Most of Westerhoff's works today are found in the Burgsteinfurt Music Collection. It was here that Kloecker years ago unearthed a clarinet concerto that he no longer had the opportunity to record for CPO. Now he himself has passed the torch (or in this case the clarinet) on to the young ARD prizewinner Sebastian Manz.

A very curious story surrounds this operetta that celebrated its premiere in New York in 1924, became a colossal success, was penned by an American composer born as Sigmund Rosenberg in Imperial and Royal Austria, and evokes glorious boyhood and student days in Biedermeier Heidelberg. The Student Prince by Sigmund Romberg was so popular that Hollywood filmed it not once but twice: in 1927 as a silent film by Ernst Lubitsch and in 1954 as a sound film. Like the later musical The Sound of Music, The Student Prince created an ideal vision of Old Europe as an American stage fantasy. Sigmund Romberg's musical significance rests on the fact that it was he who brought the European operetta – and especially the Viennese operetta – to Broadway during the first half of the twentieth century, successfully Americanized it, and offered decisive compositional and dramaturgical impulses to the musical then taking shape as an independent American art form. The great American conductor John Mauceri has lent his devoted support to the rediscovery of this original musical gem.

-----

REVIEW:

This is a spirited performance. Mauceri is a doyen of musical theatre and the potpourri overture immediately reveals that the Cologne WDR Funkhaus Orchestra has just the style required for this chocolate-coated score. A mostly German cast is assembled; and while most of their diction is comprehensible, CPO misses a trick by not including the libretto in the booklet. I couldn’t help feeling I was missing out on some clever rhymes.

Dominik Wortig’s baritonal tenor—not unlike a youthful Thomas Hampson—makes for a noble Karl-Franz and he sings the famous Serenade ‘Overhead the moon is beaming’ with winning charm. Anja Petersen occasionally has to squeeze out the high notes as Kathie but does a sterling job. The recording includes hardly any dialogue, and Romberg keeps the tunes coming, a certain amount of recycling ensuring they become familiar as the work progresses. The supporting cast is solid.

– Gramophone

BEN-HAIM Symphony No. 1. Fanfare to Israel. Symphonic Metamorphoses on Bach’s Chorale “Wer nun den lieben Gott lasst walten” • Israel Yinon, cond; NDR RPO Hannover • CPO 777417 (57:37)


I don’t believe Israel honors any of its composers with the title “laureate,” as it does its poets, but Paul Ben-Haim (1897–1984) did win the Israel Prize for music in 1957. Born Paul Frankenburger in Munich, he emigrated in 1933 to what was then still the British Mandate of Palestine, escaping Germany before the worst of what was to happen there. Prior to that, he had served as assistant conductor to both Hans Knappertsbusch and Bruno Walter in the early 1920s. After moving to Palestine, he took the name Ben-Haim, which in Hebrew means “son of life,” and became an Israeli citizen in 1948 when the nation gained its independence.


Though basically cast in a late-Romantic style, Ben-Haim’s music—which some have compared to that of a slightly more modern Ernest Bloch—is colored by Middle Eastern influences of a generic nature and, more specifically, by ancient Jewish motifs and the contemporary songs and dances of Israel’s kibbutzim workers during the early years of the fledgling state.


These influences may be heard in Ben-Haim’s First Symphony, as, for example, in the second movement, which quotes a traditional Persian Jewish song, I Will Lift Up My Eyes unto the Hills, from Psalm 121. The symphony, in three movements, was completed in 1940. Its first movement is a powerful Allegro energico filled with what sounds like a good deal of anger—the composer admitted he was not unaffected by contemporary events unfolding in Germany and France—but also music of deep lament.


I tried to place it in reference to other works written around this time, but I had a hard time doing so. There are certain aspects of its orchestration and elements of its harmonic dissonance and rhythmic agitation that remind me a bit of some roughly contemporaneous works written by American composers, such as the Hungarian-born George Barati, or perhaps David Diamond. But in the end, Ben-Haim’s music is his own, and this is a profoundly moving score with an elegiac slow movement marked Molto calmo e cantabile, and a whirlwind tarantella finale reminiscent of the last movement of Mendelssohn’s “Italian” Symphony, except dark and evil. This spider is a venomous black widow, at least until the final chord when its poison is drained away by a major triad cadence.


Fanfare to Israel is an occasional piece written in 1950 for the Israel Defense Forces brass band. Its marchlike, festive atmosphere at a time of national confidence and upbeat mood led Ben-Haim to arrange the piece for full orchestra. Following the example of Ravel’s Bolero , the work is a constantly recurring melody that builds steadily in power.


The Symphonic Metamorphoses , written in 1968, is Ben-Haim’s tribute to Bach, whom he considered history’s greatest composer. The theme, “Wer nun den lieben Gott lasst walten,” is taken from its already ornamented version found in the Orgelbüchlein for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. Ben-Haim subjects the chorale to three main metamorphic variations based on Baroque forms—passacaglia, capriccio, and ricercare. Interspersed among them are two recitatives, while the entire work is bookended by the chorale statement at the beginning and a coda at the end. The work is continuous—i.e., one section flows into the next without necessarily calling attention to itself—but what Ben-Haim creates, in effect, is a Baroque suite, albeit one that is derived entirely from the opening chorale, while giving the impression of being through-composed.


Being of considerably later date than either the symphony or the fanfare, the Symphonic Metamorphoses is somewhat more modernistic in its musical vocabulary and, I would have to say, not as immediately accessible as the earlier works. But after listening to it three times, it definitely began to gel, and I became aware of passages as arresting and moving as any in the symphony.


It’s doubtful that these works are new to disc, but currently I find none others listed. As always, cpo can be counted on to come through with superb recordings of little-known repertoire, and the company has done so again with really well-performed readings of these scores by the North German Radio Philharmonic Orchestra of Hannover, led by Israel Yinon. Very strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

KLUGHARDT Violin Concerto. Symphony No. 3 • Golo Berg, cond; Mirjam Tschopp (vn); Anhalt P • CPO 777 465-2 (77:51)


Tired of listening to the Schumann symphonies? Not interested in still another newfangled maestro’s take on the Brahms symphonies? Find Spohr’s boring? Weber’s too bland? Bruckner’s too long? August Klughardt’s Third may be just your cup of tea. Likewise the Violin Concerto, custom-made for listeners who need a break from the Mendelssohn, Bruch, and Wieniawski examples.


Klughardt (1847–1902) retains a toehold in the classical record catalog almost solely on the basis of a woodwind quintet, and even that is not often heard. Now comes a significant addition to his tiny discography, two major orchestral works splendidly played, recorded in a vivid acoustic environment, and conducted with great verve and panache. In fact, these performances are so good they might well be even better than the music itself.


The opening seconds of the first track (the Violin Concerto) grab your attention equally for the attractiveness of the theme, the assertiveness of the playing, and the bright, natural acoustic environment. The 40-minute concerto, composed in 1895, is packed to the hilt with sumptuous melodies (the first movement’s second subject will melt your heart, and there’s one in the finale that brings to mind swaying palm trees and island breezes). It is hard to imagine any listener resisting this fine work, while soloists in search of a new concerto to add to their repertoire will find Klughardt’s eminently rewarding.


Swiss-born violinist Mirjam Tschopp certainly plays it as if she does, in a performance imbued with commitment, technical flair, and earnest musicianship. Here is still another extremely talented violinist with much to say to the world, yet I’ve never encountered her before. Curious to know what else this outstanding musician has recorded, I checked what there might be on ArkivMusic. My search turned up just two items from the past 11 years, both by composers even more obscure than Klughardt (Barry Brenesal warmly praised her account of Saygun’s Violin Concerto in Fanfare 29:2).


The Third Symphony, too, will bring much joy to listeners in search of traditional, four-movement Romantic symphonies, this one composed in 1879. Its key of D Major (like the Violin Concerto) almost guarantees that it is going to be an affirmative, joyful work, and that it certainly is. Its opening may bring to mind the opening of the finale of Brahms’s Second Symphony. The historian Hermann Kretzschmar described the third movement as being “like a merry ballad telling of olden times, of the mighty deeds of knights and heroes, of tournaments and courtly quests, of escapades and adventures.” If this begins to sound like Bruckner’s Fourth, you’re not far off, at least in spirit.


The Anhalt Philharmonic of Dessau is a first-class ensemble with a long history (the extensive bio traces its origins back to the mid 18th century). Conductor Golo Berg ensures clean, crisp rhythms, forward drive without force, and fine balance, resulting in performances of almost irresistible attractiveness. Ronald Müller’s fine program notes tell you everything you always wanted to know about Klughardt’s Violin Concerto and Third Symphony. This disc is definitely headed for my year-end Want List.


FANFARE: Robert Markow

Martín Palmeri's tango mass is inspired by his native Argentina's traditional tango and in particular by Astor Piazzolla's tango nuevo. Piazzolla developed a "new tango" intended no longer as dance music but for the concert stage; by incorporating contemporary forms and musical developments it gave rise to a complex genre of art music. The Misa a Buenos Aires premiered by the Orquesta Sinfónica de Cuba in 1996 demonstrates Palmeri's impressive and equally entertaining talent for integrating stylistic features of the tango into his compositions. The textual basis of the work is the classical Catholic Ordinary of the Mass as it has been set to music for centuries. The scoring for mezzo-soprano, mixed choir, tango quartet, and string orchestra remains close to the authentic ensembles of the tango orchestras of Palmeri's native country. Here what is above all exciting is how imaginatively he employs the playing resources of the instruments. Typical techniques of the tango, this rhythmically emphatic dance in which the melody instruments are also used percussively to give impulses, play an important role here. The outstanding employment of the bandoneón, sometimes as a singing voice, then again as a rhythm instrument, here guarantees the preservation of the "tango soul." Melodic leading, harmony, and the rhythmic structures are also recognizable as tango stylistic means to non-experts. It is with great melodic imaginative richness that Palmeri blends the various tone colors of the tango with the various characteristics of the individual parts of the mass. The Gloria, premiered in 2014, a good eighteen years after the tango mass, is of somewhat greater complexity – both in compositional technique and in harmony – and leaves behind the pleasant tone of the mass. In all of its parts, however, here too the melodic and emotional expressive variety remains. Here European tradition and the tango are brought together in a finely crafted and compelling manner.

FASCH Overtures: in F, FWV K F3; in A, FWV K A2. Sinfonias: in A, FWV M A2; in G, FWV M G4. Concertos: in F, FWV L F2; in D, FWV L D22 • Ludger Rémy, cond; Les Amis de Philippe (period instruments) • cpo 777 424 (76:40)


Johann Friedrich Fasch (1688–1758) was the third wheel, if you will, of the late German Baroque tricycle, its other two wheels of course being Telemann and J. S. Bach. Of the three, however, Fasch soon became a footnote to music history, but not for a lack of talent or industry. Quite to the contrary: his catalog of works is extensive—at least four operas, somewhere in the neighborhood of 75 sacred cantatas, numerous masses, motets, psalm settings, a Passion, nearly 100 suites, some 75 concertos, 24 sinfonias, and 36 or more trio sonatas and quartets for various combinations of instruments. And he was regarded in his time as an innovator who made important contributions to the early development of the Classical symphony. So what happened? It’s hard to say. It didn’t help matters that not a single score by Fasch was printed in his lifetime; this, even though his close ties to the Dresden court orchestra and its concertmaster, Johann Pisendale, did for that ensemble what Johann Stamitz’s association with the Mannheim orchestra would do for that institution just a few years later.


Though Fasch’s permanent base of operations was Zerbst, much of his music is known to have been composed for the Darmstadt and Dresden court orchestras; in fact, all of the works on this disc, believed to have been written between 1730 and 1755, are identified as “Dresden Sinfonias and Concertos.” The distinction between them, insofar as titling is concerned, is a bit difficult to pin down. All but one follow the three-movement layout of the Italian sinfonia; but it seems that Fasch had his own ideas about musical nomenclature and applied them fairly liberally. Thus, the two works in this collection that carry a title of “overture” are of a hybrid nature. They are not sinfonias in the Italian manner, for even though they are in three movements, their first movements are overtures in the French style—i.e., a slow, dotted-rhythm introduction, followed by a fast fugal section, and a concluding return to the opening material. In this, they are similar to the opening movements of Bach’s orchestral overtures (suites), but there the similarities end, for they are not followed, as they are in Bach’s suites, by a sequence of dance movements, but rather by a moderately paced air and a concluding Allegro movement. The odd piece out in this collection, at least in terms of movements, is the Sinfonia in G Major, which takes the four-movement form of an early Classical symphony, but is still rooted in a Baroque style.


The two concertos are a delight. Fasch seemed to have had a special ear for exploiting the sonorities of diverse wind instruments, even more effectively, I think, than did Telemann in his many similarly scored works.


Needless to say, these are period-instruments performances, but not of the sort I’ve railed against loudly and often enough in these pages. No, these are among the best I’ve heard, distinguished by crisp, alert, refined, and disciplined playing, pitch perfect intonation, and a balance and integrity of ensemble that one hears in the very best of modern-instrument chamber orchestras. For once, I was able to listen without fear of the next squeak, squawk, or sour note that might be lying in wait in the next measure. But more than the technical polish and finesse of this superb group are the high spirits and pure joy that Ludger Rémy and Les Amis de Philippe bring to Fasch’s scores. Music-making, in its finest sense, is what happens when the players are masters of their instruments and no longer have to worry about such mundane things as playing the right notes at the right time.


This is my first encounter with this ensemble, but they have recorded, among other things, concertos by C. P. E. Bach and Manfredini, and have received plaudits in these pages from William H. Youngren, Robert Maxham, and Brian Robins. My name can now be added to that list. Enthusiastically recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Classical Music

On their latest CD, the Linos Ensemble offer new discoveries and rewarding additions to the chamber repertoire: works by Friedrich Kalkbrenner (1785-1849), reputed to be one of the most gifted pianists of his time. + The piano, played here by Konstanze Eickhorst, plays a leading role in both the sextet and septet, and both chamber works in large part offer an enormous wealth of tone colors and manifold opportunities for register shifts. + They are complemented by his fantasy for piano on the Scottish song “We're A' Noddin” (1823), in which he expresses his romantic enthusiasm for Scotland.

One may rightly claim that Johann Baptist Vanhal (1739-1813), who traced his roots to Bohemia, was one of the most productive composers of the 18th c. + He wrote a total of 1,377 (!) works; sixty string quartets having appeared in print through to 1787, with thirty-six others in manuscript or documented in catalogue entries. + Quantity aside, Vanhal quite early gained fame with the quality of his works. + For CPO, the Lotus String Quartet, which gained notice with its triumph at the Int’l Chamber Music Competition in Osaka, Japan in 1994, interprets a selection of these quartets.

This groundbreaking CPO recording features the world-premiere recording of the fragment of a Charles Gounod's third symphony. Conductor Oleg Caetani has the great good fortune of being so closely acquainted with the Gounod family that it's members allowed him to use the manuscript of the third symphony for the recording. The present CD of course also includes Gounod's more familiar two symphonies. "In the end these three symphonies profit from the constant contrast between charm and verve, two special French traits that here blend together in a quite theatrical atmosphere." - Oleg Caetani

Classical Music

Classical Music

PLEYEL Piano Trios: in C, Ben 441; in e, Ben 435; in A, Ben 448; in f, Ben 442 • Trio 1790 (period instruments) • CPO 777544 (71:38)


Born in Lower Austria in 1757, one year after Mozart, Ignaz Pleyel outlived Beethoven by four years, dying in 1831. He thus spanned the entire Classical period. His authenticated works, as cataloged by the late Rita Benton, noted Pleyel scholar and former head of the music library at the University of Iowa, number more than 700, exceeding in count Mozart’s symphonies and very nearly besting in volume Haydn’s string quartets. So popular was Pleyel in his lifetime that his fame spread all the way to Massachusetts, where a Pleyel Society was established in Nantucket. His credentials were sterling: After early study, likely with Johann Baptist Vanhal, Pleyel came under the wing of Haydn, who considered him a more promising—or, shall we say, more malleable?—student than Beethoven.


In 1783, a position in Strasbourg, then under the French flag, beckoned Vanhal to France, where he worked with Franz Xaver Richter at the Strasbourg Cathedral. He was happy there, succeeding Richter as maître de chapelle , marrying a French woman, Françoise-Gabrielle Lefebvre, and changing his first name to the French Ignace. Unfortunately, just about the time his Frenchification was complete, the Revolution broke out, and public concerts as well as musical performances in churches were banned. Undeterred, Pleyel followed in Haydn’s footsteps to London, where he made good money leading the series of Professional Concerts organized by Wilhelm Cramer. This pitted Pleyel against his former teacher, Haydn, who was in London at the same time leading a similar series of concerts organized by Peter Salomon. Still, the two men—Haydn and Pleyel—remained friends in spite of the rivalry. On his return to France, Pleyel ran afoul of the new regime’s functionaries, several times brought up on charges of being a Royalist collaborator. No ideologue, the ever utilitarian Pleyel saved himself from imprisonment or worse by composing works in praise of the new Republic.


After the Reign of Terror (1793–94) subsided and the guillotine stopped falling, Pleyel moved to Paris and set himself up in the music publishing business. In this endeavor, too, he was wildly successful, printing Haydn’s complete string quartets and countless scores by almost all of the leading composers of the day, including Beethoven. After that, a man of lesser energy and ambition would have been satisfied to hang it up, but not Pleyel. In 1807, at the age of 50, he ventured into the business of piano manufacturing, producing some of the best instruments of the day. Chopin played Pleyel pianos and performed his first and last concert in the Salle Pleyel. In 1815, Pleyel’s son, Camille, joined the business and continued to run the company after his father’s death. By 1834, the firm had grown to employ 250 workers.


Reading this story of Pleyel’s life, one would have the impression that the man was a reincarnation of King Midas; everything he touched turned to gold. But like the legendary Midas, whose food and drink also hardened into the precious but inedible metal, Pleyel’s music also became ossified and indigestible to future generations. The “why” becomes clear in listening to these trios, and that is not a comment on the performances.


Pleyel may only have been in his mid- to late-30s when he turned his attention to the piano trio medium in the 1790s, but Mozart was already dead and had left behind five masterpieces in the genre. Moreover, the last of Haydn’s piano trios and the first three of Beethoven’s were being written at exactly the same time as Pleyel’s, and the latter’s could only suffer in comparison. According to the booklet note, the great music scholar of the time, Charles Burney, observed that “Pleyel’s fancy, thought at first so fertile, is not so inexhaustible, but that he frequently repeats himself, and does not sufficiently disdain the mixture of common passages with his own elegant ideas.” Burney was too kind. If Boccherini, as it’s been said, was Haydn’s wife, Pleyel was Haydn’s handmaiden.


Hearing the first movement of the C-Major Trio, it’s hard not to laugh out loud; it resembles the soundtrack to a 1950s animated cartoon. The chattering runs of Pleyel’s score rendered by the clattering sounds of Harold Hoeren’s unidentified fortepiano (maybe it’s an original Pleyel?) enhance the comic image to perfection. More seriously, Benton, in her Pleyel catalog, identifies these works not as piano trios, but as trio sonatas for violin, cello, and keyboard. I think the distinction is significant because it suggests that these pieces are throwbacks to a slightly earlier phase of the Classical period, reminiscent perhaps of the fusing of empfindsamer and galant styles one hears in works by C. P. E. Bach, though offhand, I can’t think of anything I’ve heard by Carl Philipp that sounds quite this frivolous and superficial.


We shouldn’t be too surprised, I suppose, at Pleyel’s popularity when we recall that musically unsophisticated audiences at the time found Mozart’s later works difficult. As entertainment music, Pleyel’s piano trios are not without redeeming value. The Trio 1790 makes a specialty of performing mid 18th- to early 19th-century works by C. P. E. and J. C. Bach, Koželuch, Dussek, and others; the ensemble has just concluded its complete Haydn piano trios project. My reference to Harold Hoeren’s clattering fortepiano was not a swipe at the playing on this disc, which is excellent throughout. Pleyel’s piano trios may be little more than plant food, but the Trio 1790 is guaranteed to make your ficus flourish. Recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

BACH (attr.) THE SACRED APOCRYPHAL BACH • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Alsfelder Vocal Ens; various performers • CPO 777 878-2 (8 CDs: 432: 03 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) Cantatas, BWV 217–222 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Johanna Koslowsky (sop); Kai Wessel (alt); Harry Geraerts (ten); Phillip Langshaw (bs); Alsfelder Vocal Ens; Steintor Barock Bremen • CPO 999 139-2 (2 CDs: 101:27 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) Motets, BWV Anh. 159, 160, 162–165 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Alsfelder Vocal Ens • CPO 999 235-2 (55:27 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) St. Luke Passion, BWV 246 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Rufus Müller ( Evangelist ); Stephan Schreckenberger ( Jesus ); Mona Spägele (sop); Christiane Iven (alt); Harry van Berne (ten); Marcus Sandmann (bs); Alsfelder Vocal Ens; Barockorchester Bremen • CPO 999 293-2 (2 CDs: 106:17 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) Masses, BWV Anh. 25 and 26. Magnificat, BWV Anh. 21 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Dorothee Mields (sop); Henning Voss (alt); Henning Kaiser (ten); Ralf Grobe (bs); Alsfelder Vocal Ens; I Febiarmonici • CPO 999 834-2 (51:47 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) Cantatas, BWV 15, 141, 142, 160 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Dorothee Mields (sop); Henning Voss (alt); Henning Kaiser (ten); Ralf Grobe (bs); Alsfelder Vocal Ens; I Febiarmonici • CPO 999 985-2 (58:48 Text and Translation)


BACH (attr.) Cantata, BWV 150. Magnificat, BWV Anh. 30. Masses, BWV Anh. 24 and 167. Sanctus, BWV 237, 239, and 240 • Wolfgang Helbich, cond; Bremen Musikhochschule Solo Qrt; Gesualdo Consort Amsterdam; Alsfelder Vocal Ens; Hannover Hofkapelle • CPO 777 561-2 (58:17 Text and Translation)


Conductor Wolfgang Helbich died of a stroke on his 70th birthday, on April 8, 2013. Here, CPO has assembled (by simple virtue of an outer cardboard box around the original separate releases) the six sets of eight CDs comprising Helbich’s project of recording vocal works once attributed to Bach but now (with two exceptions) generally considered to be spurious or dubious, or now definitely known to be by another composer. The dates of the recordings span 1991 to 2009 and are listed above in their original order of release. Three of them were previously reviewed in these pages: the two-CD set of cantatas by George Chien in 16:2, the St. Luke Passion by Ralph V. Lucano in 21:1, and the second disc of masses and mass movements by yours truly in 36:2. All of those performances were highly praised, and that praise is equally applicable to the other three discs in the series as well.


Given the detailed coverage given to three of the releases, I will confine myself here to an overview of the set as a whole, with a few specific comments on the three discs not previously covered. First, a scorecard of current attributions, if any, of the various compositions, in order of the sets listed above and using their front tray card titles:




Apocryphal Bach Cantatas:


BWV 217, 220, and 221—Anonymous


BWV 218 and 219—Georg Philipp Telemann


BWV 222—Johann Ernst Bach (1722–1777)


Apocryphal Bach Motets:


BWV Anh. 159—authentic J. S. Bach


BWV Anh. 160—Georg Philipp Telemann, portions reworked by Bach


BWV Anh. 162—Georg Gottfried Wagner (1698–1756)


BWV Anh. 163—Bach “di Eisenach”—unknown; possibly Johann Ernst Bach?


BWV Anh. 164—Johann Christoph Altnickol (1719/20–1759)


BWV Anh. 165—Johann Ernst Bach


Apocryphal St. Luke Passion:


BWV 246, Anh. II 30—unknown; possibly Johann Melchior Molter (1696–1765)


Apocryphal Bach Masses (and Magnificat):


BWV Anh. 21 (Magnificat)—Georg Melchior Hoffmann (c. 1679–1715)


BWV Anh. 25—unknown; Italianate in style, probably by a Neapolitan composer


BWV Anh. 26—Francesco Durante (1684–1755), revised by Bach


Apocryphal Bach Cantatas II:


BWV 15—Johann Ludwig Bach (1677–1731)


BWV 141 and BWV 160—Georg Philipp Telemann


BWV 142—unknown; possibly Johann Kuhnau (1660–1722)


Apocryphal Bach Masses II:


BWV 150 (Cantata)—authentic J. S. Bach


BWV Anh. 24 (Mass)—Johann Christoph Pez (1664–1716)


BWV Anh. 167 (Mass)—unknown


BWV Anh. 30 (Magnificat)—unknown


BWV 237, 239, and 240 (Sanctus movements)—unknown


Second, a few remarks on the three previously unreviewed discs. The unaccompanied motets all set German texts; the most substantial in terms of length are BWV Anh. 160 and BWV Anh. 163. For the latter, the suggestion of Johann Ernst Bach (the son of a second cousin of J. S. Bach) as the most likely of the Eisenach Bach clan to be the work’s author is mine, on the grounds that he personally studied with J. S. Bach, who copied out two other works by him listed above, including another motet. The one apocryphal motet that sounds most like an authentic piece by J. S. Bach, however, is BWV Anh. 164 of Johann Christoff Altnickol, a son-in-law of J. S. Bach who served as organist at the Wenzelkirche in Naumburg until his untimely death. Georg Gottfried Wagner was a pupil of J. S. Bach and of Bach’s predecessor in Leipzig, Johann Kuhnau. Like Altnickol, he obtained a lifetime appointment on the strength of a recommendation from his teacher, in Wagner’s case as Kantor to the Johanniskirche in Plauen. Only one other composition of his besides this motet is known to have survived.


Regarding the two apocryphal masses, it beggars belief that anyone would have thought either one to be by Bach given how obviously Italian they are in compositional style, though in the case of BWV Anh. 26 Bach did make some emendations to the score, particularly in the Kyrie. Francesco Durante was a Neapolitan composer of sacred music and a noted pedagogue (particularly notorious for his insistence that all his students rigidly adhere to a single unvarying set of compositional rules) who successively taught at the Conservatorio di Sant’ Onofrio and the Conservatorio di Santa Maria di Loreto. For his part, Georg Melchior Hoffmann studied first in Dresden and then in Leipzig, where he succeeded Telemann as director of the famed Collegium Musicum which J. S. Bach also would later head. During his short life-span he was both quite prolific and highly regarded. As with the apocryphal motets, his Magnificat lies squarely within the stylistic confines of the late German Baroque. As for the second disc of apocryphal cantatas, Johann Ludwig Bach was an uncle of J. S. Bach. Both the BWV 15 cantata now attributed to him, and the BWV 142 that is possibly by Bach’s Leipzig predecessor Kuhnau, exemplify the less elaborate compositional style of the generation before Bach, whereas the works by Telemann bear all the hallmarks of that composer’s sophisticated and more eclectic musical palette.


Each set within this compilation has its own booklet with CPO’s usual copious notes, artist biographies, and complete original texts with English translations. Aside from being a posthumous tribute to Helbich, however, one must also wonder if the issuance of this set also signals the end of CPO’s Apocryphal Bach project. One hopes that is not the case, for there still remain some items to be covered that could all fit onto one or two CDs. Using the Teldec Complete Bach Edition that I reviewed in 36:2 as a guide, still eligible for inclusion in this series are:


- Cantatas BWV 53 and 189 (both composed by Georg Melchior Hoffmann);


- Cantata fragments BWV 216, 223, and 224;


- Motet BWV 231 (a contrafactum of the second movement of the Cantata BWV 28, presumed to be by another hand);


- Miscellaneous fragments BWV 1081 (an introduction to a Credo by Giovanni Battista Bassani), 1082 (an adaptation of a Magnificat by Antonio Caldara), 1083 (a transcription of a Stabat mater by Giovanni Pergolesi), and 1088 (a bass arioso contributed by Bach to a Passion pastiche, the majority of it composed by Carl Heinrich Graun but also including movements by Telemann, Kuhnau, and Altnickol).


In any case, this entire set deserves a warm recommendation, which I am happy to provide.

FANFARE: James A. Altena

E. EICHNER Harp Concertos: in C, op. 6/1; in D, op. 9. J. T. EICHNER Harp Concertos: in G, op. 5/1; in D, op. 5/2 • Silke Aichhorn (hp); Stefan Fraas, cond; Kurpfälz CO • CPO 777 8352 (79:23)


Ernst Eichner (1740–1777) was born 16 years before Mozart and lived just slightly longer than Mozart’s 36 years. His two main posts were at Zweibrücken (near Saarbrücken, on the border with France) and Potsdam. In his time he was highly praised by many of his peers, and his music, the symphonies in particular, was widely performed. In addition to his 31 symphonies (Michael Carter favorably reviewed four of them in Fanfare 33:3), Eichner wrote much chamber musi—yet, surprisingly, nothing it seems for the instrument on which he excelled, the bassoon. Ernst Eichner, while hardly a household name today, is represented in most music dictionaries and encyclopedias. The “other” Eichner here, Jean Théophile, is so obscure that we don’t even know his birth and death dates.


All four concertos on this disc could easily be part of an anthology entitled The Age of Elegance . They are eminently pleasing—balm to harried lifestyles and troubled souls, designed to brighten your day. I don’t mean to sound condescending. The music makes no pretensions to be anything but entertaining or diverting. Harpists will probably send me hate mail for saying this, but these concertos would make the perfect background music for a summer garden party or a formal reception at an embassy. However, they are also worthy enough to stand on their own, especially in the superb performances we find here. German harpist Silke Aichhorn, with 19 other recordings on her own label, has carved a considerable solo career for herself, and deservedly so, for her artistry is both tasteful and commanding. The orchestral playing is immaculate. Stefan Fraas conducts with infectious charm and stylish grace. The acoustic ambiance is extraordinary—beautifully balanced, warm and full yet transparent, intimate yet airy and spacious.


The Kurpfälz Chamber Orchestra of Mannheim looks to consist, from its photo in the inlay booklet, of but a dozen strings, yet its sound suggests a considerably larger ensemble. Supplemented by pairs of flutes and horns, the textures are almost symphonic in the tutti passages. Every one of the 12 movements provides its own pleasures. Fast outer movements are energetic without being forceful, inner slow movements gleam with grace and lyricism. The slow movement of op. 6/1 is for harp alone. The slow movement of op. 5/1, the only one in a minor key, offers a moment of melting beauty. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Markow