Helmuth Rilling's Bach cantata recordings have had a pretty raw deal in the UK from a marketing point of view. Rilling, the instigator of the series and the conductor of every single performance, began the enterprise in October 1969—six months ahead of his competitors, Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Gustav Leonhardt completing it in time for the Bach tercentenary celebrations in 1985. Perhaps I need hardly add that Nos. 15, 53, 141, 142 and 189 are not included since the music is not by Bach, and that No. 118 is a motet rather than a cantata. Since the project was launched the recordings have been shunted from pillar to post, appearing under the aegis of no fewer than four different companies: the Munich publishing company Claudius, the recording companies Erato (under licence) and Laudate and now, for the past decade or so, the Swiss-German music publishing house of Hanssler. The problem for British collectors in the early years was therefore not only that of trying to keep up with the vicissitudes incurred by constantly changing labels but that, apart from the Erato discs, they were virtually unobtainable in the UK.
1985 saw the release of the complete set on 100 LPs, available both separately and in a ten-box 'limited edition' with a book—not a booklet containing details of artists, instruments, durations, numbers of bars in each section of a cantata, key signatures, measures and, of course, precisely who sings and plays what. Full texts were provided in its 491 pages as well as a church calendar quaintly titled ''Through the year with Bach'', and an up-to-date chronology.
Now, what I have in front of me is the aforementioned complete set, gradually transferred to the CD format over a period of some five years. There are 69 discs in all, each of which comes with a booklet containing the German cantata texts with English translations undertaken specially for Rilling's project by E. Philip Ambrose. This is probably the first such attempt to do so since C. S. Terry's pioneering volume of 1926. Ambrose himself remarks, ''The intention behind these translations is to lead the reader, listener or performer back both to the original text and to Bach's interpretation of it. The translations maintain the metre of the original text and, wherever possible, the placement of words which are featured with special effect in the music. This often requires abandoning normal word order and means that the translations should be followed while reading the original text or listening to the performance of the cantata.''
What of the performances? To assess those fairly we must consider the aims of Rilling himself, whose interpretative outlook is far removed from that of his principal rivals, Harnoncourt and Leonhardt. Rilling sees his role, as he once put it, as ''creator of a synthesis between the 'historical' and 'romantic' approaches inside the spectrum of contemporary Bach interpretation''. It sounds better in German but we can see what he is driving at. Rilling assumes a thorough knowledge of Bach performance practice but firmly eschews the period-instrument path of Harnoncourt and Leonhardt. He is evidently in no way lured by the reconstructive element present in the recordings of the opposing camp, permitting himself that degree of interpretative licence which he believes clarifies and strengthens the meaning of a Bach cantata for the contemporary listener. In short, Rilling's approach to Bach is an emotional one, though in the later recordings he seems to have become more alert to the dangers incurred by exaggerated dynamics, over-large forces and indulgences which distort the structural and interpretative clarity of the music.
From all this we should infer that Rilling is not one to evade issues either of historical or practical importance. He has often defended his approach openly and sensibly. His preference for mixed-voice as opposed to all-male chorus, female soprano and alto soloists, and modern instruments is not one of mere commercial expediency, for Rilling believes that only with such forces as be has chosen can he satisfy the requirements of his artistic judgement. All this was widely dismissed in the white heat of the period-instrument 'authenticity' debate of the 1970s and 1980s as stylistically anachronistic, drearily conventional if not quite simply wrong. Yet it is interesting to recall that such viewpoints were not and are not held in Germany where leading Bach scholars such as Georg von Dadelsen and Alfred Durr have openly supported Rilling's approach and have given him much practical help in reaching decisions about performing practice. Von Dadelsen, furthermore, has been critical of the scholarly procedures adopted by both Harnoncourt and Leonhardt.
So now, at last, readers may judge these issues for themselves, for here, lined up imposingly on either side of me, are the protagonists: Rilling's army of 69 CDs versus the 60-strong CD unit of Harnoncourt and Leonhardt. The choir and orchestra who provide the mainstay of Rilling's performances are the Stuttgart Gachinger Kantorei and the Stuttgart Bach Collegium; only a very small number of cantatas are performed by other groups, notable among which are the Frankfurt Kantorei and the Wurttemberg Chamber Orchestra. The pool of solo vocalists, by contrast, is enormous and the consequently wide variety in approach and of vocal timbre is already providing and will increasingly become a fascinating document of singing. I counted 19 sopranos, from among whose contributions that of the late Arleen Auger is both substantial and impressive- 25 mezzos and contraltos, among them Marga Hoffgen, a doyenne of oratorio and cantata on disc, Helen Watts, Julia Hamari, Ann Murray, Carolyn Watkinson and Doris Soffel; 12 tenors, notably Peter Schreier, Kurt Equiluz, Theo Altmeyer and Rilling's regular tenors, Adalbert Kraus and Aldo Baldin and 11 baritones and basses, including Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Siegmund Nimsgern and Philippe Huttenlocher who, among others, appear when the stalwarts Wolfgang Schone and Walter Heldwein are either taking a well-earned rest or are otherwise unavailable.
When Rilling began his Bach cantata project it quickly became evident that he subscribed to the view, held by many of his South German predecessors such as Hans Grischkat and Fritz Werner that keyboard continuo support should be provided by a harpsichord at least as often as by an organ. For all sorts of practical reasons I, too, subscribe to this view, though the rival faction does not, generally, if not invariably, keeping to organ throughout as keyboard continuo. But I find an unwelcome imbalance in Rilling's deployment of the two instruments. Not only do I feel that the harpsichord plays too prominent a role in his performances of the cantatas but that the tiresomely over-ornate realizations quickly establish themselves as a major hindrance to our enjoyment of them. This aspect of his interpretation is especially pronounced in the earlier years of recording during the 1970s. And, notwithstanding Rilling's own remarks to the contrary, the performances of this period suffer, too, from layers of exaggerated dynamic expression, a willing handmaiden to his dreamy, inarticulate and rudderless legato. In an undertaking of these dimensions we might reasonably fear that, as it rolled towards completion, fatigue or at least a routine outlook would manifest itself. Not so, since without exception the later recordings in the series are superior to the earlier ones. Several factors have contributed to the increasing strength of Rilling's interpretations. The most important of them concern a consistently higher standard set by the soloists, the noticeably lighter, more clearly articulated bass fundament playing and the conductor's own inclination towards brisker tempos and more incisive phrasing. But sadly, the recitatives for the most part fail to convince, with their sustained notes in the string basso continuo and embellished harpsichord realizations, often of staggering audacity and which might reasonably be termed a 'Rillingism'.
Initially, my disappointment with the performances of the early years led me to suppose that I was embarking on a journey of abject misery with little or nothing to look forward to. Up to a point Rilling has proved me wrong for, though I shall ever remain unconvinced by his handling of recitative, there are other features, mainly determined by the vocal soloists, which are proving enjoyable. From among the many fine contributions of the sopranos and mezzos I must single out those of Arleen Auger and Doris Soffel respectively. Auger takes the lioness's share of the work in the later period of recording (c1979-84) with the three solo soprano cantatas, Jauchzet Gott (No. 51), Falsche Welt (No. 52) and Ich bin vergnugt (No. 84), as well as the soprano recitatives and arias in numerous other works. The presence of Doris Soffel, alas, is of a much more confined duration and her contributions, therefore, fewer, but she proves herself a Bach singer of merit in her superb performance of the aria ''Getrost! es fasst ein heiliger Leib'' (No. 133). Diction and intonation are well nigh faultless and her intuitive feeling for the music a revelation. This cantata as a whole, recorded in 1980, is one in which we find much that is most convincing in Rilling's direction: lively tempos, taut rhythmic control and effective choral discipline.
The alto solos in the cantatas seem to have posed greater problems for Rilling than those for soprano and this is perhaps reflected in the very large number of singers he engaged. The busiest of them are Helen Watts and Julia Hamari, both of whom make fine contributions. Watts is not always on her strongest form but at her best, as she is, for instance, in her evocatively drowsy ''Ach schlafrige Seele'' (No. 115), she could hardly be bettered. Hamari makes a favourable impression though I felt on occasion that the strength of her projection was disproportionate to the delicacy of the accompaniment; she takes the solo cantatas Widerstehe doch der Sunde (No. 54), Geist und Seele wird verwirret (No. 35) and Vergnugte Ruh', beliebte Seelenlust (No. 170). Carolyn Watkinson, though often convincing, as she is in the solo cantata Gott soll allein mein Herze haben (No. 169), and in the celebrated duet ''Wir eilen mit schwachen'' (from No. 78) which she shares with Auger, elsewhere disappoints by her use of too wide a vibrato, ''Hoch gelobter Gottes Sohn'' (from No. 6) is an example of what I mean. One other mezzo, Mechthild Georg, deserves mention for her clear, resonant voice with an appealing timbre, virtues which make her well-suited to the cantata repertoire. Her aria ''Ich will dich all mein Leben lang'' (from BWV117) is perhaps one of the high water-marks of the entire edition, but there are excellent contributions too, from Hildegard Laurich, Gabriele Schreckenbach and Ann Murray.
The solo tenors and baritones are fairly consistent in their achievement of high standards of performance. Some vocal timbres and interpretative styles are either more alluring or in other respects suit the music better than others, but there are few misfits to be found. Special praise should go to Adalbert Kraus, the tenor who appears in most of the cantatas and whose technique has acquired affecting stylistic nuances over the years. His singing of the arias ''Mein Jesus ist erstanden'' (from No. 67), ''Seht, was die Liebe tut!'' (No. 85) and, above all, the exacting ''Ach, schlage doch bald, selge Stunde'' (No. 95) is splendid, he also copes well with the vocally taxing solo tenor cantata, Ich armer Mensch (No. 55). Aldo Baldin, too, is an eloquent contributor to the tenor arias of the series and is notably effective in pieces such as ''Ich will leiden, ich will schweigen'' (from No. 87), an irresistible 12/8 number. The singing of Kurt Equiluz and Peter Schreier will be more familiar to readers. Equiluz appears frequently in the earlier recordings of the series, before he became so closely identified with the Harnoncourt/Leonhardt project, Schreier rather less so in a patch of recordings during 1981-82. Schreier is perhaps most effective in his arias ''Erholet euch, betrubte Sinnen'' (from No. 103) and ''Mich kann kein Zweifel storen'' (No. 108).
Busiest, by far, of the bass soloists is Wolfgang Schone who usually makes an authoritative contribution. Sometimes, as in the powerful recitative and aria from Herr Jesu Christ, wahr' Mensch und Gott (No. 127), he can be a little inflexible; but his ''Merkt und hort, ihr Menschenkinder'' (from No. 7), and ''Gewaltige stosst Gott vom Stuhl'' (No. 10)—a real bass aria as opposed to baritone—leave a formidable impression both on account of vocal resonance and strength of characterization. Philippe Huttenlocher gives a fine account of the stirring A major arioso ''Es werden Viele zu mir sagen'' (from No. 45)—though this cantata is virtually ruined by Rilling's lustreless, sponge-fingered handling of the great opening chorus—while Andreas Schmidt, a latecomer to the series, delightfully captures the strikingly galant gestures of ''Ruhmet Gottes Gut und Treu'' (from No. 195). The celebrated solo bass cantatas Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen (No. 56) and Ich habe genug (No. 82) are both given to Fischer-Dieskau. This is a pity since he has recorded both works at least once previously and, I'm forced to admit, more successfully, too. The opening of No. 56 is particularly laboured, a displeasing conjunction of bland sentiment with jerky emphasis which fails to illuminate either text or music. Why on earth were these cantatas not offered to a member of Rilling's regular team who have served him both loyally and, by-and-large, well?
The choral singing in Rilling's cantata cycle is usually dependable, sometimes good, but never outstanding. It sounds too large to my ears but, unlike Karl Richter's probably even larger Munich Bach Choir, is unable to project itself in a manner sufficiently accomplished to ameliorate the problem of size. Some choral movements do come over well, though, such as the opening choruses of Nos. 5, 79, 103, 115, 133 and 68 where Rilling heightens the lyricism of the music by treating the recurring appoggiaturas of the ritornello in the galant 'overlong' manner. In each of these choruses clear textures, incisive rhythms and effectively judged tempos result in performances of vitality; other opening choruses, alas, fail dismally. I have already cited the disastrous treatment meted out to that of No. 45. In No. 7 Rilling goes to the opposite extreme, minimalizing the effect of the gently lapping phrases by which Bach illustrates Christ's baptism in the River Jordan with inappositely extrovert gestures. Then there is Rilling's predilection for vast expanses of legato phrase which hopelessly trip up the choruses of Nos. 10 and 45, and as if this were not bad enough, they are then mercilessly trodden into the ground by a leaden-footed string continuo, thus sealing the fate of two splendid movements. It would seem to me furthermore, that Rilling misses the considerable subtlety of the orchestral sinfonia to No. 42, which is almost boisterous in this performance, and that the tempo of the poetic chorale-fantasia of No. 8 is so brisk that the piece is denuded of eloquence and the orchestra are barely able to keep up with him.
The instrumentalists in these cantatas are generally first-rate and, like the solo singers, are represented by more than one generation of performing tradition. Among the oldest and most distinguished of them is the viola da gamba player, August Wenzinger. He makes distinguished contributions with the violoncello piccolo obbligatos in Nos. 115, 180 and 183. Both Wenzinger and the recorder player, Hartmut Strebel, who also appears in this series, were frequent obbligatists in the South German-based Bach cantata recordings of the late Fritz Werner (recently reissued on Erato). Among the other players who make important contributions are the oboist Gunther Passin the flautist Peter-Lukas Graf, the violinist Werner Keltsch, the bassoonist Klaus Thunemann, the trumpeters Friedemann Immer and Rob Roy McGregor—I can't resist giving him a mention—and last but certainly not least the harpsichordist Martha Schuster.
If I have so far mentioned only en passant the Harnoncourt/Leonhardt Bach cantatas it is because they have been previously reviewed in some detail in these pages, first in their LP format and then in their CD transfers. Now Teldec have repackaged them once again, accommodating the series on to 60 discs with remastered sound. Altogether there are 10 boxes, each containing six discs and a skilfully and thoughtfully re-edited booklet. These boxes are available separately or in a slipcase with an additional hardback book containing all the precious essays that were omitted from the earlier transfers from LP to CD. At mid price Teldec's new package should be as juicy a carrot for new collectors as it may be a tasteless one for those who had not, as yet, completed their collection of the older 45 - volume issue (though that older issue will remain available).
This review concerns 129 CDs in all and so I feel I must try and provide some signposts that will be of use, above all to the general reader. Bach specialists will be familiar with the pros and cons and will probably want at least a representative selection from each of these two vast enterprises. My own bias inclines towards Harnoncourt and Leonhardt. They have drawn upon up-to-date scholarship in their attempt to realize Bach's intentions and to perform his music according to its own expressive and technical vocabulary. They are, in short, both musically and historically aware. They do not always convince, perhaps, and, excellent though some of their boy sopranos are, there are others who are inadequately equipped to make the most of Bach's expressive and technically exacting melodic line. Much the same can be said of the instrumental playing, too, with excellent obbligato contributions from string and woodwind playing, above all in the Vienna Concentus Musicus recordings, but with many less happy results from the brass department. Both directors use something approaching the size of forces which we assume—pace Joshua Rifkin—Bach had at his disposal in the Weimar and Leipzig of his day. Period instruments, all-male voices (with the exception of female soloists in Nos. 51 and 199) and scaled-down forces—these are three fundamental ways in which Harnoncourt and Leonhardt differ from Rilling. And another, of even greater importance, is the treatment of secco recitative where, unlike Rilling, they use the cello and organ to punctuate rather than to support and sustain the voice. Rilling is inconsistent where the cello is concerned, sometimes allowing it to sustain the bass notes as written—which it surely was not intended to do but regrettably consistent in the licence which he grants his harpsichordist to embellish and to sustain under the voice and at cadences.
In one respect, however, Rilling unequivocally scores over his rivals in that his cantata series really is complete, with performances of Nos. 190, 191 and 193, all of which are omitted from the other set for no apparent reason. Why, above all, omit No. 191? It has survived complete and though containing, almost throughout, music which Bach later used in the Gloria of the B minor Mass, it is nevertheless a cantata in its own right, albeit in Latin. With Nos. 190 and 193 the case is somewhat different since substantial editorial work is required for performance. In point of fact most of No. 190 has survived only the opening chorus and the chorale which follows it being incomplete. In 1948 Walter Reinhart made a plausible reconstruction of the missing instrumental parts of three movements and, indeed, the work has been convincingly performed and recorded on previous occasions. No. 193 is more problematic. Its opening chorus lacks vocal parts for tenor and bass and, since the same movement serves as a conclusion to the piece its incompleteness is further emphasized. Continuo parts for the soprano and alto recitatives are also lacking as well as parts, both vocal and instrumental, for a third recitative, perhaps for tenor. It may well have been that Bach also provided brass and timpani parts for the choruses but if so, these too have been lost. But Rilling has not been afraid to take the plunge where all these works are concerned. No. 191 comes over rather well—it's good to have it—while Nos. 190 and 193 have been reconstructed by Olivier Alain and Reinhold Kubik respectively.
Rilling's Bach cantatas are not among the avant-garde of baroque interpretation, nor has he got anything radically new to say about them. His interpretations are gentler and less rigid than those of Karl Richter became in later years and, perhaps, closely follow the tradition of Hans Grischat, Fritz Werner and other directors of a previous generation. That tradition has been somewhat out of favour in recent years but is now beginning to acquire new audiences who, because they are familiar with the stylish baroque practices of the moment are in a stronger position to accept the old on its own terms. Ideas about interpretation are constantly on the move but great artistry remains great artistry and in Rilling's cantata survey there are singers and players whose performances should certainly survive the passage of time. Harnoncourt and Leonhardt remain my first recommendation both artistically and economically but Rilling's set was a major contribution to the 300th anniversary of Bach's birth in 1985 and its appearance now on CD is welcome.'