San Francisco Classical Voice

Yet the lack of translations was not the most egregious error in the program. As difficult as it can be to write program notes for extremely obscure music, there is no excuse for plagiarism. Unbeknownst to Stanford Lively Arts (who printed the program in good faith), conductor Michael Alexander Willens' notes were cribbed directly from Basil Smallman's article “A Forgotten Oratorio Passion” (The Musical Times, vol. 115, no. 1572, pp. 118-21). The sequence of events is entirely the same, and entire phrases and sentences are lifted wholesale from Smallman's text. Interestingly, some of Smallman's later comments on the work, ones that directly impact performance choices, were not noted by Willens. These are laid out in detail in the German foreword and critical commentary to Smallman's edition of 1984 (presumably the edition Willens' group uses).

In fact, the original portions of Willens' notes were the most dubious. Stating that this work is “certainly not as powerful as the Bach or other later Passions that followed it,” Willens then says, “I believe this work clearly led the way to those masterpieces, and this performance is a gesture in that direction.” There is no evidence that Bach ever heard or saw this work.

But it gets worse. “In accordance with the performance practice of the time, we are presenting this work at high pitch (a' [the pitch generally set around 440 Hz in "modern" practice] = 465 Hz), with five solo singers who double as chorus and soloists.” Now, pitch is a notoriously tricky subject, varying from city to city, institution to institution, and even within a single institution, according to the vocal or instrumental nature of the music. Given no evidence of the pitch standard at Riga, where Meder worked, the assumption that the piece is meant to be performed at high pitch is puzzling. The fact that Meder's score specifies “hautbois” [oboe], an instrument imported from France and pitched low, and that Smallman's edition of the score indicates no transposition for the hautbois, could indicate that Meder's organ was at a lower pitch. It is possible that the oboists transposed a third at sight, or that oboe parts in a different key have been lost, but in the absence of any real evidence, opting for the high pitch seems odd.

I wonder if it was that choice that necessitated the use of a tiny and inaudible portable organ, rather than the “magnificent Renaissance organ” advertised in the Stanford Lively Arts program. It also made life difficult for the string players, since playing at such high tension is both unfamiliar and uncomfortable for most instruments and instrumentalists. On the vocal end, it did not prove much of a problem. Soprano Nicki Kennedy had no trouble with the high notes, and bass Johannes Hüchbauer's lower range benefited from the boost up a tone or two.

I apologize for spending so much time dissecting Willens' performance-practice and other choices when he wasn't even at the concert. Apparently, he was too ill to travel from Germany. Three cheers then for Kennedy, who sang beautifully even though jetlagged and heavily pregnant. Her “Ach, mein Jesu der muß sterben” [Oh, my Jesus who must die] was particularly beautiful, with soaring high notes and a touching purity of expression.

In fact, the ensemble featured a number of well-known and accomplished performers, and in a sense the director's sad absence may even have had an upside, since this music often works better with no conductor (and the conductor, if anything, is completely ahistorical). Mark Tucker as the Evangelist was solid in his delivery, if a bit overly histrionic at times. Perhaps he was overcompensating for the lack of drama in the music itself, or for the subdued expression of his fellow singers.

The highlight of the concert for me was the fine playing of oboists/recorder players Michael Niesemann and Wolfgang Dey. Their double-handed instrumental skills were delightful, and their expression and intonation excellent. Dey was especially stellar in the recorder solos accompanying Kennedy's soulful arias surrounding the trial of Jesus.

Yet these were not arias in the sense of Bach's Passion arias; rather, Meder followed an older tradition of setting strophes from chorales for solo voice with instrumental accompaniment. The result is interesting (in a meditative, spiritual way), but perhaps a bit difficult for modern audiences to digest. Where Meder excels is in his recitative — a great example being his setting of the rending of the veil of the temple and the earthquake after Jesus' death. But without texts (again), it could be difficult to understand what was going on. As Meder wrote the dialogues of Jesus, Caiaphas, and Pilate for bass voice, they were all sung by Hüchbauer. Perhaps the interrogation of Jesus by Pilate would have been less confusing for someone who knows the story, but not German, if Hüchbauer had adopted a slightly different style of vocalization or an alternate pose for the different characters.

Though there is plenty of evidence for one-on-a-part Passions, there is also plenty of evidence for the singers going unseen. Maybe this concert would have been less disorienting if the singers had been behind a screen. Or if there had been texts. Or if I had had lower expectations. What all this boils down to is that I was not impressed. Perhaps the group would have fared better had Willens been there, but, given his apparent misunderstanding of what is historical and what is not, and his inability to give credit where it is due, I somehow doubt it.