This is a recording
that is now in at least its third incarnation,
as RCA continues to follow in the pattern
of all major labels and rely on its
extensive back catalogue to keep its
name before the public. Would that they
would go back twenty to thirty years
further in their great vault of musical
history and give us digitized editions
of some of the wealth they possess.
Fortunately, this is a very fine performance,
and it is not hurting anything to have
it remain on the shelves.
Perhaps the large choral
and orchestral works such as the Requiem
mass by Verdi, the German Requiem of
Brahms, and Carmina Burana of Orff are
some of the most difficult to both perform
live and record. The vocal forces needs
must be so massive to combat the large
orchestras that it requires due diligence
indeed to get clear enunciation and
a warm, unified singing tone at the
same time. Many recordings of Brahms’
monumental score become mere shout fests,
in which the chorus, in the case of
the Brahms especially the tenors, scream
their fool heads off.
Fortunately for Chicagoans
and for listeners around the world,
there was Margaret Hillis. Ms. Hillis,
who for many years marshaled the CSO
chorus into one of the finest choirs
of its type in the world, was part Grand
Dame and part Überkommandant
and would tolerate nothing less than
complete intelligibility of the text
and a tone that was flawlessly tuned
and carefully shaped for phrase.
This performance is
a near perfect combination of conductorial
vision, excellent choral singing, and
fine soloists and of course, one of
the world’s finest orchestras.
Kathleen Battle, whose
reputation as a singer has suffered
lately more because of her reportedly
outlandish behaviour than her ability
to spin a note, is in fine form here.
She soars easily and peacefully above
the orchestra with the glowing, radiant
tone that made her famous now more than
thirty years ago. Mr. Hagegård,
whose voice can often come across with
more steel in it than passion, brings
off a rewardingly intense and dramatic
performance.
James Levine’s sense
of Brahms’ deeply felt conviction is
evident here, particularly in his choices
of tempi. The composer wanted this work
to be uplifting, and although there
are certainly moments of powerful drama
(the second movement, for example),
Levine shies away from making any of
this music dirge like. Rather, he chooses
to move the score along to its comforting
end at a rather swift pace.
Although I would not
say that this was the very best recording
of the German Requiem (I save that honor
for John Eliot Gardiner’s fantastic
account on Philips), this is certainly
amongst my top ten. Recommended.
Kevin Sutton