Last week at the Philharmonie in Berlin, the ensemble Pygmalion under conductor Raphaël Pichon performed a concert of sacred music from during and after the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648). It was a brutally destructive conflict that by some estimates decimated the German population by half. And though religious tensions were among the causes for the conflict, religious music—often, by necessity, for very small forces—was a source of succor; an answer to “the question of where to still find light, where to still find consolation, comfort, confidence, faith” in hopeless times, Pichon said. Georg Daniel Speer’s simple canon “Ach! Wie elend ist unser Zeit,” which opened the concert and was performed by singers distributed around the Philharmonie, was touching in the manner of a rough-hewn grave. The J.S. Bach cantata that concluded the concert, “Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich,” was more ornate in style but just as direct in expression. The small ensemble sounded astonishingly full but never harsh. The sound reminded me of those rare and expensive colors wrought from organic sources like insects.
Pichon, 41, founded Pygmalion in 2006. There’s no shortage of great early music ensembles, but the group stands out for its subtle phrasing, the unearthly warmth of its string section and its exquisite recordings. (Alex Ross called its version of the B-Minor Mass “astonishing, incontestably great.” I agree.) The group’s curation stands out too. “Cantatas of the 16th and Early 17th Centuries in Northern Germany” sounds like it could be a dissertation topic, but Pygmalion’s performance at the Philharmonie was something far more emotionally arresting: a musical exploration of death from two viewpoints, first as tragedy, then as sweet relief.
Pichon and I started by discussing the program over espresso and chocolate in a green room at the Philharmonie.
“To Be a Musician Is to Desire a Piece of Music”
An interview with conductor Raphaël Pichon
