Originally recorded for the Astrée label in the early '90s, this recording is something of a classic of the historical-performance movement, and its reissue is cause for celebration. It combines awesome soloists just hitting their peak years, a distinctive overall approach from conductor Christophe Coin and the Ensemble Baroque de Limoges, and an illustration of what's possible when Bach's music is played on the instruments he had in mind when he wrote it. The illustration is especially vivid in this case, for all three of these cantatas feature an unusual instrument: a violoncello piccolo, which is a small five-stringed cello with a higher (the extra string is at the top) and less assertive sound than a full-size cello. There is also a second disc of these with the same forces and the same virtues…
Originally recorded for the Astrée label in the early '90s, this recording is something of a classic of the historical-performance movement, and its reissue is cause for celebration. It combines awesome soloists just hitting their peak years, a distinctive overall approach from conductor Christophe Coin and the Ensemble Baroque de Limoges, and an illustration of what's possible when Bach's music is played on the instruments he had in mind when he wrote it. The illustration is especially vivid in this case, for all three of these cantatas feature an unusual instrument: a violoncello piccolo, which is a small five-stringed cello with a higher (the extra string is at the top) and less assertive sound than a full-size cello. There is also a second disc of these with the same forces and the same virtues…
Widely regarded as one of the foremost interpreters of Bach's music today, Masaaki Suzuki has made his name both as the artistic director of the Bach Collegium Japan and as a performer on the harpsichord and the organ. Much interest has been focussed on the BCJ/Suzuki series of Bach Cantatas, begun in 1995 and reaching its final stretch with the recent release of Volume 46 (of a projected 55 discs). Hailed by the international music press, this monumental undertaking has acquired a world-wide following. From the very beginning of the collaboration with BIS, however, there have been numerous recording projects beyond the sacred cantatas of Johannes Sebastian, and, indeed, beyond Bach himself. Some of these acclaimed recordings can now be found in a limited edition boxed set, released in connection with the 20th anniversary of Bach Collegium Japan this year.
Johann Sebastian Bach is one of the most prolific composers in the history of music – also literally, with his twenty children, but mainly in terms of his exceptional output. In spite of this, those of his works which appeared in print during his lifetime are less numerous than the proverbial tip of the iceberg. This does not imply that his music did not circulate: indeed, at his time, the favourite means of dissemination of musical works was through manuscript copies. Printing was reserved for works which were considered as particularly meaningful, and which represented the composer at his or her best; for works which had, therefore, also a “promotional” dimension, and which could foster the composer’s career by obtaining him or her fame, reputation, and possibly also a prestigious post.
Like many German composers of his time, Johann Sebastian Bach also devoted himself to the French style with its characteristic dances and rhythmic ouvertures. His regular contact from an early age with French musicians and dance masters living in Germany made him very familiar and competent with the typical features of French music. Among the results of this interest are his orchestral ouvertures, of which BWV 1066, 1068 and 1069 with large scoring are presented in this recording.
Membra Jesu Nostri (The Limbs of our Lord Jesus) is the single largest and most compelling of the 110 or so sacred vocal works left us by Dutch-German master Dietrich Buxtehude. Buxtehude is better known for his organ music and is rightfully acknowledged as a formative influence on Johann Sebastian Bach. However, Buxtehude's vocal output is slightly larger than that for organ, and he was a key player in the refinement of the German sacred concerto into what we now call the sacred cantata, which he and his wife inherited from its creator and his predecessor, Franz Tunder, in the town of Lübeck. In the years following Buxtehude's death in 1707, German composers of all kinds were gainfully employed writing cantatas in the thousands, Georg Philipp Telemann produced nearly 2,000 of them on his own.
Known for her idiosyncratic performances of baroque repertoire and eccentric personal style, the German coloratura soprano Simone Kermes trained in her native Leipzig, with early successes including the International Johann Sebastian Bach Competition. Bach has not, however, figured prominently in her career since then – Kermes gravitated towards Vivaldi, Handel and the Neapolitan composers who wrote for the great castrati, such as Riccardo Broschi, Alessandro Scarlatti and Porpora. (She has recorded several solo albums of such repertoire for Sony, including Dramma, and Colori d’Amore – reviewing the latter, BBC Music Magazine described her as ‘a remarkable artist, charming, fascinating and boldly risk-taking by turns’).
The late seventeenth century was a period of great change in English music. This was a time when the influences of Italian music were ever-increasing, brought to England by Italian composers such as Draghi, Haym, and Matteis, and by their German contemporaries Pepusch and Handel. In this new release we explore how the English composers Purcell, Weldon, and Croft responded to Italian music and incorporated the style into their own works. The piece by Purcell, Tell me, some pitying angel (or ‘The Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation’), written in the style of an Italian cantata, perfectly illustrates his mastery of the Italian style.
Johann Sebastian Bach is one of the most prolific composers in the history of music – also literally, with his twenty children, but mainly in terms of his exceptional output. In spite of this, those of his works which appeared in print during his lifetime are less numerous than the proverbial tip of the iceberg. This does not imply that his music did not circulate: indeed, at his time, the favourite means of dissemination of musical works was through manuscript copies. Printing was reserved for works which were considered as particularly meaningful, and which represented the composer at his or her best; for works which had, therefore, also a “promotional” dimension, and which could foster the composer’s career by obtaining him or her fame, reputation, and possibly also a prestigious post.