Bach takes back seat for once
Bach’s music is so central to the Baroque era that it can sometimes shunt other things to the sidelines — or at least try to. But the underdogs can have their revenge, which is what happened on Friday, Dec. 7, during a diffuse but intermittently delightful concert in Herbst Theatre by the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra.
The guest conductor, Patrick Dupré Quigley, seemed to intend the program as a stylistic portrait of Bach, juxtaposing two of his cantatas with the music of Bach’s Italian and English forebears. Instead, those predecessors — Monteverdi, Vivaldi and Purcell — wound up stealing the spotlight. Good for them. Bach’s music is a staple, after all, and the two cantatas that Quigley chose — “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland,” BWV 61, and “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme,” BWV 140 — are particularly familiar favorites. The other music packed a mightier punch.
Monteverdi’s “Confitebor tibi Domine,” for instance, drawn from his late-career collection “Selva Morale e Spirituale” of 1640, opened the program with a burst of dance-like energy. This is sacred vocal music (a setting of Psalm 111) set to vivacious rhythms and almost pop harmonies, as though a big dance number had broken out in church. Quigley gave the work an infectious momentum, and the three vocal soloists — soprano Margot Rood, tenor Steven Soph and bass Steven Eddy — wove their overlapping vocal lines dexterously.
The evening’s fourth vocal soloist, countertenor Reginald Mobley, had his moment in the sun soon thereafter, with an affecting rendition of Vivaldi’s “Nisi Dominus.” Quigley introduced this as a sort of vocal concerto — the analog of the instrumental showpieces for which the composer is best known — and the parallel seemed entirely apt in Mobley’s performance, which abounded in both deft passagework and tender melodic phrasing during the slow movements.
Yet it was Purcell who made the richest impression (as he so often does), in the indelible scene from “King Arthur” that features the mysterious shivery spirit known as the Cold Genius.
This frozen sufferer, together with his attendant Chorus of Cold People, find themselves thawed by the warmth of love, and the teeth-chattering music Purcell wrote for them is a marvel — as were the effervescent blandishments of Cupid, delivered by Rood with lovely clarity and grace. (If Quigley intended this wintry landscape as a piece of seasonal programming, as his notes suggest, it’s a choice that works anywhere but the Bay Area.)
What these selections had to do with Bach was less than clear, but both cantatas emerged with stately urgency. Rood was the vocal hero throughout, giving a proud, fine-grained rendition of the final soprano aria in “Nun komm,” and joining with Eddy and violinist Noah Strick to bring tender poignancy to the duets in “Wachet auf.” Here Bach came into his own at last.