After the four fine cantatas set to libretti by Leipzig poet Marianne von Ziegler in Vol 35, the rich vein continues in four more mature masterpieces. It is Ich werdet weinen which immediately arrests the listener – the first of Bach’s collaborations with von Ziegler – in a compelling performance.

This concise work (under 15 minutes) covers extraordinary ground as Bach relishes toying with the emotional roller-coaster ride of “ye shall weep…but the world will rejoice”, with tortured chromaticisms overlaying a springing dance rhythm, and accompanied by a spectacular flauto piccolo obbligato (played with élan by Dan Laurin). This is Suzuki at his best: unequivocal direction of line and beauty of conception, enhanced by Robin Blaze and James Gilchrist in irrepressible form.

There are many fine movements in the remaining three cantatas but none so consistently reaching those heights. Am Abend is a favourite for its glowingly contented da capo Sinfonia, afforded a somewhat perfunctory reading here. However, Blaze’s reading of the huge central aria, “Wo zwei und drei” (“when two or three are gathered together…”) is sumptuous. The poignant Es ist euch gut (which speaks of Christ’s valediction to his disciples) requires greater flexibility and emotional presence. As for the Passion-like resonances of Bleib bei uns, again, the pleading appoggiaturas and vocal lines don’t convey the “abiding” message. On to Vol 37 and we have the three cantatas from summer and autumn 1726, a time when the solo lyrical genre was at its most beguiling for Bach (both the great bass cantatas date from these months also), enhanced by intimate obbligato instrumental dialogues. In all these works, Bach employs a highly embellished organ, which Masaaki Suzuki delivers with authority. In Gott soll allein, he adorns the fine, mature siciliano “Stirb in mir” with a patient warmth around which the superimposed alto melody is lovingly wrapped.

If this cantata does not show Robin Blaze at his colourful best, his famous bloom and eloquence return in the substantial and profoundly evocative Vergnügte Ruh. The plangent and verdant melodic landscape of the opening aria (“Contented rest, beloved joy of the soul”) is crafted with the glowing, long-breathed generosity of Suzuki at his most comfortable. The central lament “Wie jammern” is afforded a starkly restless and graphic reading of “the hellish wiles”, and with the bold and cathartic performance of the final aria, this amounts to a reading of some substance.

A concerto allegro constitutes the opening movement of Geist und Seele, and Suzuki’s playing is again consistently attentive and interestingly registered. Witness more golden Blaze in the last cantata to cap a disc of especially committed and engaged performances – in a series whose quality shows no signs of letting up.