Buxtehude’s Membra Jesu Nostri consists of seven cantatas, 
                  each a meditation on the wounds of Christ on the Cross. There 
                  are detailed historical notes and some analysis of the music 
                  in Joachim Steinheuer’s booklet notes, but to sum up, here is 
                  music often of the utmost tenderness in simplicity both of instrumentation 
                  and musical content. This is at once both its strength and its 
                  difficulty in performance, with the risk of things sounding 
                  rather samey by the time you reach the end.
                   
                  There are a few more than decent recordings of this music around. 
                  I have a good deal of time for Masaaki Suzuki’s recording on 
                  BIS, which brings out plenty of drama and contrast with a feeling 
                  of large scale, using a full chorus and soloists to bring out 
                  the best of all that depth and restraint. There is also a Chandos 
                  recording with Emma Kirkby, Michael Chance et al which 
                  is a useful reference (see review), 
                  though one which depends rather on your liking the character 
                  of these particular soloists.
                   
                  This Accent version led by Sigiswald Kuijken comes across as 
                  quite a different animal to both of these examples. Fans of 
                  the label will know a little of the clean sense of transparency 
                  they can expect from the recording, and the lighter, arguably 
                  thinner texture from the strings of La Petite Bande is apparent 
                  from the outset. With one voice to a part choruses we lack the 
                  sense of heft and contrast from Suzuki’s BIC performance, but 
                  gain in intimacy as a result. The singers are generally good, 
                  though Anne-Katrin Schenk’s Soprano I is one with a 
                  mildly helium-powered colouration – strongest in stratospheric 
                  heights. Gunther Vandeven’s high male alto is a good deal more 
                  neutral than Michael Chance; once again a question of taste. 
                  Tenor Jens Weber is very fine, but even he is pushed to his 
                  limits in Buxtehude’s extreme highs in track 20, Pectus 
                  mihi confer mundum.
                   
                  This is a performance with many beautiful moments. The Quid 
                  sunt plagae and its preceding Sonata of III. 
                  Ad manus is sublime. There is a delicious way Kuijken obtains 
                  expression and intensity even with this minimum of resources 
                  and a distinct lack of ornamentation, though not an entire lack 
                  of vibrato, which can make all the difference at certain points. 
                  This is however a performance which gives a cooler and more 
                  introverted impression in comparison to the other examples. 
                  Not to say there are not lively moments: the Sicut modo 
                  geniti which opens V. Ad pectus has plenty of 
                  rhythmic verve. There is no feel of dragging or artificially 
                  mannered laying on of expression with the figurative trowel.
                   
                  If you like your Buxtehude without too much extra character 
                  or unique personality then this will be the one for you. I don’t 
                  mean this as a backhanded criticism, more to point out that 
                  there are few elements here which will prevent you wanting to 
                  come back for repeat listening. It doesn’t generate much excitement, 
                  but this is in the nature of the music. La Petite Band is very 
                  good throughout, but there is a strange moment at the end of 
                  track 6, the Sonata in tremulo. This is taken more 
                  slowly than many versions - an interesting rather than a disappointing 
                  feature, but there is a moment at the end where the bass steadfastly 
                  refuses to follow the ritenuto of the upper strings 
                  and ends up having to skip in an extra note to keep together 
                  in the final chords.
                   
                  The filler is a very fine five part funerary lamentation, Fried- 
                  und Freudenreiche Hinfahrt, which couples very well with 
                  the cantatas which precede it. These are pieces with exquisitely 
                  wrought counterpoint, and some wonderfully scrunchy dissonant 
                  chromatic clashes to highlight significant words and create 
                  an atmosphere of potent and moving grief. The final Klag-Lied 
                  is a masterpiece, and with some spine-tingling high notes from 
                  the soprano would fit well as part of a Peter Greenaway film 
                  soundtrack.
                   
                  In all I would count this as a successful release, though perhaps 
                  not quite a definitive Membra Jesu Nostri. This is 
                  however a space in which you will always be able to lose yourself 
                  in a world of richly expressive ecclesiastical mourning and 
                  emerge, sadder and wiser, making the playful sunlight of your 
                  day that much brighter and attractive.
                   
                  Dominy Clements