Another splendid disc in this important series.

This disc contains the very final concert, the fifty-ninth, of Sir John Eliot Gardiner’s Bach Cantata Pilgrimage. This was the last of three concerts given in New York to conclude the Pilgrimage. We’ve already had one disc devoted to Christmas cantatas, performed on Christmas Day itself (see review), and its companion, recorded at a concert given just two days later (see review). Now here’s the final Christmas instalment.

It must have been quite an emotional occasion for the Pilgrims, knowing that this was the end of their journey – a journey of discovery and celebration. Gardiner makes that clear in his notes, but even if he had not done so anyone who has followed the series to date would have guessed as much from the comments that various performers have made in their own recollections, printed in earlier booklets.

The concert begins not with a cantata but with a motet, Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied, BWV 225.This was a most intelligent piece of programming since the concert was to close with the cantata that bears the same title. The motet begins with infectious joyfulness – Sir John refers to the “joyous, spirited singing” – but the Monteverdi Choir is no less alive to more reflective moments in Bach’s piece. This means that the central section is marvellously poised. In the outer stretches of the work, however, they provide singing of superb clarity, full tone and rhythmic vivaciousness.

BWV 152 contrasts very strongly with the motet. This is a work from Bach’s Weimar period and it is scored for very modest forces indeed. A solo soprano and a bass are accompanied by just six instrumentalists – recorder, oboe, viola d’amore, viola da gamba and a continuo, comprising cello and organ. Alfred Dürr suggests, in his definitive study of the cantatas, that perhaps, after the other musical demands made on the Weimar musicians during the Christmas period, Bach had very limited forces available to him and made a virtue of necessity in his scoring. The result is a wonderfully intimate creation, which is sung delightfully by Gillian Keith and Peter Harvey.

Harvey, one of the rocks of this whole series, is in fine voice. Gillian Keith also excels, especially in the sublime aria, ‘Stein der über alle Schätze’. Here the recorder and viola d’amore intertwine sinuously in support of her touching singing. This is a wonderfully delicate movement and the fragility of the music contrasts pointedly with the much more emphatic bass recitatives that are placed on either side of it. There’s no concluding chorale. Instead the cantata ends with a dialogue between the Soul (soprano) and Jesus (bass), which is very well done here. This wasn’t a cantata with which I was very familiar so I’m particularly delighted to find it in such an excellent performance.

Next we hear BWV 122, a Leipzig piece. This is based on an old hymn, dating from 1597, which would have been familiar to the Leipzig congregations. Peter Harvey has a challenging aria, which, predictably, he puts across very well. I like Katharine Fuge’s lovely, pure tone in the following recitative and then she and James Gilchrist combine most effectively in a terzetto, in which they’re joined by the altos of the choir, who sing the chorale melody beneath the soloists’ florid lines.

The first two cantatas have been predominantly reflective in tone. Now, however, the decks are cleared for some serious rejoicing, beginning with BWV 28. Against a sprightly accompaniment Joanne Lunn opens the proceedings with what Dürr calls a “joyful, dance-like song of thanksgiving.” This is an engaging, smiling piece of singing; not only is Miss Lunn characterful but she’s also technically assured. There follows a magnificent chorus, which finds the Monteverdi Choir on stunning, incisive form. Gilchrist is at his most expressive in the recitative ‘Gott ist ein Quell’ and then he and Daniel Taylor are terrific in the sprightly duet ‘Gott hat uns im heurigen Jahre gesegnet.’

But you sense that the whole concert has been building up to the performance of BWV 190. This cantata has come down to us with only a fragmentary orchestral score and Gardiner and his colleagues engaged in some well-informed reconstruction. For example, timpani and a trio of trumpets have been added to the opening chorus, to thrilling effect and, as we shall see, there’s an even more inspired piece of re-scoring later on.

The piece opens with a chorus that is nothing less than an outbreak of unbridled rejoicing. On this occasion the music is invested with the sort of vital, virtuoso singing and playing for which Gardiner has become renowned. He and his performers convey a life-enhancing optimism. One senses that everyone was on their toes to provide the Big Finish to the Pilgrimage. The cantus firmus interjections from Luther’s German Te Deum are especially fervent but then so is the whole of this chorus; it’s a really spine tingling performance.

Later comes a duet for tenor and bass soloists, ‘Jesus soll mein alles sein.’ In an inspired piece of scoring, Gardiner allots the obbligato to the viola d’amore. The obbligato part consists largely of “chains of wistful, gestural arabesques bouncing off a silent main beat” (Gardiner). The effect is quite ravishing. One might have feared that the delicate, husky sound of the viola d’amore would be swamped by the singers. However, without holding back, Gilchrist and Harvey sing with such exemplary control and taste that everything fits together beautifully. Gardiner chose to repeat this movement as the second and final encore at the end of the concert and it’s a nice thought that this was the last music to be heard during the Pilgrimage. The thought is all the more poignant since the violist, Katherine McGillvray, died last year aged just thirty-six; the CD is dedicated to her memory.

After this luminous duet comes a tenor recitative. It was the final solo of the concert and, therefore, of the Pilgrimage and it’s fitting that this should have been entrusted to James Gilchrist, since he’s been another mainstay of the whole enterprise. He produces a marvellously weighted, nuanced piece of singing, which typifies the skill and perception of so many of his contributions to the Pilgrimage.

All that remains is the final, affirmative chorale, which, as performed here, seems to be a summation and a salute to the genius of Bach. This performance anticipated by a few hours the New Year for which the cantata was written. As such, it looked back on a year of homage to Bach and celebration of his music in the 250th anniversary year of his death. But the performance also seems to look forward with confidence, perhaps because Gardiner and his team felt inspired and refreshed by their shared and individual experiences during the course of the Pilgrimage. For the Pilgrims this marked journey’s end. For those of us who are reliving their journey through the medium of CD we have many more volumes in prospect. The next instalment is keenly awaited but for now this splendid disc will sustain us.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

These days we have to be reminded that Easter, not Christmas, is the primary festival of the church year. (In Bach’s Leipzig, of course, Good Friday was the most important day of the musical year.) Nevertheless, Christmas was a major celebration at that time and place, with services on Christmas and the next two days, followed by observances on New Year’s day, the first Sunday of the New Year, and Epiphany. Consequently, Bach created considerable music for the season. The present disc, Volume 14 in the series, features two Christmas cantatas, BWV 91 (1724) and 110 (1725), and two cantatas for the day after Christmas, BWV 40 (1723) and 121 (1724).

Cantata 91, from the year of chorale cantatas, imbues Luther’s Christmas hymn, Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ, with a feeling of anticipation and exhilaration unusual even for Bach. Budding excitement in the opening chorus finally erupts in striking syncopations. The final chorale is enhanced by fanfare-like expressions from the brass. Another chorale cantata is BWV 121, based on Christum wir sollen loben schon. It begins with a more subdued choral movement, but a joyful air is introduced by the subsequent tenor aria and reinforced by a jaunty aria for bass. Cantata 40 does not belong to the chorale-cantata cycle, but three of the seven movements after the opening chorale fantasia are straightforward chorale settings. Most resplendent of these four cantatas is No. 110, which opens with a choral re-make of the third movement of the Fourth Orchestral Suite.

Gardiner’s preface again reminds us that the Cantata Pilgrimage was not undertaken as a recording project; the recordings are fortuitous by-products of the Pilgrimage. The concert captured on this disc, which took place in New York City on Christmas Day, 2000, was the third-to-last in the whole enterprise. One might reasonably have excused any evidence of fatigue at that point, but there is none in evidence; rather, the energy generated by the performances is quite extraordinary. For listeners who wish to sample the series before committing themselves to it, this single disc may provide an auspicious starting point. Most enthusiastically recommended.

Incidentally, in reviewing earlier releases from the Pilgrimage, I noted the sterling attendance record of violist Colin Kitching. A letter from Clifford Bartlett of Early Music Review noted that Kitching is the Monteverdi Choir’s librarian. But, alas! He didn’t make it to the Big Apple, so Sir John will be the only person to have participated in every one of the Pilgrimage recordings.

FANFARE: George Chien

John Butt and the Dunedin Consort present the 1610 Vespers in its customary order with no chant additions, accepting the view that this ‘work’ is a collection of sacred pieces deliberately ordered in the general shape of an ‘imaginary’ Vespers service. In other words, the Vespers as most people know it.

The result is a ‘chamber’ version in which clarity of detail and the beauty of individual voices (recorded fairly closely and in many places clearly recognisable) provide an alternative to the grand gestures and bold colours of other more monumental performances. It also allows for plenty of attention to text, not just in the solo motets but in the larger psalm-settings as well.

The sound is first-rate as ever from Linn, with a sampled Italian chest organ discreetly adding warmth and incisiveness. With so many Vespers recordings out there, this one joins the ranks of those with both a character of its own and something to say.

– Gramophone

The small British chorus called the Sixteen and director Harry Christophers have delivered consistently popular recordings of Renaissance and Baroque music, maintaining very high standards of performance. Here they couple two of the most popular Baroque works of all, Vivaldi's Gloria in D major, RV 589, and Bach's Magnificat in D major, BWV 243, and the results are handsome indeed. The tenor of the performances flows from the conceptions of each work that Christophers expresses in one of the little personal essays that appears at the beginning of each booklet in this series: Vivaldi, he said, is "effective," and even operates in places here "at his simplest," while Bach is "complex." Some would use other words first, for each composer -- daring or kinetic for Vivaldi, devotional or a dozen other words for Bach. There are recordings that give Vivaldi in general and the Gloria in particular more of an edge; there are recordings of Bach that seem warmer, or more rooted in the sacred texts. But here, as usual, Christophers, the Sixteen, and the Symphony of Harmony & Invention Baroque orchestra play it straight up the middle and create accessible, appealing recordings using historical instruments. The Magnificat is really superior in the choral sections, with superb articulation of Bach's difficult interlocking runs of sixteenth notes; the building energy of the final three choruses is marvelously rendered, and the opening "Magnificat" is expansive and rich. The Vivaldi is sunny rather than triumphal, with the choir a bit reined in and rounded in tone in the famous opening "Gloria," but all the solos are top-notch, with the "Laudamus te" soprano duet of Lynda Russell and Gillian Fisher an especially lilting standout. The listener has many choices when it comes to recordings of these works, but it's hard to imagine these, the Bach especially, being substantially outdone.

James Manheim, All Music Guide

Sei Solo is Italian for “Six Solos” but also for “You Are Alone”. The dual meaning may indeed have been intentional. When fair-copying his manuscript to the three sonatas and three partitas for solo violin in 1720, Bach had become a widower. The work, with a duration of well over two hours, has a total of 32 movements. The 21st of these is the iconic Ciaccona in D minor with its 32 variations on a chord sequence. The Swedish guitarist Mats Bergström made his debut as a recording artist in 1986 with the Lp “English Guitar Music” for the Polar Music label. Three decades and numerous albums later he felt ready to record his own guitar version of Sei Solo.

2009 3 X CD 250th Anniversary edition of Salomo (Salomon) Oratorium in Drei Akten HWV 67. Rundfunk Sinfonie Orchester Berlin conducted by Heinz Rogner. Performers include Marga Schiml, Eberhard Buchner, Hermann Christian Polster, Regina Werner, Eva Maria Bundschuh, Helga Termer & more.

SDG is delighted to release Volume 12 - Cantatas for the twenty-second and twenty-third Sundays after trinity.

John Eliot Gardiner, The Monteverdi Choir and The English Baroque Soloists performed both of these programmes in England: at All Saints church in Tooting and at Winchester Cathedral, in November 2000.

The soloists include James Gilchrist, Peter Harvey and Joanne Lunn.

The highlight of this album is Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme (“Sleepers, wake”) - one of Bach’s best known cantatas, and one that has long been part of the Monteverdi Choir’s repertoire. It is described as “a cantata without weaknesses, without a dull bar, technically, emotionally and spiritually of the highest order”.

Ich armer Mensch, ich Sündenknecht (“I, wretched man, I slave to sin”) is Bach’s only cantata for solo tenor still in existence. It is sung movingly by James Gilchrist.

Of three cantatas on the parable of the unjust steward (BWV 55, 89, 115), Mache dich, mein Geist, bereit (“Prepare yourself, my soul”) is considered to stand out for its subtle instrumental writing and spellbinding arias, which evoke the yearning of the soul for divine mercy.

The recording in Tooting (CD1) is the only one in the whole series that wasn’t recorded live: the original concert took place in Eton chapel, right under the Heathrow airport flight path, so we had to try and recreate the same conditions in a quieter place.

This album is packaged with a separate index sheet of the Cantata series.

There’s a bit of a problem with the inclusion of the lead item on this disc. BWV 80, Ein feste Burg ist under Gott, is the quintessential chorale cantata, but it wasn’t a part of the second Leipzig cycle (1724–25). The most conclusive evidence indicates that in its present form it was first performed later––perhaps as late as 1731––but that it was derived from a much earlier effort, BWV 80a, composed, perhaps, in 1715. What’s more, most current listeners got to know it in an even later version. Bach’s oldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann, added high trumpet and timpani parts when he used the cantata in Halle, where he served from 1746 to 1764. His additions were so skillfully integrated that they were considered authentic and printed in the first Bach edition. Only recently has Bach’s original version come into fashion. Meanwhile, what took Bach so long to settle on his own version of the score? Consider that he was the most Lutheran of all composers, while Ein feste Burg was Martin Luther’s most characteristic hymn. Perhaps, Bach simply felt obliged to get it right, no matter when. The present release confirms that the elder Bach’s solution, without drums and trumpets, is more than adequately stirring––but one secretly hopes that the weight of scholarship will not cause the younger Bach’s version to disappear completely.

Cantatas 5 and 115 are correctly placed in historical context, having been composed for October and November 1724, respectively. Both exemplify Bach’s chorale cantata concept and demonstrate his endless ingenuity. Cantata 5, retelling the story of Jesus healing a crippled man, traces the path from supplication in the tenor aria (with water from the divine spring bubbling in the background) to triumph in the aria for bass with obbligato slide trumpet (tromba da tiarsi). BWV 115, based on the parable of the unforgiving servant, has a pair of remarkable arias, too––one, for alto, depicting sleep; the other, for soprano, representing prayer.

Maestro Suzuki has added two fine new soloists to his roster, the Swedish soprano, Susanne Rydén and the French countertenor Pascal Bertin. The lower parts are handled by series veterans Gerd Türk and Peter Kooij. As always, the performances, the recording, and the presentation are splendid.

George Chien, FANFARE

Better known now as a hugely influential theorist and codifier of the principles and performance practice of Baroque music, Johann Mattheson (1681-1764) was not just a scholar but a highly accomplished composer. This album of 12 harpsichord suites offers ample evidence of his creative gifts. The suites were published in two volumes in London in 1714. When Handel heard of this publication, he sent for a copy and in his own words, 'without hesitation, played it through': no mean compliment! Doubtless Handel recognized a kindred spirit. Mattheson's own style is genial and fluent, tending towards the more audience-pleasing character of Handel's suites rather than the more rigorous keyboard music of Bach. These suites also have their light-hearted and humorous moments, qualities which characterize many of Telemann's instrumental works: indeed it's notable how free Mattheson's music is from the pedantic and academic character of at least some of his writing. Several suites open with a prelude of showy, toccata-like character before the standard Baroque sequence of dance movements such as vigorous and syncopated gigues and gentle sarabandes. The last three suites are the grandest of the twelve, opening with spacious Overtures or in the case of No.10 a symphony, rejoicing in both counterpoint and a sense of high ceremony. Within the 12th are embedded adaptations of three pieces by Mattheson's contemporary Georg Ludwig Böhm: a stylish example of the borrowing that was common practice at the time.

BACH Goldberg Variations • Sachiko Kato (pn) • CENTAUR CRC3202 (59:15)


When this arrived in the mail, my first reaction was, “Oh no, here we go again; another Goldberg Variations by an artist I’ve never heard of before.” And after being so rattled by my grievous error regarding the matter of repeats in Daniel Pienaar’s recording, I had serious doubts about reviewing another Goldberg Variations ever again. Well, you know what they say about getting right back up on the horse after you’ve been thrown. Had I passed on this assignment out of fear, I’d have missed out on a truly extraordinary experience. For starters, forget that this is a recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations . It’s a disc you should have purely for the velvet smoothness and silken beauty of Sachiko Kato’s tone as captured by the One Soul Studios engineers in New York’s Klavierhaus Hall. This is simply one of the most gorgeous reproductions of piano sound I’ve heard on disc.


Now, of course, this is a recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations , and not being one to be burned twice, I listened to Kato’s performance with undivided attention and followed the score dutifully. Here is what I can tell you. She takes the first-half repeats of each variation, but not the second-half ones. More’s the pity, because in many of the variations’ first halves, she adds some of her own embellishments that tickled me with delight. Kato is an extremely imaginative player, and I would have loved to hear her embellishments in second-half repeats.


Beyond the matter of repeats and her own embellishments, Kato’s readings of the variations are so perfectly realized in terms of tempos, phrasing, and discovery of detail, particularly in the left hand, that one marvels at the utter naturalness and fluency of the music. Notice I said “of the music,” not of Kato’s playing, because she plays with such a sense of effortlessness and ease that it’s as if the piano is having its own joyous conversation with Bach. Listen, for example to the happy mordents and smiling trill-and-mordents in the second half of Variation 5, executed with such perfection that even at Kato’s rapid velocity, not only can you hear the difference between them, your ear can discern the number of squiggles.


I’ve long admired Angela Hewitt, Murray Perahia, András Schiff, and Craig Sheppard in this music, but Sachiko Kato’s performance is truly special, and for piano versions, I think it may now be my favorite. This wonderful Japanese-born, Los Angeles-raised, Juilliard-trained artist has yet to gain much of a presence on record—Amazon, as well as her website, lists only two previous releases, both of modern music, which Kato champions—but she performs extensively throughout the U.S. and Japan. To everyone who embraces Bach’s Goldberg Variations on piano, this deserves to be heard and is urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins