International Record Review

SDG 153 - Bach Cantatas vol. 20 (4 Jun 2009)

J. S. Bach

Cantatas, Volume 20

Soli Deo Gloria SDG153

Almost a decade on from their great Bach Cantata Pilgrimage in which John Eliot Gardiner and his Monteverdi Choir performed all of Bach’s sacred cantatas on the Sundays and holy days for which they were originally conceived, Volume 20 in the series of live recordings they made on that journey has been released. It focuses on those written for the second and third Sundays before Lent, known in the ecclesiastical calendar as Septuagesima and Sexagesima.

The three Septuagesima cantatas, BWV84, 92 and 144, were performed and recorded in the fifteenth-century Grote Kerk in Naarden on February 20^th, 2000 and, as Gardiner writers in his eternally fascinating notes, are concerned with the moral ‘accept and be satisfied with your lot, however unfair it may seem at the time’. That may be the case, but what permeates this account of BWV144 is a sense of urgency, almost of impetuousness, as if the proximity of Lent, with its 40 days of penitence and personal sacrifice, is being anxiously anticipated. It gets under way without any preamble, and throughout Gardiner keeps the music pushing along with a sense of purpose, which, in less sensitive hands, might easily sound routine – a desire to get through the piece and on to the next with the minimum of fuss – but along the way there are some aptly pleading tones from the delicious oboe matched by a suitably dark-toned Wilke te Brummelstroete. (Adding to the intimate charm of the booklet notes, she writes how this particular venue had youthful associations for her: its ‘serene atmosphere touched me deeply and a dream was born to sing there one day as a soloist’.)

Ich bin vergnügt mit meinem Glücke, BWV84 presents a far more intimate and reflective face, almost the entire vocal weight resting on the soprano. This affords a glorious opportunity for Miah Persson to exhibit her Bachian credentials, and she does so with authority and convincing emotional insight. Support from the English Baroque Soloists is impeccable, tracing her every nuance with subtlety and refinement. By way of a contrast, the third Septuagesima cantata, Ich hab in Gottes Herz und Sinn, BWV92 focuses more on the lower voices, with both tenor James Oxley and bass Jonathan Brown cast into the spotlight with an aria apiece. It begins, however, with a buoyant chorale, Gardiner nicely capturing the sense of an unruffled surface above a boiling cauldron of turbulence. This is an idea he highlights in his comments on the bass recitative in which Brown, with the masterly support of an enthusiastic cello, evokes the story of Jonah and the whale, Bach, as Gardiner puts it, helping us to identify this allusion with ‘submarine rumblings in the continuo’.

For the Sexagesima cantatas, the team moved to England and to Southwell Minster. Gleichwie der Regen und Schnee vom Himmel fällt, BWV18 opens with a wonderful piece of instrumental playing with the English Baroque Soloists, the wind offering its own comfortable take on what Gardiner identifies as the Sunday theme, ‘the overwhelming power of the Word’. It falls to Stephan Loges to give us the first taste of the real word, as his recitative evokes the magisterial authority of the Prophet Isaiah, while James Gilchrist injects a note of calm at the start of ‘Mein Gott, hier wird mein Herze sein’ but is interrupted by incisive sopranos effectively stabbing him in the musical back. The only aria here is for soprano and is brightly sung by Gillian Keith to the lovely accompaniment of violas and recorders in octaves (the scoring taken from Bach’s later version in which the absence of violins was compensated by the addtition of a pair of recorders).

Leichtgesinnte Flattergeister, BWV181 appears to have an entirely secular title (‘Frivolous flibbertigibbets’ is the translation given in the booklet) but concerns the Biblical parable of the seed scattered randomly on the ground. Loges effectively laughs his way through the ebullient opening aria against much animated chattering from the orchestral violins, while Robin Tyson injects a distinctly pleading character to his recitative. Although the original has been lost, for this performance Robert Levin composed a finely virtuoso violin obbligato to go with Gilchrist’s sprightly aria ‘Der Schädlichen Dornen unendliche Zahl’, which sounds completely convincing to my ears.

‘A stunning, combative work’ is how Gardiner describes Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinem Wort, BWV126, and from the trumpet-laden opening Sinfonia, we are clearly in more aggressive territory, the Monteverdi Choir responding with equally fervent and muscular singing as it invokes divine help to destroy its enemies (identified as ‘the Pope and the Turks’). A stirring call to arms from Gilchrist, followed by votes of confidence in the power of God’s people from him, Tyson and Loges, reaches its ultimate goal with a luminous final choral ‘Amen’.

In addition to exquisite performances, outstanding recordings and valuable written information, the packaging is, to put it mildly, generous.

Marc Rochester