This is a 'compact', contained, close and appropriately 
                  intimate account of Bach's Johannes Passion. 
                  It was written over the first winter during which Bach was responsible 
                  for church music at the saint Thomas and Nicholas churches in 
                  Leipzig. The performance was at the service of Vespers on Good 
                  Friday 1724. In part because the Saint John Passion 
                  contains more expansive, extrovert and discursive music than 
                  the Matthew Passion, and in part because its geographical 
                  settings are more explicit (the Kidron Valley, the palace of 
                  the high priest Kaiphas, at Golgotha, and at the burial site), 
                  it's seen as more overtly dramatic, more unrestrained 
                  and generally less reflective than the Matthew Passion. 
                  In that way the St John would seem potentially to confirm 
                  the fears of Bach's Leipzig employers that the Cantor 
                  might be tempted to write music of more operatic and pious intent 
                  and stamp.
                   
                  Director and violinist, Monica Huggett's, conception 
                  strikes an interesting balance. It's neither so outgoing 
                  yet intense as that of Eliot Gardiner (on Soli Deo Gloria, 712) 
                  nor as restrained as that of Sigiswald Kuijken and Gustav Leonhardt 
                  (on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, 667402). Huggett, her soloists, 
                  Cappella Romana and the Portland Baroque Orchestra are more 
                  down to earth; more transparent in, for instance, 'pushing' 
                  the recitatives our way in order to make their impact. They’re 
                  more 'busy' in exposing the unfolding story to 
                  us. There is less declamation, more narration. Although there 
                  are places where the singing has to be described as imperfect, 
                  on the whole it's convincing and pleasing.
                   
                  It's almost impossible for us to respond to either of 
                  Bach's extant Passions as his congregations must have 
                  reacted in the 1720s: the previous models were more dour, more 
                  formulaic, purely Biblical, more … 'routine', 
                  almost. Huggett's unfussy, almost at times undemonstrative 
                  approach might well come close to (such) aspects of Bach's 
                  first performances - aware as he was that eyebrows would be 
                  raised at the chromatic runs, say in Da führeten 
                  sie Jesum [CD.2 tr.2]. Thus the dramatic qualities - even 
                  of the dialogues and responses - have been downplayed in this 
                  account; not drained. It’s also more implicit because it's 
                  expected that you pay close attention to the words.
                   
                  The articulation and enunciation of the text are very clear 
                  indeed at all points by all performers. This is a period instrument 
                  performance too. Some attempt has been made to use authentic 
                  combinations of instruments … flutes are omitted, for example, 
                  which confers more of a genuinely Baroque and less Galant 
                  sound. Yet the inclusion of both organ and harpsichord and an 
                  appropriate array of strings keeps the work's richness.
                   
                  Huggett is more specific: the Saint John Passion has 
                  for her been more intimate, more immediate, on a smaller scale 
                  than the colossal Matthew Passion. Indeed such is the 
                  overall impression that this compact yet inquiring interpretation 
                  makes on the listener. It attends to detail, ferrets out the 
                  particularities of tone, mood and intention of each aria, chorus 
                  and recitative. It is full of expression, yet fails to linger 
                  when to do so would be asking more of the forces involved than 
                  they should bear. The obbligato working with Erwäge, wie 
                  sein blutgefärbte Rücken [CD.2 tr.6], for instance, is 
                  there emphatically to support, point up and colour the text; 
                  not as a decorative afterthought.
                   
                  At the same time such singing as this here by Jacques-Olivier 
                  Chartier is spontaneous, alive and with every effort to be 'real' 
                  and immediate, rather than oratorical. Again, couldn't 
                  this be close to how Bach imagined his work should be received 
                  at its first performance?
                   
                  Huggett supplies a short note in the serviceable booklet which 
                  also contains text in German and English. In it she is careful 
                  not to allude to the continuing debate or controversy about 
                  the forces (one to a part, or not) which Bach may or may not 
                  have used - and hence what a historically-aware performance 
                  in the twenty-first century should aim for. Yet by employing 
                  one to a part she allies herself firmly with those who believe 
                  that the grandeur and impact of Bach's music is just 
                  as evident in a 'chamber' environment and with 
                  chamber forces as when any more expanded size of instrumental 
                  and vocal performers is used. Indeed, the vigour, drive and 
                  careful diction, the emotional charge, sensitivity and sense 
                  of ensemble all allow Bach's highly emotional Passion 
                  to affect us as it should. The humanity of the religious occasion 
                  which it marks is never in doubt. Our ability as listeners to 
                  empathise and identify with the protagonists is neither compromised 
                  nor overdone. A good balance.
                   
                  The acoustic of St. Anne's Chapel at Marylhurst University 
                  in Oregon could never be described as resonant or overwhelming. 
                  Intimacy and immediacy again. Huggett's tempi never lag. 
                  Whilst this may not be a first choice for your Saint John 
                  Passion, it certainly carves out a niche for itself and 
                  is worth hearing.
                   
                  This is a compelling, persuasive yet smaller-scale period instrument 
                  account of Bach's less well-known Passion by performers 
                  who obviously adore the work and bring out most of its strong 
                  points.
                   
                  Mark Sealey