Two genres characterize the high Baroque period in music, roughly the first part of the 1700s, fugue and opera. The first is a densely contrapuntal composition: multiple simultaneous melodies--voices--of equal value, centered on a theme, a subject. And in fugue, Johan Sebastian Bach was unequaled. Compared to anyone else, it is Godzilla verses Bambi (quip credit: Prof. Greenberg, from Bach and the High Baroque.) Anyway.
The dense, intellectual, much of it predetermined,
structure of fugue seems to me to be at odds with the rambling cornball bombast of opera--a clue, perhaps, to understanding the complex intellectual history of the Enlightenment: the fugue, a vision of Newton's universe as beautiful intricate clockwork; and opera, the democratizing emergence of popular non-aristocratic, non-religious entertainment. But anyway.
It is said that, unlike most of his peers, Bach composed no opera. But of course he did; his hundreds of sacred cantada are all small religious operas. And then there is the so-called Coffee Cantada, a little comic opera with three characters, written after Bach left Prince Leopold in Cothen to be Cantor of St. Thomas Church in Leipzeg, to be performed in Zimmermann's coffee house, the home of a little musical ensemble he led, just, it seems, for fun.
The three singers, in the Coffee Cantada, are a narrator (here the barista, whose first line is "shut up and listen," lol.) a father, Schlendrian, (translates as Stick-In-The-Mud, lol), and his willful teenaged daughter, Lieschen, whose addiction to coffee troubles the grumpy old man.
Anyway, I get a real kick out of this song, here in a great little production by the Netherlands Bach Society, (Lieschen's aria, 4:35 through 9:14) The sporano is great--she knocks me out at 7:55. The girl does love her some coffee.