Fuel Up on Faith with Bach's St Mattews Passion
Erbarme dich, mein Gott

St Matthew Passion (Matthäus-Passion), BWV 244

Bach presenting a listen guide for his St Matthew's Passion's Erbarme dich, mein Gott
I'm Johann Sebastian Bach, and I'm about to explain "Erbarme dich, mein Gott", the alto aria that comes right after Peter's denial in my St Matthew's Passion. You'll hear a solo violin and a singer share one sad, swaying thought in B minor, which shows how a single quiet song can say what a whole crowd could not. On this site my fellow composers and I teach you to recognize our pieces as soon as they play, so when you're ready,  try the Trainer yourself .
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Two Violins, One Voice, Zero Rush

Before you press play, I'd suggest you pick just two things to follow: the singer, who is an alto, and the solo violin that keeps her company. Around them, the two violins, the viola and the continuo make a soft cushion of sound, and the continuo is the low foundation that holds the whole thing up. Don't worry about understanding anything, because this piece works best when you let the swaying 12/8 rhythm carry you along like a slow boat on a dark lake. If you only have the patience for one trick, listen to how the violin and the voice seem to be having the same sad thought in two different ways.

A Title That Gives Itself Away

I named this aria after its opening words, which is a habit of mine, so "Erbarme dich, mein Gott" is simply how the singer begins. Those words are a plea for mercy, and they arrive at one of the most painful moments in the story, right after Peter denies knowing Jesus. It's movement 39 out of the 68 in the Passion, so you've already traveled quite a way by the time you get here. Once you know where it sits in the story, the title stops being a puzzle and becomes the whole point, because everything you hear is one person asking to be forgiven.

An Aria in B Minor

Choosing the form for this piece was a real puzzle, and in the end I wrote an aria, which is a song for one voice with instruments around it. I built it in B minor, and I kept the 12/8 swing going from beginning to end, so the piece never loses its gentle, rocking pulse. Inside that steady frame you can hear four stretches, and I'll call them sections, because each one has its own job in the story. I'll walk you through them one by one, in the order you'll meet them, so you'll always know where you are.

Section 1: The Violin Clears Its Throat

Before anyone sings a word, the solo violin steps forward alone and sets the mood. Its melody leans and sighs in B minor, and the rocking 12/8 underneath tells you straight away that nothing here will be hurried. Listen to how the other strings and the continuo stay quiet and close, like people lowering their voices in a church. By the end of this opening you already know how the piece feels, even though nobody has said a word yet.

Section 2: The Alto Finally Speaks

Now the alto comes in, and the violin doesn't step aside, because the two of them keep weaving around each other. This is where the plea for mercy is spoken out loud, and you can hear it in the way her line sinks and then reaches up again. The mood stays tender rather than loud, and that's the clever part, because the sadness feels personal instead of theatrical. If you only catch one moment of the whole aria, I'd choose the first time her voice and the violin line up together.

Section 3: A Little Wander in the Dark

In the middle stretch the music moves away from the opening and feels less settled, as if the person praying has started to look for a way out of the guilt. The voice and the violin keep talking to each other, but their exchange grows a little more restless and searching. I never let the 12/8 sway stop, so even when the feeling changes, the pulse underneath stays calm and keeps you steady. This is the part where I'd ask you to listen for small shifts in color, because the story is told in those changes more than in anything loud.

Section 4: Home, but Not Quite the Same

In the last stretch the opening mood comes back around, and the music feels like returning to a place you've already visited. It isn't exactly the same, though, because after everything you've heard, the same sighing melody now sounds heavier and more heartfelt. The violin and the alto settle back into the swaying rhythm, and the piece ends quietly instead of making a big announcement. That quiet ending was on purpose, because I wanted the plea to fade away softly instead of being closed off with a flourish.

Your Turn: Press Play

So here's my invitation: find a quiet spot, press play, and let "Erbarme dich, mein Gott" wash over you. While it plays, keep in mind what we talked about, the singer, the solo violin, the swaying pulse and the four stretches of the story. You don't have to catch everything, and it's perfectly fine to just follow the melody wherever it goes. I hope you find listening to it as moving as I found writing it.
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I hope you enjoyed learning about the listen guide to Erbarme dich, mein Gott from St Matthew's Passion. If this aria stayed with you, I'd be glad, because that quiet violin and that single voice have a way of lingering long after the last note. Still, this is only one small corner of the St Matthew's Passion, and there's much more to discover. The opening chorus, the closing chorus and the many arias in between each tell the story from a different angle. I wrote the work for two choirs and two orchestras, so there's always something new to hear on a second or third listen. Almost a hundred years after the work was last played, Felix Mendelssohn brought it back to life in Berlin in 1829, and people have been coming back to it ever since. So take your time, and let yourself wander through the rest of the Passion whenever you feel like it. Please click on the links provided to keep exploring the St Matthew's Passion, and I hope you find something there that moves you as much as this aria did.