The theme of this year’s Bachfest was “Die wahre Art,” a quote from the title of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s keyboard treatise Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen (1753–62), which can be translated into English as “Essay on the true art (or manner or style) of playing the keyboard.” The organizers of the Bachfest surely intended “die wahre Art” to mean “the True Art” of music, passed from father to sons and pupils. This year, the focus was Johann Sebastian Bach’s second son, C.P.E. Bach, who was born 300 hundred years ago on 8 March 1714. (Full disclosure: I am managing editor of the ongoing critical edition of the complete works of C.P.E. Bach, published by The Packard Humanities Institute).
The opening concert, on Friday, 13 June, at the Thomaskirche, gave us a chance to compare the father and son’s settings of the Magnificat: BWV 243 and Wq 215. Both works have been recorded numerous times, and they are occasionally paired together on discs, but in concert performances or liturgical services only one of the two works is normally given. J.S. Bach probably wrote his first version of the Magnificat (BWV 243a, in E-flat) for Vespers of the Feast of the Visitation of Mary, soon after assuming his post as Thomascantor in Leipzig. His Magnificat was performed frequently and adapted over the years, and by the summer of 1733, he had transposed it to D major (BWV 243) to make it easier for the trumpets to play. C.P.E. Bach’s Magnificat is one of his first and greatest pieces of vocal music, originally composed in the summer of 1749 and first performed in Leipzig before his father’s death in July 1750. This was meant to be an audition piece to succeed his father as Thomascantor, and C.P.E. Bach was obviously trying to one-up his father in his setting.
Both begin with a tutti chorus in D major and the music is reprised near the end of each work (as also in the case of Vivaldi’s Gloria). Where J.S. Bach reuses the music of the opening chorus for the “Sicut erat in principio,” C.P.E. Bach reuses the music of the opening chorus for the “Gloria Patria,” then adds a grand double fugue for the “Sicut erat in principio” and final “Amen.” (This is a complete contrast to the very abrupt ending of J.S. Bach’s setting, with only a single “Amen.”) A couple of the movements of C.P.E. Bach’s version are modeled on his father’s work, especially the head-motive of the “Deposuit potentes” with triplets instead of sixteenth notes. But perhaps the most striking difference is the “Sicut locutus est,” which J.S. Bach set as a four-voice fugue and which C.P.E. Bach set as an aria for alto in his most sentimental style.
Hamburg had no tradition for performing an orchestral version of the Magnificat, and so C.P.E. Bach adapted the various movements with parody texts in some of his cantatas. The fourth movement (“Et misericordia eius”) became particularly well known as the chorus no. 4 “Fu¨rwahr, er trug unsre Krankheit” in his Passions-Cantate, which was performed every Lent in Hamburg from 1771 until his death in 1788. Thus when he decided to perform the Magnificat in a concert in 1779, he had to write a new fourth movement to replace the original, and also took the opportunity to write horn parts for two movements and add three trumpets and timpani to the opening and closing choruses and aria no. 5. Unfortunately, the Thomanerchor presented a hybrid version, using the additional brass instruments but retaining the original chorus no. 4. (The layers of Bach’s revisions on the Magnificat have been sorted out by Christine Blanken, editor of the two versions published in series V, volumes 1.1 and 1.2 of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach: The Complete Works, hereafter CPEB:CW. The early “Berlin” version has been recorded by the Basler Madrigalisten and L’arpa festante on Carus 83.412; the late “Hamburg” version, by the RIAS Kammerchor and Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin on Harmonia Mundi 902167).
The two Magnificat settings were framed by J.S. Bach’s fugue on the Magnificat tune, “Meine Seele erhebt den Herren” (BWV 733), admirably played by St. Thomas organist Ullrich Böhme, and C.P.E. Bach’s double-choir Heilig, Wq 217. The latter is representative of Emanuel’s “wahre Art” in vocal music, and he himself called it his “swan song” and published it in 1779, so he “would not be forgotten too soon” after he died. (Beethoven included it in one of his concerts in 1817; it is also a precursor of the Missa Solemnis and Ninth Symphony). It is a pity that the double-choir Heilig is not better known today. One of the problems is that it calls for two full orchestras—each with three trumpets, timpani, horns, oboes, and strings—and a Chor der Engel (Choir of Angels) and a Chor der Völker (Choir of Peoples). In this performance, Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra (the Bachfest’s ensemble in residence this year) was supplemented by members of the Leipziger Barockorchester. Bach liked to perform the Heilig at St. Michael’s Church in Hamburg, with its multiple balconies to allow a separation of the two choruses. I think it would have been more effective at St. Thomas’s to use the four soloists as the “Engel” and the Thomaner as the “Völker.” In any event the double fugue, on the words “Alle Lande sind seiner Ehren voll” (the whole earth is full of his glory), would make an even better effect in stereo.
Gotthold Schwarz conducted the performance, substituting for the Thomas Choir music director Georg Christoph Biller. (In his introductory remarks, Sir John Eliot Gardiner, president of the Bach-Archiv Leipzig, reminded us that Schwarz was one of the soloists on the Bach Pilgrimage in 2000). There were five soloists: Julia Sophie Wagner (soprano), Susanne Krumbiegel (mezzosoprano), Benno Schachtner (countertenor), Martin Petzold (tenor), and Andreas Scheibner (bass). The duet no. 6 in C.P.E. Bach’s setting was really excellent, as was the alto aria no. 7 with flutes.
On Saturday night, 14 June, at the Nikolaikirche, we had another pairing of father and son, with J.S. Bach’s cantata, “Du Hirte Israel, höre,” BWV 104 and C.P.E. Bach’s oratorio, Die Israeliten in der Wüste, Wq 238. This is not really a fair comparison, since BWV 104 has just six movements (opening chorus, two pairs of recitative and arias for tenor and bass respectively, and closing chorale), while Wq 238 is more than an hour long with twenty-eight movements in two parts. The cantata BWV 104 was written for Misericordias (“Good Shepherd” Sunday) in Easter near the end of Bach’s first annual cycle. He uses a variety of oboes, as solo or in combination, to create the pastorale affect, likening Jesus to “the shepherd of Israel” (no. 1), leading his sheep out of the “Wüste” (wilderness, no. 3), and ending with a paraphrase of Psalm 23 (chorale no. 6). Daniel Schiebeler, the poet of Die Israeliten in der Wüste, also emphasizes Moses rescuing Israel from the desert and foreshadowing the Christological Jesus (in part 2), without naming him, as the “Eternal One” (no. 24) “promised of God, who shall wipe out Adam’s guilt” (no. 25) and the “Redeemer of the world” (no. 27). The oratorio is not sacred music per se, and C.P.E. Bach wrote that it “is so designed that it can be performed not just on solemn occasions but at any time, inside or outside church, simply in praise of God, and without offence to any members of the Christian Church.” It was originally written for the dedication of the Lazareths-Kirche in 1769, and later slightly revised and published in 1775. (Gluck conducted it in Vienna for the Tonkünstlersocietät, and Beethoven included excerpts in one of his benefit concerts forty years later).
Die Israeliten is probably as close as C.P.E. Bach ever came to writing operatic music, and almost all the arias are lengthy da capo settings. The singers, especially the sopranos Hannah Morrison (Erste Israelitin) and Sarah Maria Sun (Zweite Israelitin) attempted embellishments in the reprises. These were not entirely convincing, sounding too rehearsed and at times forced. Bach himself wrote out embellishments for the two arias for the Zweite Israelitin, specifically for Johanna Elisabeth von Winthem, who married the poet Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock in 1791, and these are published in an appendix to the critical edition (CPEB:CW, IV/1, ed. Reginald L. Sanders). The tenor Daniel Johannsen (Aaron) was slightly weak, but the bass Johannes Weisser (Moses) was strong, especially in the central aria no. 15 with bassoon obbligato. The duet no. 13 for two sopranos accompanied by two flutes and strings was one of the most memorable moments. Christoph Spering led the Chorus Musicus Köln and Das Neue Orchester in a convincing performance. If anything, Bach’s first oratorio is understated compared to the closing fugal choruses in his Magnificat and the later oratorio, Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu, Wq 240 (performed at the 2013 Bachfest). Nevertheless, Die Israeliten contains some dramatic music, including the accompanied recitative with chorus no. 14, in which Moses is constantly interrupted by the dying Israelites. Then after his aria no. 15, Moses strikes the rock (represented by a succession of tutti hammer strokes in the orchestra) to release water (a bubbling wave of sixteenth notes in the violins) for the people who join in a chorus no. 16, “O Wunder! Gott hat uns erhört! (O wonder! God has heard us!). After Verdi and Wagner, these seem extremely subtle effects, but they were praised by Bach’s contemporaries for their powerful and even thrilling expression.
The next evening concert at the Nikolaikirche on Sunday, 15 June, offered a survey “From Baroque to Classicism,” but the order of pieces went in the opposite direction, starting with C.P.E. Bach’s Symphony in G Major, Wq 180, and ending with J.S. Bach’s Orchestral Suite in D Major, BWV 1069. Of course there is nothing wrong with mixing things up a little, but this program by the Streicherakademie Bozen, led by its bassoonist Sergio Azzolini rather than the concertmaster Georg Egger, was a strange affair. First, the ensemble was muddy—perhaps due to the unfamiliarity of the live acoustic in St. Nikolai?—and I thought they would have to start BWV 1069 over. Also, each piece began to sound like a bassoon concerto, and while Azzolini did play Mozart’s Bassoon Concerto (K 191) impressively from memory, he was overbearing in the other pieces, especially BWV 1069. Less so, perhaps, in the Oboe Concerto in E-flat, Wq 165, skillfully played by Giovanni De Angeli, but when the two of them played the anonymous Concerto in C Minor, the bassoon dominated the oboe. (In the program this latter concerto was attributed “possibly” to Handel or Johann Georg Pisendel, but it sounded more like Vivaldi to me or more likely a pastiche made by a later composer writing in the baroque manner). Beware: the group has released a three-CD set of “C.P.E. Bach: Bassoon Music” which in fact is concertos and other works arranged/played by bassoon. (I have no objection to Azzolini playing these works on bassoon, but they should not be marketed as though they were written for bassoon).
The concert on Monday, 16 June, again at the Nikolaikirche, presented by Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra, was a complete and refreshing contrast to the previous night’s affair. Appearing with the Canadian group was Midori Seiler, who played two violin concertos: Georg Philipp Telemann’s Concerto in B-flat Major, TWV 51: B1, and J.S. Bach’s reconstructed Concerto in D minor, BWV 1052R. (She also offered a separate concert of solo violin music with two of the Partitas, BWV 1004 and 1006). The concert began with Bach’s Sinfonia in G Major, from the cantata “Ich liebe den Höchsten von ganzem Gemüte,” BWV 174, which most people today would know as the Third Brandenburg Concerto but with additional oboes and horns. It seems to me that Bach miscalculated in adding difficult horn parts to his concerto grosso for three violins, violas, and cellos; in this performance, the horns had some trouble. C.P.E. Bach’s Symphony in C Major, Wq 174, written in Potsdam, 1755, originally included horns, and Bach later added flutes, and in this case the scoring (and playing) was more successful. Closing out the first half was J.S. Bach’s Concerto in C Minor, BWV 1060R, reconstructed for oboe and violin. The two soloists—John Abberger and Jeanne Lamon (also the leader of Tafelmusik)—had excellent chemistry with the ensemble. After a short break, we heard another piece in C minor: Handel’s Concerto grosso, op. 6, no. 8. This piece sounds like a cross between a trio sonata and a concerto (two violins and cello soloists accompanied by strings and continuo), and features a quotation from the aria “Piangerò, la sorte mia” from his opera Giulio Cesare.
On Tuesday, 17 June we were treated to two double concertos: J.S. Bach’s Concerto in C Major for two harpsichords, BWV 1061, and C.P.E. Bach’s Concerto in E-flat Major for forte piano and harpsichord, Wq 47. Thus, we could compare one of the earliest keyboard concertos written by the father—possibly for his two eldest sons, Wilhelm Friedrich and Carl Philipp Emanuel, and to be played at his Collegium musicum concerts in the early 1730s—and the last of fifty-two keyboard concertos written by the son in 1788 as a special commission from Sara Levy in Berlin. In both concertos, the solo keyboards are equal partners; Malcolm Bilson played the harpsichord in the former and fortepiano in the latter, and Richard Egarr, conductor of the Academy of Ancient Music, played the harpsichord in both concertos. The second movement marked Adagio ovvero Largo of BWV 1061 is unaccompanied, and it seems that C.P.E. Bach originally conceived Wq 47 for the two keyboards alone, adding the flutes, horns, and strings later. While still a student in Leipzig, C.P.E. Bach arranged his father’s Concerto in D Minor for two harpsichords (known as BWV 1052a).
Written in the same year as Wq 47, Mozart’s “Jupiter” Symphony, K 551, seems decades advanced. Egarr made the chamber orchestra (12 violins, 3 violas, 3 cellos, 2 contrabasses) sound twice as big in the resonant Nikolaikirche, and he was certainly going for “heroic” Beethoven, rather than classicist Mozart. Mozart almost certainly performed his latest Symphony at the old Gewandhaus in Leipzig in April 1789, when he gave a benefit concert with Josepha Duschek. (A program survives with a handwritten “C#” indicating C major). Whether or not Mozart ever said of C.P.E. Bach “er ist der Vater, wir sind die Bub’n” (he is the father, we are the boys), the Andante cantabile of K 551 is indebted to his concept of varied reprises. And there are other “C.P.E. Bach moments” in the opening Allegro vivace, where the music comes to a stop followed by a dramatic contrast. Egarr and the Academy of Ancient Music gave an exciting performance, and the final Molto Allegro with its double fugue brought the audience to its feet.
On Wednesday, 18 June, the Thomanerchor and Gewandhausorchester Leipzig presented choral works by J.S. Bach and Telemann, who first preceded Bach to Leipzig, where he started the Collegium musicum as director of the Neuekirche, and then preceded his godson C.P.E. Bach to Hamburg as music director of the five principal churches. Telemann’s Donner-Ode, TWV 6:3, was sandwiched between two of J.S. Bach’s cantatas for “Jubilate” (the Third Sunday of Easter), BWV 12 and 146. Written a few months after the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami that practically destroyed Lisbon on 1 November 1755, the Donner-Ode (literally, thunder ode) is a powerful work praising the awesome might of God. The text by Johann Andreas Cramer paraphrases biblical texts, especially the Psalms, in depicting the voice of God, which “rocks the seas” (no. 4), “shatters the cedars of Lebanon” (no. 5), and “sends forth flames, shatters, and destroys” (no. 6). The opening chorus, with soli sung by members of the Thomanerchor, is repeated twice more, at the end of part 1 and part 2, as if to emphasize the glory. One of the nice effects is an abrupt cadence on the word “erstaunt” (as in: “the whole world sees it and is amazed”), followed by a caesura, creating a musical exclamation point. Telemann proves that the doctrine of affections was not yet dead in the mid-1750s, though some of his contemporaries thought his text-painting was over the top. Indeed, in the duet no. 7 for two basses Telemann has the singers (on this occasion, Stephan Genz and Matthias Weichert) imitate the thunderous voice of God, along with the timpani, which has a prominent part in other movements as well. Part 2 was added after the first performance on 11 March 1756, and the chorus no. 8 (also with soli) is repeated after no. 11. Otherwise, the entire work is a succession of arias without any recitative.
By contrast, the two cantatas—“Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen,” BWV 12, and “Wir müssen durch viel Trübsal,” BWV 146—are more subdued works. I wonder if anyone else felt a little jarred by the alto recitative and aria, coming immediately after the sinfonia and opening chorus of BWV 12? The Thomanerchor—unlike typical English boy choirs, which have men singing the alto, tenor, and bass parts—only has boys and young men (in their late teens), who have a very special blend. But their tradition is to give the solos to mature female and male singers, who often have a totally different tone quality. While Reglint Bühler (soprano), Annette Markert (alto), Martin Lattke (tenor), and the two basses already mentioned all did a splendid job, I would like to hear more of the Thomaner on the solos in cantatas. Telemann and C.P.E. Bach in Hamburg had only eight singers for their choral work, including two boy sopranos, although for their non-liturgical works like oratorios, they could write for female sopranos.
The organist Daniel Beilschmidt deserves special commendation for the solos in the first two movements of BWV 146. He basically played the same music as the solo violin in the concerto we heard earlier, BWV 1052R, and he might have continued in the third movement (one of the earliest sources indicates the obbligato line was played by organ), but the first violin took over. There must be an interesting reason for Bach writing the solo for organ, instead of violin. Was his regular violinist sick or unavailable? Or perhaps it was too difficult for the violinist to learn on short notice? (That’s hard to say, since we don’t know for sure when the cantata was first written). Gotthold Schwarz conducted the Gewandhausorchester, a group that plays music primarily from the post-Baroque period, so it is natural that they use modern, not historical, instruments. After hearing Tafelmusik and the Academy of Ancient Music, I missed the historical instruments.
Installation Music was the theme of the concert at the Nikolaikirche on Thursday, 19 June, with two “Ratswechsel” cantatas for the installation of the Leipzig town council: “Lobe den Herrn, meine Seele,” BWV 69, and “Wir danken dir, Gott, wir danken dir,” BWV 29; plus C.P.E. Bach’s installation cantata for Pastor Gasie (1785), “Gnädig und barmherzig ist der Herr,” H 821l. The celebratory nature of these works called for three trumpets and timpani in addition to the orchestra and choir, here performed by the Capella Cracoviensis and conducted by Jan Tomasz Adamus. The four soloists—Jolanta Kowalska (soprano), Kai Wessel (alto), Karol Kozlowski (tenor), Peter Harvey (bass)—all sang with the rest of the chorus. As a bonus we heard the chorus “Wer ist so würdig als du,” Wq 222, based on Bach’s setting of Psalm 8 paraphrased by the poet J.A. Cramer (originally published for voice and keyboard as Wq 196/4, which Ruth Holton sang at her lieder recital). The chorus had its premiere at a concert in December 1774 and it was later revised for the Easter cantata, “Nun danket alle Gott,” Wq 241.
The following night at the Thomaskirche we heard very different cantatas by C.P.E. Bach, Telemann, and J.S. Bach. On Friday afternoon the orchestra, the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, became the first ensemble to be awarded the Bach Medal of the City of Leipzig. They were joined that evening by the Dresdner Kammerchor and conductor Hans-Christoph Rademann. The program did have a theme, namely, the times of day. Thus it was appropriate that the concert opened with Klopstocks Morgengesang am Schöpfungsfeste, Wq 239, a chamber cantata for two sopranos (Gerlinde Sämann and Katja Stuber), flutes, strings, and chorus. Chronologically, it was the last of the three works performed that evening to be written, in 1783. Telemann’s Die Tageszeiten, TWV 20:39, was unknown to me (and I suspect most of the audience); it has a simple design and is basically four solo cantatas, with an aria, accompanied recitative, a contrasting aria, and concluding chorus. The first, “Morning,” was sung by the soprano Katja Stuber, “Midday” by the alto Anke Vondung, “Evening” by the tenor Julian Prégardien, and “Night” by the bass Tobias Berndt. Almost every movement has a colorful tempo in German, like Freudig (joyfully), Ernsthaft (gravely), Lebhaft (lively), and so on. The second of the tenor’s arias, marked “Schlaftrunken” (drowsily) and accompanied by flutes, is a great expression of falling asleep, with its tipsy irregular rhythms.
The concert ended, appropriately enough, with J.S. Bach’s wedding cantata, ”Dem Gerechten muss das Licht,” BWV 195. Apparently written around 1727, Bach revised and performed the work several times over the years. Both the opening chorus, based on Psalm 97:11–12, and the closing chorus (no. 5), feature the soloists and chorus, and they were well balanced. The final chorale no. 6, which would have been performed at the conclusion of the service, might have been omitted here. After the festive music it seemed a little perfunctory (and in the wrong key), one of the hazards of removing Bach’s cantatas from their original context. (Presumably, the congregation would have joined in singing the chorale tune “Lobt Gott, Ihr Christen” in Bach’s day). The program notes reminded us that many composers in the Age of Enlightenment were interested in depicting nature as well as classifying the times of day, seasons, and stages of life.
On Saturday, 21 June, we had the choice between hearing Handel’s “Brockes-Passion,” HWV 48, at the Nikolaikirche with Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra and the Zürcher Sing-Akademie, or an Orgelkonzert at the Gewandhaus Great Hall with Michael Schönheit (Gewandhausorganist) plus the Collegium Vocale Leipzig and the Merseburger Hofmusik. I chose the latter, though I might have preferred the former. C.P.E. Bach wrote relatively little organ music—basically five sonatas, a prelude, and six fugues. Schönheit played three pieces: the Prelude in D Major, Wq 70/7, the Fantasia and Fugue in C Minor, Wq 119/7, and the Sonata in A Minor, Wq 70/4. In 1772 Bach admitted to Charles Burney that he had not played the organ for many years. The sonatas were probably written for Princess Amalia’s house organ, which survives in Potsdam (a historical engraving and its specification are published in CPEB:CW, I/9). These are charming pieces and most can be played on a two-manual harpsichord just as well as an organ. Clearly, Bach was not thinking of the mammoth organ in the Gewandhaus, and the music is underwhelming on such an instrument.
We had the opportunity to hear a second time the Concerto in E-flat Major for harpsichord and fortepiano, Wq 47, this time played by Denny Wilke (harpsichord) and Schönheit (fortepiano), but they set up the two keyboards at the back of the large stage, presumably to avoid having to remove them for the rest of the concert, and this made the chamber orchestra seem too distant in the concert hall. I thought it worked much better in the Nikolaikirche, though that acoustic is far from ideal for such an intimate work. After this, the ensemble moved to the front of the stage and was joined by the chorus to perform the Easter cantata, “Gott hat den Herrn auferwecket,” Wq 244. Written in 1756, it is the only other major vocal work, besides the Magnificat, that Bach wrote before coming to Hamburg in 1768. (Telemann probably performed it in Hamburg already in 1756). But it is not as polished as the Magnificat. Like all of Bach’s later festival music (Quartalstücke), it has three trumpets and timpani, plus two flutes, oboes, horns, and strings. After this we heard C.P.E. Bach’s single-choir Heilig, Wq 218, in which he borrowed and adapted the “Sicut locutus est” fugue from his father’s Magnificat for the text “Alle Lande sind seiner Ehre voll.”
The second half of the concert featured the Einführungsmusik Friderici, H 821g. At least we think it was the installation cantata for Pastor Friderici in 1775. Stephen Clark identified the piece based solely on the description in the estate catalogue: the work is only one of two installation cantatas that calls for two horns. The other, for Pastor Sturm (H 821i) in 1778, is known. We have neither the printed libretto nor the original performing material for H 821g. (The parts were bought in 1805 by the collector Caspar Siegfried Gähler and disappeared after his death in 1826, along with a few other works sold in the same lot). The only known source is a late copy dating from the 1790s, without a pastor’s name that belonged to Bach’s successor, Schwenke. In this work, almost all of the music is borrowed from other composers, mostly Georg Benda and Homilius, so as a work by Bach it is doubly doubtful. But since there is a copy of a cantata by Benda that contains C.P.E. Bach’s annotations (in D-B, Mus. ms. 18704), we can be fairly certain that he was the arranger of the cantata. The soloists were all members of the choir: Gesine Adler (soprano), Britta Schwarz (alto), Albrecht Sack (tenor), and Raimund Nolte (bass). (The texts of the two cantatas were a mess in the program. Since H 821g at least is available on the website www.cpebach.org there is no excuse for this).
On Sunday morning, 22 June, I returned to the Great Hall of the Gewandhaus to hear Haydn’s Schöpfung conducted by Masaaki Suzuki. Haydn was a disciple of C.P.E. Bach, but his late oratorios owe more to Handel and Mozart of Die Zauberflöte than to Bach’s Die Israeliten and Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu, even though Haydn might have heard these two works in Vienna conducted by Gluck in 1777 and Mozart in 1789, respectively. Overall, the pacing and tempi were excellent, and Suzuki (Bach Medal winner) brought out the dramatic contrasts in the score with vividness. The three British soloists were likewise excellent. Soprano Carolyn Sampson (Gabriel and Eve) sang beautifully with clear, floating tones soaring above the chorus and orchestra. James Gilchrist (Uriel) is a fine lyric tenor and blended well in ensembles, and baritone Christopher Purves (Raphael and Adam) had perfect diction and a flexible voice, hitting a low D at the end of his aria “Nun scheint in vollem Glanze” in part 2. The 60-voice MDR Radio Chorus and Gewandhaus Orchestra filled the hall with glorious sound.
In addition to the “Wahre Art” concerts I had the pleasure to hear two lieder recitals: one with soprano Ruth Holton accompanied by Malcolm Bilson on Sunday, 15 June at the Evangelisch Reformierte Kirche, and the other with soprano Dorothee Mields accompanied by Christine Schornsheim on Sunday, 22 June at the Altes Rathaus. (There was another recital with the baritone Matthias Winckhler with Bernadette Bartos on Saturday, 21 June that I missed). Holton opened with four of J.S. Bach’s “geistliche Lieder” from the Schemelli Gesangbuch (1736) and closed with five of Haydn’s English songs. Sandwiched between them were selections from C.P.E. Bach’s “Gellert” Lieder (Wq 194), “Sturm” Lieder (Wq 197), “Cramer” Psalmen (Wq 196), and one aria from Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu. Holton’s voice is much like that of her teacher, Emma Kirkby, light and ready with tasteful ornaments. It was a treat to hear the original solo version of “Wer ist so würdig als du” (Wq 196/4) and the weighty Sturm-und-Drang “Der Tag des Weltgerichts” (Wq 197/13). Bilson also performed some solo keyboard music, including C.P.E. Bach’s Rondo in C Minor, Wq 59/4 and the Sonata in G Minor, Wq 65/7, as well as Haydn’s Sonata in F Minor (Hob. XVII:6) and Fantasia in C Major (Hob. XVII:4). Paired with characteristically “bizarre” works by C.P.E. Bach, we heard some of the influence of Bach on his younger colleague.
Mields and Schornsheim gave us an afternoon of C.P.E. Bach’s lieder interspersed with solo keyboard music. The theme of the recital was “On Kissing” (über das Küssen), and the songs were grouped under the following headings: “Vom Küssen allgemein” (on kissing in general), with pieces like “Bevelise und Lysidor,” Wq 200/7 and “Die Küsse,” Wq 199/4; “Über den Judaskuss” (on the kiss of Judas), including the “Passionslied,” Wq 202/C/13; “Vom Todeskuss aus dem Schierlingsbecher” (on the deadly kiss from the cup of hemlock) with Heinrich Wilhelm von Gerstenberg’s arrangement of the Fantasia in C Minor, Wq 63/6/iii, underlaid with Socrates’s monologue on death; and “Von den märkischen und sächsischen Helenen” (on the Brandenburg and Saxon Helene), referring to two of C.P.E. Bach’s songs, Wq 199/14 and 199/1, respectively. Schornsheim played a well-preserved forte piano found in an attic in Regensburg with the bill of sale from 1790 still attached. She made good use of its damper in two songs—“Die Schlummernde,” Wq 202/G/1 and “Ich ging unter Erlen am kühlingen Bach,” Wq 202/L/1—both with references to nightingale song. The Rondo in E Major, Wq 57/1, and the Fantasia in E-flat Major, Wq 58/6, displayed her virtuosity on the instrument. Mields has recorded the “Gellert” songs with Ludger Rémy (on CPO 777 061-2), and she is an amazing interpreter of this repertory. In “Trinklied,” Wq 200/13, she assumed various personae espousing the joy of wine in a setting of a poem by Ludwig Christoph Heinrich Hölty (1748–1776), and she took advantage of her impressive dramatic range in the cantata, “Die Grazien,” Wq 200/22.
Matins (Mette) and Vespers (Motette) were offered daily, in addition to the Sunday morning services at the two main churches. There was an impressive range of choral literature from Schütz and Buxtehude to Arvo Pärt and contemporary composers, almost always including a motet or cantata by J.S. Bach. Depending on your beliefs and perspectives, these are either concerts with readings and prayers, or worship services with music. Typically applause is held until the end of the concert/service, and some people are still uncomfortable to applaud at all. It is strange to think that J.S. and C.P.E. Bach’s music was never applauded in church.
Every year, the final concert of the Bachfest is J.S. Bach’s Mass in B Minor, BWV 232, given in the Thomaskirche. Ton Koopman and the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra & Choir had the honor of performing the work this year. Having heard a number of movements earlier in the week in their original context, I was aware more than ever that “the grosse catholische Messe” (the great Catholic mass, as C.P.E. Bach’s estate catalogue refers to it) is a compendium of different musical forms and styles as well as a collection of some of his best work. The four soloists—Yetzabel Arias Fernandez (soprano), Maarten Engeltjes (countertenor), Tilman Lichdi (tenor), and Klaus Mertens (bass)—were all brilliant, as were the choir and orchestra. Koopman shared the continuo playing with Kathryn Cok. My only complaint is that some of the tempo changes were inconsistent. For instance, the tactus between the “Et incarnatus est” (3/4) and “Crucifixus (3/2) was constant, but not so between the “Quoniam” (3/4) and “Cum Sancto Spiritu” (3/4), where the latter (marked Vivace) was too fast in relation. The excitement is built into the music, so there is no need to rush. The change of meter between the “Sanctus” (C) and “Pleni sunt coeli” (3/8) is especially tricky, but shouldn’t the tactus stay the same (triplet beat in former = one measure in latter)? If so, then the “Sanctus” should be more stately so the “Pleni” doesn’t sound like a sprint.
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In addition to all the other concerts, there is an exhibition at the Bach Museum running through July titled ‘Die Musik muss das Herz rühren’: Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach zum 300. Geburtstag, with an excellent catalogue by the Director of the Bach-Archiv, Peter Wollny. Many autograph letters and other documents from the Elias N. Kulukundis Collection, currently on loan to the Bach-Archiv, are on display, as well as the first recording of a piece by C.P.E. Bach done in the early 1930s. Each day there was a lecture on C.P.E. Bach by the Bach-Archiv staff and guest speakers, including Peter Wollny (on “Bachische Originalgeist”), Solvey Donadel and Ruprecht Langer (on Bach in Berlin), Tobias Plebuch (on the Versuch), Wolfram Enßlin (on Bach in Hamburg), Andreas Glöckner (on the relationship between father and son’s church music), and Christine Blanken (on Bach’s pupils and reception). Of the other composers celebrating their 300th birthdays this year, Homilius was well represented with several cantatas and Jommelli with a motet (“Veni Creator Spiritus”); only Gluck was totally ignored. Instead of performing one of Gluck’s operas, the Leipzig Opera offered a ballet version of Mozart’s Requiem. Alas!
The Bachfest Leipzig 2014 took place between 13 and 22 June in Leipzig, Germany.