J. S. Bach wrote hundreds of liturgical choral works, most of them with a strict deadline – the forthcoming Sunday morning church service. Yet the composition (some would argue, the compilation) of the Mass in B minor BWV232 occupied him for many years, despite the composer being fully aware of the fact that this immense Catholic work was unserviceable and impractical in the overwhelmingly Lutheran community of Leipzig. To this day, Bach’s crowning achievement is seldom performed due to its monumental length (taking 1¾ hours in most modern performances) and its demanding instrumental and vocal solos. It was only in the last years of his life that Bach gradually “assembled” the Mass by mostly recycling carefully chosen, previously composed choral music with new text – this compositional tool, called the parody technique, was both acceptable and common at the time.
“The B Minor Mass”, as it is customarily referred to (without even the need to mention the composer’s name) has in the past been considered to be a powerful and grave work best performed with a voluminous choir and orchestra, lasting on the venerable old recordings of Karajan, Karl Richter and others a good half hour longer. Then in the early 1980s, the American conductor and scholar, Joshua Rifkin made the suggestion in his writings and concerts that in Bach’s time, the word “chorus” meant a collection of solo singers who were employed to sing solo and choral roles without distinction, and therefore the Mass (and other choral works) could be performed with minimal forces. The ensuing professional debate was intense but once that subsided, a number of conductors took up the idea and started experimenting with a smaller vocal ensemble and an orchestra matching in size. The performing style also changed by becoming historically better informed with performances advancing less ponderous tempi, and the transformation was startling: the Mass became a shorter, leaner and perhaps less mighty composition – yet its sublime spirituality remained intact. Almost as if the emphasis would shift from the ominously superior, white-bearded, fully clothed God to the muscular but naked, pleading but sinful Adam (look up in the Sistine Chapel!)
In Sydney last Sunday, prominent vocal ensemble The Song Company expanded its core membership and partnered with Ironwood (another local group, known for specialising in historically informed performance of the music of the 18th and 19th century) for this concert; it may well have been the first performance of the Mass in Australia with only ten singers and a grand total of 22 instrumentalists (some of them required only for a few numbers).
The concentration and focus of these musicians was palpable right from the first utterance of Kyrie. They were conducted by the Musical Director of The Song Company, Roland Peelman, whose languid, expressive body language rarely indicated beats or entries in the traditional sense – nor it seemed was there any need for it, for that matter – but controlled the flow of the music, refining the articulation constantly. His bent knees, continuously moving long fingers appeared almost to take part in some sacral dance, rather than conducting – and indeed, the dance-like movements, such as the Osanna or the triumphant Et resurrexit, provided some of the most compelling and joyous moments of the concert.