It’s reported that, after a Passion performance (composer unknown), an elderly noble widow exclaimed: ‘God save us, my children! It’s just as if we were at a comic opera.’ Though Bach never wrote an opera, he was no stranger to the genre. His cantatas reflect the recitative/aria structure and the Passion story provided the missing element, dramatic narrative. In the theatre of his imagination, Bach’s response matched anything staged by his secular contemporaries. The music is dramatic from the start: dissonant wind above nervous violins and pulsating bass, before the choir prays of the glory and pain of the Passion. Suzuki balances the layers beautifully: the dense texture, recorded fairly close, retains every detail. Türk’s narrative as Evangelist is accompanied by harpsichord, with organ added for the words of Jesus. He sings with dramatic insight, though without the theatrical sensitivity which sets my benchmark – Rolfe-Johnson’s offhand approach to less consequential moments exemplifies the visionary realism of Gardiner and his team. The chorus is a fearsome mob – indignant, angry, self-righteous in turn. As the Christian congregation, its chorales flow without sanctimonious pauses. The soloists are superb in their eight arias, each differently coloured. Orchestral playing is meticulous, the intonation exemplary, even in the wind-players’ B flat minor graveyard, as the soprano’s heart ‘melts in floods of tears’ (No. 35). My benchmark remains. But if you prefer reverence to dramatic realism, this outstanding achievement will surely be for you. Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- George Pratt, BBC Music Magazine

Volume 11 of BIS's cantata series gives us four more examples from Bach's first annual cycle in Leipzig. Despite their relatively narrow time span (July to September 1723) and the consequent pressure that it imposed on Bach, there's no suggestion of formula, either in structure or in content, linking these cantatas. And although none of them is particularly well known, each is memorable in its own right. In a list of highlights, one might cite the alto aria with oboe d'amore of BWV 136; the opening chorale and recitative (also countertenor) of BWV 138; the tenor aria, "Ach schlage doch," with its characteristic imitations of bells, of BWV 95; and BWV 46's somber opening chorus (later reworked as the "Qui tollis" of the B-Minor Mass). It goes without saying that such a list would be incomplete.

As always, conductor Suzuki has assembled an fine quartet of soloists, with the ever-reliable Kooij and the marvelous Midori Suzuki at the bottom and top, respectively, and tenor Sakurada again stepping out of the chorus to prove his considerable mettle. New to the series is the outstanding German countertenor Kai Wessel, who has been prominently featured in the Koopman series as well. Suzuki's thoughtful direction and the splendid singing and playing of the Bach Collegium Japan have become givens in the series. Exemplary notes (Taasashi Isoyama shares the duties with Suzuki) and BIS's customarily excellent engineering complete the package.

This latest installment in an eminent ongoing project is self-recommending, but deservedly so.

-- George Chien, FANFARE

This 10th volume in BIS's ongoing Bach cantata series features three works Bach composed during his first summer in Leipzig. While BWV 179 certainly has been recorded more frequently, BVW 186 (Ärgre dich, o Seele, nicht) is the most significant of the three because of its greater length and because it marks Bach's return to two-part cantata form. Based on a revised lost cantata originally composed at Weimar, this is a remarkably assured work, grand in conception yet subtle in its underlying beauty. The opening chorus must be counted among Bach's most stately, its impact augmented by multiple oboes, strings, and full continuo. Among the soloists, tenor Makato Sakurada delivers an introspective fourth-movement recitative that perfectly sets up his spirited fifth-movement aria. Equally distinguished is the 10th-movement duet, expertly harmonized by countertenor Robin Blaze and soprano Miah Persson--a dance that steps as high as any we've heard from Bach so far.

The popularity of BWV 179--Siehe zu, dass deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei (Make sure that your fear of God is not hypocrisy)--is understandable since it not only includes one of Bach's most exciting opening choruses, but also gives unusual dramatic license to the soloists through the text's many self-deprecating references. In respect to the latter, for its sheer declarative power, no recording surpasses Karl Richter's awe-inspiring 1976 Archiv account featuring Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Peter Schreier, and Edith Mathis. While not quite up to Richter's level, Suzuki and his forces offer their own interpretive details. For instance, in the fifth-movement aria Suzuki broadens the tempo, and the additional time (more than a minute longer than Richter's version) heightens Persson's characterization of wanton shame and pity. The only performance slower than Suzuki's (more than a minute longer!) is Gunther Ramin's, where Elisabeth Meinel-Asbahr's ruthless, devastating anguish guarantees tears.

BWV 105--Herr, gehe nicht ins Gericht mit deinem Knecht (Lord, do not enter into judgment with thy servant)--also features many inspired moments. The magnificent, brooding opening chorus is most engaging, and tenor Sakurada's beautifully rendered espousal of determination in his fifth-movement aria is superb--as is the final chorale, where Bach's clever, near-dissonant string writing effectively alludes to weariness if not weeping, the gradually slowing pulse eventually leading to resigned calm.

As usual with this series Suzuki and his colleagues deliver performances that more often than not are without peer. Faithfully captured by BIS's expert engineering team, their ongoing cycle promises to be the most consistently rewarding one currently or previously available.

--John Greene, ClassicsToday.com