Texte paru dans: / Appeared in:

 
Fanfare Magazine: 39:2 (11-12/2015) 
Pour s'abonner / Subscription information
Les abonnés à Fanfare Magazine ont accès aux archives du magazine sur internet.
Subscribers to Fanfare Magazine have access to the archives of the magazine on the net.


Proprius
PRCD2065




Code-barres / Barcode : 0822359020658

 

Outil de traduction ~ (Très approximatif)
Translator tool (Very approximate)
 

Reviewer: James A. Altena

 

For me—and I suspect I am not alone in this—Bach’s St. John Passion, sterling masterpiece though it is, has generally dwelt under the shadow of the even mightier St. Matthew Passion. This truly astonishing performance banishes all such conceptions; bursting like Athena from the forehead of Zeus, it presents the St. John Passion as an extraordinary vivid and engrossing drama. The manifold strengths of this rendition are such as to leave one almost at a loss where to begin, but the vocal ensemble is as good a starting point as any. The choir of S:t Jacobs Church in Stockholm (and, yes, the peculiar orthography here is not a misprint) has performed the work every year since 1949, and lives and breathes the score as second nature. Its members—here, 10 sopranos, seven altos, nine tenors, and seven basses—have immaculate intonation, balance, diction, and phrasing, and most importantly of all, palpable involvement and commitment to the work as living drama. To cite just one example, the line “Jesum! Jesum! Jesum von Nazareth!” is not just an insistent identification of the sacrificial victim but a cry of savage bloodlust.

Next, there are the soloists, particularly the nonpareil performances of Mikael Stenbaek as the Evangelist and tenor soloist, and Håken Ekenäs as Jesus and for the bass aria “Eilt, ihr angefocht’nen Seelen.” This is quite simply the finest such duo in this work I have ever heard. Stenbaek has a voice that rivals even Fritz Wunderlich for sheer beauty, and exceeds him in this role for interpretive expressiveness and subtlety. Similarly, Ekenäs wields a rich, full bass that imparts a gravitas to his Christus that so notable an interpreter as Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau does not match, and yields nothing to the immortal German baritone in knowing inflection of the text. Indeed their degree of excellence is such that it is, comparatively speaking, a step downward to say that the other three soloists are merely very good and able to hold their own against counterparts in virtually all other recordings. Soprano Jeanette Köhn sings sweetly and expressively; the only thing she lacks is a distinctive timbre to set her apart from numerous other sopranos of a similar caliber. Male alto Mikael Bellini is vocally not on the exalted level of Andreas Scholl (and short of that I prefer female altos in Baroque music) but nevertheless sings with deep feeling. Bass Lars Johanssen has a less refulgent voice in his two arias and comprimario roles than does Ekenäs, but he is quite fine and the noticeable difference between them is most helpful for following the music without text in hand.

Finally there are the contributions of the instrumentalists and conductor Gary Graden. Founded in 1998, REbaroque (again, the off-kilter orthography is correct) is, at least in this recording, a one-performer-per-part ensemble, with a single player each on first and second violin, viola, cello, viola da gamba, double bass, bassoon, lute, and keyboard (organ and harpsichord), and pairs of flutes and oboes for the divided parts for those instruments. While I personally would prefer two or three per part for the violins and violas, I have no quarrel with the superlative results attained here for balance between instrumental and vocal forces; indeed, the bass line has an astounding power and depth that belies the small number of players producing it, and the lutenist in particular brings a rollicking energy to the continuo line that reminds one of a country bluegrass ensemble. Indeed, it is in good part because this performance is constructed from the ground up with special stress on the continuo line, instead of from the top down with a traditional emphasis on the melodic line, that it is so effective.

But what makes this group truly special is its remarkable interpretive expressiveness. For example, I customarily look to the instrumental opening of the introductory chorus “Herr, unser Herrscher” to establish a sense of roiling turmoil, symbolizing the profound conflict of good vs. evil about to unfold. Here, however, a surging swell of the bass notes, overlaid with the piercing tang of Baroque oboes, instead effectively characterizes it as a funeral dirge with lamentation. Another point that rivets one’s attention occurs at the line of recitative where Peter draws his sword and cuts off the ear of Malchus, the high priest’s servant. Right after the word “Schwert” (sword), the instrumentalists play a discord with a cutting edge as sharp as a metal blade. I’ve never heard that effect before, so I went back and listened to several other recordings at that point; the chord is there as well, but no-one else makes anything of it, as is done here and as Bach surely intended. At yet another juncture, at the line where Pontius Pilate hands Jesus over to be crucified, the bass line surges forward, playing a sustained note on the bass with a rasping edge so painful that could almost saw through flesh; that is succeeded by a tense interval of silence, and then the aria “Betrachte, meine Seel” begins with an almost unbearable sense of sweet sadness and devastating repose. I could continue to multiply such instances, but I trust I have made my point clear. This is no ordinary job of conducting; such results occur only when a first-rate musical mind applies itself to a score with complete understanding of the composer’s intentions, total dedication to their realization, and a vivid imagination for how to do so.

The sound quality is stupendous even by digital recording standards. Meticulous care has gone into the physical preparation of this set. A booklet comprising a trilingual German/Swedish/English libretto, bilingual Swedish/English essays and artist bios, a table of contents with track listings (but not individual track timings, my one complaint), and photos, plus a separate digipak containing the two CDs, are housed in an outer clamshell box. The single cover photo used for that outer box and its contents is simple yet unusually attractive. Miracle of miracles, for once the work is sensibly divided, with all of Part I on the first CD and all of Part II on the second, instead of splitting Part II in order to get two discs of more or less equal timing. The more I listen to this set, the more I marvel at it. This set has rightly earned a slot on my 2015 Want List, and should likewise win a place in your collection as well; highest possible recommendation.


Fermer la fenêtre/Close window
 

 

Cliquez l'un ou l'autre bouton pour découvrir bien d'autres critiques de CD
 Click either button for many other reviews