Bach: Höchsterwünschtes Freudenfest, BWV 194; Ihr Tore zu Zion, BWV 119
Yoshie Hida, Yukari Nonoshita, sopranos; Kirsten Sollek-Avella, alto; Makoto Sakurada, tenor; Jochen Kupfer, Peter Kooij, basses; Bach Collegium Japan; Masaaki Suzuki, conductor.
BIS CD-1111. Recorded September 2000, Kobe Shoin Women’s University Chapel. Booklet notes. CD, 74:00.
Suzuki’s Bach cantata cycle has become—what shall we call it?—a phenomenon of steady accumulation. Volume 16 arrives with two festive Leipzig works, both occasional pieces that Bach threw off with that terrifying facility of his, and both receiving performances of exceptional clarity and purpose.
The forces are modest: twelve singers for BWV 194, sixteen for BWV 119. This isn’t some ideological stance about “authenticity“—a word that has caused more mischief in early music circles than I care to enumerate—but rather a practical solution that allows the complex contrapuntal writing to emerge with remarkable transparency. The Kobe acoustic, captured in September 2000, provides just enough resonance without the cathedral muddiness that plagues so many Bach recordings.
BWV 194, Höchsterwünschtes Freudenfest, celebrates the Störmthal church dedication. Thirty-eight minutes of music for a country church opening—only Bach would conceive something this ambitious. The work unfolds without solo organ, which initially seems perverse for an organ inauguration until you realize the entire church, not just its instrument, was being consecrated. Bach’s autograph makes this clear.
The opening chorus establishes the festive tone immediately, three oboes weaving through the string texture with that burnished sound Suzuki’s players consistently achieve. Baritone Jochen Kupfer—new to this series—brings a welcome darkness to “Was des Höchsten Glanz erfüllt.” His voice has weight without excessive vibrato, and he navigates the melismatic passages with uncommon ease. The oboes here function almost as co-soloists, their liquid phrases intertwining with the vocal line in that miraculous Bach manner where accompaniment and melody become indistinguishable.
Yukari Nonoshita faces more challenges. Her soprano has an appealing lightness—almost a silvery quality in the upper register—but “Hilf, Gott, dass es uns gelingt” exposes some imbalances. She occasionally disappears beneath the instrumental texture, then compensates by pushing into a fuller, darker register that doesn’t quite match her natural timbre. The extended soprano-bass duet demands nearly nine minutes of sustained concentration, and while Nonoshita manages the technical demands, one wishes for more vocal presence. Kupfer, to his credit, never overwhelms her.
BWV 119, Ihr Tore zu Zion, written for the 1723 council election, is the more substantial achievement here. The opening movement—a French overture transformed into choral architecture—displays Suzuki’s understanding of Bach’s structural thinking. Those initial dotted rhythms, pompous and ceremonial, give way to a fugal section where the sixteen-voice choir creates an impression of far greater numbers. The trombones and timpani add heft without bombast, a refined balance that many conductors miss entirely.
The two extended choral movements anchor this cantata. That opening section, just over five minutes, proves what small forces can accomplish when every line is audible. Listen to how the oboes emerge from the choral texture at measure 47—a moment of pure textural revelation. The later chorale, even longer at six minutes, builds with inexorable logic toward its final cadence.
Soprano Yoshie Hida and alto Kirsten Sollek-Avella handle their assignments with professional competence, though neither makes a particularly distinctive impression. Makoto Sakurada’s tenor remains reliable if slightly nasal, and Peter Kooij’s bass anchors the lower register with his customary authority. But really, the choral writing dominates this cantata, and Suzuki’s ensemble responds with disciplined fervor.
The engineering captures instrumental timbres with unusual fidelity—those oboes again, and the string section’s lean, focused sound. BIS provides characteristically thorough documentation, though someone should tell them the microscopic typeface serves no one’s interests. Reading the German texts requires either perfect vision or a magnifying glass.
These recordings continue to establish benchmarks. Not the only way to perform this music, certainly—I wouldn’t want to live in a world with only one Bach style—but a deeply considered, musically sophisticated approach that honors both the letter and spirit of these scores. Suzuki understands that festive doesn’t mean bombastic, that clarity serves expression rather than contradicting it.
Essential for anyone following this cycle. Recommended without reservation for those who aren’t.
