Plotting exactly which steps of the Bach Cantata Pilgrimage are to be retraced with each new release is akin to the random delights of a tombola. We can, however, line Vols 6 (this one) together with 7 and 8 on our shelves as Trinity cantatas, here for the 12th and 13th Sundays. As Gardiner says in his entertaining diary, presenting the cantatas in this way allows performers and listeners to perceive the ebb and flow of seasonal themes – penitence, supplication, joy, etc – as the liturgical calendar dictates.

Trinity works tend to be devoid of much cheer. So when the troupe arrived in Köthen with two Lobet den Herrns (with quite different texts), adrenalin spills over in thrilling performances. The Jakobskirche serves BWV69a better in a wonderful performance of urgent movement, virtuoso swagger and roulades of joy. Such clarity of purpose isn’t quite so obvious in the opening verse of Neander’s hymn in BWV137 (which is also marred by a “difficult” edit at 1'30").

The solo singing, especially in BWV35, is warm-hearted and generous. Alongside the brilliantly articulated organ obbligato playing of Ian Watson, alto Robin Tyson provides a supremely courageous and immediate series of telling arias. Peter Harvey’s characterful and nuanced reading of “Mein Erlöser” in BWV69a is a model of what can be achieved in one of Bach’s most elaborate and mesmerising movements.

From Frankfurt, the pick of the crop is the awe-inspiring, almost apocalyptic BWV77 (Du sollt Gott). Gardiner and his forces reach twin heights: here is a magisterial representation of the inscrutable law (of the Commandments) and a profound awareness of Bach’s colourful rhetoric sensibility – all infectiously illuminated in the “diary”. The no less fine BWV33 is notable for the atmospheric resignation of Nathalie Stutzmann’s “Wie furchtsam”, one of Bach’s great set-piece arias of human frailty in the face of God’s judgement. This is a volume to treasure on many counts.

Less engaging is a well intentioned but fairly uneventful disc of bass cantatas from Gotthold Schwartz. It is a voice of considerable body, yet soured by a tendency to flatness at its core (the B section of “Schlummert ein” in BWV82 is a case in point) and the cautious orchestral playing hardly allows the great “Ich will den Kreuzstab” to ripen until it’s almost too late.