This box assembles five discs from the discography of Laurence 
                  Equilbey and her fine choir, Accentus. The first disc of theirs 
                  that I encountered for review was an impressive one devoted 
                  to Rachmaninov (review). 
                  As the discs contained in this box are ones I’d not previously 
                  heard I was interested to listen to them. We’ve reviewed 
                  most of these discs before and I’ve included links to 
                  those reviews in what follows. I’ve also included the 
                  catalogue numbers of the original releases in the track listing 
                  for ease of reference. The discs have been boxed up in their 
                  original packaging so the booklets of notes and texts are retained 
                  in full. 
                    
                  One thought does strike me, I’m afraid, which is to wonder 
                  how much thought has been given to the needs of collectors in 
                  putting this box together. To say the least the contents appear 
                  rather randomly selected and there doesn’t seem to be 
                  any common thread running through the selection - other than 
                  the artists themselves. Someone who wants, say, the Brahms and 
                  Fauré discs may not want some of the others. 
                    
                  The disc that hasn’t been reviewed on MusicWeb International, 
                  so far as I can see, is the one that contains the Haydn work. 
                  For this the choir is joined by the Akademie für Alte Musik 
                  Berlin who play on period instruments. Les Sept Dernières 
                  Paroles du Christ en Croix, to use the French title 
                  employed in the packaging of this French disc, was originally 
                  conceived as an orchestral work (1786) which the composer arranged 
                  subsequently for various different forces, including, finally, 
                  in this choral version, which dates from 1795. What I didn’t 
                  know until reading the very interesting booklet note, was that 
                  Haydn was only inspired to make this version after hearing, 
                  quite by chance, someone else’s attempt to fashion his 
                  work into a cantata. The result is a work which inevitably is 
                  very serious in tone yet even in a serious work Haydn’s 
                  invention still shines through, not least in the orchestral 
                  scoring. The vocal writing doesn’t break any startling 
                  new ground but it’s always impressive. Laurence Equilbey 
                  leads a spirited and impressive performance. Her choir sings 
                  very well indeed - as they do throughout all five discs in this 
                  box - and she has the services of a good solo quartet while 
                  the orchestral contribution is first class. This is an excellent 
                  account of Haydn’s very thoughtful work that I’m 
                  delighted to add to my collection. 
                    
                  Sadly, I can’t say the same of the disc of music by the 
                  contemporary French composer, Pascal Dusapin. Virtually 
                  all the music on the disc is at a slow or, at best, moderate 
                  tempo. The words are well-nigh unintelligible; I think this 
                  must be either deliberate or due to the way the composer sets 
                  the texts for elsewhere in this box the diction of Accentus 
                  is always very clear. The music sounds to me to be wearyingly 
                  similar; indeed, in Granum Sinapis (‘Mustard seed’) 
                  it wasn’t until the third of the eight sections was reached 
                  that I glanced at the CD player and realised I wasn’t 
                  still listening to the first section! I’m afraid that 
                  despite the skill of the performers - seven instrumentalists 
                  from the ensemble Ars Nova are also involved in Dona eis 
                  - I’d wearied of this disc long before it ended. Our original 
                  review 
                  of the disc by Peter Grahame Woolf contains some additional 
                  background information about Dusapin and his music. I have absolutely 
                  no desire to listen to this disc again.   
                  The disc devoted to choral transcriptions was the subject 
                  of reviews 
                  by Neil Horner and Gwyn Parry Jones. The Barber piece is the 
                  best known arrangement; the composer himself made it, using 
                  his celebrated Adagio. I love the original piece, whether 
                  in its string orchestra or string quartet form but I’ve 
                  never thought that it really works as a choral transcription. 
                  I believe the main problem is that the high-lying climaxes put 
                  a strain on the vocal compass of even the best choirs - and 
                  Accentus is one of the best. Most of the other arrangements 
                  are by Clytus Gottwald (b. 1925). I’ve come across some 
                  of his arrangements before and there’s no doubt that, 
                  of their type, they seem skilled and effective. The trouble 
                  is that I don’t believe they add much, if anything, to 
                  the original music. There are, to be sure, some lovely choral 
                  textures in his arrangements of the songs by Wolf and Berg. 
                  His arrangement of one of Ravel’s Trois poèmes 
                  de Stéphane Mallarmé gives us Ravel through 
                  a Ligeti prism, which is quite interesting. However, where I 
                  part company with him completely is in his arrangement of Mahler’s 
                  sublime Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen. Surely the 
                  word “Ich” in the title is there for a reason? The 
                  vocal line, sung by a lone singer - “Ich” - should 
                  stand out from the accompaniment, whether that’s provided 
                  by a piano or by orchestra. How can it stand out when 
                  everyone involved in the performance is singing? Frankly, it’s 
                  nonsense, and the arrangement by Gérard Pesson of the 
                  Adagietto from Mahler’s Fifth Symphony is no better. 
                  To be honest, well should have been left alone in both cases. 
                  There are a couple of arrangements of Chopin piano pieces, made 
                  for Accentus, by Franck Krawczyk. I don’t think either 
                  of them works particularly well and as for the ghastly pretentiousness 
                  of Krawczyk’s note in the booklet, words fail me! Knut 
                  Nystedt’s Immortal Bach,on the other hand, 
                  is a brilliantly inventive homage to Bach; it’s a pity 
                  some of the other pieces on this disc aren’t up to that 
                  level of inspiration; Accentus give a splendid performance of 
                  it. 
                    
                  The performance of Fauré’s Requiem uses 
                  the 1893 version for small orchestra and organ. I presume, since 
                  his name is mentioned in the very good booklet notes, that the 
                  edition by Jean-Michel Nectoux is used, though this isn’t 
                  specifically stated in the documentation. The recording was 
                  made in the Basilique Sainte Clotilde in Paris and it’s 
                  good to hear the church’s Cavaillé-Coll organ, 
                  originally built in 1858, making a good contribution to the 
                  sonorities. The performance is a good one, if not terribly distinctive. 
                  The choir sings very well, as one has come to expect by now. 
                  However, I thought that the performance lacked fire in its belly 
                  at the admittedly few dramatic points. It all seems very cultivated 
                  - a performance without a hair out of place, if you will - but 
                  somewhat lacking in tension and feeling, despite the excellence 
                  of the execution. The baritone, Stéphane Degout, has 
                  a fairly light voice and he gives relaxed, smooth accounts of 
                  his two solos. Sandrine Piau is an ethereal soloist in the ‘Pie 
                  Jesu’, her voice light and clear, though some might wish, 
                  as do I, for a bit more warmth and roundness in the tone. 
                    
                  My overall impression is that this is in many ways a beautiful 
                  performance of the Requiem and though the catalogue isn’t 
                  exactly short of versions of which that could be said I think 
                  anyone acquiring this performance will enjoy it. The disc is 
                  pretty short measure; the only other item is the lovely Cantique 
                  de Jean Racine. This is given in the 1905 version for full 
                  orchestra. Personally, I greatly prefer the original version 
                  with organ accompaniment; larger forces deprive this little 
                  gem of a piece of some of its intimacy. That said, this Accentus 
                  performance is very good indeed and I appreciated very much 
                  the flowing tempo that Laurence Equilbey sets. One has heard 
                  many performances in the past that, due to a stodgy tempo have 
                  sounded sanctimonious; this reading is definitely not in that 
                  category. Readers may be interested to read either our review 
                  by Robert Hugill or the review 
                  by Kevin Sutton. 
                    
                  The final disc contains Ein deutsches Requiem 
                  by Brahms. It’s given in the composer’s own arrangement 
                  of the accompaniment for two pianos. This is described as the 
                  ‘London version’ because what is believed to be 
                  the first known performance took place in the house of a wealthy 
                  music lover in London in 1871, two years after Brahms made the 
                  piano arrangement at the request of his publisher. I love the 
                  Brahms Requiem but I’d not heard this version of the score 
                  before. The first time I listened I confess that I was unimpressed: 
                  unworthy thoughts of the rehearsal room went through my mind 
                  on hearing the piano accompaniment. To anyone who repeats my 
                  mistake all I can say is please persevere. 
                    
                  In the first place this is not like hearing the work 
                  in rehearsal because the accompaniment is not a reduction for 
                  one piano for rehearsal purposes. Instead the accompaniment 
                  is, in the words of the booklet annotator, “a transformation 
                  of the whole work (including the voice parts) into a piano composition 
                  in its own right.” Mind you, that statement is slightly 
                  undermined by the following comment right at the end of the 
                  note; “In this performance those passages of the piano 
                  part that are rendered superfluous by the presence of voices 
                  are omitted.” This seems slightly strange to me: Brahms 
                  presumably didn’t consider what, it seems, is some doubling 
                  of the vocal parts to be “superfluous” so why tamper 
                  with his own arrangement? I’m unclear, therefore, to what 
                  extent Brahms’ arrangement has been modified. What I can 
                  say, however, is that after coming to terms with the lack of 
                  an orchestra - which I did at the second time of listening - 
                  the results are, frankly, revelatory. 
                    
                  It’s true that one loses some weight of tone - though 
                  not as much as you might imagine - and, of course, one is deprived 
                  of orchestral colour. However, the gains in terms of clarity, 
                  indeed luminosity of texture, more than outweigh these losses. 
                  And after a while such is the skill and sensitivity of the two 
                  pianists, Brigitte Engerer and Boris Berezovsky, that I was 
                  completely convinced. Once one adjusts to the scale of the performance 
                  the results are deeply satisfying and Brahms’s masterpiece 
                  emerges in a new light. The chief gain is in intimacy. That’s 
                  not to say that the big moments go for naught but, working with 
                  a choir of forty - ten to each part - Laurence Equilbey is able 
                  to bring the music close to the listener in a way that even 
                  the best of the traditional orchestral performances can’t 
                  quite achieve. My notes are full of appreciative comments but 
                  let me just share a couple. The big fugues that close the second, 
                  third and sixth movements all come off remarkably well. The 
                  pianos can’t emulate an orchestra, of course - nor do 
                  the players try so to do - but what actually happens is that 
                  the percussive nature of the instruments drives the music along 
                  - for instance in ‘Die Erlöseten des Herrn’ 
                  - and not only does one hear the choral parts clearly but every 
                  strand in the accompaniment is audible too. I particularly liked 
                  the fugue, ‘Herr, Du bist würdig’ and within 
                  that passage loved the lyrical way the phrases come across at 
                  ‘Denn Du hast alle Dinge erschaffen’. And before 
                  we reach that fugue, sample the bite - and especially the running 
                  bass in the accompaniment - in the fiery passage, ‘Der 
                  Tod ist verschlungen in den Sieg’. At the other end of 
                  the scale, as it were, the famous fourth movement, ‘Wie 
                  lieblich sind Deine Wohnungen’, emerges with delicacy 
                  and luminosity.  
                    
                  The soloists are good. Stéphane Degout may not match 
                  some of his more illustrious rivals on disc; for one thing his 
                  voice is too light for that, I think. However, within the scale 
                  of this performance he makes a pleasing contribution. Generally, 
                  Sandrine Piau sings the gorgeous soprano solo well though she 
                  blots her copybook a couple of times. I’m almost certain 
                  that she snatches a breath after the word “nun” 
                  in her very first phrase, ‘Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit’. 
                  If she doesn’t then at least the phrase isn’t seamless 
                  and she does something similar and to the same words at 3:57. 
                  Overall, however, this is one of the most beautiful and consolatory 
                  performances of Ein deutsches Requiem that I’ve 
                  encountered and I’m delighted that this box has given 
                  me the opportunity to hear it. We have carried an earlier review 
                  of this disc by Anne Ozorio. 
                    
                  So, this box is rather a mixed bag and I’ve discussed 
                  each disc in a little more detail than I might otherwise have 
                  done in order to give prospective purchaser an idea of what 
                  they might be buying. My own view is that the Brahms and Haydn 
                  discs are highly desirable acquisitions and, though not a first 
                  choice, the Fauré disc also offers much pleasure. The 
                  other two discs exert far less appeal to me but if the repertoire 
                  is attractive you can invest with confidence for the recorded 
                  sound is consistently good, each disc is well documented and, 
                  above all, the standard of performance by Accentus is consistently 
                  very high indeed. 
                    
                  John Quinn   
                    
                  Track-listing  
                  Adagio for choir and other choral transcriptions 
                  Samuel BARBER (1910-1981) Agnus Dei 
                  op.11 [7:11]
                  Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911) Kein Deutsche Himmel 
                  (Adagietto from Symphony no.5) [9:08]
                  J.S. BACH (1685-1750) Immortal Bach (Komm 
                  süsser tod, BWV478) [6:30]
                  Frideryk CHOPIN (1810-1849) Lacrimosa (Etude 
                  op. 10 no.6) [3:56]
                  Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937) Soupir [3:44]
                  Hugo WOLF (1860-1903) Das verlassene Mägdlein 
                  [3:45]; Auf ein altes Bild [2:28]
                  Alban BERG (1885-1935) Die Nachtigall [2:23]
                  Gustav MAHLER Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen 
                  [6:04]
                  Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918) Les Angélus 
                  [2:27]
                  Frideryk CHOPIN Lulajze, Jezuniu (Largo, 
                  Piano Sonata op.58) [4:39]
                  Accentus Chamber Choir/Laurence Equilbey
                  rec. February 2001, Grande Salle, L’Arsenal, Metz, France.
                  NAÏVE V4965 [52:22]
                  
                  Johannes BRAHMS (1833 - 1897) 
                  Ein deutsches Requiem, Op. 45 (London version) (1869)
                  Sandrine Piau (soprano); Stéphane Degout (baritone); 
                  Brigitte Engerer and Boris Berezovsky (pianos) 
                  Accentus/Laurence Equilbey.
                  rec. June and July 2003, Cité de la musique, Paris. DDD.
                  NAIVE V 4956 [64:54] 
                    
                  Gabriel FAURÉ (1845-1924) 
                  Requiem, op. 48 (1893) [36.03]
                  Cantique de Jean Racine(1865) [5.18]
                  Sandrine Piau (soprano); Stphane Degout (baritone); Luc Héry 
                  (violin); Christophe Henry (organ) 
                  Maitrise de Paris; Accentus; Members of L’Orchestre National 
                  de France/Laurence Equilbey
                  rec. January 2008, Basilique Sainte Clotilde, Paris
                  NAÏVE V5137 [41.21]
                  
                  Pascal DUSAPIN (b. 1955) 
                  Requiem(s)
                  Granum Sinapis (1992-7) [22:18] 
                  Umbrae Mortis (1997) [4:13] 
                  Dona eis* [19:53] 
                  Choeur de Chambre Accentus; *Ars Nova/Laurence Equilbey 
                  rec. February, 2000, Grande Salle, L’Arsenal, Metz
                  AUVIDIS/NAÏVE MO 782116 [47:10]
                   
                  Joseph HAYDN (1732-1809) 
                  Les Sept Dernières Paroles du Christ en Croix 
                  Sandrine Piau (soprano); Ruth Sandhoff (mezzo); Robert Getchell 
                  (tenor); Harry van der Kamp (bass) 
                  Accentus; Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin/Laurence Equilbey 
                  
                  rec. December 2005, Théâtre de Poissy, France 
                  NAÏVE V 5045 [53:14]