This is another single-CD reissue from the Koopman magnum opus 
                complete Bach Cantatas.  Like the single-disc reissue of Solo 
                Cantatas for Alto and Tenor which I reviewed on CC72282 – see 
                review 
                – it has a very drab cover, by contrast with the highly attractive 
                covers of the complete series.  I suppose plain black with out-of-focus 
                tea lights is not inappropriate for a CD of funeral cantatas, 
                but I could think of something much better. 
              
A much more serious 
                drawback which this new release shares with its predecessor is 
                the lack of texts, with not even an indication of where they may 
                be found.  There are several websites which offer texts and translations 
                but if you are a serious collector of Bach cantatas you may wish 
                to invest in Neary M and R Stokes, J.S. Bach: The Complete 
                Cantatas (Lanham, Maryland: Scarecrow Press, 2005), containing 
                texts, translations and commentaries. 
              
BWV198, also known 
                as the Trauer-Ode or mourning ode, was composed for the 
                funeral of the Electress Christiane Eberhardine on 17/10/1727.  
                Despite my assertion elsewhere that none of JSB’s cantatas can 
                be considered a dud – an assertion which I stand by – this work 
                is not one of my favourites; it stands uncomfortably between the 
                religious and secular cantatas; strictly, it belongs in the latter 
                category.  It’s a long work when performed as a whole, as here 
                – originally, half was sung before the funeral oration and half 
                after.  The music director of the university complained that he 
                had not been given what was essentially an academic commission, 
                but Bach shows awareness that he is composing for an academic 
                occasion in the manner of an old-fashioned tombeau and, 
                though much of the Ode is very beautiful, for once the old accusation 
                that he is an intellectual composer may be justified. 
              
The opening chorus 
                is very effective, in the manner of the opening choruses of Bach’s 
                Passions; appropriately, much of the music from the Ode was re-used 
                for the lost St Mark Passion.  Here and elsewhere the choir sing 
                well – with no concession to the one-voice-to-a-part theory, though 
                they never sound over-large.  Their account of the final chorus 
                makes an effective conclusion to the cantata. 
              
Three of the soloists 
                have a recitative and aria each, but poor old Klaus Mertens, the 
                bass, has only a recitative which precedes the final chorus.  
                None of the soloists offers cause for complaint, though Lisa Larson’s 
                pure voice sometimes develops a slightly shrill edge – much less 
                noticeable on second hearing – and Elisabeth von Magnus is very 
                slightly plummy. 
              
Paul Agnew, the tenor, 
                is the best of the group, describing the sapphire house of eternity 
                in der Ewigkeit saphirnes Haus (track 8) most mellifluously.  
                His voice seems to arise by magic from the orchestral lead-in 
                to this aria.  Mertens makes the most of his small part, though 
                he is a bit gruff on the deepest notes. 
              
The pairing here is 
                not the most logical, for reasons which I explain below.  198 
                might have been better coupled with 106 (the Actus Tragicus) 
                and 118, as on John Eliot Gardiner’s DG Archiv recording. 
              
BWV131, a setting 
                of the German text of Psalm 130, better known as de Profundis 
                or Out of the deep, dates from 1707.  Strictly speaking, 
                it isn’t a funeral cantata – the German title Trauer-kantaten 
                is more accurate than the English translation in this respect: 
                the penitential occasion for which it was composed is not known 
                but it is usually thought to have been connected with a disastrous 
                fire at Mühlhausen in that year.  My benchmark for this work is 
                the recording on Chandos CHAN0715 by Paul Daniels and Peter Harvey 
                with the augmented Purcell Quartet, where it is coupled with three 
                other cantatas from the Mühlhausen period, 1707-8: BWV4 (Christ 
                lag in Todesbanden), 106 (Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste 
                Zeit) and 196 (Der Herr denket an uns), a set of performances 
                so ideal in my opinion – the other cantatas involve Emma Kirkby 
                and Michael Chance – as almost to rule the opposition out of court. 
              
The Chandos and Challenge 
                versions adopt very similar tempi for the opening sinfonia and 
                chorus, the bass arioso, the second chorus and the closing chorus, 
                but the Chandos tempo for the tenor aria Meine Seele wartet 
                auf den Herrn is considerably slower than that adopted by 
                Koopman – 7:22 against 6:04.  The basic question is 
                whether to emphasise the waiting aspect of the words (My soul 
                waits for the Lord from one morning watch to the next) or the 
                hope to be washed clean of sin like David and Manasseh. 
              
My money is on the 
                waiting tempo adopted by the Chandos performers, a tempo achieved 
                without making the work sound too mournful, but that doesn’t totally 
                rule Koopman out of court: his brisker tempo also makes sense 
                without sounding brusque.  Herreweghe on Virgin (see below) is 
                on Koopman’s side here, with an even shorter time of 5:59.  Joshua 
                Rifkin’s 4:41 on a Double Decca set containing BWV106, 131, 99, 
                56, 82 and 158 is surely too fast, though the set is otherwise 
                recommendable to those who like his one-to-a-part approach (4580872). 
              
Both of Koopman’s 
                soloists are good – Mertens here losing any of the slight gruffness 
                which I remarked in his brief contribution to BWV198.  Guy de 
                Mey as not quite as effective in the tenor role here as Agnew 
                was in that work – his voice is just a little light for my taste, 
                but I don’t want to make that a serious complaint: in fact, it’s 
                not inappropriate for the soul waiting for the Lord and his voice 
                blends well with the chorus.  The final chorus, in which Israel 
                is exhorted to hope in the Lord, one of those Bach choruses that 
                seem to unwind inexorably, is well delivered, to round off an 
                effective account – which, nevertheless, doesn’t efface memories 
                of the Chandos version. 
              
The recording is good 
                throughout and the notes helpful and informative – apart from 
                the absence of texts.  If you want the coupling of BWV 131 and 
                198, you won’t go far wrong with this new reissue, but it wouldn’t 
                be my first choice. 
              
Another very fine 
                version of BWV131 may be found on an absurdly inexpensive Virgin 
                Veritas twofer, conducted by Philippe Herreweghe with a distinguished 
                group of soloists and the Collegium Vocale (5620252, with BWV39, 
                73, 93, 105 and 107).  You’ll find a detailed analysis of BWV131 
                in the review 
                in which I recommended this recording last year.  No texts again 
                with this Virgin set, but at the price that’s much more excusable 
                than with the Challenge Classics reissue.  Unfortunately, as was 
                the case with the Abbado version of Mahler’s Third Symphony when 
                I tried to find it for comparison recently, I can’t lay hands 
                on the Herreweghe for comparison, so you and I will have to take 
                my own word for it that this inexpensive version is very well 
                worth considering.  I really must get some organisation back into 
                my ‘system’.
                  
                  Brian 
                  Wilson