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EARLY MUSIC REVIEW
Elizabeth Blumenstock Mary Wilson
March 3, 2007
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Riches From the Chamber By Michael Zwiebach
In its latest concert, the American Bach Soloists really were soloists. With Music Director Jeffrey Thomas sitting on the sidelines in the First Congregational Church in Berkeley, the musicians played an outstanding chamber concert on Saturday that showcased the extraordinary talents of violinist Elizabeth Blumenstock and soprano Mary Wilson. Playing one on a part, the small ensemble cast was as crisp and musical as ever, though here they unobtrusively left the virtuosity to the stars.
Still making their ambitious way through the entire Bach corpus, the group featured three works by the composer in this set. Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten (Vanish, mournful shadows), BWV 202, one of only two surviving wedding cantatas that are complete (out of who knows how many), was paired with the Sonata for Violin and Harpsichord in E Major, BWV 1016, on the first half of the program. Blumenstock's own arrangement of the Concerto in D Minor, BWV 1052, shared the second half with a Vivaldi motet, Nulla in mundo pax sincera (There is no honest peace in the world), RV 630, and Handel's Deutsche Arien, HWV 205-208.
Blumenstock was smartly partnered with harpsichordist Charles Sherman in the sonata, and together they gave a pointed, rhythmically incisive, but charmingly lyrical account of the score. In the wake of his solo violin and cello sonatas, it was unlikely that Bach would return to the old model of solo-plus-continuo, and indeed he didn't. In this sonata, which Bach published as part of a set of six, the musical textures and melody lines shift between the instruments equally, adding contrapuntal interest (of course), but also giving the music a natural ebb and flow. The two musicians brought these qualities to the fore, highlighting all sorts of little felicities in the writing.
It's probably redundant to list Blumenstock's admirable qualities as a violinist, since she is so well-known in the early music community. She has superb technique — remarkably controlled soft dynamics, feather-light trills, and marvelous bow control (especially in staccato and arpeggiated passages). But she is also passionate, though not in a showy manner, and moves her body freely when she plays. Some melodic lines received phrasing from her that was almost romantic in its intensity. And her tone is sweet and unforced.
Hearing the D-Minor Concerto for Harpsichord in a reconstruction of its original version for violin was a little disorienting at first. But after my ears adjusted to the violin's sound, I found the results of Blumenstock's labors quite rewarding. The violin, in its Baroque incarnation (before it got souped-up in the 19th century), is a less dominating solo instrument than the harpsichord, and that was right for this concert.
The head motive of the first movement was traded back and forth and emerged from Blumenstock's bariolage passagework with a dexterity that transformed the concerto into true chamber music. At the same time, Blumenstock's penetrating tone in the Adagio second movement, plus her extraordinarily dexterous divisions in the cadenza passages, made it seem that we were hearing the (now-lost) original version of the concerto.
Bach's wedding cantata is a musically rich piece that begins with an evocative tone painting of winter frost yielding to spring's delights (suggesting the joys to come). The gentle melody, breathed in lovely, hushed tones through Debra Nagy's oboe, was taken up by Wilson in similar manner, with such control that the long-held pianissimo on "Ruh" (peace) was clearly audible despite its being almost literally whispered. The tempo shift that signals the onset of spring was handled without overt drama, and the rest of the cantata, with sensuous obbligato support from William Skeen, on cello, progressively lightened the mood until a final, sharply etched, but delightful Gavotte brought the work to a close. Vivaldi's motet, which has been elevated above its sisters by virtue of appearing on the soundtrack to the movie Shine, has been rightfully praised for its ravishingly beautiful first movement. Wilson sang it with perfect legato, even venturing some modest ornamentation in the repeat of the first section. The rest of the piece, however, rapidly becomes more virtuosic, until the etudelike concluding "Alleluia." Wilson's enviable clarity, to say nothing of her startlingly pristine runs, achieved without excess breathiness, were on display here, and the calm smile that lit her face showed that she knew she was knocking us dead. When Blumenstock joined Wilson for the evening's final selection, the Handel arias, the audience had long since been conquered. It responded with a standing ovation and much foot-stamping. No critic could argue with that judgment.
(Michael Zwiebach holds a Ph.D. in music history from UC Berkeley.)
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