Of the two Bach oratorios on this generously filled disc, it is the Easter Oratorio which is the least performed today, probably on the grounds that it has a tortuously involved history (explained untortuously by NA in his note) and does not quite fulfil traditional expectations of what constitutes an oratorio: no grand proportions like Christmas (though one might also argue the extent to which that series of tableaux conforms to the medium), no biblical text like the compact Ascension Oratorio or indeed named 'personae' as in the Passions. One might assume, moreover, that the greatest feast in the Christian calendar should have goaded Bach to a more extended effort than an average-sized cantata, but we must surely accept that Bach knew best if and when to incorporate narrative elements in his sacred music. The flexible manner in which he thought of the oratorio as a genre is clearly revealed throughout his sacred oeuvre: for instance, the moving exchanges between Jesus and Soul in the cantata, Ich hatte viel Bekummernis (No. 21), are distinctly oratorian, whilst the lost original version of the Easter Oratorio of 1725 may well have existed with dramatis personae although still termed a cantata!
All that aside, we are left with a work of customary Bachian brilliance in the quality of individual movements, even if the whole is not entirely satisfying. It does, however, carry a unique flavour and one with which Leonhardt clearly feels a close affinity. This is evident in the way he handles the exuberant Sinfonia with knowing and stately bravura, gently nudging the dance-inspired meter with subtle accentuation, also providing copious insights into the phrasing of the wonderful wind dialogues—all played with fastidious clarity and elan by the OAE. Whilst this movement sparkles, Leonhardt (or rather the oboist, Anthony Robson) gives more flesh to the subsequent Adagio; this is splendidly vocalized playing.
As for the singing both here and in the Ascension Oratorio I am less inclined to enthuse. The chorus is fairly streamlined by non-Parrott standards and although the quality of singing goes without saying, I miss the rich timbral variety of Herreweghe's Collegium Vocale, who bring greater breadth to Bach's choruses in the second work, despite a less convincing recorded sound. If Herreweghe appears to push the tempos in these movements, Leonhardt is inclined to rest on his laurels with a distinctly laid-back approach which, whilst typically graceful, leaves me yearning for Karl Richter's dazzling excitement in an otherwise uneven account (Archiv Produktion, 7/94). The soloists on this latest recording are variable. Only Ralf Popken in ''Saget, saget mir'' gives me cause for celebration. Christoph Pregardien is a disappointment and certainly not at his best in ''Sanfte soll mein Todeskummer'' from the Easter Oratorio, where his voice sounds remarkably colourless and flat. Monika Frimmer, too, struggles to find a 'gracious countenance' to accompany her Ascension aria, ''Jesu, deine Gnadenblicke''.
So where does that leave us? Despite some misgivings, Leonhardt's perceptive performances will always win friends and his recording of the Easter Oratorio still appeals more than its competitors, including Andrew Parrott's shapely if comparatively emaciated version (maximum of nine singers, usually less). As for the Ascension Oratorio, I would plumb marginally for Herreweghe's on account of some exceptional solo singing (no one here approaches Catherine Patriasz's superb contribution and Barbara Schlick is also outstanding) but Leonhardt is still a front-runner and this recording certainly has its revelatory moments.'