Today is Steve Reich’s birthday: his 70th. If you find it hard to believe that one of the bad boys of American music has turned 70, join the club.

To mark the occasion, his faithful label, Nonesuch, has issued a box set, called “Phases.” It is sort of a greatest hits collection, although I doubt either the label or Mr. Reich would welcome that designation. This composer, as you know, was a pioneer of minimalism, and the five discs of “Phases” give us many of the works that made him famous: “Drumming” (1971), “Music for 18 Musicians” (1976), and so on. We also have some more recent works, including “You Are (Variations),” from 2004.

This is my all-time favorite Reich work. In it, he touches upon several of his religious and philosophical themes. And he has come up with an incredibly gladdening creation. I don’t see how it can be resisted.

(Incidentally, this piece is available on a separate Nonesuch CD, along with 2003’s “Cello Counterpoint.”)

Minimalism is not for everyone, and neither is Mr. Reich. But, no matter what your views, you can respect Mr. Reich, as a sincere musician who has hit an interesting and widely appreciated vein. And for a Reich fan — or a prospective one — “Phases” is just the thing.

THOMAS QUASTHOFF
Consider, My Soul

Tomorrow night, Carnegie Hall will open its season with the Cleveland Orchestra, one of whose soloists will be Thomas Quasthoff, the German bassbaritone. Four years ago, he gave a concert in that hall with the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra. The program included two of Bach’s holiest cantatas: “Ich habe genug” and “Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen.” This was one of the most beautiful and profound concerts I can remember attending.

And, by the way, Mr. Quasthoff followed his Bach with an encore: “Ol’ Man River.” Really.

His latest album is “Consider, My Soul,” a compilation of sacred arias (Deutsche Grammophon). It includes no Bach cantatas, and it snubs Jerome Kern, too. But it does contain several Bach arias: from the Christmas Oratorio, the St. John Passion, and the St. Matthew Passion. It also includes pieces by Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn.

Mr. Quasthoff’s engagement with the music is total, and his understanding is deep. Indeed, a hallmark of his singing here — as elsewhere — is intelligence. His phrasing is exemplary, and so is his diction. It’s a high compliment to say that Mr. Quasthoff is worthy of the music he sings.

For me, the pearl of this CD is “Mache dich, mein Herze, rein,” from the St. Matthew Passion. The yearning in it is exactly right. And Mr. Quasthoff takes care never to overdo. I found myself listening to this track repeatedly.

He is accompanied by the Staatskapelle Dresden and the Staatsopernchor Dresden, conducted by Sebastian Weigle. They do an admirable job.

Mr. Quasthoff likes to sing spirituals, and this disc ends with what Deutsche Grammophon calls a “bonus track”: “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Mr. Quasthoff is idiomatic, elegant, and warming. He messes up a word — “got” instead of “get”— but that is the only real flaw. Every now and then, a CD comes along that rises above the rest, assuming a place in a small collection within a greater one, and I believe this is one of those CDs.

KARL RICHTER
A Universal Musician

If we are discussing sacred music, it’s a good time to bring up Karl Richter, the German musician who lived between 1926 and 1981. He is best known as a conductor of Bach oratorios. But he was also a symphonic conductor, and an organist, and a harpsichordist. Deutsche Grammophon has now memorialized him with a box set called “Karl Richter: A Universal Musician.”

In over eight CDs, we find some Baroque opera, two Haydn symphonies, and much other music. Richter as organist appears in Mozart, Brahms, and Liszt. We also have him accompany the tenor Peter Schreier in Bach’s Schemelli songs. As harpsichordist, Richter plays Handel and Bach — one disc is devoted to the latter’s Goldberg Variations.

DG’s liner notes include this marvelous statement by the critic Karl Schumann (a pretty good name for a critic): “He,” meaning Richter, “viewed the findings of modern musicology with no great enthusiasm. For him, music was the expression of sounds, a vital force, a musical argument into which the performer breathed life on the basis of technical mastery.” Would that that could be said of all of us!

And Martin Elste states that “Richter was neither an out-and-out Romantic nor an aloof representative of the New Objectivity. Rather, his musicianship emerged organically from an amalgam of these two trends.” That, too, should be said of all of us.

Needless to say, the many hours of performances on these eight CDs are uneven, with Richter touching great heights, and some more modest ones. But there is no doubt that a formidable mind is at work, and a mind completely devoted to musical art. You can learn from these discs, as well as enjoy them. This new box set is a monument to an outstanding and valuable musical life.