I had seen Swiss bass Stephan MacLeod in the context of his appearances in the concerts of the J.S. Bach Stiftung St. Gallen before I discovered that he too is recording live as soloist and conductor his own complete series of Bach cantatas in his hometown with his ensemble Gli Angeli Genève. Out of curiosity I have decided to attend one of their concerts in the Temple de Saint-Gervais in Geneva.
The venue has quite resonant acoustics, and I reckon that a conductor less familiar with it would have had trouble making the right decisions in terms of forces, placement of musicians in the hall and choice of soloists. I cannot really say if the issue of style and interpretation and the hall is an egg and chicken situation. As it is, what the conductor does there makes sense in that space. He used a two voice per part chorus (one of which was the soloist) placed in front of the orchestra. When the sopranos carried the cantus firmus, they would step ahead of anyone else. Solo instruments played from the extreme left side of the “stage” (the concert master was already placed far right when she played an obligato part). Mr. MacLeod seems to prefer a warm orchestral sound and a markedly expressive approach to phrasing, where everybody is given enough time to highlight every little turn of phrase. There is enough time to breathe, to let sounds develop in the room without getting tangled, a no-no in this repertoire. One would hardly use the word “brilliant”, but most definitely “affectionate”.
The program this evening featured three “chorale” cantatas, i.e., based on traditional Lutheran hymns immediately recognized by a congregation used to sing them: BWV 3, Ach Gott, wie manches Herzeleid (1725), BWV 124, Meinem Jesu lass ich nicht (1725) and BWV 177, Ich ruf zu Dir, Herr Jesu Christ (1732)
The cantata BWV 3, arguable the most unusual item this evening, opens with a grandl noble yet not gloomy chorus embellished by the oboes d’amore, the text of which turns around how hard is the way to heaven, a theme recurrent in the two other works It follows a pattern often employed by Bach in “chorale” cantatas: one voice (here surprisingly the bass) carries the good old tune, while the others enrich the texture with derivations of the chorale material or even independent subject, here related to the music introduced by the oboes. The first movement is followed by a recitative/chorale marriage, where the chorus presents the chorale text, “freely” commented by each solo voice in Q&A style. The chorus still complains how tough it is to lead a devout life, while the soloists boost their motivation with catch phrases until the bass gives a longer tip: you’re never alone, for Jesus is always there to help you out. No wonder the bass is the first to get an aria in order to develop his thoughts a little bit further. It is a continuo-only movement with hallmark baroque contrasting imagery, which the singer is supposed to illustrate with the corresponding juxtaposition of sharply rhythmic phrases with occasional dissonances to depict the fear of hell and flowing coloratura as an example of heavenly joy. The confidence in Jesus is reinforced in the tenor recitative that leads to the cantata’s most famous number, the soprano/alto duet with oboes d’amore and violin, intertwining coloratura and noble harmony. It is the perfect soundtrack to cheerful spiritual serenity.
The BWV 124 shows Bach at his most straightforward. Right from the opening chorus, textual clarity takes pride of place, most of the complexity coming from the accompanying oboe d’amore, the ever flowing line of which maybe suggesting the idea that the faithful soul will never let go of the faith in Christ. This is again one of the cantatas around the idea that, even if one is willing to believe and lead a pious life, it is not as easy as it sounds. The tenor aria is about the fear of death (and what happens afterwards). Here Bach uses concitato-like repeated chords to show the fear and trembling and the whole atmosphere is rather tense. Release comes in the soprano/alto duet, in passepied rhythm and catching melisme. Everything is light and sprightly and uncomplicated. You don’t have to be particularly perceptive to realize that this is an advertisement of the joys of heaven.
The opening chorus of the BWV 177 is about asking God the strength to believe and to do good. That’s the pep talk. Without the motivational chorus, the story is a bit different in real life. In the alto aria, confidence is not the Schwerpunkt. The singer, accompanied by continuo only, has to deal with exposed and very long phrases, while saying “please don’t let me be mocked” and “if I depend only on my effort, I’ll end up regretting the whole thing”. The soprano aria shows improvement – God sends an oboe da caccia to boost enthusiasm. Now the tempo is dance-like, the atmosphere is soothing, the text goes for “help me keep in the good way if misfortune tries to lead me astray”. Bottom line – we’re on the right track. So far. The third and final aria, when the tenor is assisted not only by a violin but also by a bassoon (!), shows a cheerful atmosphere: God’s grace is not a reward for good behavior, you only have to believe in it and it will be there for you. The final chorale can sometimes feel a bit formulaic, but not here. The full orchestra and chorus come to affirm “I know you won’t abandon me”.
We first heard BWV 124. Here the atmosphere very different from what one hears in Masaaki Suzuki’s recording, in which everything is shown in almost surgical clarity, but rather in the mood of John Eliot Gardiner’s recording, albeit with lighter choral sound. I missed both Gardiner and Suzuki’s more theatrical depiction of the “trembling” chords in the tenor aria, though. BWV 3 opened to an emotional yet gracious almost in French style opening chorus. Here the mismatch between solo soprano and alto voices more evident than in the first item..
Right before the last item, Mr. MacLeod, together with his solo alto and both tenors, offered an exquisite a cappella rendition of the hymn related to Bach’s BWV 177. Here again the warm expressive performance may have lacked the last ounce of clarity, but again it made sense for the venue and played for the strengths of these musicians.
I had never heard soprano Alexandra Lewandowska before, and therefore I cannot tell if the idea was to emulate a boy soprano sound. If so, she did it quite well. However, when one hears a Magdalena Kozená sing the aria from the BWV 177 (in John Eliot Gardiner’s live recording) with superior intonation, ideal focus and core in her middle and lower registers, one tends to get spoiled. Alex Potter’s countertenor can be surprising rich and projecting, and – as much as in St. Gallen’s cathedral with the J. S. Bach Stiftung – carries very well in resonant rooms. He sang his coloratura with poise and delivered the text with clarity. Tenor Thomas Hobbs’s dulcet tenor is less angular and piercing than what you’d hear from a German tenor in this repertoire. The acoustics did not help him very much, yet he sang his arias with elegance and tonal variety. In his duties as the bass soloist. Mr. MacLeod sang richly and expressively, his voice only occasionally discoloring in its higher reaches.
I HEAR VOICES 
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