San Francisco Classical Voice

March 13, 1999

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