The redoubtable Rozhdestvensky, chief conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra from 1978 to 1981, is at his very best in Russian repertoire. Indeed, his Shostakovich has a raw energy that never fails to excite, so I had high hopes for this recording of Tchaikovsky’s febrile Fourth. The other items on this disc – all recorded live by the BBC – make for a sensible and interesting programme, the rarely heard Sorochinsky Fair version of Night on a Bald Mountain especially welcome. Also worthy of note is the growing catalogue of archive material from the recently launched ICA label, some of it previously unreleased and much of it – the Tennstedt Mahler 3, for instance – very desirable indeed.

The upfront blare of horns and bassoons at the start of the Tchaikovsky gives a clear indication of the character of Rozhdestvensky’s approach to this score; it’s vital and vigorous, yet the rhythms of ‘In movimento di Valse’ have grace and charm. The big climaxes pack a terrific punch – what thrilling timps – the transported brass scything through the mix like one of those brazen, Soviet-era performances. That’s not to say it’s over-driven – well, not yet, anyway – merely that it’s not the carefully sculpted sound-world of, say, Claudio Abbado (DG) or Lorin Maazel (Telarc). This uncompromising earthiness is reinforced by a forthright, yet detailed, recording.

The oboe playing at the start of the Andantino is lovely, Rozhdestvensky alive to the emotional undertow of this music. The strings and woodwind are wonderfully alert and ardent, testament perhaps to Noddy’s rigorous rehearsals, and there’s real nobility in those big, swelling tunes. Anyone who knows Rozhdestvensky’s Royal Festival Hall Sleeping Beauty (BBC Legends BBCL 4091-2) will recognise that seemingly intuitive feel for phrasing; it all sounds so spontaneous. As for the animated pizzicati of the Scherzo, they have a fleeting, will-o’-the-wisp quality that’s most engaging.

All that evaporates in the sudden heat of the Allegro con fuoco. In his autobiography producer John Culshaw tells the story of how Georg Szell was tricked into taping an ill-tempered – yet fiery – rendition of this finale, but even he can’t match the incandescence of Rozhdestvensky’s reading. The BBC brass and percussion are truly heroic, the orchestra hard-driven yet coherent to the very end. I listened to this track several times, scarcely able to believe this music could be taken at such a lick and not descend into chaos. The instant roar from the otherwise very quiet audience says it all. A thumping performance, and a pretty good recording too.

A Night on the Bare Mountain, most often played in Rimsky’s orchestration, is given here in Anatoly Liadov’s hotch-potch culled from Mussorgsky’s unfinished opera Sorochinsky Fair. The change of venue – London’s Royal Albert Hall – and the very immediate recording add an edge to the choral singing that brings plenty of piquancy and passion to this strange hybrid. Remarkably, Rozhdestvensky gets his British forces to play and sing with all the abandon of their Russian counterparts. What a team they would have made in Alexander Nevsky. Musically this is fascinating, with unusual colours and a melting coda. I’d urge you to give this a try if you don’t already know it.

If not Nevsky, then Prokofiev’s suite from The Love for Three Oranges will do very nicely, thank you. And so it proves; ‘The Clowns’ is played with manic energy and ‘The Magician’ is magnificently malevolent. Prokofiev’s audacious rhythms and acid colours are superbly caught, ditto the ever-present percussion and demented brass. As for the March and Scherzo, they’re imbued with rather more menace than usual, ‘The Prince and Princess’ as inward and ardent as ever. The scurrying strings and lancing brass of ‘The Flight’ have seldom emerged with such ferocity, or the cymbals sizzled so. An ear-blasting end to a most entertaining collection.

Noddy fans will want this disc, and those who have yet to experienced his unique blend of eloquence and excitement would do well to start here. The Tchaikovsky is a stunner, and while the Mussorgsky is something of a curiosity it’s well worth having. The Prokofiev-on-steroids is a wild but welcome bonus.

Another fine issue from ICA.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Despite our increasingly secular society, many modern composers, inspired by ancient religious texts, have written music that is spiritual, pure and remarkably peaceful. + This release, a celebration of modern sacred music composed 1983-2011, and much of it of Russian or East-European origin, includes young Ukrainian composer Dimitri Tchesnokov’s Three Sacred Songs, Alfred Schnittke’s Three Sacred Hymns and more established works such as Arvo Pärt’s Magnificat. + The young conductor Léo Warynski directs Les Métaboles, who sing Russian and Latin with excellent diction and clear focus.

A High Point in the CPE Bach Anniversary Year: Frieder Bernius and the Kammerchor Stuttgart are marking the composer’s 300th anniversary with a recording of the oratorio "Die Israeliten in der Wüste" (The Israelites in the Wilderness). In 1768, right at the beginning of his long period as musical director of the Hamburg principal churches, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach composed this masterpiece. The new, sensitive musical language he used delighted contemporaries and colleagues alike. This recording contributes a fitting concluding note to the anniversary year.

I'd aim to convert music-loving friends who resist Bach cantatas with the latest volume in the Bach Pilgrimage. Anyone who fails to succumb to the thrilling celestial melee in No 19 is a lost cause.

-- Richard Wigmore, Gramophone [12/2006]

Under the direction of founder and artistic director Robert Geary, the twenty professional singers that make up Volti lead the nation in the discovery, creation and performance of new vocal music. They are the only six-time winners of the Chorus America/ASCAP Award for Adventurous Pro-¼gramming of Contemporary Music. On their new album, House of Voices, they introduce six 21st-century works from American composers of dazzling range and diversity, including five Volti commissions.

I’m not sure you could do better than this.

Naxos has collated its Haydn Masses series into a single box [8.508009] so if you fancy having the full works in a single handy collection these performances, conducted by J. Owen Burdick and Jane Glover, may fit your bill, and price bracket. Single discs are still available, and this one is no exception; a 2003 recording of the once-neglected 1767 Stabat Mater.

The forces are familiar ones, given their prominence in the Naxos series. The direction and execution are able, the singing generally good, phrasing attractive. An affirmative spirit courses through the performance and it mitigates the sometimes funereal performances that we used to hear. The orchestral forces, the Rebel Baroque Orchestra, employ period instruments and practice, which gives a not unwelcome astringency to some - but by no means all - of the playing. The balance between solo voices, orchestral solos and the choir is a just one.

There is, in fact, little with which to cross swords in a performance as attractive as this. Comparing older, conventional performances with one such as this is not comparing like-with-like, but if one were to do so, one should point out that the famous old Laszlo Heltay recording, with a stellar vocal line up of Augér, Hodgson, Rolfe-Johnson and Howell, is invariably a minute slower in all the more extensive movements, which adds considerably to the total timing, and also the sense of incipient gravity and contemplation generated by such tempos.

Here we find articulation is bright and tight. Stephen Sands has a quite light tenor, but it’s mobile and relatively flexible. He starts the work, soloistically, with the Stabat mater dolorosa and when he follows bass Richard Lippold in the Virgo virginum praeclara - and before the other two voices enter - he blends well with his colleagues. Luthien Brackett has an attractive, well focused alto, and Ann Hoyt sports a bright, youthful soprano. She makes a fine showing in Quis non posset contristari where spruce winds and a well balanced organ are strongly to the fore. Understandably perhaps she snatches at breaths a touch in the Sancta Mater, istud agas. Lippold is a pleasantly sonorous bass, doing well by Pro peccatis suae gentis. The chorus, which is the Trinity Choir, come into its own in the concluding Paradisi Gloria where the bases don’t over-part the tenors - and indeed all sections sing well.

The acoustic works in favour of the performance, though there is some ambient noise floating about, audible at higher levels. I didn’t find it especially distracting. So if you fancy an original instrument performance with good soloists, band and choir and a brisk, attractive tempo, and all at a bargain price bracket, I’m not sure you could do better than this.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

One of the most important composers of opera and sacred music between Mozart and Rossini, and Donizetti' teacher, Johann Simon Mayr also composed several major oratorios, including David and the Marriage of Tobias. Like Haydn' more famous Il Rito.

BERLIOZ Requiem • Dimitri Mitropoulos, cond; Nicolai Gedda (ten); Cologne RO & Ch • ICA 5075 (82:22) Live: Cologne 8/26/1956


Having been, for the most part (all but the “March to the Scaffold” and “Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath”), been impressed by Dimitri Mitropoulos’s studio recording of Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique with the New York Philharmonic, I was very curious to hear what the famed Greek conductor did with the Requiem. I hadn’t known that there was an alternative performance conducted by Mitropoulos from July 15, 1956, with tenor Leopold Simoneau and the Vienna Philharmonic, nor have I heard that performance (available on Orfeo d’Or 457971), but in listening to this Cologne performance from August all I could think was how absolutely wonderful it is from start to finish.


Granted, the Cologne Radio Choir is no match for Roger Norrington’s exquisitely blended forces in his recording for Hänssler (which I dubbed a Classical Hall of Fame item in the last issue), but in the 1950s there were few choruses that good … Bayreuth, perhaps, and Wilhelm Pitz’s magnificent Philharmonia Chorus, but not many others. Within the scope of radio choirs of that era, the Cologne singers acquit themselves very well. But even more impressive is the sound of the orchestra, the incredible wealth of textural detail that Mitropoulos is able to draw from it, and more importantly, how well it is recorded. For a 1956 mono radio broadcast, the sound on this disc is phenomenal—easily on par with the absolute best high-fidelity products issued by RCA, EMI, and even Decca-London. Just to give you the most crucial example, there is actually some depth to the sound when the four brass choirs enter in the Dies irae , in fact, more depth to the sound than Seiji Ozawa’s digital recording with the Boston Symphony on RCA-BMG.


But even better than the sound is the musical treatment of the score. As much as I like Norrington’s leisurely pacing, which matches so well the depth of sound he is able to elicit from his orchestra, Mitropoulos gives us what I would characterize as the true Berlioz style. This performance is only five minutes shorter than Norrington’s, but it sounds much faster because Mitropoulos never lets the momentum sag. He is continually nudging the beat forward, even in the quietest and slowest passages in the score, with the result that the listener hears much more of the work’s structure without sacrificing quality of emotion or depth of feeling. It’s like listening to Charles Munch’s Symphonie fantastique, Colin Davis’s early recording of Romeo et Juliette, and either the Toscanini or Fischer-Dieskau recordings of Harold in Italy. It’s that good, and it’s in the same style. It’s also astonishing how much hall ambience, and more importantly depth of sound, is captured here considering that this was recorded not in a church or concert hall, but in Studio 1 of the Cologne radio station. Taking all of that into consideration, the sonic results almost beggar belief.


It would take far more room that I have to describe all the stunning moments in this performance, but allow me to pinpoint one: the way Mitropoulos pulls back on the syncopated wind and string figures at the beginning of the Lacrimosa . This has a tautness, and almost a swagger, in the rhythm that I’ve not heard achieved by any other conductor in this work. Another interesting aspect of this performance is to compare its timings to the other Mitropoulos version as well as Norrington. As previously mentioned, this Cologne performance runs only five minutes shorter than the Norrington, but the Vienna version runs three minutes faster than this. Without having heard it, then, I would have to say that I think I’d prefer this recording anyway. I really don’t like my Berlioz Requiem rushed that much, which is another reason I don’t care for the Ozawa recording.


There is but one movement where more space is required, and that is the Sanctus. It is gorgeously sung by Nicolai Gedda in his best early voice—in stereo recordings, only Stuart Burrows is as good and only Leopold Simoneau and Toby Spence come close—but the tenor is up front and center in the soundspace, not recessed in the back as he is supposed to be. It’s a small flaw but a telling one.


Could this, then, be a first-choice Requiem? Yes, but only if you don’t mind monophonic sound and the up-front recording of the tenor soloist. If you do, Norrington is clearly your best choice, and as I said last issue, there are few better than his performance, but this is one of those few. Another small miracle is the fact that ICA has managed to cram 82 and a half minutes of music on one CD.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

After it's 'undeniably beautiful' (The Financial Times) Linn debut and it's 'excellently performed' (Fanfare) follow up, Cappella Nova releases a third volume of choral works by the leading contemporary composer, James MacMillan. Of the eight works performed here, six receive their premiere recording (only 'Missa Dunelmi' and 'Invocation' have been previously recorded). Cappella Nova has enjoyed a 25 year association with MacMillan; the choir has established an intuitive response to his work and a passion for his creativity that is evident on Alpha & Omega. 'Missa Dunelmi' is conducted by the composer; founding director Alan Tavener lends his enthusiasm and expertise for the remaining works. James MacMillan provides illuminating and fascinating insights into his work in a conversation with Rebecca Tavener included in the booklet note.

The music on this album, was written by John Rutter for a variety of choirs and occasions, over a period of many years. From ceremonial and uplifting, to quiet and reflective, this album features 14 classic tracks from Collegium recordings, plus two previously unreleased tracks.

-----

REVIEW:

The Cambridge Singers and City of London Sinfonia have the lion's share of this disc. They present amazing performances: very clear diction, tuning and a great sense of blend within the choir, as well as very expressive playing from the orchestra. One thing that this compilation album highlights is the choir's consistency over nearly twenty years.

– MusicWeb International

WETZ Christmas Oratorio • George Alexander Albrecht, cond; Marietta Zumbült (sop); Máté Sólyom-Nagy (bar); Thuringian CO; Erfurt P Ch; Dombergchor Erfurt • CPO 777 638-2 (70:02 Text and Translation)


In Fanfare . 20:5, William Zagorski reviewed cpo’s release of the Requiem by Richard Wetz (1875–1935). His enthusiastic appraisal of the work is more or less identical to my reaction to this Christmas Oratorio, a later Wetz work completed in 1928. Zagorski’s concluding endorsement well applies to this new recording: “Does this obscure offering by an obscure composer belong in the international standard repertoire? After listening to this fine and illuminating performance, I can answer that question in a single word: absolutely.”


The Christmas Oratorio—powerful at times, artfully composed in a way that sustains interest over its considerable length, and often affecting—is a significant discovery. Cpo does the music a great service by issuing it in such a fine, polished performance. Unfortunately, listeners eager to learn about this inexplicably neglected composer are shortchanged by the absence of a basic biography of Wetz in the booklet notes. Zagorski had the same complaint, and I refer subscribers to his review in the Fanfare Archive. It provides biographical background originally found on the website Len@musicweb-international.com.


The oratorio has a three-part structure comparable to that of L’Enfance du Christ, though it’s less of a dramatic narrative, and lacks Berlioz’s moments of exoticism. The titles of the work’s three sections are “Expectation and Annunciation,” “The Birth of Christ,” and “The Three Kings.” Wetz’s text is made up of a sequence of old German folk poems and his musical setting effectively interweaves folk-like material into a more complex chromatic style. Part II builds to a grand finale and part III ends with a big, jubilant double fugue, a contrapuntal tour de force , but much of the oratorio maintains a consoling tone that steers clear of sentimentality or bombast. The overall effect is not unlike that of the Brahms Requiem.


Wetz’s three symphonies composed in the manner of Bruckner have been issued by cpo and praised by three Fanfare critics. There are some Brucknerian climaxes in the Christmas Oratorio, but its overall feeling has more of a kinship with the tuneful, evocative music of Hansel and Gretel . Wetz’s melodic lines have some of the character of Parsifal’s simpler leitmotifs, and his adherence to tonality has something in common with the music of his Austrian contemporary Franz Schmidt. But in re-listening to Schmidt’s 1935–37 oratorio The Book of the Seven Seals , its eclectic, more operatic striving for effect strikes me as more effortful than Wetz’s approach. Of course, the Book of Revelation calls for something less gentle than the Nativity story.


There’s a recurring pattern in the Christmas Oratorio that Zagorski notes in Wetz’s Requiem, a musical movement from darkness to light, or conflict to resolution. Wetz’s careful chromatic writing, often imitative, creates a mysterious, brooding atmosphere that’s eventually dispelled by the opposite mood. We hear the former in opening orchestral prelude, among many other passages, and the latter in the first entrance of the women’s chorus with a simple diatonic folk tune. It’s a magical effect.


If the names of the provincial-sounding choruses and orchestra are unfamiliar to you, have no fear. They perform at the highest level. Conductor George Alexander Albrecht leads an inspiring, well-balanced performance and it doesn’t hurt that the baritone soloist, Máté Sólyom-Nagy, who has a large role, sounds uncannily like Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in his prime: a pure and resonant voice with glorious diction. Marietta Zumbült is adequate, but a more radiant, secure soprano soloist would have made this a perfect performance. The recorded sound is properly resonant with a wide dynamic range.


FANFARE: Paul Orgel

It’s a measure of the importance of Whitsun in the Lutheran calendar that, like Christmas and Easter, the feast was celebrated over three days. This latest release in the Bach Cantata Pilgrimage series consists of two concerts given on consecutive days in the same venue, Holy Trinity Church, Long Melford, in Suffolk details. This noble church, much lauded by Simon Jenkins in his book, England’s Thousand Best Churches, is one of the so-called Wool Churches and is mainly late-Perpendicular in style.

Readers who have been following the reviews of this series to date will know that one of its many notable features is the booklet notes. These are taken from a journal that Sir John Eliot Gardiner compiled during the Pilgrimage. It seems to me that his notes for this present volume are the finest to date. He writes with particular eloquence about the feast of Pentecost and Bach’s music for the festival and he’s particularly adept on this occasion at pointing out resonances between the theology of the feast, Bach’s music and the venue for the concerts.

The first concert – and CD – consisted of cantatas for Whit Sunday itself. Proceedings get off to a joyous start with the exuberant, trumpet-led chorus that opens BWV 172. The rhythms bounce infectiously and the trumpets ring out festively. The first aria in this cantata is one of Bach’s puissant bass and trumpet arias, ‘Heiligste Dreieinigkeit’. This is authoritatively dispatched by the German-born Greek bass, Panajotis Iconomou, a singer that I can’t recall hearing before, though he was a finalist in the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 2001. After this Bach provides respite and refreshment in the form of the easeful tenor aria, ‘O Seelenparadies’ This suits the light, heady voice of Christoph Genz admirably. I also relished the sensuous performance of the duet for soprano and alto, ‘Komm, lass mich nicht länger warten.’ The cantata ends with two choral movements. First comes a chorale, which is enriched by a countermelody for the orchestral violins. Then we are treated to a most welcome reprise of the opening chorus, which rounds off a very fine cantata in a splendid performance.

Next we hear the first of Bach’s cantatas entitled Wer mich liebet, der wird mein Wort halten, BWV 59. The origins of this piece, which dates from 1723 or 1724, are a little uncertain and Gardiner’s note is good on this point. I enjoyed the duet for soprano and bass with which it opens. The two trumpet parts that accompany the singers are surprisingly – and very effectively – restrained in tone. It’s somewhat unusual to find a chorale as the third movement. The bass aria that follows is a fine creation. It’s a lovely, lyrical inspiration in which a graceful vocal line is complemented by an equally suave violin obbligato. I admired the velvety tone that Panajotis Iconomou deploys here. The cantata lacks a closing chorale and it seems to me that Eliot Gardiner’s solution is a sensible one. He repeats the chorale that we heard earlier, but the choir now sings a different verse of the same hymn.

Bach revisited the text of Wer mich liebet, der wird mein Wort halten again in 1725. He re-worked some of the music from BWV 59 in this new cantata, BWV 74, and, apart from the opening movement, he set a different text. The opening movement of BWV 59 is transformed here into a four-part chorus. The music for BWV 59’s above-mentioned bass aria, ‘Die Welt mit allen Königreichen’, is now assigned to a soprano with an oboe da caccia obbligato. This re-worked aria, ‘Komm, komm, mein Herze steht dir offen’, is quite delightful and I share John Eliot Gardiner’s preference for this version of the music. The partnership of soprano and oboe da caccia has been encountered before, in BWV 1 (Volume 21), and I find it highly effective. Lisa Larsson is the accomplished soprano on this occasion. The dazzling tenor aria, ‘Kommt, eilet, stimmet Sait und Lieder’ is a real tour de force. Christoph Genz delivers this virtuoso piece superbly. As we shall see later, the mixture of lightness and steel in his voice is absolutely right for such music. The cantata also contains a hugely demanding aria for the alto soloist, ‘Nichts kann mich erretten’, which is distinguished in particular by the leaps that the singer is required to make from one extreme of his register to the other. It’s a dramatic piece and Derek Lee Ragin gives a graphic account of it. However, the timbre of his voice may not be to all tastes and I must admit a preference for Robin Blaze’s performance in Gardiner’s earlier account of this cantata, to which I shall come in a moment.

Finally we are given the superb cantata, O ewiges Feuer, o Ursprung der Liebe, BWV 34. This begins with one of the most exciting choruses in all Bach. This large- scale, celebratory piece is adorned with silvery trumpets and makes a most splendid impression here. The music is like the rushing of the Pentecostal wind itself and it’s hard to imagine it done with greater fervour than in this exuberant performance. The Monteverdi Choir surpass themselves with singing that is light and effervescent yet which has the requisite weight too. It’s tremendously disciplined yet it still sounds spontaneous. I can see that some eyebrows might be raised at the strong accents in the central section of the chorus but I love it. Gardiner says of this chorus: "In performance it generates colossal energy and elation" and that’s certainly the case here.

In the tenor aria that follows Christoph Genz’s singing reminded me of the splendid and sensitive work he did as the Evangelist in the performances of Christmas Oratorio with which the Pilgrimage began in December 1999. This is followed by the heavenly aria ‘Wohl euch, ihr auserwählten Seelen’. From his comments in the notes it’s clear that Nathalie Stutzmann’s performance made a deep impression on Sir John and I’m not surprised. She gives a serene account of the aria, which I find even more satisfying than Bernarda Fink’s fine performance in the earlier DG recording (see below.) The end of the cantata contains a stroke of genius, with the choir bursting in abruptly at the end of the bass recitativo. This is the prelude to "a typhoon of an orchestral finale" as Gardiner describes it, where choir and orchestra combine to bring what must have been a memorable concert to a jubilant end.

Collectors should note that Gardiner has recorded these four Whit Sunday cantatas, BWV 34, 59, 74 and 172 before. They were issued by DG in 2000 as one of the series of discs issued at the time the Pilgrimage was in progress (DG 463 584-2). The disc is still available, I believe, but it contains different performances, recorded under studio conditions in April 1999 and all the soloists on the DG disc are different, with the exception of Christoph Genz. This earlier disc is by no means eclipsed by the newcomer. However, the SDG accounts seem to me to have that indefinable ‘edge’, which perhaps stems from the fact that they are live performances. I’ve highlighted above a couple of points where I have a preference for the newcomer. What clinches it for me, however, is the opening chorus of BWV 172. Here the new version has more life and buoyancy. The tempo is fractionally faster and the rhythms seem that tiny bit more urgently sprung. Though the 1999 performance is excellent its successor is even more joyous: it’s a real winner.

The next day three more cantatas were given, all for Whit Monday. Erhöhtes Fleisch und Blut, BWV 173 was a re-working of a 1717 cantata written while Bach was in Cöthen, to celebrate the birthday of Prince Leopold, his employer. In its adapted, liturgical format, as BWV 173, the cantata may well have been heard first in Leipzig in 1723 but Eliot Gardiner’s performance is of a further re-working of the score that Bach undertook in 1728. Christoph Genz’s combination of lightness of voice and steely ring, already noted in BWV 74, is again a source of pleasure in the gigue-like aria, ‘Ein geheiligtes Gemüte.’ The busy alto aria, ‘Gott will, o ihr Menschenkinder’ is not, perhaps, one of Bach’s most memorable inspirations. However, the following duet for soprano and bass is a delight. It’s something of a technical tour de force, as Bach moves through a succession of scoring, metres and keys. It’s very well done here.

Also hat Gott die Welt geliebet, BWV 68 is a work that, as Eliot Gardiner comments, "almost seems as if [it] were composed back-to-front" since it begins with what he terms a "lyrical and wistful" chorale and concludes with a much more dramatic chorus of the type that one might expect to find at the start of a cantata. However, as so often, Bach’s musical inspiration fits the text perfectly and the gentle, lilting rhythm of the opening movement serves to emphasise quiet joy that God sent his son to redeem the world. In this splendid performance both the singers and the instrumentalists are alive to every nuance of rhythm and dynamics. Both the second and fourth movements of the cantata were adapted by Bach from his ‘Hunt’ Cantata, BWV 208. The first of these movements is the celebrated soprano aria, ‘Mein gläubiges Herze’. Soloist Lisa Larsson conveys appropriately breathless joy. However, the extremely fleet tempo chosen by Gardiner may disconcert some listeners. This performance is a very different conception from, say, those by Edith Mathis (for Karl Richter) or the incomparable Agnes Giebel (for Fritz Werner) and it’s noteworthy that both of those performances last for over four minutes whereas Gardiner whips through the piece in 2:55. Miss Larsson’s singing isn’t anything like as full-toned as the other two ladies I’ve mentioned and, in fairness, I don’t think the tempo gives her the chance to be. The player of the obbligato violincello piccolo also sounds somewhat pressed. The other movement taken from the ‘Hunt’ Cantata is the bass aria. Bach gives his singer an accompaniment of no less than three gambolling oboes and a bassoon and I find the effect irresistible. The strong and energetic closing chorus is an exciting affair with a cornetto and three sackbuts doubling the choral parts.

The final cantata in what is a slightly short programme is Ich liebe den Höchsten von ganzem Gemüte, BWV 174. The opening sinfonia is a memorable expansion of the first movement of the third Brandenburg Concerto. The expansion is to the scoring: Bach adds highly important parts for pairs of horns and oboes to the original string band and, in Gardiner’s memorable phrase unleashes a "living bombardment of instrumental sounds." Even longer than the sinfonia is the alto aria from which the cantata takes its title. This is an outstanding aria and it’s sung radiantly and expressively by Nathalie Stutzmann. I had reservations about Gardiner’s pacing of ‘Mein gläubiges Herze’ but that’s not the case here. I feel he adopts an ideal tempo for this heavenly aria. It flows with a beautiful inevitability, with two intertwining oboes enhancing the vocal line. The concluding chorale uses the same music that Bach used for the final chorale of St. John Passion and it makes for a very satisfying conclusion to another fine disc.

As this series unfolds I have come to value increasingly the Sunday-by-Sunday presentation. Not only does this seem to me to afford the most logical way to order an intégrale of the cantatas, but also it allows one to appreciate the way in which Bach responded in different ways at different stages in his career to the same liturgical and scriptural themes. That, in itself, I am finding to be an enriching experience.

The Pilgrim’s sojourn in Long Melford was another highly successful artistic enterprise. This pair of discs has given me enormous pleasure. The very high standards of performance, presentation and recorded sound that were set in earlier releases has been maintained and I strongly recommend this latest addition to what is fast becoming a very important and distinguished cycle of the cantatas.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

This compilation from The Sixteen brings together some of the finest works written for, and in celebration of, monarchs and the kingdom. From Turges in the 1400s to Britten in the 20th  century, whether for magnificent state occasions or private devotion, the Kings and Queens of Great Britain have inspired and patronized some of our finest and most enduring music.