This second volume in the Naxos series of Buxtehude’s vocal music
was previously issued on Dacapo (Dacapo 8.224160). It is made
up of four sacred cantatas – and one ‘interloper’, a setting of
the Magnificat mistakenly identified as Buxtehude’s back
in 1931 by Bruno Grusnick, but pretty certainly not his.
The four cantatas
give us the chance to hear Buxtehude employing a variety of
strategies.
Das neugeborne
Kindelein sets the four verses of a Christmas hymn first
published in 1588 by Cyriacus Schneegass (1546-1597), German
hymn-writer, composer and music theorist. The words have a simple
radiance, each of the four stanzas made up of four lines rhymed
aabb. Buxtehude treats them interestingly; he adopts
different approaches for each of the four stanzas. In the first
he sets the opening three lines, the initial announcement of
the recurrent ‘new’ birth of Christ and its significance, relatively
plainly, allowing the words to dominate and hold the attention.
Then, as if to celebrate the significance of the words of proclamation,
the final line of Schneegass’s first stanza is richly elaborated
through repetition and contrapuntal echo. Between each stanza
we get an instrumental ritornello and after its first return,
the second stanza offers yet more vocal elaboration and responds
beautifully to the text’s assertion that the angels are singing
in the sky, a response heightened by a greater use of instrumental
accompaniment interwoven with the vocal phrases than was allowed
to happen in the first stanza. The third stanza speaks of the
battle against “Teufel, Welt und Höllenpfort” and the sense
of conflict is heightened by much greater use of instrumental
interjections which break up the vocal phrases and the lines
of the verse. In the fourth stanza, as the text grows to a full
realisation that the birth of “das Jesuslein” guarantees the
possibility of human salvation, the musical metre changes and
the instruments and voices work more obviously together, so
that verse, voice and instruments embody, in their new relationship,
the transformation into coherent meaning of which the hymn speaks.
Buxtehude, in short, has integrated text, singers and instrumental
ensemble with a completeness of achieved purpose that makes
Das neugeborne Kindelein a minor masterpiece.
In Der Herr ist
mit mir the text is taken from the Psalms (Psalm 118 verses
6-7). In the Authorized Version it reads thus: “The Lord is
on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me. The Lord
taketh my part with them that help me: therefore shall I see
my desire upon them that hate me”. To the German translation
of these verses is added a concluding ‘Hallelujah’. Buxtehude
sets the Psalm text in predominantly homophonic fashion, the
text remaining clearly and emphatically audible, its meaning
emphasised by some patterned rhythmic and harmonic touches.
With the ‘Hallelujah’ Buxtehude launches into a virtuoso ciacona
made up of nineteen variations over two-bar ostinato bass. The
contrast with what has gone before is startling and exciting.
The most dramatically
expressive work here is Fürwahr, er trug unsere Krankheit,
setting verses from Isaiah prophetic of the crucifixion. There
is some powerful instrumental writing and Buxtehude’s music
articulates a powerful response to the idea of the Passion;
the writing, both for the bass soloist and for the chorus, as
well as for the sections of the chorus, is consistently intense
and moving. The response to the imagery of Christ’s wounds and
“stripes” is especially poignant. Fürwahr, er trug unsere
Krankheit is a fine piece, full of sustained melodies and
aching harmonies, and it comes off particularly well in this
recording.
Alles, was ihr
tut is perhaps the most familiar of these four cantatas.
It is an exhortation to ensure that (in the words of the Epistle
to the Colossians) “whatsoever ye do in word or deed, [ye]
do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and
the father by him”, as well as a petition that God might assist
both individual and community. Buxtehude fruitfully juxtaposes
elements of the sacred concerto and the aria, as well as the
setting of a chorale text to an already existing melody; homophonic
passages and contrapuntal writing are employed by turns; the
interplay of instruments and voices is always effective and
interesting. In passing phrases – both textual and musical –
between soloist and chorus, Buxtehude seems to offer an artistic
statement as to the proper relationship between the individual
and the community in a Christian society. The whole work breathes
an untroubled faith and the continuo work from the Dufay Ensemble
is particularly striking here.
The external evidence
makes it unlikely that the Magnificat is Buxtehude’s;
although one copy of the work was found in the collection of
Buxtehude’s friend Gustav Düben, who certainly owned copies
of works by Buxtehude, it has to be said that he also owned
works by other composers too; other surviving copies of this
setting come from areas of Europe where Buxtehude is not known
to have had any connections. Nor, indeed, does it really sound
like Buxtehude; it lacks the subtlety and inventiveness of Buxtehude
at anything like his best. It is pleasant but undistinguished
and is perhaps best attributed to that old favourite ‘Anon’.
These are not perfect
performances. The closing ‘Hallelujah’ of Der Herr ist mit
mir hasn’t quite the brilliance and lightness of touch that
the music deserves; Johan Reuter’s bass, though tonally very apt
and attractive, isn’t quite as expressive as one might wish; just
now and then, by the highest standards, the voices of one or two
of the choir’s soloists sound overtaxed. On the other hand, the
Choir as a whole sings beautifully, their work tonally lovely,
their diction exemplary. The performances are certainly plenty
good enough to give the hearer a pretty good idea of just how
fine this music is.
Glyn Pursglove
see also Review
by Brian Wilson
John Reuter
(bass) 
