As you can see from the above, none of these
recordings is less than about twenty-eight years old. The fact
that the sound quality is most acceptable by present standards
is a tribute both to the original producers at Swedish Radio and
to those uncredited engineers at Clarion who have prepared this
CD version. The collection features two choirs directed by the
distinguished Swedish choral conductor Eric Ericson. Considering
that it is in many senses a tribute to him and his work, it seems
odd that the accompanying booklet tells us practically nothing
about him – even if he is still with us today, which I had to
check elsewhere. In fact, for such a large and wide-ranging compilation,
the booklet is sadly inadequate, with very little in the way of
notes, and, worst of all, no texts or translations.
That small, but not insignificant, carp apart,
this is a really valuable and important issue. The discs’ title,
"Virtuoso Choral Music", is not calculated to arouse
much enthusiasm, which is a pity, because they are packed with
wonderful music, including some major twentieth century masterworks.
They are sung with artistry, imagination and often stunning technical
accomplishment by Ericson’s two ensembles represented here, Rudfunkchor
Stockholm (Stockholm Radio Choir) and Stockholmer Kammerchor (Stockholm
Chamber Choir). I can’t say I noticed any discrepancy in quality
between the two, though, as you might expect, the Radio Choir
sounds as if it is somewhat larger. Again, the insert is silent
on such salient matters.
Where Ericson and his singers are outstanding
is in their ability to maintain beauty of tone at all times. This
applies even under the severest of pressure, in, for example,
the rhythmical and textural complexities of Jolivet’s Epithalame,
or the tonal meanderings of Strauss’s beautiful, but essentially
unvocal, Der Abend. There are plenty of choirs who
can ‘do’ this music, but who, when they do, are not very nice
to listen to. And I’m thinking of certain English ensembles here,
whom I shall charitably leave nameless!
Nowadays, we are more accustomed to hearing Monteverdi’s
madrigals sung one voice to a part, so that Ericson’s use of a
chamber choir sounds unwontedly sumptuous. But the items from
the 6th Madrigal Book, collectively entitled "A
Lover’s Tears at the Grave of His Beloved", which begin CD1,
are done with such style and subtle expressive intensity that
my reservations were quickly forgotten. There is clarity of texture,
too, so that the composer’s frequently astonishing part-writing
can easily be savoured. Taken on its own terms, this is supremely
distinguished performing from the Kammerchor, while impeccable
tuning and ensemble can simply be taken for granted.
Excellent examples of 20th century
Italian choral music by Dallapiccola and Pizzetti follow. The
former’s Il Coro del Malammogllati is a particularly sensuous
delight. The Swede Lars Johan Werle, composer of chamber operas
such as Flower Power, is represented by his striking Nautical
Preludes, highly evocative and pictorial, including a full-scale
choral storm at sea! The disc is completed by Penderecki’s wonderful
Stabat Mater, most familiar perhaps as part of the St.Luke
Passion, but composed separately. It is a locus classicus
of contemporary choral writing, and is given an idiomatic and
very moving performance here. That outrageous final D major chord
has never sounded more glorious, and is a good deal more in tune
than, for example, the Warsaw National Philharmonic Chorus in
their version in the Argo complete Passion.
CD2 contains music by Reger, Richard Strauss
and Poulenc. Reger has never been one of my favourite composers,
so I was thrilled to find these ‘8 Spiritual Songs’ of op.138
– his final work – so simple and so very beautiful. They are closely
modelled on Bach, consisting mainly of simple homophonic writing
as in the Chorales of the earlier composer. When sung like this,
these are balm to the ears (Sample1: CD2, track 6). Op.110, on
the other hand, shows the influence of Brahms, and is a richly
complex work of some eighteen minutes, rising to a magnificent
affirmative climax at the end.
The two Strauss motets that follow are lighter
fare; Die Göttin im Putzzimmer – "The Goddess
in the Laundry"! – is enjoyable enough, though ultimately
rather fussy in its vocal writing and harmonic contortions. Not
surprisingly, the Radio Choir shows a few signs of strain in the
soprano line, which is both extremely high and very chromatic.
Der Abend ("The Evening") is more successful
as a piece, though still finds Strauss stretching somewhat beyond
the sensible limits of the human voice. Far more convincing are
the lovely Sept Chansons of Francis Poulenc, composed in
1936 using texts by Guillaume Apollinaire and the composer’s friend
Paul Eluard. The Kammerchor deal wonderfully well with, for example,
the major/minor fluctuations of A peine défigurée,
or the nervous rhythms of Par une nuit nouvelle.
CD3 is, for me, the most interesting of all.
It begins with Jolivet’s Epithalame, a tour de force
in every sense. Written in 1952 as a 20th anniversary
present for his wife, it is a setting of a text by the composer
himself, based on Egyptian, Indian, Chinese, Hebrew and Greek
sources. Much of it is forcefully rhythmical, though other passages,
often featuring solo voices (of excellent quality here), are delicate
and tender (Example 2: CD3 track 1, 7:15). This is a true virtuoso
performance, justifying, on its own, the title of the collection,
as do the Messiaen Cinq Rechants ("Five Refrains"),
music written around the same time as the famous Turangalîla
Symphony. There is a kinship with the Jolivet here, in that
the texts are made up of a kind of ‘proto-language’, allied to
French, yet using many non-verbal sounds, nonsense syllables,
etc. It’s wonderful choral music even for a Messiaen sceptic like
yours truly, and you can perhaps get the best impression of the
huge range and resourcefulness of the writing from this example
from the third song, Ma robed’amour (Sample 3: CD3, track
4, 3:14). Frank Martin’s initially austere but very deeply felt
Messe, written in 1926 but not heard until many years later,
makes a satisfying and completely appropriate conclusion to the
collection.
This is an important as well as a musically satisfying
set. Few groups, and few choral conductors, in the world can match
the confidence and sheer musical sensitivity which Ericson and
his choirs have brought to this often challenging yet glorious
music. If you love choirs, and the endless beauty and variety
of the human voice, you’ll revel in these masterly performances.
Gwyn Parry-Jones