How often a maestro’s return to his Alma Mater results in a pale reflection of previous glories—and how ironic it is that the second attempt often occurs because of the success of the original enterprise. This is certainly so in Karl Richter’s two recordings of the St Matthew Passion, where the freshness and pure theatre of the first, made in 1958, yield to a luxuriant but comparatively sentimental and over-cooked account 18 months before Richter’s death in 1981. Listening to the former in its re-released state is a revelation and it must surely glow as brightly as any great recording landmark of the 1950s. The 32-year-old Richter was at the height of his powers at this time. Committed to the spirit inhabited by his famous predecessor at St Thomas’s and steeped in the intense and resolute Lutheran culture, he exhibits something of an unselfconscious obsession to deliver Bach’s greatest rhetorical drama with profound expression. The scene is appropriately set in the opening chorus which unfolds deeply bowed and long-breathed and yet not so grave and reverential as to become oppressive as it does 20 years later. Similarly, the chorales here are forthright and highly-charged, direct and concentrated as opposed to ponderous and mannered in the later recording. It is hard to know which of the versions employs larger choral forces but, being Richter, neither is short of a full and muscular capacity. The difference, however, is that the earlier recording proffers light touches (try “Wo willst du”, on the first disc, track 14) and a range of clear articulations in the crowd scenes which in the later Munich Bach Choir are obscured by turgid and cloying textures. …

Karl Richter’s recordings of Bach’s orchestral and sacred music influenced an entire generation of musicians and listeners, presenting the conductor’s unique sound and style. When Richter recorded Bach’s works, he freed them from a ponderous tradition that had mired the music in romantic sounds and idiom. Richter lightened Bach’s music, and, with an orchestra of outstanding musicians, helped bring it toward the more modern interpretations that listeners have become familiar with today. This is still a bit far from the historically-informed performances that are pretty much the norm, but there is a unity and natural originality that comes through the music in these recordings. This set includes Richter’s excellent recordings of the Brandenburg concertos, the Orchestral Suites, and the Triple Concerto for flute, violin, harpsichord and strings. In the Brandenburgs, Richter provides a light, airy sound for the strings, very different from what was common in the 1960s. His tempi, relatively quick, give the music vigour it had not known perhaps for some 200 years. The instruments take their rightful place here as soloists in an ensemble, and the balance among them is exemplary. Rare indeed, even today, are the conductors who manage to play the Second Concerto with such joy and brio as Richter. Each instrument – the trumpet, the flute, and the oboe – stands out perfectly in the first movement, with its brilliantly lively tempo. The contrast of the second movement, andante, is excellent, and the trumpet shines again as the third movement opens, in this delightful performance. Richter’s Orchestral Suites are much denser than the Brandenburgs, and the tempi more ‘standard’. He reads these more as symphonies than suites, but, then again, he puts his own imprimatur on the music. They sound a bit too German, and not French enough for my taste, but one cannot ignore that these performances are full of deep spirit and thought.