There’s something about the openness of sound, the sheer quality of music-making and the sense of connection between performers and composers that makes this a very special recording. Its contents explore the world of the Baroque chaconne, a secular dance form that became a staple of music for the concert room and chapel. The challenge of creating a piece above a repeated bass line certainly appealed to Bach, Purcell and the little-known Erlebach, each on inspired, inventive form in the works offered here. The Bach Players, a London-based collective formed in 1996, reach the music’s emotional heart with tremendous conviction.
Listening notes:
If the idea of composing above a repeated bass line sounds like a recipe for boredom, cast your ears towards Bach’s cantata no.78, ‘Jesu, der du meine Seele’ and its delicious duet for soprano and alto, which is vivaciously performed on this recording by Rachel Elliott and Clare Wilkinson.
Purcell’s endlessly inventive genius and technical mastery merge beautifully in his Chacony to create an intoxicating musical mix. The Bach Players catch the work’s elegiac grandeur, slowly developing its expressive intensity with each repetition of the English composer’s eight-bar bass.
Rated: five stars (‘exceptional’)
AS
From such a small group of players (one to each part) the volume of sound was powerful: this was definitely a ‘life doesn’t get better than this’ moment ...
[The whole review is at the Bright Cecilia Forum.]
There are growing links between the Players and King of Hearts and their concert on Saturday was as outstanding in performance as it was relaxed in its presentation.
But in a programme devoted to the links between Haydn, Corelli and Vivaldi it was their guest singer Sally Bruce-Payne who provided the real highlight of a totally shining evening.
Billed as an alto she sounded much more a warm and agile mezzo-soprano in a trio of delightfully sung Scottish folk songs arranged by Haydn and later in Vivaldi’s cantata ‘Cessate omai cessate’ (Leave off now). She had no intention of doing that in turning to Italian operatic style with a passion in florid arias and showing herself to be a vocal actress too.
Equally impressive was the instrumental music starting with Corelli’s Ciaconna in C for two violins and harpsichord and with seamless tempo changes its effect was almost hypnotic. But is there any better than Haydn in providing such a variety of mood and feeling in string quartets? On this reading of op.20 no.6 certainly not.
Although there were few fireworks from the ‘Red Priest’ Vivaldi in a predictable B flat cello sonata, it nonetheless exuded musicianship from the soloist.
The quartet, hived off from the sensitive period strings of The Bach Players, performs with warm expressivity nine fugues from Bach’s 48 as set by Mozart, who showed his genius in recognising that of another. However, central to this beautifully put-together disc is Bach’s exquisite arrangement of Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater. Bach sets to it a German version of Psalm 51, ‘Tilge Höchster meine Sünden’, which is sung here by soprano Rachel Elliott and alto Sally Bruce-Payne, sparring delicately over the velvet accompaniment of the full ensemble. Bach improves Pergolesi – and Mozart’s enclosing take is due homage.
RJ
The main piece in this interesting programme is Bach’s own arrangement, or parody of Pergolesi’s celebrated Stabat Mater for soprano and alto voices with strings and continuo. Pergolesi completed it in 1735, shortly before his death in the following year, and Bach produced his version a decade or two later. The German-rhymed paraphrase is by an unidentified author and Bach, of necessity, had to make many small adjustments to accomodate the new text. Nevertheless, in the main he remained faithful to Pergolesi’s original, though enriching the texture with an independent viola strand.
The performance is a delight from start to finish. All too often this music is spoilt by the uneven results and almost invariable rivalry stemming from the partnership of a soprano with a counter-tenor. Neither Rachel Elliott nor Sally Bruce-Payne is over-assertive or over-eager to take centre stage, much preferring to preserve the penitential context of the piece and the ethereal beauty of the music. Both voices strike my ears as about ideal as you could get. Their lightly articulated phrasing, stylish decoration and, where occasion requires, even partnership are a constant delight. Indeed, I find their sublime duet ‘Denn du willst kein Opfer haben’ outstandingly sensitive in matters of expression and here, as throughout, they are accompanied by gently complementary string playing.
In short, no rival version that I have heard on disc, and there are several, matches this one. Well-judged tempos and an ideal recorded sound set the seal on a particularly satisfying issue. To hell with the credit crunch, go and buy it, at once.
Nicholas Anderson
One group that has always impressed me is The Bach Players, directed (if that is the right word) with commendable reticence by violinist Nicolette Moonen. Their concerts always strike me as a gathering of friends, on which the audience eavesdrops, an atmosphere that produces consistent outstandingly musical performances. They have found a new London base at St John’s Downshire Hill where they continue to explore the lesser-known byways of the repertoire, this time with two Bach cantatas for the 16th Sunday after Trinity (‘Komm, du süsse Todestunde’ and ‘Wer weiß, wie nahe mir mein Ende’), three contrapuncti from the Art of Fugue and three short works by Rosenmüller. The four singers and eight players (all of whom were given detailed biographies in the programme – a further reflection on the nature of the group) were all on top form, but special mention must go to the four singers (Angharrad Gruffyd Jones, Sally Bruce-Payne, Nicholas Mulroy and Peter Harvey) and players Rodolfo Richter, Catherine Latham, James Eastaway and Silas Standage.
Andrew Benson-Wilson
The Victorians were to blame for bringing all the tinsel and trappings into Christmas. Back in the Baroque, none of those fripperies applied. The Bach Players – essentially a string quintet with organ, joined by soprano and bass – went back to basics last night, travelling from Leipzig to Italy and back to Bach again.
It was a refreshing journey, even with the odd familiar staging-post: Bach’s Air in D, neatly pointed, and Corelli’s ‘Christmas’ concerto framed the first half. Roderick Williams, one of our most versatile baritones, brought a smooth line to an already lilting ‘Welcome, precious treasure’ from Bach’s Cantata no.36. Angharad Gruffydd Jones, already a veteran of oratorio, harnessed her tone to the Baroque idiom with nimble musicality … In the Corelli the strings pointed the way, phrasing like singers and with impeccable ensemble. Awe and excitement in equal measure at the events in Bethlehem were almost tangible.
Tunder’s ‘Wachet auf!’ brought effective soprano variations on the familiar Lutheran tune. A spirit of suppressed expectation suffused Rosenmüller’s ‘Sonata settima’, effectively a string quartet, where the tricky chromatics were tightly tuned.
Cantata no. 57, Bach’s observance of the feast of Stephen, a dialogue between Christ and the Soul, brought the climax, a thrilling aria which Williams delivered with the utmost clarity. Who needs fripperies when the music is this good?
Martin Dreyer