CANTATAS FOR BASS • Harry van der Kamp (bs); Period Instrument Ens • SONY SK 68264 (75:39 Text and Translation)


Selections by ROSENMÜLLER, J. Christoph BACH, BUXTEHUDE, WECKMANN, SCHÜTZ, TUNDER, BRUHNS


Harry van der Kamp has made dozens of recordings, most notably of the sacred works of Bach; but so far as I can discover, this disc, originally released in 1996 and now in print as an ArkivMusic reissue, is the only solo recital album he has ever made. As the renowned Dutch bass reaches his 65th year, it is appropriate to recognize and honor one of the very greatest singers of Renaissance and Baroque repertoire ever to grace vinyl and silver discs. Even if this were not an anniversary year, however, this disc would merit inclusion in the Classical Hall of Fame as one of the finest vocal recital albums ever produced.


First, there is the remarkable voice itself. It is quite full-bodied and resonant, despite a general absence of vibrato (employed only occasionally at climaxes, and then in a very light and subtle manner). The timbre is silken-smooth, free of graveliness even in its sepulchral low notes; there is no register break, with a seamless flow from bottom to top, and no hint of strain at either end of the spectrum. Both treacherous leaps of unusual intervals and florid runs of triplets and 16th notes are dispatched effortlessly. Diction is exemplary for its clarity. Second, there are the profoundly penetrating and subtle intelligence and artistry that van der Kamp applies to every note. He is a master of musical understatement, able to make telling points with the slightest inflection of volume, tone color, and phrasing. In repertoire where word-painting is all-important, he has few rivals and no superiors.


In line with the dark hues of the bass voice, most of the sacred arias recorded here—those of Heinrich Schütz, Johann Rosenmüller, Johann Christoph Bach, and Nicholas Bruhns—are works of lamentation or imprecation. The exceptions are the two celebratory pieces of Dietrich Buxtehude, the gently pastoral and lyrical Salve coelestis pater of Franz Tunder, and the unusually florid Kommet her zu mir alle of Matthias Weckmann, the one item here that clearly follows models from the Italian rather than German Baroque. Listening to these works is a salutary reminder of how seemingly still musical waters can in fact run very deep. Operas from the High Baroque onward have accustomed us to listen for emotional expressiveness in overtly theatrical gestures—ecstatic abandonment, martial triumphalism, violent rage, lachrymose sorrow. Here is music that instead explores and evokes profound joy and sorrow with a noble dignity and gravity that, in its courtly restraint, is not one whit less powerful.


As an expositor in this musical mode, van der Kamp is unsurpassed. For example, Buxtehude’s Mein Herz ist bereit expresses solemn exaltation with extraordinary lightness and transparency. Even more astonishing is the Fili mi, Absalom of Schütz, which I unhesitatingly consider to be the greatest freestanding sacred aria ever written. The grief of King David at the loss of his rebellious son is a truly regal lament of stunning, even shattering, power, with the alternately ascending and descending solo bass line both punctuated and supported by a dolorously sonorous quartet of trombones. The work has rightly been often recorded, but no one else on CD matches van der Kamp. (The only other version that does rival him was recorded back in 1969 by Wilhelm Pommerien, with an instrumental ensemble led by Helmut Rilling, as part of two LPs of selected movements from Books 1 and 2 of the Symphoniae Sacrae— more treasures of the old Nonesuch catalog that cry out for reissue on CD.)


The unnamed period-instrument ensemble has 19 members, playing in various combinations upon violin, viola da gamba, cello, cornett, trumpet, sackbut, and trombone, with bassoon, violone, chitarrone, harp, and organ providing the continuo accompaniment as needed; one of the cornett players is the famed early-music conductor Roland Wilson. No ensemble leader is named—I suspect it is either van der Kamp himself, or else Wilson—but everyone plays exquisitely. The recorded sound is forward (the soloist is rather closely miked) and somewhat resonant. Full texts are included in German, English, and French, and also in Latin when that rather than German is the original language. This disc is an indispensable part of any collection of sacred Baroque music, and has my highest possible recommendation.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. The vocal texts are printed in Latin and Japanese.***

After studying at the University of Leipzig and spending several years as an organist at the city's Nikolai Church, the Saxon musician Johann Rosenmuller had to abruptly leave his position around 1655 for reasons less than honorable. He eventually found his way to Venice, where he worked at St. Mark's Basilica and the renowned Ospedale della Pieta. Among the many musical "souvenirs" he later brought back from the South was a new church style, infused with a vibrant colorfulness previously unknown in the more austere musical traditions of the North. It's no wonder that worshippers felt as if they were hearing angelic choirs and left the sacred concerts with their faith renewed. This�musica coelestis�continues to capture pure hearts and inspire a better life, even 340 years after the great composer's death.

Classical Music