The "Bach Pilgrimage" of conductor John Eliot Gardiner, with his English Baroque Soloists and Monteverdi Choir, was among a most ambitious musical project: a concert tour devoted to Bach's complete church cantatas, played on historical instruments, matched to the liturgical year in something like real time, and passing through the cities where Bach lived and worked but also stopping in churches in other countries. This recording of Christmas cantatas was made at St. Bartholomew's Church in New York at the end of the precisionists' millennium (in late December 2000). The recordings are designated as live; they actually represent final dress rehearsals rather than concert performances (no coughing this way), but they do have the feel of performances in a live setting. The cover art of this album is striking: a picture of a baby with a dirt-streaked face, wrapped in a tattered blanket over a wool cap. The photo comes from Tibet; the baby is the child of nomadic farmers. The image nicely encapsulates the virtues of Gardiner's entire series, which is second to none in immediacy of impact and engagement with Bach's reaction to the texts. A standout here is Selig ist der Mann, BWV 57 (Blessed is the man), one of those Bach soprano-bass duets representing a dialogue between the soul (the soprano) and Jesus Christ (the bass). The soloists on Gardiner's set are generally not powerhouse singers like those on some of the competing sets, but he often elicits uncannily deep performances from them. Sample the arias by soprano Joanne Lunn in this cantata (track 16, for example). The language is purely operatic: "I would desire to die, to die, if Thou, my Jesus, didst not love me. Yea, if thou wert still to sadden me, I would suffer more than the pain of hell." (The translations here, and elsewhere in Gardiner's series, are annoyingly archaic and really at odds with the aims of the whole project; the German language of Bach's Lutheranism was meant to address congregations in a direct, personal way, not to cow them with archaisms.) But Gardiner and Lunn craft a form of address that is passionate without being operatic. As she answers Jesus' sober pronouncements, a performance of exceptional delicacy and power unfolds. The other cantatas are equally distinctive, and, as Gardiner points out in his wonderfully personal and always readable notes, "Bach has many ways of celebrating the Christmas season in music." The opening Sehet, welch eine Liebe hat uns der Vater erzeiget, BWV 64 (See what kind of love the Father has shown us), is triumphalist and dense, with a splendidly transparent performance of the thorny opening chorus; Süßer Trost, mein Jesus kommt, BWV 151 (Sweet consolation, my Jesus comes), is quietly pastoral; Ich freue mich in dir, BWV 133 (I rejoice in you), is joyful and sunny. This collection of Christmas cantatas makes a fine capstone for a collection of any size of Gardiner's remarkable recordings. © TiVo

Aside from the gargantuan logistical problems of moving a chamber orchestra, chorus, soloists, and conductor, plus recording equipment with engineers and producers every week, the aesthetic challenges of John Eliot Gardiner's Bach cantata pilgrimage must have been colossal. Imagine: every week the musicians had to prepare and present three or more cantatas in performances that would bear repeated listenings at home. And yet Gardiner and his forces seem to have succeeded every time. In the two-disc volume 25 of the series, Gardiner includes three cantatas for the fifth Sunday after Easter and three for the Sunday after Ascension Day, and, as always before, they succeed in not only performing the works with smooth professionalism but also ardent enthusiasm. Take just In allen meinen Taten, BWV 97. Its nine movements are wonderfully varied in tone and setting, but also totally unified through musical means. Gardiner and his forces capture both the variety and the unity of the work. Bass Stephen Loges' melancholy aria "Es kan mir nichts" with obbligato bassoon, tenor Steven Davislim's jaunty aria "Ich trause" with virtuoso solo violin, alto Robin Tyson's haunting recitative Er wolle meiner Sünden, and soprano Katharine Fuge's joyous aria "Ihm hab ich mich ergeben" with a pair of obbligato oboes all form part of an organic whole here. Recorded in vivid sound, these performances will be mandatory listening for anyone who reveres Bach's cantatas. © TiVo

Here’s a repertoire that everybody knows about yet is completely neglected: the Bach cantatas. Granted a few have gained some importance, mostly thanks to the vocal qualities of singers who have seized it for a few decades – Fischer-Dieskau and Elly Ameling to name a few – while some complete works adorn aficionados’ collections. There is however enough content in these cantatas to “make up” about a dozen Passions or Oratorios on par with some of those we already know. Bach himself didn’t refrain from drawing from them to recycle arias, ensembles, choirs and sinfonias. Among some of the most famous, honoured in the 1950s by Fischer-Dieskau, are two cantatas for baritone: Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen (1726) and Ich habe genug (1727), both written with oboe and string accompaniment. It’s precisely with this roster in mind that the Freiburger Barockorchester serves Matthias Goerne, a disciple of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf and… Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, him again! The German baritone, a regular on the world’s most prestigious scenes, doesn’t refrain from lending his immense voice to this almost-chamber music by giving it a character far removed from the lyrical style required by Berg, Wagner or Strauss. In addition, still with the oboe in mind, the recording includes the Concerto in A Major for Oboe d'amore BWV1055R, a modern reconstruction from a keyboard concerto in A major, which there is every reason to believe was itself recycled by Bach from an older concerto for oboe d'amore. The remarkable Katharina Arfken plays the oboe for the cantatas and the oboe d’amore for the concerto. © SM/Qobuz

For the benefit of any Qobuz readers who might be offended that the Bach cantata Ich habe genug is sung here by a counter-tenor in the soprano register (rather than the normal bass), we want to point out two things: first, in the baroque era, music would be rewritten at the drop of a hat to fit the musicians who were available at a given time; and, secondly, this particular transposition was made by the Cantor himself! And what's more, he actually thoroughly revised two works... The short cantata Schlage doch, gewünschte Stunde was for a long time attributed to Bach before credit was finally given to its author Melchior Hoffmann: but it is testament to the work's tremendous quality that the mix-up was possible: its originality certainly gives the listener pause for thought. For one thing, the aria contains a glockenspiel section! Counter-tenor Bejun Mehta continues his exploration of the world of the baroque cantata with the superb Pianti, sospiri e dimandar mercede by Vivaldi, which brims over with invention and harmonic and melodic surprises. Handel's cantatas, on the other hand, were more directly written for amateur audiences, and therefore somewhat easier musically: whereas Bach never had to worry about selling his scores, Handel was very much preoccupied by sales! Berlin's Akademie für alte Musik provides a fervent accompaniment, and without a conductor, as they know this music like the back of their hands. © SM/Qobuz

With this set of 12 cantatas, a few of them quite short, Dutch historical-instrument conductor Ton Koopman approaches the end of his monumental traversal of the complete Bach cantata corpus. The cantatas here mostly date from the last two decades of Bach's life. By this time Bach had cantatas from earlier cycles ready for most occasions pertaining to the liturgical year. Several of the works here were written for special occasions -- weddings in at least two cases. The orchestration for the most part is large and varied, with several pieces including trumpets and tympani; the Cantata No. 195, "Dem Gerechten muß das Licht," BWV 195, features a dazzling array of strings, oboe, oboe d'amore, transverse flutes, horns, trumpets, bassoon, timpani, and continuo. The result is that these pieces play to the strengths of Koopman's interpretations: the warm, flawless blend of the Amsterdam Baroque Choir and the sharp differentiation of the instruments within what remains a big, festive sound overall. The famous cantata in this group is the Cantata No. 140, "Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme," BWV 140, with its "Sleepers Awake" chorale and its lovely variations on a pastoral theme. Sample the opening chorus (CD 2, track 1) for an idea of what you can expect in the various large choruses in the lesser-known cantatas in the set: each has its nice textural touches, and not a one gets lost in Koopman's expert interpretation. Hear the "Welt, ade, ich bin dein müde" (World, goodbye, I am tired of you) movement of the Cantata No. 158, "Der Friede sei mit dir," BWV 158, for an example of Koopman at his best: this odd combination of a bass aria with mantra-like interjections of the chorale from the choir's sopranos would throw a lesser conductor. The soloists in this set are also unusually effective. Soprano Sandrine Piau's voice is unhampered by the high pitch Koopman employs, and her soaring lyricism makes an effective foil for the unusual, rather English horn-like timbre of the alto of Bogna Bartosz. There is something a bit cool in Koopman's readings; for deep humanistic insights into Bach's music, the evolving cantata set by John Eliot Gardiner may be preferable. But in the public, festive music heard here, this lion of the historical-performance movement is hard to beat. © TiVo

Recorded live at Pisa Cathedral in 2016, this recording of Bach's St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244, is of a piece with the touring Bach Cantata Pilgrimage recordings released in the early 2000s: it is rich yet lively, sung with precision yet a total sense of commitment in the moment. The singers -- the Monteverdi Choir of 30 with soloists all drawn from the choir, except for Jesus (Stephan Loges) and the Evangelist (James Gilchrist) -- performed from memory, and the feeling that the text is being communicated directly is even greater than is usual with Gardiner. An unusual feature of the recording is that the soloists are not single per part; the soprano solos are taken by no fewer than five different singers. Several (try Hannah Morrison in "Aus liebe") are lovely, and the effect of a space between the congregational chorales and the focus on an individual soloist is fascinating. The hair-trigger alertness of the chorus in the big numbers like "Sind Blitze, sind Donner in Wolken verschwunden?" is also extremely compelling. Gardiner and the Monteverdi Choir offer Bach with the luxury of old-fashioned Romantic versions combined with the agility of historical performance, and they've never done the combination better than they do here. © TiVo

“A great joy”: this is how Masaaki Suzuki considers this, his second recording of the St. Matthew’s Passion, made twenty years after the first one, in the Saitama Arts Theatre in Japan in April 2019 for the BIS label. A great opportunity to revisit the work, as in the elapsed time, the conductor and his orchestra have nearly completely recorded Bach’s choral music, including the complete masses and secular and sacred cantatas. As is his custom, Suzuki works with European soloists for this new recording, like the splendid young German tenor Benjamin Bruns, playing the stupendous part of the Evangelist. There are other familiar soloists that feature here, such as Carolyn Sampson, Damien Guillon, Makoto Sakurada and Christian Immler. There is nothing monumental about this new intimate and refined version, which follows the fateful narrative with great sobriety. There is nevertheless a fervent level of impulse, as well as a certain innocence within this resolutely pared back Lutheran perspective - there is never any real search for theatricality. The exceptional instrumental quality of the soloists of the Bach Collegium Japan and the soft touches of the two choral ensembles is also worth highlighting. © François Hudry / Qobuz

In 1991, Philippe Herreweghe and La Chapelle Royale recorded three Bach cantatas on the themes of suffering and death – death viewed as a kindly comforter. The soloist was the prodigious bass Peter Kooy, a longstanding partner of the ensemble and a key figure in its magnificent survey of Bach’s cantatas, motets and Passions. A major milestone in the discography. © harmonia mundi

Those wondering whether Himmelsmusik falls on the experimental side of the output of Austrian-born ensemble leader and continuo player Christina Pluhar and her ensemble L'Arpeggiata can rest easy: there is nothing here in the vein of Pluhar's aptly titled Handel Gone Wild. Instead, Pluhar, countertenor Philippe Jaroussky, and her musicians play it straight and deliver a lovely album from the generally neglected German mid-Baroque, and from almost unknown music within that classification. Not all the music pertains to heaven, as the title might suggest; other topics (such as the Christ child) appear, but all the pieces have a calm, worshipful flavor. Pluhar's focus is the music between Schütz and Bach, with both of those composers added at the end to sum up the territory that has been covered. A major presence is French countertenor Philippe Jaroussky, who certainly can attract bigger clients; his participation is a clue to the music's worth. Some of the composers have direct connections with one or the other (Johann Theile was one of Schütz's last and best students, and the J.C. Bach on the program is not Johann Christian Bach or even Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach, but the Arnstadt composer and organist Johann Christoph Bach, Johann Sebastian's first cousin once removed, some of whose later works were for a time accepted as J.S.'s own. Generally speaking, the vocal pieces are solo vocal "concertos" or arias that experiment with the Schütz model, finding new ways to express the texts as dramatic utterances. Sample Franz Tunder's Ein kleines Kindelein, with its substantial introduction and then its text that pours out in a single thought. The composers were aided in their quest by new developments in Italian instrumental music, some of which is included. Tunder shows up on organ programs, but the likes of Crato Bütner, Philipp Heinrich Erlebach, and Johann Rudolf Ahle will be unfamiliar even to Baroque enthusiasts. The music of some was mostly destroyed during World War II; others worked in obscure or distant courts and never made it into the history books. Pluhar's effort at reconstruction is impressive, and Jaroussky is an ideal collaborator; their music-making can be enjoyed by anyone. A deep dive of the very best kind.© TiVo

What is it about volume 26 of John Eliot Gardiner's cycle of the complete Bach cantatas that makes it special? Is it the works? All seven cantatas on this two-disc set have their individual beauties, but the last -- Ich liebe den Höchsten von ganzem Gemüte, BWV 174 -- starts with a magnificent Sinfonia based on the opening movement of the Third Brandenburg Concerto, only with oboes, horns, and organ, and thus has the added benefit of instant recognition. Is it the performances? As always, Gardiner obtains a bright tone and a robust performance from the English Baroque Soloists and the Monteverdi Choir, an approach that brings out the best in these seven mostly celebratory works. Or is it the sometimes out-of-tune singing and the occasionally out-of-tune playing? Most of the soloists are fine -- particularly cheerful soprano Lisa Larsson and chesty alto Nathalie Stutzmann -- and some are excellent -- especially soulful tenor Christoph Genz -- but they, along with the choir, do sometimes slip out of tune. And while most of the playing is first rate -- check out the clarity of the strings and the taste of the continuo -- there are moments when the strings or the winds slid out of tune. Still, since these are all live performances recorded with amazing clarity and presence at Holy Trinity Church in Long Melford in June 2000, these flaws are fairly insignificant compared with the performances' many strengths, and anyone who has enjoyed Gardiner's joyful and direct approach to Bach's cantatas will surely enjoy volume 26. © TiVo