This Bach triptych represents a major consolidation of recorded material, most of it previously languishing on the furthest shelf of the EMI back-catalogue. There have been occasional glimpses, such as a 1990 release of Schwarzkopf's 'Unpublished Recordings' (12/90 - nla), but tantalisingly it included only a few rehearsal tracks of Karajan's 1950 Bachfest performances of the B minor Mass in Vienna, and not the sui generis recording from 1952-3. Here, quaintly, the decision was made to record the solo numbers in London with the Philharmonia and the choruses in Vienna with the aristocratic Singverein and the local band. While the recording was dubbed by one critic 'a tale of two cities', the musical effect is surprisingly cohesive: such was Karajan's singularity of purpose, and he clearly conveyed it consistently to all parties.
This is a performance which challenges all preconceptions about monumentalism in Bach (paradoxically, subsequent decades were far more susceptible to what we now regard as ante-diluvian in scale). How prescient are the clear-textured counterpoints in the choruses (apart from the first fugal Kyrie which is a rather saccharine, hallowed hush), the snappy tempos, the light articulation and lean accompaniments. Karajan sounds almost like an 'authenticist' manque in the thrilling momentum of the 'et expecto' and yet there are distinctive qualities, too, like the regal procession of the Sanctus and Schwarzkopf's dignified circumspection in the Laudamus. Gedda's Benedictus is a masterly reading. So, too, the additional tracks from 1950 in which Ferrier's reverential Agnus Dei is a beautiful bonus.
The finest singers of the last century were not necessarily natural Bachians though Schwarzkopf and Fischer-Dieskau - two giants with the ideal blend of musical sensibility and vocal capability - set new standards in Bach singing. The compilation of Schwarzkopf's solo Bach recordings, taken from 1946-58, confirms just how immaculately 'set' was her voice at both ends of the spectrum: from 1946, the vignette, 'Sheep may safely graze', shimmers, effortlessly caressed. But she is no less entrancing in a reading, under Thurston Dart, of Mein Herze schwimmt im Blut (Cantata No 199) from 1958; other than Barbara Bonney's delectable account 30 years later for Harnoncourt (Teldec, 5/90), there are few to challenge its contemplative nobility (one recalls the dreamy curvature of her Countess in Capriccio, finished a couple of months earlier). As Alan Blyth acutely observes in his notes, this is 'singing qua singing on the highest level of achievement', a judgement endorsed by a live performance of the Wedding Cantata, No 202, under Otto Klemperer with a sensuous Concertgebouw. Here, Schwarzkopf is well-nigh technically perfect - she reckoned it was her best recorded Bach - displaying, among other things, an unwavering pitch and seamless control of line. If there is a misgiving, then it concerns a certain resistance to warmth of tone, the absence of ethereal hovering which emanates from the soul of the text, not just the sensibility of the moment; she gravitates to an epic insuperability and therefore yields less often to pliancy, or the free-breathing bravura of Teresa Stich-Randall, as in the case of No 51 for Prohaska (Vanguard, 10/94) and the endearing openness of Agnes Giebel in 'My heart ever faithful' for Werner (Erato, 6/96) ; in the first movement of 'Jauchzet' and the last aria of the Wedding Cantata, one notices that occasional feisty, clucking characterisation from Schwarzkopf, which keeps you at arm's length.
Fischer-Dieskau fans will know just how precious is this current reissue of arias and chorales from 1958, very much a vintage period for him; one is reminded instantly of his contribution to Richter's St Matthew Passion from later in the summer of that year; the prayerful incandescence and soft-grained immediacy he brings to 'Mache dich' is, arguably, one of his golden five minutes. Much of that inimitable generosity of expression is recognisable here in tautly 'themed' arias and chorales (namely, the confluence of death and salvation) with Karl Forster directing the Berlin Philharmonic. 'Meine Seufzer' from No 13 is poignant and involved, and a devotional, free-breathed account of 'Es ist vollbracht' (No 159) includes the most imploring oboe playing from Lothar Koch, rivalling only Richter's Edgar Shann for disarming obbligato playing from that period. Fischer-Dieskau's later performances of Bach were too often mannered affairs, over-exaggerated (there is some of that in the two short cantatas recorded here from later on) and even comical at times, but the Forster tracks reveal the flexible, light, unforced sound - the sort you want to touch, gather and bottle for ever - which engages so profoundly with Bach's spiritual essence. All told, an astonishingly rich and important remastering project, packed with musical revelations.'