When
Dan Morgan
reviewed the Profil recording of the Berlioz
Requiem with Davis and the Dresden Staatskapelle last year,
he alluded to PentaTone’s plans to remaster the famous
Davis/LSO version as a surround-sound SACD. Well, here
it is and sounding terrific. This version of the Requiem
and Charles Munch’s Boston Symphony recording for RCA have
long been held as the benchmarks for this gigantic work. Now,
how does it compete with some of the more recent versions
purely as recorded sound? As an interpretation, it still
stands at or near the top of the heap.
I remember
when Philips first issued this on CD and I bought a copy. I
was so disappointed with the sound that I soon discarded
it. I haven’t heard the later pressings, but I can say
that PentaTone has done an outstanding job in restoring this
to its original glory, even in two channels. The recording
was originally quadraphonic. Although I do not have a system
that is configured for SACD, I listened to this on a friend’s
system to get full advantage of the rear channels. I compared
this version with three others, particularly in the
Tuba
mirum and
Sanctus movements:
• Munch/BSO (RCA 82876 663732)
• Spano/Atlanta Symphony (Telarc CD60627)
• Norrington/Stuttgart Radio Orchestra (Hänssler
CD93.191).
Each of these
recordings has something to offer the listener that the other
does not, and it was a most enlightening exercise. At the
end of the day, I would be hard pressed to recommend one
over the other depending on one’s expectations of the work. If
the highlight of the work for you is the tenor solo in the
Sanctus,
then Munch’s Leopold Simoneau is head and shoulders above
the others. If, on the other hand, the antiphonal brass
in the
Tuba mirum is your primary concern, then Spano’s
Telarc recording is unbeatable — purely as sound. Davis’s
brass here were powerful, but more spread out and less directional
than Spano’s. If you find that many interpretations of
the work are Romantically overblown, including Davis’s, and
want to try something completely different, then Norrington’s
Stuttgart recording may just be your cup of tea. With Davis
there is a certain rightness of the Berlioz idiom that is
hard to define. A case in point is the
Lacrimosa,
where the swinging rhythm, like some gigantic bell, seems
to perfectly capture the mood of the piece. Here Norrington
sounds hurried and misses that feeling altogether. Yet,
Norrington’s version creates a better sense of space and
is recorded in an acoustic that sounds more cathedral-like
than Davis’, even though it was recorded in a concert hall. It
takes some time getting used to his vibrato-less strings
at first, but they fit well in with the purity of his voices. The
result of this pristine account is to take the work back
into the Renaissance and earlier, and it sheds a whole new
light on the piece. His flutes with trombone underpinning
in the
Hostias are perfectly articulated and create
an atmosphere of desolation. Compared to Norrington, Davis
sounds very human, with the chorus not ideally blended. Still,
there’s no gainsaying the commitment the orchestra and chorus
are giving here. It is a powerful experience, and not just
because it is recorded more closely than Norrington.
Next to Davis,
Spano sounds sleek and smooth. There is not a hair out of
place in either the orchestra or the chorus, but some of
the blood and thunder of the work is drained out in the process. Yet,
when that brass comes in from the rear, it is pretty spectacular. His
soloist, Frank Lopardo, while perfectly satisfactory, in
no way eclipses Simoneau for Munch. As far as the tenor
is concerned, Ronald Dowd for Davis does a heroic job, but
rather overdoes his solo. He not only shows some strain
when he increases his volume, but also sounds affected in
his pronunciation of “Gloria.” On the other hand, Toby Spence
for Norrington is not much more than a far-off presence in
his solo and his words are not clear. Again, Simoneau for
Munch knows how the solo should go. He sings it simply,
beautifully and without strain, even though he is recorded
closer than the others. Munch, like Davis, is a Berliozian
of the first order, but his recording — especially the strings — is
beginning to show its age.
The bottom
line is that no single recording of this great Requiem will
do justice to all of its aspects, but the Davis has stood
the test of time and is sounding now better than ever. PentaTone
should be congratulated for bringing it to new life. Had
they also included Davis’ sterling account of the Te Deum — also
a work of gigantic proportions, though not the length of
the Requiem — this would indeed have been a real bargain
(it is full price for two discs, making it an expensive prospect). In
its most recent reissue, Philips included it with the Requiem
on a two-CD set. There would have been room. Another sore
point with PentaTone is their rather skimpy notes in the
accompanying booklet on the work itself, especially compared
with the notes that originally accompanied the Philips discs. Nor
is a text of the Requiem included here. This, however, should
not deter prospective buyers from purchasing this classic
account of one of the glories of the Davis Berlioz discography
if you want the work on SACD.
Leslie Wright