This
is the eighteenth set in this series that I’ve reviewed and
I’m delighted – but not surprised – to find that the standards
of performance remain as high as ever. It scarcely needs
saying that the same is true of the standard of the music
itself.
Though
this is Volume 17 in the cycle we are taken right back to
the start of the Pilgrimage. After splendid performances
of the
Christmas Oratorio in the Herderkirche, Weimar
immediately before and after Christmas 1999, which have been
available on DVD for some time (see
review),
the Pilgrimage really began in earnest with these concerts
in Berlin as the new year, and the new millennium, began.
There
are six surviving Bach cantatas for New Year’s Day, including
Fallt
mit Danken, fallt mit Loben, the fourth cantata
of the
Christmas Oratorio. Another one, the jubilant
Singet
dem Herrn ein neues Lied! BWV190, was given in the very
last concert of the Pilgrimage and was included in Volume
16 (see
review).
On this CD Gardiner gives us the other four New Year cantatas.
BWV
143 probably dates from 1708 and as such is a Mühlhausen cantata, though
there are some doubts as to whether or not the music is
actually by Bach. Alfred Dürr’s judgement is that the work
is “perhaps a little colourless in invention”. It’s interesting
to note that, unlike the other three New Year’s Day cantatas
included here, the text bears no real relation to the Epistle
or Gospel readings appointed for the day in the Lutheran
liturgy. The orchestra includes timpani and three horns.
The two key soloists are the tenor and the bass and it’s
interesting to see that the singers here, James Gilchrist
and Peter Harvey, were also involved in the very last concerts
of the Pilgrimage, twelve months later. As we’re discovering
with the progressive releases of the CDs, both singers
were to be cornerstones of the whole venture and on their
respective showings in this concert it’s not hard to see
why.
The
tenor has two arias in BWV143. Gilchrist does well in the
first of them, ‘Tausendfaches Unglück, Schrecken’, but the
second aria, ‘Jesu, Retter deiner Herde’, is even better
suited to his voice and he spins its long vocal lines seamlessly.
The short bass aria, in which the orchestra’s three horns
join, is dispatched imperiously by Harvey. The cantata concludes
with a vigorous chorus, which is excitingly done by the Monteverdi
Choir, though it doesn’t seem to me to represent Bach at
his extrovert best.
There’s
nothing “colourless” about
BWV41, which is a superb
cantata. The orchestral scoring is even more resplendent
than that for BWV143. In place of the three horns Bach employs
three trumpets and he adds a trio of oboes to the mix. It
begins with a huge choral fantasia, aptly described by Gardiner
as having “epic sweep”. The chorale melody is in the soprano
line, while below and around it Bach weaves a virtuoso display
of vocal counterpoint. The Monteverdi Choir is quite superb
in this movement, with the festive trumpets and drums adding
great brilliance. Around the midway point Bach unexpectedly
interpolates a short section of slower, more reflective music,
which is a masterstroke. This is swiftly left behind in an
exciting display of fugal pyrotechnics before Bach returns
to his opening material to conclude this astonishing, thrilling
movement.
There’s
no anti-climax, however, for the stream of invention continues
with a delectable pastoral soprano aria, charmingly sung
by Ruth Holten and decorated by the oboes. Dürr gives the
translation of the first two lines of this aria as
Let
us, O highest God, so complete the year
That
the end may be like the beginning
Bach’s
wonderful music fits this lovely idea like a glove. The tenor
aria ’Woferne du den edlen Frieden’, winningly sung by Gilchrist,
features a fine obbligato for
violoncello piccolo.
. The instrumental part is splendidly done but, even so,
it’s Gilchrist’s clear, expressive singing that particularly
catches the ear. The bass recitative that follows is interesting
on account of the brief, vehement interjection by the choir
of the phrase ‘Den Satan unter unsre Füsse treten’ (“Let
Satan be trodden under our feet”), which Gardiner perceptively
suggests was Bach’s way of “voicing the whole congregation’s
New Year resolution.” The exultant finale chorale is decorated
by fanfares from the trumpets and drums. This fine cantata
receives a stirring performance.
BWV
16 was first heard one year later, in 1726. As Gardiner says, it is “concise
and pithy” and it’s the most modestly scored of the cantatas
we’ve heard thus far. Despite its relative brevity there
are some notable movements. One such is the aria ‘Lasst
uns Jauchzen, lasst uns freuen’, a forthright piece in
which the excellent Peter Harvey and the choir combine
to good effect. The tenor aria ‘Geliebter Jesu, du allein’ features
an oboe da caccia obbligato and one relishes the contrasting
timbres of voice and instrument. The text is a heartfelt
expression of trusting faith, beautifully echoed in Bach’s
music, and Gilchrist puts the aria across marvellously.
To
conclude we are offered
BWV171. This seems to begin
in
media res, as Bach plunges into an energetic fugal chorus
without so much as a note of instrumental introduction.
Two
violins weave a dancing obbligato round the tenor aria ‘Herr,
so weit die Wolken gehen’. This piece provides a stern test
for James Gilchrist’s breath control but he passes the examination
with ease. The soprano aria ‘Jesus soll mein erstes Wort’ is
a parody of a movement from Bach’s secular cantata BWV205.
Gardiner isn’t quite as convinced as Alfred Dürr that the
transfer works, feeling that the revised word underlay doesn’t
quite fit the music. What
does work, without doubt,
is Ruth Holton’s light airy singing. In the closing chorale
Bach reprises the fanfares with which he burnished the corresponding
movement in BWV41. Gardiner suggests in his notes that this
was a reminder to the Leipzig congregation of the music Bach
had previously given them. I have to say I do wonder how
many of the good burghers of Leipzig would have had such
good memories.
In
the year 2000 the Sunday after New Year fell on the very
next day so there was no rest for the Pilgrims. If their
programme for that day looks short this is because only two
cantatas for that Sunday have survived so that the audience
were also treated to two cantatas from
Christmas Oratorio. Gardiner
points out the almost seismic shift of mood as compared with
New Year’s Day but this is perhaps not surprising since the
Gospel for the day relates the Massacre of the Innocents
and the Flight into Egypt.
BWV
153 is in many respects a turbulent cantata. The opening chorus is vehement – in
Gardiner’s words it seems as if it “should be delivered
as a collective shout or clamorous plea, upbraiding God”.
Certainly the Monteverdi Choir attacks the music vigorously.
Later comes a searing tenor recitativo, after which the
second chorale comes as something of a respite. But the
respite is short lived for the tenor aria that follows, ‘Stürmt
nur, stürmt, ihr Trübsalsweter’ (“Rage then, rage, affliction’s
storms”) is a fiery piece that would not have been out
of place in one of Bach’s Passions. In the subsequent bass
recitative, splendidly articulated by Harvey, Bach and
his librettist start to change the mood to one of solace
and confidence in Christ, but not before the grim reality
of Herod has been confronted. The more tranquil mood continues
in the dance-like alto aria ‘Soll ich meinen Lebenslauf’.
This is warmly sung by Sally Bruce-Payne, a singer who
I don’t think we’ve encountered in previous volumes. The
cantata ends with a three-verse chorale, which is delivered
in a delightfully sprightly fashion.
BWV
58 is a most economic cantata, requiring only soprano and bass soloists
and modest instrumental forces. This was probably a deliberate
and pragmatic decision by Bach in order to give a rest
to his choristers after the vocal rigours of Christmastide
and before the impending celebration of Epiphany. The resulting
cantata is one of those in which the bass is cast as
vox
Christi while the other soloist, on this occasion the
soprano, represents the Soul. The cantata has the same
title as BWV3, a cantata for the Second Sunday after Epiphany,
encountered already in Volume 19 (see
review).
This is because both include some words from the same sixteenth-century
Lutheran hymn by Martin Moller. It seems that BWV58, though
it probably originated in 1727, only survives in a revision
dating from 1733 or 1734. One of the best sections of the
cantata, the aria ‘Ich bin vergnügt in meinem Leiden’ was
composed as part of that revision. Ruth Holton sounds touchingly
vulnerable in this aria and the plangent violin obbligato
complements her singing beautifully. Both she and Peter
Harvey sing excellently throughout this cantata.
As
will be evident from my comments, the performance standards
in this latest volume are fully up to what we’ve come to
expect as the standards of the house. So too are the notes
by Sir John Eliot Gardiner. It’s highly stimulating to read
his Pilgrimage journal on an instalment basis but I hope
that sooner or later the entire journal will be published
in book form to be enjoyed from start to finish.
I
made a particular point of listening to the first of these
two discs on New Year’s Day, simply for pleasure. It’s hard
to imagine a better way of greeting an incoming year than
with Bach’s wonderful, uplifting music, particularly as the
perfect antidote to these troubled times in which we live.
John
Quinn.
Bach Cantata
Pilgrimage themed page