On Astrée E 8855 there are three sacred cantatas. The first is Jesu, nun sei gepreiset (Jesus, now be praised), BWV 41. Bach wrote the six movement score in 1725 to celebrate New Year's Day (Circumcision of Christ, Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus). The composer wrote parts for all four soloists and a four-part chorus. There is a rich and varied instrumentation: a piccolo cello in a concerted part, three trumpets, three oboes, strings, basso continuo with the addition of timpani. Of the two chorales the uplifting and sparkling first chorus with its trumpet fanfare lasts over eight minutes.

The disc Astrée E 8544 accommodates four sacred cantatas none of which commence with the customary choral movement. Cantata Ich bin ein guter Hirt (I am the Good Shepherd), BWV 85 is in six movements and is intended for Misericordias Domini (the second Sunday after Easter). It was first heard in 1725. All four soloists are deployed with a four-part chorus that appears in the very short last movement chorale. Bach chose to use a pair of oboes and a piccolo cello in addition to the strings and basso continuo.

This recording is something of a classic of the historical-performance movement. 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. Coin plays several of these instruments himself and forges an instrumental sound to match its light, ethereal quality.

Charles Burney described Johann Adolf Hasse, his contemporary, as ‘the most natural, elegant and judicious composer of vocal music, as well as the most voluminous now alive…’ His output includes 63 operas, but only two are currently recorded, yet inexplicably this is the second Piramo, albeit markedly livelier and with the bonus of its two ballet suites. Schneider’s perceptive booklet note comments that too readily we find such composers immature – ‘almost like Mozart’, rather than excitingly expressive and individual. Here even the subtitle Intermezzo tragico is novel, implying a fusion of two traditions, comic and serious. The music is equally unconventional. Recitatives slip seamlessly into and out of arias, creating a strong sense of dramatic continuity.

It was in 1985 that Philippe Herreweghe made his first recording of the St. Matthew Passion, following a public performance that created a deep impression. Thirty years later, this trailblazing interpretation is still among the top recommendations.

Biber’s sole extant opera, Arminio, was composed c1692 and first performed in Salzburg. Probably intended as a chamber work, its intimate settings are matched by music of subtle delights, with lovelorn laments, comic scenes and splashes of colour. Barbara Schlick leads a fine team of singers and the period-instrument Salzburger Hofmusik provides spirited support. A real Baroque treat.

–Graham Lock

This set is a rerelease of recordings made in 1991, not previously reviewed in Read more . In the order listed in the header, these four cantatas were composed for the following festal days in the liturgical church calendar: the Third Sunday in Advent, the Feast of St. John the Baptist, Pentecost, and Easter Sunday. All stem from the time of the younger Bach’s increasingly fractious and unhappy years as director of music in Halle, which spanned 1747 to 1764. The first of these is definitely known to have been written in 1749; the dates for the others are less certain, but stem from the mid to late 1750s.

As for the Masses, Mozart kept to the traditional plan in six sections (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei), even when the inpression is that the sections are more numerous (as many as 21 in the "Orphanage" Mass), it is actually a matter of sub-sections, of varying number according to the requirements of the particular work, including famous and impressive settings of the 'Laudamus te' and 'Et incarnatus est'.

This is vintage, classic Koopman: Tempi that never linger, orchestral textures that accord privilege to clarity and insight over effect and superb, beautifully articulated, solo vocal lines. Koopman's lucidity might appear a little too detached or cool for some listeners who are used to responding to the emotional charge of Bach's Passions. One of Koopman's greatest strengths is his grasp of architecture: of the unfolding of the passion events; of the relative roles and interactions of the soloists and 'crowds'; of the inevitability of events in a musical - as opposed to a Biblical - sense.
A logical consequence of this is a performance that's neither perfunctory nor devoid of emotion. It knows where it's going. It bases one event on foreknowledge of what happens next. As a result there is a certain businesslike feel though it’s never perfunctory.

Wo wir schon bei Liedern sind: 1736 wurde im Katalog zur Frankfurter und Leipziger Ostermesse folgende Neuheit angezeigt: »Musicalisches Gesangbuch von 950 auserlesenen geistl. Liedern und Arien. Die unbekandten Melodien sind von Herrn Capellmeister Bach entweder neu verfertigt, oder nach Befinden verbessert und so dann sauber in Kupffer gestochen worden.«

When this set appeared it pushed all the other recorded versions of Giulio Cesare aside, and now, examining it again and even finding some things to argue with, it maintains that supreme position. The opera is given complete and all the roles are sung in their original octaves (no bass-baritone Caesar, for instance). René Jacobs' tempos are ideal for each dramatic situation, and if the recitatives have a formality that slows them down somewhat, well, we are dealing with Caesar, Cleopatra, and very grand historic deeds. Both orchestra and singers embellish their written lines, and from this vantage point, those embellishments seem very tame–but they're still welcome, highly musical, and apt.

As you might expect, Herreweghe's account of the Christmas Oratorio is as authoritative as any. His orchestra and choir are lively but always precise and his soloists all excel. Most impressively, Herreweghe is able to marshal his impressive forces to create a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. The Christmas Oratorio isn't the most coherent of Bach's works, but Herreweghe brings it all together, not so much by imposing architecture as by maintaining the flow of the music and not letting any single movement stand out too much from its surroundings.

For quality of soloists, this disc ranks top dog… exquisite. Padmore s opening recitative arioso uses silence more eloquently than any other recording I ve heard, while limpid beauty of Scholl s Countertenor voice combined with the subtlety of his interpretation makes the simplest melodies the most eloquent.

–Berta Joncus