The Eighth Sunday after Trinity found the Pilgrims
in Rendsburg, Schleswig-Holstein. The Christkirche dates from
the turn of the eighteenth century and is described by Sir
John Eliot Gardiner as an “exquisite, wood-vaulted, cruciform
church.”
The Gospel for the day warns against false
prophets and hypocrites and Bach’s cantata BWV 178
is suitably admonitory. Indeed the opening chorus is memorably
described by Gardiner as one of “immense power, sustained
energy and astonishing compositional prowess with which to
box the listeners’ ears.” Gardiner has proved himself the
master of descriptive phraseology in the notes accompanying
these CDs and I just love the thought of the Leipzig congregation
receiving a musical clip round the ear!
Actually, this cantata and the potent performance
it receives here set me thinking, not for the first time,
about the debate as to whether or not Bach intended these
cantatas to be sung one voice to a part. Though he may have
been driven to this expediency on occasion I’ve never been
very comfortable with this idea, though Joshua Rifkin’s wonderfully
intimate recording of BWV 106 came closest to convincing me
otherwise. I find it hard to imagine what the opening chorus
of BWV 178 might have sounded like with just one singer to
a part. I suppose it’s feasible to perform it in that way
but I can’t believe it would sound anywhere near as arresting
as the Monteverdi Choir makes it. The next movement offers
another case in point. In this performance the chorale lines
are sung by all the altos in the choir while Robin Tyson delivers
the passages of recitative as solos. Performed by a single
singer the contrasting effect would be lost completely. Similar
considerations apply to the fifth movement where all three
soloists punctuate the very dramatic chorale with recitatives.
The turbulent aspect of the cantata is also
emphasised in the bass aria, ‘Gleichwie die wilden Meereswellen’,
a stormy seascape. Gardiner reminds us that Bach was a landlubber
and wonders how he could have imagined such a musical tempest.
Brindley Sherratt is the effective soloist here, sounding
for all the world like Neptune. The tenor aria is a gritty
piece that Christoph Genz projects effectively, though his
is a light voice and perhaps not best suited to what is one
of Bach’s less ingratiating arias, well though he sings it.
The cantata is a taxing one and interestingly Gardiner relates
that afterwards his continuo players told him they’d found
it more demanding than an entire St. Matthew Passion.
The music for the opening chorus of BWV
136 sits rather oddly with the text, Gardiner opines and
he speculates that it may have been borrowed from another,
perhaps secular, piece. The performance here is a delight,
the music being given an infectious lightness of gait. Incidentally,
if this was indeed recycled music then Bach recycled it yet
again later on, adapting it as the ‘Cum Sancto Spiritu’ in
his A major Mass, BWV 234. In the aria, ‘Es kommt ein Tag’,
the mix of alto voice and oboe d’amore obbligato is a telling
one and Robin Tyson and his instrumental partner acquit themselves
very well indeed. The other aria is a duet for tenor and bass
and Genz and Sherratt match their voices very successfully.
BWV 45 is a two-part cantata, which
opens with an elaborate and very fine fugal chorus. The members
of the Monteverdi Choir dance their way through it with typically
well sprung rhythms and excellent articulation. The tenor
aria, ‘Weiss ich Gottes Rechte’ is an ambiguous piece. On
the surface much of it seems beguiling but the key (C sharp
minor) and some of the chromatic excursions on which Bach
takes the music suggest something much darker. Genz, with
his light, easy delivery, is an excellent exponent of this
music. The bass arioso, ‘Es werden viele zu mir sagen an jenem
Tage’ is a difficult one to bring off and Brindley Sherratt
excels in its demanding divisions. Not to be outdone, Robin
Tyson offers a fine fluent performance of the aria, ‘Wer Gott
bekennt aus wahrem Herzensgrund’.
Moving on two weeks later to Braunschweig,
the Pilgrims performed in an even older church, a cathedral
begun in 1173. If the opening chorus of BWV 46 sounds
familiar that’s because it was, effectively, an early draft
for the ‘Qui tollis’ movement in the B minor Mass. However,
in this version Bach breaks off (at 4:41) into a fugue, which
eventually extends to nine voices. The Monteverdi Choir sustains
superbly the long lines in the opening pages of this chorus
and when the fugue arrives they articulate it powerfully and
with clarity. The tenor recitativo, telling of the destruction
of Jerusalem, with its slightly spooky recorder accompaniment,
could have come straight from one of Bach’s Passions. Genz,
who we know to be a fine evangelist, is highly eloquent here.
In the “tsunami aria” that follows Gotthold Schwarz is in
stentorian voice and displays singular agility in what is
a demanding aria.
Perhaps the most ear-catching part of the whole
cantata is the alto aria, ‘Doch Jesus will auch bei der Strafe’
in which the listener receives reassurance as to the protecting
presence of Jesus. Here the eloquent singing of Daniel Taylor
is accompanied most atmospherically by a brace of recorders
and a pair of unison oboes da caccia.
Gardiner describes the opening chorus of BWV
101 as “a twin-barrelled doctrinal salvo”. It’s an imposing,
implacable chorale movement based on a hymn by Luther. The
Monteverdi Choir declaims it with strong conviction. The tenor
aria that follows features an elaborate obbligato. Gardiner
states that the solo instrument is a flute but in fact we
hear a violin, played with splendid agility. Was this a late
substitution, I wonder? – Alfred Dürr indicates that the obbligato
may be played by either instrument. In the recitativo that
follows we hear, for the first time in this set, a soprano
voice and Joanne Lunn is worth the wait, singing with conviction
and purity of tone. Gotthold Schwarz has his work cut out
again in some demanding divisions in the next aria. He negotiates
these with aplomb and his light, smooth legato passages also
give great pleasure. I can’t resist Gardiner’s description
of the accompanying trio of oboes – “three angry ducks transformed
into a latter-day saxophone trio”. For me the high point of
the cantata is the duet for soprano and alto, ‘Gedenk an Jesu
bittern Tod!’ Here Miss Lunn and Daniel Taylor are affectingly
eloquent in their long phrases. But the haunting accompaniment
of flute and oboe da caccia is equally striking and at the
points where Bach intertwines the two voices and the instruments
the effect is mesmerising.
Finally we hear BWV 102.Dürr rates the
opening chorus very highly, calling it “one of the great achievements
of the mature Bach.” Within the movement there are several
occasions when one or more of the vocal soloists carries the
musical argument for a few bars. I’m unsure if this is an
interpretative decision by Gardiner but the resulting contrast
is mightily effective in a superb, biting performance. The
cantata also includes a deeply felt alto aria in which the
expressive singing of Daniel Taylor is matched at every turn
by the plangent oboist. The musical line of the tenor aria
that comes a little later is somewhat disjointed and needs
a nimble, light tenor but also one with a touch of steel where
required – the voice of Helmut Krebs comes to mind. Happily,
in Christoph Genz Gardiner has just the right singer and the
flautist is just as successful.
This pair of CDs maintains all the high standards
of the series to date. The soloists give great pleasure and
the choral singing and orchestral playing is first rate. Yet
again one marvels at the skill and adaptability of these musicians
in turning in such fine and convincing performances of music
that was probably unfamiliar to most, if not all, of them
and which they can only have had a relatively brief time to
prepare, given the demanding schedule of the Pilgrimage. Of
course, Sir John Eliot Gardiner is, as ever, the presiding
genius, demonstrating yet again his deep love for and understanding
of Bach’s music and drawing the very best out of his performers.
He also puts us in his debt once again with lively and perceptive
notes. In his booklet essays I feel he’s doing for the Bach
cantatas what Graham Johnson did, at rather greater length,
for Schubert’s lieder.
This is another distinguished and stimulating
issue in this important series. I await the next volume with
keen anticipation.
John Quinn