Bach's St John Passion from Raphaël Pichon and Pygmalion

The long-awaited counterpart to Raphaël Pichon’s 2022 St Matthew Passion with Pygmalion arrives at last, and doesn’t disappoint. The opening chorus of his St John Passion drops us straight into the action with a pulsing and turbulent sound, with the contributions of the bassoon and contrabassoon to the bass line particularly audible. In the notes to the St Matthew, Pichon referred to this opening as ‘grabbing by the scruff of the neck’ and that’s exactly what it does. 

Julian Prégardien is an agile and predominantly gentle Evangelist - his speech-rhythm is often quick and he doesn’t drag out the longer passages of text, though there are a few points where he lets a dramatic Sprechstimme overtake the precise pitch - notably at the moment of pure outrage at the murderer Barabbas finding the crowd’s favour over Jesus. 

Elsewhere - noticeably when describing Jesus’s appearance to the crowd after receiving the purple robe and Crown of Thorns, and the appearance of Mary at the foot of the Cross - he strikes an intimate, remorseful tone. It’s been remarked (not least by Pichon himself) that the St John Passion’s Evangelist is more directly involved in the action than that of the St Matthew - a correspondent reporting ‘live from the scene’, rather than someone recounting events afterwards - and this flexibility from Prégardien is instrumental to establishing and maintaining the work’s immediacy. 

Huw Montague Rendall is a relatively light Christus, and suitably vulnerable in the Crucifixion scene itself - he doesn’t boom or come across as audibly towering over events, as some other accounts have tended to do (to their detriment, I would say). If he is perhaps slightly lacking in some of the lower register then the exhausted, sotto voce delivery of his es ist vollbracht more than makes up for it. 

The density of the imagery in the aspects of the libretto that reflect on the action never fails to amaze me - the juxtaposition of chaining and freedom, wounding and healing in Von den Stricken is just the first example of many, and alto Lucile Richardot’s performance combines a clear voice with crisp diction. Her unhurried Es ist vollbracht in the second half is magical, with plaudits also due to gambist Julien Léonard for his sensitive obbligato.

Another piece of poetic genius is Erwäge, where the streaks of blood produced by the scourging are figuratively compared to the rainbow of the Flood story as symbols of grace and hope. This is an aria that really sorts the sheep from the goats among tenors in terms of its vocal demands; Laurence Kilsby’s ability to bring that sense of grace and peace to the music, contrasting with more anguished passages, is extremely impressive both technically and expressively. 

Parallels with Pichon’s account of the St Matthew recur throughout the performance - among them an inclination to err on the side of faster tempi. This tendency first makes its presence really felt in Ich folge dir gleichfalls, drawing delightfully light-footed performances from both flautists Georgia Browne and Raquel Martorell Dorta and soprano Ying Fang.

Christian Immler offers a relatively commanding and in-control Pilate - the character is sometimes played as confrontational towards Jesus, but is here rather more sympathetic (a feeling reinforced by the surrounding interjections from the Evangelist, which are primarily gentle rather than condemnatory). 

The turba scenes with the chattering wind passagework inevitably make the crowd seem simultaneously menacing and contemptible - not just baying for blood, but somehow doing so in a prattling and even ridiculous tone. This is particularly apparent in Sei gegrüßet, lieber Jüdenkönig, with oboes Jasu Moisio and Lidewei De Sterck audibly taking pleasure in their rushing descant material, and in the transition from whispering to swelling pomposity which Pichon effects over the course of Wir haben ein Gesetz.

At times the chorales seem to provide an oasis of internal calm from the horrendous action unfolding ‘out there’ in the main narrative - millennia of ritual can sometimes dull the core fact that this is a story about someone being tortured to death in one of the most painful ways ever devised - and Pichon deliberately plays up this contrast. The hushed conclusion of Durch dein Gefängnis is thus rudely interrupted by reality reintruding as the crowd once again resumes its yelling. The chorus’s diction is particularly noteworthy in some of these turbas - for all the flurries of notes, every consonant in keinen König denn den Kaiser is clearly heard.

There are plenty of other highlights of this amazing performance - to name just one more, the gentle background sound of the choir in Mein teurer Heiland, which is a perfect and subtle backdrop for the soloist - but there isn’t space for me to go into every nook and cranny. Out of every recording of the St John Passion I’ve heard, I find it hard to place this one anywhere other than the top spot.