Based on a fairy tale about the Peri of Persian Mythology, Schumann’s Das Paradies und die Peri is an innovative form of dramatic cantata for solo voice, choir, and orchestra. The piece is an oratorio in three parts, with text by Emil Flechsig and Schumann based on the story by Thomas Moore, Lalla Rookh. This recording is from 1981. It features the Leipzig Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester conducted by Wolf-Dieter Hauschild, along with some of the greatest soloists including Magdalena Hajossyova and Marga Schiml.

The reissue of a glorious recording of Bach’s sacred masterwork, the St. Matthew Passion! This performance from the 70ties brings together two of the most esteemed choirs of Germany: the Thomanerchor Leipzig and the Dresdner Kreuzchor, both with traditions going back to the times of the great Cantor Johann Sebastian. The Leipzig Gewandhausorchester and the choirs are conducted by the two brothers Mauersberger, Rudolf and Erhard, both famous for their deep understanding of the Baroque musical language. An excellent line up of soloists: Peter Schreier, Theo Adam, Hermann Christian Polter, Hans Joachim Rotsch. “Deeply moving”, the Gramophone wrote of this performance at the time of release, indeed a set to treasure as the testimony of a deeply felthistorical tradition of Bach performance.

Jazz icon, pianist and composer Dave Brubeck wrote this cantata in an attempt to heal the rift between the Jewish people and American blacks that emerged after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1968. Based on biblical and Hebrew liturgical texts, together with quotations from Dr. King’s speeches, Negro spirituals and the Jewish sage Hillel, with lyrics by Brubeck’s wife Iola, it was intended to underscore and resurrect the spiritual parallels between Jews and blacks. The work draws on their shared history of enslavement and dispersion, their ongoing quest for social justice, and similarities in their forms of musical expression.

Click here to view all available releases in the Milken Archive Series at ArkivMusic.

With these two rarely played works of Robert Schumann, Christoph Spering proudly introduces himself to OehmsClassics. He is able to enthrall audiences, especially at lecture-concerts in Cologne, with the background and secrets of music history and through clear and humorous presentations, creating a link between entertainment and education at a high standard of excellence. OehmsClassics is delighted over this collaboration and anxiously awaits the second publication of this year: The version of Gluck's Iphigenie in Aulis adapted by Richard Wagner.

This new Christmas recording from the male vocal quartet New York Polyphony treads a traditional path–organizing the program sequentially according to the Christian church calendar (from Advent through Epiphany) and primarily sticking to works with familiar texts and sometimes tunes–but from the outset gives notice that the musical settings will not necessarily be the ones you know–which can be a very good thing, or not quite so much. The familiar chant melody of the Advent hymn Veni Emmanuel opens the disc, the four voices in perfect unison–until an unexpected, biting dissonance on the words “Gaude! Gaude!”, repeated in each verse. While in the rest of the piece composer Andrew Smith couches the basic chant melody in a pleasing framework of combined modern and ancient harmonic ideas, this recurring, deliberately ear-grating sound (especially so with these singers’ superbly-tuned, super-vibrant voices!) seems forced and, unless there’s some kind of intended irony–a bitter call to “Rejoice!” for the coming of the Son of God?–this use of extreme dissonance just doesn’t make sense. As always with these things, others will disagree–and no one can deny either the singers’ individual vocal beauty or the impressive ensemble polish.

That said, throughout the rest of the program we hear many more modern settings of ancient and oft-treated texts, including two excellent ones from New York Polyphony countertenor Geoffrey Williams–Adam lay ybounden and There is no rose, the latter an ingenious and absolutely lovely joining of the text to the S.S. Wesley hymn tune “Hereford”, with added “alleluias”. In a nice programming touch (which I’m surprised isn’t adopted more often on recordings like this) three other settings of that same text are included, from the famous 15th-century “original” from the Trinity Carol Roll to John Scott’s decidedly “modern” realization and Richard Rodney Bennett’s masterful melding of old and new style, music that somehow simultaneously resides comfortably in both the 15th and 21st centuries.

We’re also treated to three versions of the text “Out of your sleep”, including one by the abovementioned Andrew Smith, who in this case casts the music in a harmonic world in which the dissonances that he obviously loves (and who doesn’t, in the right context?) beautifully and effectively enhance the expressive impact of music and text. The other two are the “original” 15th-century version from the Selden Manuscript, characterized by assertive, lively rhythms and oft-repeated phrases, and Richard Rodney Bennett’s equally rousing setting, included, along with the above-mentioned There is no rose, in his set of Five Carols, which are all performed here with the addition of sopranos Sarah Brailey and Elizabeth Baber Weaver. Although these performances of the Bennett carols are very well done, I prefer hearing them with a larger ensemble, which gives them a fuller-bodied sound in which you don’t notice individual voices–The Cambridge Singers’ renditions (Collegium), for instance.

The quartet’s bass, Craig Phillips, contributes two excellent pieces (under the name Alexander Craig)–a beautiful harmonization of the traditional Basque carol known as Gabriel’s Message and, a highlight of the disc, an original setting of a James Joyce poem, “Sleep Now”. You can’t complain about the lovely ensemble sound in Victoria’s beloved O magnum mysterium, but there’s something missing interpretively. The heart of the work, that incredible few bars where all is suspended, where the music perfectly captures and defines that precious, surprising moment where we are awestruck by the one who was worthy to bear Christ the Lord: “O beata Virgo…”, this, one of the most affecting moments in all of music, is rendered here as just another part of the piece. Even those delicious dissonances–yes, dissonances!–just go by without a scratch.

There are many other pieces on the program (24 in all), including a few more Renaissance motets and a very interesting modern setting of a not-so-familiar text, O pia virgo (O blessed Virgin), written for New York Polyphony by Michael McGlynn. It’s another of those skillful blends of ancient and new, and it suits the singers very well. As does all of this music, especially evident in the consistent command of ensemble technique, the presence that’s both easy and confident, and the kind of uniform vocal inflection and expressive nuance that only comes with a devoted and close personal and artistic relationship. In spite of a few reservations, I really enjoyed this recording–especially for the works by Geoffrey Williams, Alexander Craig, and Michael McGlynn, and a very fine rendition of the oft-recorded Bethlehem Down by Peter Warlock. It’s impossible not to be impressed with the work these four singers have produced in their previous releases, and this one joins the group’s much earlier (2007) Christmas disc, I Sing the Birth (with a slightly different vocal lineup) as one that will get plenty of play during the holiday season.

-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com [12/2014]

Some hallmark performances in this array of Trinity cantatas

As ever, John Eliot Gardiner’s magnificent Bach Cantatas series eschews the big-boned, monumental approach to this composer of yesteryear. Here, in a really tremendous volume, is spiritual reflection paced to the fast-moving ebb and flow of life today. As such, it always feels relevant and vital. And much of that stems from the fact that Gardiner’s players and singers sound so utterly involved through every bar. Even if it doesn’t approach the polish of some versions, and one or two of the singers are not quite of the vocal quality of rivals, still they perform as if in response to some higher call. Among conductors, of course, few rank higher than Gardiner. And, as ever, the tempi and textures are warm and above all channel a sense of the humane. Woven into the whole are countless magical virtuoso moments – these may be great shared experiences, but the space for individual expression constantly keeps it personal. When the big collective moments do arrive, as at the end of Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, they do so with great force. And, as the marvellous Monteverdi Choir beseech Jesus for mercy, for the strength to resist temptation, there is no question as to the cumulative power of these readings.

-- Gramophone [5/2008]

This indispensable series goes from strength to strength.

This is the release in the series for which I’ve been waiting most keenly. That’s because it includes a concert which I was lucky enough to attend. In July 2000, as part of the Cheltenham Music Festival, Sir John led his pilgrims into the magnificent medieval surroundings of Tewkesbury Abbey for a late Sunday afternoon concert. I was among the capacity audience, accompanied by two Bach-loving friends, both of whom have since died. I’m sure they would have shared my pleasure at reliving the event through the medium of CD. I had completely forgotten that the previous evening Gardiner and the Pilgrims had been at London’s Royal Albert Hall when they’d performed two of these cantatas as part of a Henry Wood Promenade Concert. Sir John comments how pleased they all were to get back to the more intimate feel of a Pilgrimage concert.

Proceedings at Tewkesbury began with BWV 24. The cantata opens with the words “Ein ungefärbt Gemüte von deutscher Treu und Güte macht uns vor Gott und Menschen schön.” (“An unstained mind of German truth and goodness makes us beloved of God and men.”) There’s a calm assurance and confidence about the music to which Bach sets this very Lutheran sentiment. The stately aria that results is sung with great poise by Nathalie Stutzmann. Later there’s a vigorous chorus, which is far from easy to pull off – and which gave even Gardiner’s forces a little trouble in rehearsal, we are told. In performance, however, it’s completely successful. The other especially persuasive feature of this cantata is the plangent tone that Paul Agnew brings to the tenor aria, ‘Treu und Wahrheit sei der Grund’. His approach is ideally suited to the music.

Alfred Dürr states that when Bach first performed BWV 24 in Leipzig he had, on the preceding three Sundays, given the Leipzig congregations much longer and more elaborate bi-partite cantatas, BWV 75, 76 and 21. In order to keep his offering for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity in similar scale he performed two cantatas that day, one either side of the sermon, and the second cantata was BWV 185. This is a much earlier piece but one that contains a good deal of admirable music. It opens with a lovely soprano/tenor duet and here we find the voices of Magdalena Kožená and Paul Agnew intertwining languorously. Miss Kožená’s tone is particularly melting. Added interest comes from Bach’s use of a clarion, which, as Gardiner puts it, we hear “hovering above the two amorous vocal lines.” Further into the cantata there’s another treat in the form of the alto aria ‘Sei bemüht in dieser Zeit’. It’s an enchanting aria and, as Gardiner says, Nathalie Stutzmann’s “sumptuous yet transparent contralto seemed just right for this aria, especially in the glowing afternoon light of Tewkesbury Abbey.” Later comes a bass aria but I’m afraid I don’t find Bach’s music all that appealing on this occasion, nor is the timbre of Nicholas Teste’s voice as ingratiating as I’d like.

The final Tewkesbury offering is BWV 177. This cantata is based on a hymn and Bach, setting five verses, eschews recitative. There’s a substantial and elaborate opening chorus in which the Monteverdi Choir excels. In the alto aria Nathalie Stutzmann once again produces beautifully communicative singing. Her aria is sparsely accompanied by continuo only. The soprano aria is a more elaborate affair with a very decorated vocal line. Magdalena Kožená gives it a fine, fluent reading. The remaining aria is for tenor and it’s mainly jaunty in tone. Agnew sings excellently. Of special note in this aria is the chattering double obbligato, provided by a violin and a bucolic, soft-grained bassoon.

The next stop on the journey was a city with very direct Bachian links. Mühlhausen was the city where Bach worked for just a year (1708-08) before moving on to Weimar, though he appears to have maintained cordial links with Mühlhausen after his departure.

Only two cantatas for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity have come down to us. This relative paucity gave Gardiner the chance to perform at Mühlhausen two highly appropriate cantatas, written for the city but for other occasions. BWV 71 was composed for the inauguration of the town council in February 1708. The splendour of this civic occasion prompted Bach to write for pretty extravagant forces. Four solo voices (SATB) are augmented by an optional ripieno choir (also SATB) and no less than four separate instrumental choirs are specified: three trumpets and drums; two recorders and cello; two oboes and bassoon; two violins, viola, and violone. However, Gardiner points out that the cantata has its weaknesses and he says that it is “somewhat disjointed and short-winded”, a verdict from which it is hard to dissent. However, he very rightly singles out for praise the penultimate movement, the chorus ‘Du wollest dem Feinde” The gentle, expressive music in this movement is a cut above the rest of the score. As Dürr comments, it’s “the most original and captivating movement in the whole cantata.” It’s splendidly done here.

Gardiner fields a strong team of soloists, who blend together most effectively in the third movement, a quartet. This concert introduces us to a soloist not previously encountered on the Pilgrimage, the South African tenor Kobie van Rensburg. His voice was completely new to me but he makes a most favourable impression with a strong, ringing tone and clear articulation and diction. This is heard to good advantage almost immediately in the aria ‘Ich bin nun achtzig Jahr’.

The next cantata, BWV 131 is a much stronger and more rounded composition. Perhaps it helps that Bach had a much more unified text to set in the shape of verses from Psalm 130. The opening chorus is quite superb. The keenly felt slow music with which it opens is most eloquently performed and no less impressive is the account of the lighter, more rapid music that follows. Gardiner dovetails the contrasting textures of solo quartet and main choir most effectively. The fugal chorus, ‘Ich harre des Herrn’, is marvellously balanced, both in musical and emotional terms. I enjoyed van Rensburg’s shaping of the long expressive lines in the following aria, ‘Meine Seele wartet auf den Herrn von einer’ and the impressive chorus with which the cantata ends is splendidly articulated by all concerned. This whole performance is a tremendous success.

Then we hear two later cantatas, specifically written for the Fifth Sunday, where the Gospel for the day tells the story of Peter fishing all night without success yet, letting out his net one more time at the command of Jesus, he then hauls in a munificent catch (Luke, chapter 5 vv1-11). First comes BWV 93. The libretto avoids a specific reference to the gospel story until the tenor recitative (movement V). The extended opening chorus incorporates important contributions from the quartet of soloists. Kobie van Rensburg again attracts favourable attention in his aria ‘Man halte nur ein wenig stille’ (‘Remain silent for a while’). This aria is well described by Gardiner as an “elegant passepied” and I appreciate the touch of steel at the heart of van Rensburg’s plangent voice. Later, he has an important recitative and it’s good to find that he can bring a sense of drama and some effective word painting to a passage such as this. I also liked very much the alert, bright singing of Joanne Lunn in her aria ‘Ich will auf den Herren schaun’, where the oboe obbligato is an equal source of delight.

Finally comes BWV 88. This opens with a pretty unusual bass aria. At the start the libretto refers to God sending fishermen (“Behold, I will send out many fishermen, says the Lord”) and Bach responds with a wonderfully easeful, lilting barcarolle in 6/8 time. The grateful, elevated vocal line is meat and drink to Peter Harvey, who delivers it quite beautifully. Abruptly the mood changes (“And thereafter I will send out many hunters”), the pace quickens appreciably and Bach deploys, in Gardiner’s words, “a rampaging pair of high horns” in the orchestra. Harvey is impressive throughout.

There’s another chance to enjoy van Rensburg’s singing in this cantata. He makes a very good job of the aria ‘Nein, Gott ist allezeit geflissen’ (No, God is always eager that we be on the right path’) Later Joanne Lunn and William Towers blend most effectively in their duet. Gardiner tells us that the audience for this concert was “attentive and rapturous even by the standards of this pilgrimage” and no wonder, for on the evidence of these recordings the good people of Mühlhausen were treated to a splendid and most stimulating concert.

Yet again the standard of performance in these recordings is extremely high and the music is wonderful. Bach’s stream of invention and inspiration is a never-ending source of wonder. I’m also filled with renewed admiration for Sir John, who seems to have an inexhaustible capacity to say something fresh about this marvellous music each time he picks up either his pen to write the notes or his baton to direct the performances. This indispensable series goes from strength to strength.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

MASON Ave fuit prima salus. ANON Cunctipotens genitor. LUDFORD Missa Inclina cor meum • Scott Metcalfe, cond; Blue Heron • BLUE HERON 1004 (59:58 Text and Translation)


Philip Heseltine (better known his compositional pseudonym of Peter Warlock) once lamented that all the music of England’s Golden Age that still existed had been found, and that there was no more to uncover, or transcribe. But this was towards the end of his short life, while in deep depression. In the more than 80 years that have passed since that time, much additional music has been brought to light. Some of it, too, that was previously damaged to the point where performance was thought impossible, has been painstakingly reconstructed.


This is the case with a subset of the Peterhouse partbooks compiled in a relatively short time, probably in the early 1540s, following Henry VIII’s famous Dissolution of the Monasteries. The king’s death in 1547 led to a series of rulers and policies that set the nation careening across the religious spectrum, with various levels of tolerance towards such delights as sacred choral music. At some point, whether through neglect or deliberate sabotage, the tenor book vanished, and was never recovered. Portions of the treble book also went missing. What made this particular loss severe is that of the 72 pieces included in the Henrician group of partbooks, 39 are unica , while another 12 exist elsewhere only in incomplete versions.


The reconstruction of individual pieces has become the lifework of musicologist Nick Sandon. It’s his editions we hear on this album, with a new version of the missing tenor part in the Mass, and both treble and tenor in the antiphon. These are world premieres of both works in two respects, then—not only first recordings, but also part of a series of first performances since the mid-17th century, at the latest.


John Mason is by far the least-known of the composers on this release, and the only reason we know his music at all is because of four works in these partbooks. The Ave fuit prima salus isn’t based on a cantus firmus . Its interest lies in the brilliant yet subtle variations the composer works on each of his 17 verses that conclude with “Ave Maria.” Mason is a past master at varying textures through the number and color of active parts, but the emphasis tends for the most part towards the contemplative side of the emotional scale, as is appropriate. Sandon is quoted in the liner notes as finding the text “as undistinguished as literature as it is pedestrian in theology,” but it is all turned to gold by the composer.


The Missa Inclina cor meum is the second of two by Ludford that come down to us solely from the Peterhouse partbooks. (The other, Missa Regnum mundi , was recorded on Blue Heron 1003, and reviewed in Fanfare 36:1.) As its cantus firmus is not associated with any specific feast day, Metcalfe has chosen not to include plainchant Propers. The custom of the day in England was to omit writing a through-composed Kyrie, and replace it with a plainsong-based textual trope—which is exactly what we get here with Cunctipotens genitor , instead of leaving a mass minus a movement as many recordings do: well done. Metcalfe points in particular to a passage in the Sanctus where the basses greatly augment the melody as the top voices “spin out melodies high above” as an example of “truly strange passages,” but in its entirety this mass is a boldly imaginative work of great melodic beauty and harmonic sensitivity.


What continues to set apart these recordings of Blue Heron from the majority of choirs recording similar repertoire is the use of expressive devices. To beauty of phrasing, and the careful blending of parts, Scott Metcalfe adds clarity of enunciation, flexible tempos, and both a general and part-related control of dynamics that never approaches stylistic anachronism. As a result, the music doesn’t float in a vacuum, but becomes the carrier when appropriate for an emotional current. When it is sung that with Mary “angels rejoice and archangels exult,” for example, the performance reasonably seconds the music, and the score blazes with the brightness of that eternal moment. There are many more instances of that, all to the good.


The sound is close and resonant, but absolutely clear, with none of the messy lack of focus that comes from cloudy, over-reverberant efforts. The quality of this series remains as high as ever, both for music and performance. Available from blueheronchoir.org and, needless to add, strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

The vast power of the Royal Courts of England and Scotland may be long gone but the sumptuous sounds of their worship are not lost. This disc brings together music of some of the most outstanding but now little-known composers of the 15th and 16th centuries, and introduces a major new work by one of this century's most remarkable composers. Robert Carver's mesmeric setting of the devotional text O bone Jesu has long been admired and has now proved an inspiration to James MacMillan who has chosen with this special commission for The Sixteen, to clothe the same text in his own musical language of reflective beauty.