Beneath the Surface #9 - C.P.E. Bach on his 300th birthday

Composer: Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (Germany, 1714-1788)

Works: Cello Concertos; Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu; Magnificat; Württemberg Sonatas

Performers: Antonio Meneses (cello), Münchener Kammerorchestra; Soloists and Ex Tempore, La Petite Bande / Sigiswald Kuijken; Elizabeth Watts (soprano), RIAS Kammerchor & Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin / Hans-Christoph Rademann; Mahan Esfahani (harpsichord)

Labels: PAN Classics, Hyperion and Harmonia Mundi

Background and Critical Reception

Today is Bach's birthday. Not the great master Johann Sebastian, but his second son (and fifth child), Carl Philipp Emanuel, born three hundred years ago to the day.

Although understandably living in his father's shadow these days, C.P.E. has enjoyed a healthy resurgence in the last few decades, and recordings of his music are increasingly frequent. Getting the ball rolling were artists such as Ton Koopman, Gustav Leonhardt and Christopher Hogwood, who turned to his music as part of the 'period instrument' revival of the 1970s. But because C.P.E., like his father, was very prolific, there was still a lot of music unexplored.

One of the problems facing C.P.E. is that he does not fall into a recognisable category. Despite his birth year, he is emphatically not a composer of the Baroque period like his father, and although he died in 1788, three years before Mozart, he is not a composer of the Classical period either. This means he does not have a label, which should not be a problem – but it has held him back as people have struggled to fit him in.

More recently, though, his music has come into its own. There are indeed elements of both Baroque and Classical that can be heard, but there are also features peculiar only to C.P.E. himself. These are sometimes unpredictable, suggesting a short attention span on the part of the composer. Although C.P.E.’s music takes the on traditional forms of Concerto, Sonata and the emerging Symphony, he often moves in unpredictable directions, like he might in a 'Fantasia'. This introduces a really intriguing tension to his music, some of which is hyperactive and daring for its time, and some of which can take unexpected harmonic turns.

I chose four new discs to listen to this week – with Antonio Meneses playing and directing the three Cello Concertos, a reissue of Sigiswald Kuijken conducting the big oratorio Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu (The Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus), then a new disc on Harmonia Mundi conducted by Hans-Christoph Rademann recreating a concert from April 9, 1786, when C.P.E. conducted a charity concert in Hamburg. It begins with the Magnificat before moving on to Heilig (Te Deum Laudamus), a piece of which he wrote "It will be my swan song of this kind, and will serve to ensure I shall not soon be forgotten after my death". Finally the up and coming harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani played the Württemberg Sonatas.

Thoughts

It has been a fascinating week in the company of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach.

The Cello Concertos I was already familiar with, but it was good to be reminded just how good a work the A minor Concerto is, with its incredibly distinctive tune. Antonio Meneses plays it brilliantly, and the accompaniment from the Munich Chamber Orchestra is consistently crisp and vital. In the slow movement Meneses is lyrical but quite understated, and in the slow movement of the F major Concerto there is some really lovely high register playing from the cellist, faultless in his intonation.

Die Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt (The Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus) is a more imposing piece, right from the start and its rather ominous intro. The murmuring bass strings suggest the depiction of Chaos at the start of Haydn's The Creation – and indeed this piece could well have influenced the later composer's thinking. The light begins to pierce the darkness at the start of the first choral number, before some terrific rolling drums depict how 'Judea trembles!'

Later there is a heavenly duet between soprano and tenor, Vater deiner schwachen Kinder, singing of how 'O Love, which thou thyself did bewail, O how every tear softens thy so friendly heart!' The triumphant final number, while quite lengthy, is a joyful hymn of praise.

Like many eighteenth-century examples of the Magnificat, C.P.E.'s is in D major. It receives an excellent performance in the new recording from Hans-Christoph Rademann, with a lovely soprano solo in the second number (Quia respexit humilitatem) from Elizabeth Watts, whose voice floats above the strings. Yet the piece that really stopped me in my tracks was Helig ist Gott, for when the choir comes in time seems to stand still. This is the piece C.P.E. wanted to be remembered by, and it is especially notable because the choir sing very slowly, in contrast to the movement going on in the instrumental parts. It gets a wonderful performance here.

I do not readily warm to harpsichord music, but Mahan Esfahani is a performer I have enjoyed for a while now, and in C.P.E. Bach he is superb. His renditions always keep the principles of freedom that C.P.E.'s music thrives on, at times made known in a torrent of notes in the right hand, like a fantasia, or through a strange alignment of harmonies that hangs in the air, as it does in the first movement of the B minor sonata.

The start of the final movement of this piece was the nearest to Johann Sebastian's music I could imagine – which made me realise how little C.P.E.'s music does in fact sound like that of his father. In addition you could almost imagine a Beethoven sonata beginning in the way the last movement of the B flat major sonata does, hanging on a cadence.

Esfahani plays with great character, humour and imagination, especially enjoying the parts of C.P.E.'s music where improvised musical thought comes to the fore.

Verdict

Any of these four recordings do the music full justice, and champion the cause of an individual composer forging his path. So it's happy birthday to Carl Philipp Emmanuel, composer of some daring and original music for his time, even though that time does not have a name!

Further Listening

Hans-Christoph Rademann can be heard in the Magnificat and Helig ist Gott on Spotify here, while Antonio Meneses plays the Cello Concertos here.

Introducing Beneath the Surface

Second Lute Song (I) – Gloriana by Jane Mackay – her visual response to Benjamin Britten's music, used with many thanks to the artist. Her Sounding Art website can be found here.

As a new year starts I am taking up a musical resolution, alongside the other writing about pop and classical that I'm doing. This is to listen to and review one new album per week of music – mostly classical – that is not often heard.

There are several reasons for this, and most lie in the spirit of discovery. In my experience the classical music that gets the most exposure does so because of a big name artist, a big name composer, a major record label – or a combination of those three. And yet a look at a mail order company such as MDT confirms there are several hundred classical CDs released every month. Many of these do not receive much coverage even in the specialist press and websites.

While new recordings and performances of Beethoven symphonies are without question valid and welcome, they often take the spotlight away from some of classical music's deserving lesser lights. Some of these reward further investigation and should have a much greater presence!

So this is what Beneath the Surface is all about – discovering new music through new releases. This can be either the work of a new composer or an unfamiliar work from an established composer. Even Beethoven has his dark corners!

I aim to listen to one new release over the course of a week and then write about it. This year I would like to include some of those composers enjoying anniversary years, so you can expect the symphonies of Andrej Panufnik, born 100 years ago, some C.P.E. Bach and Gluck (both born 300 years ago) and even a bit of the Russian composer Liadov, who died 100 years ago. Where possible I will provide links to streaming and further listening.

We begin tomorrow with the two cello concertos of Kabalevsky, but who knows where this listening enterprise could take us?

If you read this and have a composer or release you think would deserve closer inspection, please do not hesitate to get in touch! I'm keen to involve as many people as possible.