The composition of Johann Sebastian Bach’s “St. Matthew Passion” is an emotional saga, ranging from happiness and reverence to sadness and guilt. The latter grouping of emotions is perfectly exemplified and explored in No. 47 Aria, which takes place following Jesus being sentenced to death. It centres around Peter the Apostle, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, as he expresses his feelings of grief, contrition, and desperation, which is accompanied by a sorrowful violin. The religious and emotional themes of No. 47 Aria are successfully supported, augmented, and fundamentally portrayed by the music of the section, which is underpinned by the slow undulation of ascending and descending melodies, mostly in stepwise motion.
In order for No. 47 Aria to be properly contextualised within the narrative, No. 45 Recitative and No. 46 Recitative need to be addressed first. No. 45 brings Peter into the forefront of the piece, with him sitting in a palace alone when he is approached by a damsel and a maid. Both women comment on his association with Jesus, to which Peter twice denies that there is any such link. When Peter is further impelled to admit to being Jesus’ disciple in No. 46, he begins to “curse and swear” and for the third time claims he did not know Jesus, with the music accelerating in its pace and ascending in its melody, thus growing further in its intensity to appropriately match Peter’s impatience and frustration. No. 46 ends with Peter’s realisation that Jesus’ prophecy—that Peter would disown his teacher and prophet thrice before dawn—had been fulfilled, sending the apostle into a spiral of sadness, regret, and weeping.
This spiral of emotions, contemplation, and invocations is the principal subject of No. 47 Aria, which specifically deals with Peter's feelings of guilt sparked by his denial of Jesus and his subsequent beseechment of God for mercy in light of his transgression. He pleads for God to see his tears, and with this plea, Peter presents an outward reflection of his genuine feelings of remorse, inviting God to inspect and appraise their truthfulness by looking into the depths of his heart. By disowning Jesus as his prophet thrice, Peter created a rift between God—righteousness and Jesus in turn—and himself. By asking God to see and acknowledge his desperation, repentance, and honest despair at his sins, he is attempting to reestablish some bond or relationship with God that Peter considers having at best been frayed, and at worst severed, through a path of Christian forgiveness.
Measure 5 is dominated by slow, wave-like ascending and descending melodies in stepwise motion. Both the visual and auditory components of these melodies ought to be considered. Concerning the visual, the important element is that, on the sheet, the stepwise motion results in notes that form the pattern of gently-sloping stairs or waves, ascending and descending. From a religious perspective, this might be taken to represent the endless path (be it by land or sea) to God—ongoing, difficult, and never truly done. With respect to the auditory, the steadiness and somberness of the melody is a clear mimicry of the physiological expression of crying; a lamentation consisting of sobs and shallow breaths, where every ascending note is an ingress of air and every descending note is an egress, repeated systematically.
When the superstructure of the music is broken, one can infer it to mean that Bach intended some measure of emphasis and attention to be elicited by such breaks. An example of significance is found in measure 10, amongst the notes corresponding to the lyric “My God”. Unlike the majority of No. 47, which is set in stepwise motion, the note ascent from “My” to “God” constitutes a skip. The skip, when tethered to the lyrical meaning with which it is matched in the Aria, suggests a sense of desperation—no longer content with the winding road to God, Peter’s plea gains further gravity as he spiritually, emotionally, and perhaps physically reaches to the heavens with greater will and force.
The overall premise of No. 47 aligns with the beginning of the prayer in Psalm 51, which in Latin is “Miserere mei, Deus”. Translated to English, the phrase reads like a prayer; “Have mercy, my God.”, which is the opening libretto to No.47. Being that the sentiment of the pleads for God’s mercy and forgiveness of one’s sins are central themes in Christianity, No. 47 reflects the heavily religious and sin-oriented nature of the Aria, as underscored by its direct Biblical link.
Although the words sung in No. 47 contain a great deal of feeling, in order to make the emotion immersive, the musical technique, both overtly and subtly, needs to assist in evoking feelings that align with the libretto. The section is in the key of b minor, identified in measure 2 in the triad of B, D, and F. The choice of this key creates a sense of sorrow, and longing, perhaps to match Peter’s pleas for mercy.
Another significant characteristic of No. 47 is the time signature of 12/8, with the eighth notes being organised into sets of three, marking the continuo, essentially creating a baseline for other music to play on top of, in order to produce harmony. The continuo, located in the bass clef, creates some consistency and fullness in the piece. Although the nature of what this is representative of is not completely clear, two hypotheses on the matter strike me as resonant.
The first hypothesis is that the continuo exists to demonstrate the omnipresence of God. Perhaps the stability of the continuo is used to depict that, regardless of the severity of one’s sins, God listens to your pleas—he is ever-present and aware, and therefore at whatever time one might ask for forgiveness, if it is just, God would grant it. Moreover, the fullness which results from the harmony adds presence and gravity to the music; additions that can be taken to represent the reassuring presence of God. The second hypothesis of the purpose behind the continuo is that it is a symbol of how one’s loyalty towards God and by extension, Jesus, should not falter as Peter’s loyalty did. Indeed, in the stead of unwavering faith and loyalty, a different perennial perspective is imbued into Peter—sorrow. Through this exchange of faith for sorrow, a lesson can also be taught; do not cast yourself in opposition to the divine, for there is nothing good to be gained from an unrighteous path.
In tying together the several threads of analysis of Johann Sebastian Bach’s “St. Matthew Passion”, the following can be asserted: The libretto of the piece is critical to much of its denotative meaning. The religious overtones, analogies, and themes are the dominant content of the passion. The libretto, however, would fall flat without the exquisite music to which they are set. Indeed, they would lack much of their meaning without the general background of ascending and descending melodies, commonly in stepwise motion, that accompany them. Through the music, we get a more visceral understanding of Peter’s emotions, desires, and thoughts—we see his sorrow, we feel his shame, and we are deeply immersed in the lachrymose condition of the Apostle. The breaks from this pattern and other musical and lyrical anomalies serve to give both emphasis and clues to further meaning that may have been intended; showing the listener the power and presence of God, Peter’s desire for redemption, and the Biblical origin of Bach’s masterwork. All in all, the music and the words work synchronously to form a beautiful, comprehensive, and heart-touching rendition of the story of Peter the Apostle.
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