Cards on the table. This is the greatest recording
of The Dream of Gerontius ever made and preserves a performance
of such musico-dramatic strength, such beauty and understanding that
it is hard to conceive that it will ever be surpassed. In its articulation
of the architecture it is unique; in its control and flexibility within
a dramatic and fluent pulse it is unrivalled; in its soloists it has
voices seemingly made for the role and in one, Heddle Nash, an impersonation
so complete as to be almost miraculous; it has an orchestra in fiercely
involved form and a choir of remarkable engagement. And in Sargent –
in surely his greatest recording – it has a conductor whose conception
is so overwhelmingly comprehensive, whose negotiation of rubato is one
of the most acute perception and whose incisive and inflective conducting
is in a class of its own.
It is well known that Walter Legge, the producer, strove
to engage Boult in place of Sargent and Ferrier instead of Ripley. Our
loss at not hearing Ferrier is more than compensated for in the singing
of the equally tragic Gladys Ripley who died of cancer at the age of
47. Sargent’s conducting holds in perfect equilibrium the details of
architecture and spiritual intensity; the necessity for a degree of
latitude within a forward-moving tempo. His is viscerally alive conducting.
Nash is incomparable. He has clarity of diction and beauty of tone with
plangency and strength, his lyric tenor negotiating every hurdle, alive
to every nuance and feeling. By 1945 he customarily sang without a score
and his identification with the role was absolute. Anyone who knows
and reveres this recording will attest to the power of Novissima
hora est or Sanctus Fortis, I went to sleep (with
his inward and bleached tone) or Take me away but everywhere
he is magnificent. His conversational ease in Part II, in I would
have nothing and I had ever believed are imperishable moments.
Once his intensity was derided for its quasi-operatic intensity but
not now. Unforgettable is his phrase the like of whom, the last
word vested with such horror and do to death with its gulped
note. When Nash sings O Jesu help it is singing beyond beauty
– it is simply transcendent.
Gladys Ripley has wonderful tonal resources; she is
expressive and warm and there is consolation but not matronliness in
her eloquence. She is therefore as moving as any singer in Softly
and gently; her duet with Nash is exquisitely done, the two voices
perfectly complementing each other. Her singing of the passage Yes
– for one moment is of almost unbearable intensity. I can
only say that I find her the moving exponent of The Angel I have
ever heard. The Priest and the Angel of Agony are – uniquely – split
between Dennis Noble and Norman Walker. Noble is commanding, magnificent
and Walker, more a basso cantante in contrast to Noble’s baritone, is
more pliant and softer grained, in equally superb voice. The Liverpool
Philharmonic was Britain’s most outstanding orchestra at the time with
superb principals and section players and the Huddersfield Choral Society
had been superbly trained by chorus master Herbert Bardgett. They are
precise, expressively involving and often overwhelming in their intensity.
In addition there is an entirely apposite 1946 recording
of Sea Pictures with Gladys Ripley, here accompanied by the Philharmonia,
in one of its early outings on disc, conducted by George Weldon. It’s
an admirable performance – precisely articulated and in Sabbath Morning
at Sea emphatic, with expressive portamanti from Ripley that reminds
one of the benignity of her singing of The Angel. There is certainly
less onrush, less romantic involvement and engagement than some performances
have found though maybe there is a compelling gain in introspection
as a result – I especially liked the grandeur and flexibility of The
Swimmer. But, no, it won’t displace the searing intensities of Baker
and Barbirolli, who remain sui generis here.
Notes are by Lewis Foreman and the texts are well presented.
The transfer is good but there is an unfortunate gap between the Prelude
and Nash’s entry that might grate. EMI’s rival reissue couples the Dream
of Gerontius with Tortelier’s first traversal of the Cello Concerto,
again with Sargent. I’ve not heard it. Whichever you choose the result
is a performance of incandescence and spiritual engagement impossible
to forget.
Jonathan Woolf
See also Barbirolli
Huddersfield Choral Society