BACH Trauer-Music, BWV 244a • Andrew Parrott, cond; Emily van Evera (sop); Clare Wilkinson (ms); Charles Daniels (ten); Tom Meglioranza (bar); Taverner Consort & Players • AVIE AV2241 (78:40 Text and Translation)


Anyone wishing to perform the funeral music for Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen, Bach’s onetime boss, comes up against a serious technical problem:There is no music for it, though the text survives. Doing something about such situations is the very stuff of much modern musicology. Consider the new movements for the music of Mahler, Elgar, Britten, even whole new music (in the style of or, perhaps, not: Manfred Tojahn’s for La clemenza di Tito or Luciano Berio’s for Turandot ). The arguments for this sort of thing are well worn but are still making the rounds: The composer did this sort of thing himself, the composer would have wanted this piece finished, it gives us a new view of this or that period, approach, style of the composer, and so on without any end in sight. Bach is an especial victim of this sort of carpentry, and BWV 244a is a tempting target, along with the St. Mark and St. Luke Passions.


When he compiled the Bach Werke-Verzeichnis in 1950, Wolfgang Schmieder noted that a good deal of Picander’s 1728 text fit certain numbers of the 1725 St. Matthew Passion (which is why it shares the same BWV number) and the 1727 Trauer-Ode (BWV 198). In what I assume will be the notes for this recording, Andrew Parrott makes clear what fits where, leaving only the problem of the recitatives, which he composed himself and about which he himself says “caveat emptor,” and the final organization of the whole, which he posits took place in four sections instead of what seems to be only two or three, and began the night before with the funeral itself, followed the next day with the memorial service. This necessitates a rearrangement of the libretto as printed, which he argues may not have represented exactly what happened.


To the question of why we need this reconstruction Parrott gives no direct answer, but, as the longest of the known remaining texts for which there is no music, it clearly constitutes a challenge. He also thinks it refreshing to encounter some of this music in a different context. It must be said, then, that Parrott meets this challenge with his customary energy and expertise.


This performance is made with the kind of disposition Parrott has used for decades, and argued forcefully for in The Essential Bach Choir (2001), mostly one-to-a-part, with the choruses doubled here. While this approach seems reasonable for the church cantatas, I think it entirely unlikely for the passions, the Trauer-Ode , and this piece, music that required the greatest possible effect, not least in the choruses. Interestingly, as with the Trauer-Ode and the secular cantatas, but not with the Passions, there are no chorales.


Let it be noted, then, that, within his musicological choices, Parrott has made a convincing job of this piece. The Taverner Consort plays with long-won expertise, and the soloists are uniformly good. The eight-member chorus just does not have enough gravity, and the sopranos tend to be a bit shrill in places. When it joins the tenor in two numbers, they are recorded distantly, though on their own quite close up, as is most of the recording. As near as I can tell, there is no other recording of an attempted reconstruction of this music. No matter; if one is needed, this one will do nicely.


FANFARE: Alan Swanson

E. T. A. HOFFMANN Mass in d, AV 18. Miserere in b?, AV 42 • Rupert Huber, cond; Sibylla Rubens, Jutta Böhnert (sop); Rebecca Martin (mez); Thomas Cooley (ten); York Felix Speer (bs); WDR Radio Ch; WDR SO • CPO 777832 (62:01 Text and Translation)

Butcher, baker, candlestick maker? Well, not exactly, but it wouldn’t be off the mark to call E. T. A. Hoffmann (1776–1822) a polymath, for he was one of Germany’s greatest early Romantic writers of fantasy fiction and horror tales, a lawyer and a jurist, a draftsman and a caricaturist, and a music critic and serious writer on the art of music and its aesthetics. And, oh yes, by the way, did I mention that in his spare time he was a composer? His output includes a symphony, several stage works, a handful of piano sonatas, a piano trio, a harp quintet, and of course, the concerted choral-orchestral Mass and Miserere on this disc.

Hoffmann’s literary works are commonly cited as the inspiration for Schumann’s Kreisleriana and Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann, but less often noted is that Hoffmann’s novella The Nutcracker and the Mouse King was the basis for Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, and that Léo Delibes’s ballet Coppélia is also based on stories by Hoffmann.

Hoffmann’s literary works had more of an influence on 19th-century composers and the Romantic movement than his musical compositions did, for his abilities as a composer were judged to be more modest than his talent for the written word. Add to that his relatively small output, and it’s hardly surprising that there’s not a lot of E. T. A. Hoffmann’s music on disc. In light of this, what’s perhaps surprising is that this is at least the third recording of the Miserere I’m aware of. A performance on Koch-Schwann/Music Sacra with a different conductor and cast of vocal soloists, but the same chorus and, I believe, the same orchestra was reviewed by David Johnson in 12:4. And yet another recording, also on Koch Schwann, but this time with an entirely different cast of singers, players, and conductor—Rolf Beck, leading the Southwest German Vocal Ensemble and the Concerto Bamberg—was released in 1997, 10 years later.

Johnson was mightily impressed by the Miserere, calling it “a work of genuine, even astonishing power and beauty,” an assessment with which I wholly concur. The piece wasn’t published in Hoffmann’s lifetime, and the exact date of composition isn’t given. It can be deduced, however, that Hoffmann had to have completed it towards the end of 1806 or the beginning of 1807, for the work was to have been performed at the ceremonies earlier in 1806 when Archduke Ferdinand of Austria became the Grand Duke of Würzburg, but the score wasn’t ready in time. It didn’t receive its first performance until Good Friday, 1809.

It’s important to keep in mind when listening to this masterful piece of choral/orchestral writing that its date of composition coincides with that of Beethoven’s C-Major Mass, op. 86. Yet if I had to make a comparison to Hoffmann’s Miserere, it wouldn’t be to Beethoven’s chronologically contemporary Mass, but to a work of 17 or so years earlier, Mozart’s Requiem. Whether Hoffmann was consciously imitating the musical style of that work or not, it’s impossible to say, but the similarities are striking.

Listen to the sighs in the strings just seconds into the opening movement, and tell me you don’t expect to hear the mournful entry of the basset horns. Or tell me there isn’t a resemblance between the Miserere’s “Ecce enim in veritatem” and the Offertorium of the Requiem in the Süssmayer completion.

Understand that in no way am I diminishing Hoffmann’s effort. His Miserere is a gorgeous work, and there’s much in it that postdates Mozart stylistically, specifically the vocal solos, which tend to be more ornate and less liturgical sounding than what Mozart would have considered proper for a sacred setting of such a solemn text, and also in the more symphonic scoring and treatment of the orchestral parts. But as noted by Johnson, Hoffmann additionally takes great pains to fully demonstrate his contrapuntal skills, composing “grand choral double fugues that Bach, himself, could have found no fault with.”

However you hear Hoffmann’s Miserere—whether as an echo of Mozart, a sympathetic vibration with Beethoven, or a precursor to Verdi—it doesn’t matter, as long as you hear it, because it’s a stunning work, which really ought to spark a reassessment of E. T. A. Hoffmann’s output in general.

The Mass in D Minor is a little earlier than the Miserere, dating from between 1803 and 1805, but it’s composed on an equally grand scale. The solemn introductory measures followed by a running fugue is reminiscent of the type of Baroque overture one hears at the beginning of Handel’s Messiah, and simultaneously anticipatory of the overture to Mendelssohn’s Elijah.

As in the Miserere, Mozart looms large over major portions of the Mass. Listen, for example, to the Kyrie, which once again reverberates with recollections of Mozart’s Requiem. But now Haydn takes a bow in the joyful Gloria. Yet through it all, a new Romantic spirit infuses Hoffmann’s work. It’s not as daring as Beethoven’s adventures of the same timeframe, but then whose were?

One thing that deserves some criticism, in my opinion, is Hoffmann’s over-reliance on fugue. At first, one marvels at his aptitude for counterpoint, but when a fugue appears in practically every movement, not only does one begin to wonder if Hoffmann isn’t short on arrows in his quiver, but the recurring fugal textures begin to become a bit tiresome. Remember Saint-Saëns’s dictum: “A fugue is a piece where the voices come in and the audience goes out one at a time.”

Koch-Schwann seems to have taken more than a passing interest in E. T. A. Hoffmann back in the 1990s, for in addition to the above-cited recordings of the Miserere, the label also released a recording of this Mass in 1999, featuring the chorus and orchestra of the Capella Cracoviensis, led by Roland Bader. Unfortunately, I haven’t heard that one either, so I have no basis for comparing different versions of the works on this disc. CPO, however, rarely disappoints in its releases, and the soloists, chorus, and orchestra heard in these performances sound secure in execution and thoroughly engaged in the moment of the music. The recording, too, is excellent—open, spacious, bright, and detailed, without any reverb to muddy the singers’ diction. Very strongly recommended.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Includes christmas carol(s) by various composers.

Classical Music

Classical Music

This set includes 3 CDs and 1 DVD.



RACHMANINOFF Vespers . Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom 1 & • Georgi Robev, cond; Miroslav Popsavov, cond; 1 Bulgarian Natl Ch; Sofia Orthodox Ch 1 • CAPRICCIO 7010 (3 CDs: 173:21)


& DVD, “Mystery of the East” (75:00)


This Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom was hailed as the longest version on records (18:6, where I misspelled the conductor’s name) and the Vigil (Vespers) was warmly received when new (20:1), so this makes a valuable coupling. The Liturgy has been offered in varying lengths because the litanies are repetitive but often abbreviated. The recently reissued Martin Best version (32:4) offered as much as could be fitted onto one CD. Popsavov, like Polyansky (16:6), Milkov (16:6), Kocsis (19:6), and Bruffy (20:4), requires two discs in order to extend the litanies and the Cherubic Hymn, which are drastically (some would say mercifully) abbreviated in the single-disc versions. Yet here Popsavov is 12 to 20 minutes longer than any of the other two-disc versions, so it is the logical choice if you want more than Best offers. Another reason to go for this one is the rich Slavic voices of the choir, so satisfying in this music. Best’s choir was as good as the non-Slavic choirs get, but this is extraordinary.


Robev’s Vespers was rated right next to the classic Sveshnikov version, high praise indeed. Like the Liturgy , it was issued without texts or translations, and it had the minor fault of titling the work “Russian Easter Vesper Mass,” both Easter and Mass being incorrect terms. In a box that costs little more than one full-priced single CD, it is no surprise that the texts are still lacking. If you are unfamiliar with the Orthodox liturgy, this is a serious lack, but if you can supply for the lack of texts, this has a claim on your attention for the extended length of the Divine Liturgy.


The DVD included here arrived more recently as a separate issue but never received a review. The two sections of the program were made in Tomsk (Siberia) and Sofia (Bulgaria) in May 2002, but the notes, which are abridged from the original booklet, write only about Tomsk. The city was built in 1604 and the monastery of Our Lady and St. Alexei was built at once. The city also has the tomb of Tsar Alexander I, who, after his reputed death in 1825, is widely believed to have lived in Tomsk as Feodor Kusmich. He died in 1864 (the Britannica of 1911 called him Fomich and gave his date of death incorrectly as 1870) and was canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church in 1984. The documentary 45-minute segment on Easter at Tomsk is narrated with a generic background of liturgical singing, while the 30-minute concert in Sofia (Hristov, Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, Kedrov) has the camera moving from the choir to the church interiors in familiar fashion. The Tomsk segment is expertly done, giving a real understanding of life in a Siberian city where the Orthodox faith appears to be strong. At the price, this is quite a generous offering.


FANFARE: J. F. Weber

Classical Music

BOLCOM: Songs of Innocence and of Experience

Handel' oratorio Israel in Egypt was written three years before the Messiah and, like the Messiah, is somewhat atypical of the composer' oratorios. Scored for double chorus and an orchestra using trombones, trumpets, timpani, woodwinds and strings.

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From Sea to Sea' is an a cappella song cycle made up of thirteen musical settings of celebrated Canadian poems. In composing this work, I have selected one poem per province/territory of Canada - each poem written by a writer native to the region - and have set this text to music. Featured poets include such highly regarded and award-winning poets as Gwendolyn MacEwen, Lucy Maud Montgomery, Robert Service, and Shane Koyczan. I have received permission and endorsement from all poets and/or their legal estates. These pieces explore the range and versatility of the human voice and cover a wide range of musical genres ranging from contemporary classical choral, to lively folk melodies - from driving bebop vocalese, to minimalistic soundscapes.

This volume heralds the beginning of the most substantial and ambitious compositional exercise in Bach’s career: an annual series of cantatas in which the composer planned that every Sunday in the church calendar would be identified, textually and musically, by the appropriate chorale for the season. Bach’s second annual cycle – or Jahrgang 2 – was never completed but it contains around 40 chorale cantatas in which, most notably, the first stanza of the chorale is presented variously as an intricate fantasia on the chosen hymn, proclaimed with stirring fervour, usually by the sopranos. While Bach sought new compositional challenges here, he also knew that his boys at St Thomas’s would cope better with familiar chorale-based material than the highly complex choruses which characterise the earlier cycle.

Suzuki’s approach to these cantatas is not strictly chronological as has often been the case. He starts with the first piece in the cycle, the splendid O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort (No 20), which Bach performed on the first Sunday of Trinity (June 11, 1724) but jumps a week by missing out No 2 (with its strikingly austere stilo antico opening movement) and goes for No 7, and then chooses No 94 from a few weeks later. None of this has much bearing on the performances except that this formula seems to juxtapose deftly the wide range of forms used by Bach. The extended and graphic description of Christ’s baptism in Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam (No 7), articulated by two concertante violin parts, is contrasted with the dazzling French overture of No 20. If the playing in the former is somewhat prosaic, Suzuki gives the majestic opening movement of O Ewigkeit such apt propulsion in the bass line that one only intermittently yearns for the more secularised elegance of Herreweghe.

It seems curious that two performances of No 20, released so closely, should employ the same tenor and bass soloists in Jan Kobow and Peter Kooy. Suzuki’s approach with both singers is rather more rhetorical than Herreweghe, who tends to irradiate the music for its own sake, enhanced by the cultivated strings of Collegium Vocale. Both have something interesting to say but Suzuki connects language and music with greater depth of sentiment.

As exemplary a work is Was frag ich nach der Welt (No 94), a substantial cantata whose librettist clearly worked in close collaboration with Bach, ensuring that each stanza of the chorale could be presented with disarming invention. The work is as eager to provide telling dramatic imagery as it is to ruminate on the transience of life and Mammon’s vanity. Bach makes instant demands on his virtuoso flute player who, judging by the number of obbligato parts from this period, was no slouch. It is a marvellous, fresh and abiding testament to Bach’s increasing obsession with unified and economical means. Suzuki realises its quizzical turns and relishes the enriching set-pieces.

Pieter Jan Leusink and Ton Koopman’s readings are full of character and ruddy energy (in the case of Koopman and the Amsterdammers, particularly distinguished instrumental performances) but neither can boast Robin Blaze’s commentary on our deluded world, Betorte Welt. All told, another success chalked up for this continually impressive Bach series.

Jonathan Freeman-Attwood, Gramophone [5/2004]

The Koelner Akademie under the conductor Michael Alexander Willens presents a compelling interpretation of the Christmas Oratorio by Johann Wilhelm Hertel. The former “Court and Chapel Composer” at the court of Duke Friedrich von Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Hertel composed this cantata between 1777 and 1783 for its sacred concerts. The oratorio came across well and in the introduction by Franziska Seils to the score published by the ortus musikverlag, we read: “Along with the harmonically highly expressive opening chorus and the simply set chorales on familiar melodies from Christmas songs, the angelic proclamation radiating in trumpet splendor and the fully dimensioned, eight-part concluding chorus certainly also contributed to the popularity of the work […] areas of influence interact in Hertel’s Christmas cantata: the tradition of the popular lyrical pastoral idyll and the dramatic oratorio, the baroque philosophy of the emotions and the will to symphonic design.”

Each new volume of J.S. Bach's church cantatas continues to attract accolades from the musical press. The excellence of the Bach Collegium Japan led by their inspirational director Masaaki Suzuki and with a line-up of some of the best and most experienced vocal soloists are know entities. Everyone is pretty much in agreement: the cantatas have been entrusted to the best possible interpreters who take endless pains in preparing the recordings and still manage to convey the frisson of a live performance. Perhaps what makes these recordings so special is the fact that the listener is constantly astounded at the quality of the music itself. We still nourish a romantic view of genius and think of a musical masterpiece as the product of a great and painful labour. Yet Bach produced a whole succession of masterpieces, week after week, in order to fulfil his obligations as Cantor of the Thomas Church in Leipzig. The present disc is a fine example of Bach's development of the Church Cantata. The three cantatas are for 'ordinary' Sundays in the liturgical year - 11th, 13th and 16th Sundays after Trinity. They were written in Bach's second year as Thomas cantor in 1724. And they excellently demonstrate Bach's desire to make use of the post-Reformation hymnbook in his liturgical works. Whereas the earlier cantatas had been based on the gospel of the day on which they were to be sung, Bach now began to concentrate on illuminating various familiar hymns - possibly in an attempt to involve the congregation more closely in the service. This is the 24th volume of our cycle of Bach cantatas. It seems almost as though the recordings have an addictive quality for demand continues to increase! The present volume is in the best traditions of the series, featuring Cantata veterans Yukari Nonoshita, Robin Blaze, Gerd Türk, Peter Kooij and a wealth of striking music. Another must from the Bach Collegium Japan and BIS..

This collection of music from the Eton Choirbook, the vast collection of English sacred music from the Early Renaissance, is the fourth in an acclaimed seris. Stephen Darlington and The Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford lead the series, receiving countless awards and acclaim. The music on this release was firmly rooted in the daily life of the college, appreciated by all who attending and worshiped there.

With this installment of music from the Eton Choirbook, the Choir of Christ Church Cathedral sets out to rival The Sixteen’s five-volume anthology. Already it seems to me that they surpass it technically – which is remarkable considering the inevitable changes of personnel that time imposes on a choir with boy trebles – and interpretatively.

–Gramophone

Stunningly effective singing, with insightful and precise direction by Stephen Darlington. A ground-breaking achievement.

– Early Music Review

CPO’s annual tradition of releasing freshly produced alternatives to Bach's Christmas Oratorio during the fall season when Christmas is just around the corner continues with this release of three cantatas by the Bach pupil Johann Agricola (1720-74). + After receiving instruction in composition from Bach, Agricola became a chamber musician and court composer under King Frederick II and later Prussian court chapel master following Carl Graun's death. + His compositions, mainly oratorios, cantatas, songs, and operas, display influence from composers such as Hasse and Graun.

Classical Music

TELEMANN Lukas Passion • Hermann Max, cond; Veronika Winter (sop); Anne Bierwirth (alt); Julian Podger (ten); Clemens Heidrich, Matthias Vieweg (bs); Rhenish Kantorei; Das Kleine Konzert • CPO 777 601-2 (2 CDs: 91:32 Text and Translation) Live: Magdeburg 3/13/2010


The incredibly prolific Georg Philipp Telemann (1681–1767) is known to have composed no fewer than 46 oratorio passions, of which 22 are still extant. Among those, the St. Luke Passion presented here dates from 1748 and is the 27th in order of date of composition, matching the 27 years that the composer had served to that point as music director of the city’s five principal Lutheran churches. Since most of the lost (or at least undiscovered) passions are from the earlier years, this is by default one of the earliest known examples of his art in this genre, despite being more than halfway through the total and composed at age 67. Although by that time Telemann had long incorporated various foreign influences, particularly the French galant , into his “mixed” compositional style, here at least he adheres somewhat more to a traditional Germanic musical vocabulary, even if the melodic and rhythmic contours (particularly the use of skipping dotted eighth figures) are more closely akin to Handel than to Bach. The overall musical structure, however, is closer to that of a Bach passion, though there are significant differences. For Telemann the chorus plays a considerably smaller role, with the chorales being fewer and more modest in scope. Instead, the soloists assume a greater share of the commentary beyond their arias in sections titled accompagnato ; these are extended dramatic declamatory passages with intermittent instrumental accompaniment, penned in irregularly rhymed and metered verse, more melodic than straightforward recitative passages but lacking the formal symmetry and development of regular arias.


The addition of any Telemann oratorio to the relatively few so far recorded is an occasion for rejoicing, and all the more so when it involves the redoubtable Hermann Max and his veteran vocal and choral ensembles, the Rhenish Kantorei and Kleine Konzert. Recorded here in concert at the annual Magdeburg Telemann Festival, he and they deliver performances according to their customary superlative degree of excellence, leaving nothing to be desired on their part. I am somewhat less enthusiastic about the soloists, who are solid but not distinguished. Both Clemens Heidrich as Jesus and Matthias Vieweg as soloist for the bass arias have rather light and somewhat dry baritonal voices; the tenor of Julian Podger is a bit grainy; alto Anne Bierwirth simply does not have a distinctive profile; and even the usually first-rate Veronika Winter is not quite at her best. None are bad or even unsatisfactory, but they are definitely a step down from the stellar solo quartet Max assembled almost 20 years prior for the set of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach cantatas reviewed by me elsewhere in this issue. The recorded acoustic has a rich and slightly reverberant ambience, and not a whisper of noise from the audience is to be heard. Booklet notes are provided in German, English, and French, and the libretto in German and English; unfortunately the librettist is not identified, let alone discussed. One also wishes that either the short timing for a full-priced two-CD set had been fleshed out with another of Telemann’s sacred choral works, or else that the cost had been discounted. Despite this complaint, and the minor caveats about the soloists, this release is unhesitatingly recommended to all fellow lovers of Baroque sacred music.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

Classical Music

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Classical Music

Here is an unusual military band CD. The 37 selections are divided into Marches by the US Marine Band and the US Army Band, Americana by the US Navy Band and Sea Chanters chorus, the USAF Band and Singing Sergeants and the US Army Band and Chorus, Family, Ceremonial where the US Coast Guard Band is added and finally a section called Bugle Calls where all the famous calls are recorded including Reveille, First Call, Assembly, Attention, Tattoo and Taps. The Marches include all the most popular ones, while Americana includes The Liberty Fanfare, Amazing Grace, God Bless the USA and America the Beautiful, among others. The section called Ceremonial includes everything from the National Anthem to the US Public Health Service March.

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This album, performed by the Danish National Choirs, under the direction of Michael Schonwandt, Phillip Faber and Susanne Wendt, features 25 choral arrangements of the most popular pieces by Carl Nielsen (1865-1931). Featured among the 25 tracks are popular works such as "Den danske sang er en ung, blond pige" and "Solen er sa rod, mor", alongside lesser-known pieces such as his proposal for a new Danish national anthem. The Danish National Vocal Ensemble is made up of 18 full-time professional vocalists. Since their 2007 debut, the ensemble has tackled all styles of music, from Baroque, to Romantic, to modern. The ensemble was recently awarded the Diapason d’Or for a recent release.

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REVIEW:

Performances throughout are excellent. The variety offered by the different types of choir is part of the pleasure of the music, but even within choirs of similar type, there is considerable variety.

– MusicWeb International