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CHORAL MUSIC REVIEW
St. John Passion In March 13, 1999
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By Ching Chang
Modern audiences have been well conditioned to accept the epic
settings of the gospel in baroque oratorios as concert pieces, but there's another approach.
California Bach Society's exceptionally fine performances of The Passion
According to St. John last week provided a rare opportunity
to experience J.S. Bach's magnificent setting within the framework of a
Good Friday Vespers liturgy, as it was originally presented in Leipzig's Nikolaikirche in 1725. Beyond merely scholarly interest, the Society's carefully prepared offering of the work in this manner adds a much needed contextual dimension to the Passion, evoking a heightened spiritual response
in the listener.
Bach's Passio secundum Johannem is best known in its first, 1724 version,
which, coincidentally, was performed last week by the San Francisco
Symphony. The 1725 version presented by the California Bach
Society dates from Bach's second full year of employment as cantor and
music director of Leipzig's four main churches. It incorporates
significant changes from the earlier version. The 1724 version's grand, outwardly tragic opening chorus, Herr, unser Herrscher, is replaced by the more introspective chorale fantasia, O Mensch, bewein dein Sunde
gross. Also, the chorale Christe, du Lamm Gottes (from Cantata 23,
Bach's audition piece for the Leipzig post), replaces the closing chorale Ach, Herr, lass dein lieb Engelein.
Additionally, three new arias are added in this 1725 version. These, along with the chorales, may have originated in another passion (now
lost) that Bach composed a decade earlier in WeiMarch The Lutheran liturgy also asks for an opening or prelude chorale that would be
sung by the entire congregation. At the Saturday evening performance in
Berkeley's St. Mark's Episcopal Church, music director Warren Stewart
invited the audience to join in the chorale Jesu Leiden, Pein und Tod,
selected from the Neu Leipziger Gesangbuch of 1682, which would have been
used for the 1725 service.
Of course, the effect of a meticulous historical reconstruction could have been lost had this performance been trusted to
less capable hands. Stewart assembled a superb team of musicians
for these performances in which a tightly knit sense of ensemble and
purpose was obvious. From the charged realism of the talky choruses
to the luminous beauty of inner-peace-seeking chorales, the
California Bach Society's chorus deftly captured the demanding contrasts
of the score. Its smooth, unified sound would be the envy of many
professional ensembles.
In the taxing role of the Evangelist, tenor Neal Rogers delivered the
intricate recitatives with a pleasant, colloquial spontaneity, allowing
the subsequent passages to shine in high relief. Portraying the voice of
Jesus, baritone David Newman delivered a booming, authoritative sound,
his tone lightening up with eloquence as the musical phrase
ascends. John Rouse made a valuable contribution in the bravura arias for
tenor, articulating the trying coloratura passages in brilliant,
confident tone. Hugh Davies delivered his bass assignments capably, as did
mezzo Suzanne Elder Wallace in the soul-surrendering beauty of the aria,
Es is vollbracht. She was partnered by John Dornenburg's violone,
in music of an arresting character that suggests weeping.
The finest solo moments in the evening clearly belonged to soprano Ruth
Escher, her limpid soprano pouring forth that gorgeous lament, "Zerflisse, mein
Herze, in Fluten der Zahren."
While anticipating both performances of the St. John's Passion offered
here last week, I was tempted to think that
for sheer excitement, the smaller forces working within the restraints of a church setting,
could hardly compete with what an international cast of
soloists and the Symphony's forces can generate in the large Symphony Hall.
I could not have been more wrong.
In the Thursday evening performance conducted by Herbert Blomstedt at Davies Hall, the technical unevenness of the glossy
soloists was troubling and distracting. Furthermore, while the resident forces
assembled on stage displayed their usual competence, it was clear that to
them this was simply business as usual. Indeed, Bach's score survived
handily what was only the San Francisco Symphony's second performance of the work. But the subtlety of every musical gesture, the dramatic contrasts,
and above all, the spiritual lessons came to mean so much
more in the hands of the California Bach Society.
(Ching Chang is a regular contributor to the SF Bay Times and The SF
Gate.)
©1999 Ching Chang, all rights reserved
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