Amongst several delightful examples of mid- and late-baroque German solo cantatas included here, one stands out as a little masterpiece. It's a lamentation by Johann Christoph Bach, the leading composer of the Bach dynasty before Johann Sebastian. I cannot imagine any listener to be capable of hearing this music without in some way being affected by its poignancy. This member of the family, born in 1642, was able to express himself in music which ranges from profound melancholy to fierce, exhuberant spiritual affirmation and this was demonstrated recently in remarkable performances of his music by Cologne Musica Antiqua directed by Reinhard Goebel (Archiv Produktion 419 253-1AH2; ( 419 253-2AH2, 2/87). The aria recorded here, Ach, dass ich Wassers g'nug hatte, is scored for alto voice with a string accompaniment of violin and three bass viols and here a continuo of bass viol, violone, theorbo and organ. The performance realizes the pathos of the piece and for once I felt that some of Rene Jacobs's vocal mannerisms were apposite.
Jacobs is not always so comfortable in Telemann's cantata, Ach Herr, strafe mich nicht (''Ah Lord, punish me not''), the vocal line lies uncomfortably high for him and his tone is pinched at the uppermost reaches of his tessitura; and that being so he is all too inclined to swoop about from interval to interval. Where Telemann is being more considerate towards his vocalist Jacobs is often persuasive, uncovering nuances in both text and music. The high-lying vocal register of so many of Telemann's cantatas for alto leads one to question the sort of voice for which he was writing and since many of these solo cantatas were not written for church performance it seems at least possible that he had women's voices in mind. Jacobs never really gets the measure of this work though the performance generates an enormous amount of interest simply through the imaginative and affecting playing of the Kuijken Consort. There are, of course, some beautiful moments from Jacobs, too, as for instance in the arias ''Denn im Tode'' and ''Ich bin so m de von Seufzen''. For the other Telemann cantata, Ihr Volker, hort (''Hear ye, people, how God speaks anew'') Jacobs is joined by the Parnassus Ensemble, consisting of flute, cello and harpsichord. His singing sounds under stricter control here and I was interested to note that this work was recorded many months later than the remainder of the programme. It is an attractive cantata and probably the least unfamiliar item included in the re ital. There are a few weak moments vocally, but otherwise this is a polished and sympathetic performance.
The Buxtehude pieces are variable in the degree of conviction with which they are interpreted. Jacobs is uneven in the expressive aria written on the death of the composer's father, Muss der Tod denn nun doch trennen. He sustains his voice unsteadily, though there are some lovely sounds from him in the low notes of his range. The throbbing accompaniment of bass viols and continuo is beautifully controlled, both here and in the other Buxtehude work, the cantata Jubilate Domino. The Italian influence is strong both vocally and instrumentally, and all the artists negotiate their florid passages with assurance and stylistic fluency.
Something of a mixed bag, then, but the disc is well worth exploring. It's cleanly recorded and the music is never less than interesting. Presentation is below average, however, with no translations of the German texts.'