Bach: Brandenburg Concertos (CD review)

Isabelle Faust, violin; Antoine Tamestit, viola; Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902686.87.

By Bill Heck and John J. Puccio

The Album According to Bill:
The six concertos known today as the Brandenburg Concertos (hereinafter the Brandenburgs) have a long and rather complicated history, both in their genesis and with their loss after Bach’s death and their rediscovery some 100 years later. Some of that history is described in the interesting liner notes for this new release; far more detail can be found with a bit of searching on the Internet.

For our purposes, though, it will be sufficient to note a couple of points. First, the Brandenburgs do not share a truly common heritage. Those unfamiliar with the works (are there any such classical music listeners?) or those who have heard them and have been wondering how they fit together, can take heart: they don’t fit together. The instrumentation differs from work to work, the compositional techniques vary, they do not have unifying themes such as a cycle of keys, some seem to have developed from earlier sketches while others have no obvious history, and so on. The unifying factor seems to have been that they all were sent, or perhaps presented by Bach, to the Margrave of Brandenburg (hence the name of the collection) as something in the nature of a job application in late March of 1721.

I should emphasize the difference in instrumental forces among the concertos: by my count, the First employs 20 musicians, while the Sixth requires only 7! Moreover, different instruments enter the mix in different concertos. For example, the Second and Fourth include parts for recorder, while the Fifth uses a flute; the remaining pieces use neither. Similarly, the oboe makes an appearance in the First (in fact, three oboes) and Second (only one oboe this time) and in none of the others. Even the harpsichord, so common in music of the era, shows up in only five of the six works. If you have wondered why the Concertos sound so different from each other, wonder no more.

Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, the Brandenburgs are among the best known and best loved of Bach’s works. While a huge variety of pieces for solo instruments are revered among musicians (think Violin Sonatas, the Cello Suites, works for organ, Goldberg Variations, etc.), and loads of pieces for larger ensembles are wonderful and reasonably popular (the English Suites, the French Suites, etc.), none of these have anywhere near the instant recognizability with the wider public as do the Brandenburgs. Why is that? Who knows? In some parallel universe, perhaps the Brandenburgs are of interest primarily to scholars while a collection of orchestral suites is heard everywhere.

Be that as it may, both the popularity of the Brandenburgs and their inherent musical value have brought forth an incredible number of recordings. These recordings variously use modern instruments and period instruments, with some transcriptions for completely different instruments. For example, an Internet search of a few seconds revealed arrangements of one or the other of these works for solo piano, for guitar, and for brass quintet. It would not be surprising to learn that one or more has been arranged for marching band or, for that matter, kazoo band.

Which brings us to another point of interest: Bach’s music (usually) survives such rearrangements and reinterpretations; indeed, they sometimes (often?) offer insights and perspectives that differ from, but seem as valid as, the originals. And that, in turn, brings us to the question of period versus modern instruments. The issue is not so much whether the work is somehow “better” on period instruments, with playing informed by period practices, supposed or real. Instead, and to my mind particularly with Bach, historically informed performances (HIPs, and yes, that is a real acronym) will offer new perspectives in somewhat the same way that transcriptions do. Naturally, HIP advocates will object that I have said this completely backwards: the HIPs are the base, and at best we can hope that modern performances are the ones that offer different perspectives, to which I respond with that truly intellectual slogan “Whatever.” The point is that, even if you have one or several favorite recordings done to modern standards on modern instruments, and even if you have doubts about the wonders of HIP in general, you really should hear one or more HIPs of the Brandenburgs.

Which brings us to the Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin, hereinafter the Akademie. This is a well-known ensemble that has been around since 1982 and consists of about 30 musicians. As the name implies, the group is oriented toward HIPs, and the members do play period instruments or, in many cases, copies thereof. That latter can be a good thing: while instruments like Stradivarius violins get the headlines and still sound fabulous, a lot of “real” period instruments that are still around either were not all that well made in the first place or are the worse for wear. Many of the instruments used in these recordings were modern copies, not originals and, as the liner notes point out, these instruments often do sound better than the originals.

The Akademie recorded these same works for the same label 25 years ago on a critically well-received two-disk set, one that was for many years my own go-to version. While the years have brought changes, perhaps one third of the personnel credited on the earlier release are still around for the newer one. Considering the passage of about 25 years, the better part of a musical career at this level, between the two sets of recordings, that strikes me as impressive continuity. For this recording, the permanent ensemble forces are joined by star violinist Isabelle Faust and violist Antoine Tamestit. So, do the results justify another shot?

I think so, for two reasons. First, the main criticism that I”ve seen of the first effort is that the playing is impeccable, but perhaps a little too impeccable. Some listeners heard a certain lack of spontaneity or passion: all the notes in the right places, but in the end not as exciting as one would hope. While the music here should not be exciting in the manner of a full-blown romantic concerto, some thought that Bach’s music should generate a little more sense of energy than present on that first go-round. Whatever the merits of that criticism, any doubts should be removed by this newer set. The differences in playing are not huge, but most of the tempi are a little faster and there’s just a little more sprightliness, for want of a better word, in the playing. Again, this is a subtle effect, perhaps not noticeable on first hearing, but I found myself listening a little more eagerly, a little more attentively to the new set.

Speaking of energy, I should note that the tempi are quicker than many other versions, including the earlier Akademie set. Somewhat surprisingly, though, they never sounding rushed. This is particularly noticeable in the Third: the opening movement is quick, but the allegro third movement bursts out of the gate at an amazing clip. It seems even faster than it is because it follows a very sedate, very short (16 second!) adagio. Nevertheless, the tempi feel right, and the players are very much up to the task of keeping it together.

The second reason that justifies this new release in the presence of the older one is the upgrade in sound, particularly in clarity. It’s a little easier to hear individual parts, even though the newer version may have been recorded in a slightly more reverberant environment. How much of this is due to the musicians (instruments, intentional balances, even positioning of the players) and how much is due to improved recording technique is hard to tell. But I find the presentation on the new disks a little clearer, a little more spacious, than that on the old.

And how does this recording measure up against the best other versions out there? With so many versions and variations available, I certainly am not going to start a discussion about the “best.” But to my ears, these are top-rank performances in very good sound, surely somewhere in the top tier of HIPs. I don’t see how you could go wrong with this set.

BH

The Album According to John:
The first set of Brandenburg Concertos I remember hearing on period instruments was a 1976 Seon production with what must be considered an all-star cast: Gustav Leonhardt, Frans Bruggen, Anner Bylsma, Lucy van Dael, Sigswald and Wieland Kuijken, and others. Their performances seem almost quaint by today’s standards, but they are still charming and the recording is exceptionally good. I mention this because that old set makes an interesting comparison to this new period-instrument production from the Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin, with violinist Isabelle Faust and violist Antoine Tamestit.

Much has changed in the world of historically informed performance practice since 1976, especially in terms of tempi. That is no more in evidence than in this second of the Akademie’s recordings of the set (their first was in the late nineties). I have always liked the Akademie and their HIP performances, but here they may have taken things a tad too far. While the Akademie’s faster tempos in some of the concertos may seem initially quite exhilarating, they tend eventually to tire one out. They aren’t so fast as to be objectionable, mind you, but they do sort of suck the life out of some of the music in the long haul. And yet...and here’s the odd thing...while the Akademie play much of the concertos at a healthy clip, they also manage to sound quite elegant. It’s something listeners may find either pleasantly refreshing or a tad disconcerting.

Moving along, you probably know by now that Bach’s six Brandenburg Concertos sound different from one another because the composer never meant them to be a single, unified group. In 1719 Margrave Christian Ludwig of Brandenburg commissioned Bach to write several musical works for him, and what he got (several years later) was a collection of concertos for various-sized ensembles and solo instruments that Bach had probably written earlier for other occasions. (It was not uncommon in those days for composers to borrow from one another and even from themselves.)

The Concerto No. 1 is among the longest of the concertos, and Bach arranged it for the biggest number of players. In the Akademie’s performance, the second-movement Adagio comes off sweetly. The third movement nicely integrates the soloists and accompaniment, and the work ends with a refined minuet. Still, things seemed a touch rushed to me overall.

Concerto No. 2 is among the most popular of the concertos and highlights the oboe, recorder, violin, and trumpet, the latter getting the lion’s share of attention. On some recordings the trumpet can be too bright, edgy, or forward, but here it sounds just right. The interaction of the soloists is delightful, and if the rest of the accompaniment seems merely perfunctory, well, that’s Bach’s doing, not the Akademie’s. Regardless, the piece comes off with a quick-paced, stylish, yet graceful charm.

Insofar as I can tell, Concerto No. 3 is as popular as No. 2, maybe even more so; therefore, it’s equally probable that listeners may have certain expectations for it. Certainly, the Akademie attacks the piece with vigor, but I’m not sure their enthusiasm is entirely well guided. I suspect it’s just that I am used to a more moderate approach even from a HIP performance, say that of Trevor Pinnock in the second of his recordings of the Brandenburgs (Avie), an interpretation that is warmly affectionate rather than quite so gung-ho. Whatever, let’s just say the Akademie’s reading is invigorating.

For me, No. 4 is the most playful of the Concertos, with the soloists darting in and out of the work’s structure. For some reason, it always reminds me of children’s music, like Leopold Mozart’s Toy Symphony or something. Whatever, the recorders are the stars of the show. The Akademie do it up in fine style, this time not rushing through anything and adding an impish charm to the proceedings. The audio is also among the best on the set, possibly given the smaller ensemble size. Whatever, it was my favorite performance of any in the set.
 
Concerto No. 5 as another one of my preferred concertos, highlighting as it does solos from the violin, flute, and harpsichord. Also, because it involves a relatively small ensemble, it ensures a greater clarity of sound than the other concertos. What’s more, it’s here, maybe for the first time ever, that a composer lets the harpsichord gets its day in the sun, not merely accompanying the other instruments but playing an equal part in the proceedings. Here, too the intimacy of the smaller group makes for a lovely rendition, and the playing of the Akademie is quite secure, the harpsichord certainly. I loved what the group did with both Nos. 4 and 5.

Finally, there’s Concerto No. 6, which uses the smallest ensemble, yet never seems to feel small. Its only real drawback is its melodic similarity to Concerto No. 3 and its consequent lack of much real distinctiveness. Nevertheless, it’s hard for one seriously to dislike it, particularly in the lively yet tasteful manner the Akademie approach it.

Producer Florian B. Schmidt and sound engineer Aki Matusch recorded the music at Médiapôle Saint-Césaire, Arles, France in March and May 2021. There is enough hall resonance (sometimes too much) to make even the smaller ensembles sound big, which can produce a pleasing, even soothing effect but does tend to obscure some inner detailing in the larger ensemble pieces like Nos. 1, 2, and 3. The sound is also slightly warm and soft, so ultimate transparency in the larger pieces is sometimes sacrificed for a more natural listening experience. Nevertheless, these are quibbles, and it was good to hear the sound getting better and better as the set proceeded.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For more than 20 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2022 Accord EX-L Hybrid I stream music from my phone through its adequate but not outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through the phone into a Vizio soundbar system that has tolerably nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence. And finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technology that enables us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

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"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa