reminiscing about an all-Bach concert he and I played in 1979 in which between the two of us, we performed Bach’s Clavierübung III, the so-called “German Organ Mass,” a collection of 21 chorale preludes, bookended by the Prelude and Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552, nicknamed the St. Anne. 

And to no one’s surprise, I’m back to practicing Bach. I’ve decided to work on the Great Eighteen chorales, BWV 651-668. They’ve been called the “summit of Bach’s sacred music for solo organ,” by Russell Stinson, who wrote an entire book on these settings of chorale preludes called J. S. Bach’s Great Eighteen Organ Chorales, published by Oxford University Press. Stinson writes, “With the possible exception of the Well-Tempered Clavier, the Great Eighteen chorales are the most diverse collection of pieces Bach ever wrote.”

So when Scott Fikse called to ask whether I would consider playing the February Bach and Prayer service, I thought back to 2013 when I was absolutely consumed by the Great Eighteen Chorales. For eight months, I was really able to concentrate on these organ gems.

Now it’s nine years later in 2022 and I’ve decided to revive three of the pieces for next week’s Bach and Prayer service. However, I am not playing them as I did in 2013, but using different registration (choice of stops) and slightly different interpretation. Here’s what I wrote about the three pieces in 2013:

Schmúcke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654. Adorn yourself, o dear Soul; leave the dark den of sin, come to the bright light; begin to shine wonderfully. For the Lord, full of salvation and mercy, wishes to have you as his guest. He who can administer the heavens wishes to dwell in you.

In this setting, Bach is creating a pun on the word “schmücke” by ornamenting the chorale melody. In the text of verse 1, Christ invites the adorned soul to be his guest for the heavenly meal, not only in communion, but also in heaven itself (Ann Leahy). Supposedly Robert Schumann said that if hope and believe were taken from him, then it would be renewed with this piece. It was also allegedly Felix Mendelssohn’s favorite piece.

Here’s a performance that I’m currently enjoying by Ralph Gustafsson at the Maria Magdalena Church in Stockholm, Sweden:

Von Gott will ich nicht lassen, BWV 658. When the favor and good deeds of men all turn bad, God can soon be found; his power and mercy maintained, and helps from all distress, rescues from sin and theme, from chains and bonds and even from death.

This chorale is unusual because of its key of F-minor, a key rarely used by Bach and perhaps denoting distress. The melody is found in the pedal, underneath manual parts derived from the chorale. Most remarkable is the long coda with its excruciating dissonances.

Komm, heiliger Geist, BWV 651. Come, Holy Spirit, Lord God, fill with the goodness of your mercy, the hearts, minds and spirits of your faithful. Ignite your ardent love in them. O Lord, through the brilliance of your light; into the faith you have gathered the peoples of all the world’s tongues. Let this be sung to your praise, Halleluja, halleluja.

The parishioners of the Lutheran Church of Honolulu will immediately recognize this brilliant and exuberant piece because for thirty-five years I placed an abbreviated version of this during the Easter Proclamation at the Easter Vigil. The translation of this Pentecost hymn was by Martin Luther, after the Latin antiphon Veni Sancte Spiritus. Bach put the initials “J. J.” (for “Jesus, Juva,” meaning “Jesus help”) on the top of the first page, as he did with many cantata scores. The broken chords in the opening motive symbolize the tongues of fire and the “mighty rushing winds” of Pentecost.

I haven’t played the piece in this full version for nine years!

Tune into the livestream next Wednesday!