This disc is a profoundly beautiful and supremely effective meditation on
the
theme of death and mourning. Part of its power comes in the way it
intelligently
juxtaposes a number of works that would normally never be heard together.
The
combination of the Bach chorales and the second partita comes due to Helga
Thoene’s
now fairly well known thesis about Bach’s weaving of chorale themes
into
the great Ciaccona that ends the partita. It’s territory that has
already
been explored very successfully by the Hilliard Ensemble and Christoph
Poppen
on their
Morimur disc on ECM. I won’t go into the details now
-
they’re explained very clearly in the booklet note, which contains
the
texts, translations and some musical examples, as well as Professor
Thoene’s
original text. Suffice to say that Thoene shows how Bach wove into the
Ciaccona
various themes from chorale texts which consider the theme of death and
resurrection.
Here we get some of the chorales sung by Tenebrae, interspersed with the
movements
of the Partita played by Gordan Nikolitch, and then the chorale themes
superimposed
on top of the violin line for the final Ciaccona. If that all sounds a
little
academic then don’t be alarmed: one of the strengths of the disc is
that
you are welcome to delve as deep into that side of things as you like, but
you
are under no obligation to do so; if you choose simply to listen to the
beautiful
music then there is plenty of space to do just that.
The singing of Tenebrae is marvellous here. Their blend is nothing short
of
sensational, and they fit the acoustic of St Giles’ Cripplegate as
though
it had been tailor made for them. Each of the chorales passes simply but
beautifully,
every phrase imbued with thoughtfulness and meaning, and their
contribution
(with reduced numbers) to the Ciaccona is direct and clear without being
overdone.
Nikolitch’s playing of the Partita is deeply meditative and, for the
first
movements at any rate, rather withdrawn and tentative, as befits the mood
of
mourning. His playing becomes more extrovert, growing in stature until the
great
Ciaccona, which is magnificent.
Comparisons with
Morimur will be obvious. The performances are, I
think,
comparable in terms of quality. However, the Hilliards and Poppen take a
deeper
academic route into the music, including more chorale examples to
illustrate
the point. That is not to criticise them; if anything I would encourage
the
curious listener to go to that disc next after this one if they want to
explore
more. One advantage that
Moriumur has is that Poppen also plays the
Ciaccona
without the singers, something Nikolitch doesn’t, but perhaps
considerations
of space played a part here. The double-performance of the Ciaccona, with
voices
and violin, makes the point very well, though I think most listeners would
probably
be happier with either violin
or voices for repeated listening, and
there
are plenty of first-rate performances of the Partita alone that allow you
to
do just that.
The real USP of this disc, however, is that all of this profound soul
searching
is almost a mere curtain-raiser to what is perhaps the finest recorded
performance
of the Fauré Requiem I have come across. The listener moves
straight
from the final note of the Partita into the first chord of the Requiem -
which
is in the same key - and the effect is both startling and moving. The
first
chord from the LSO ensemble is majestic and sumptuous, pulsing with
emotion
and portent, and their chamber size approach works brilliantly, filling
the
church acoustic with rich, sumptuous sound without ever overwhelming the
text.
Touches like the horns at the end of the
Sanctus or the rich
strings
of the
Agnus Dei work brilliantly, and the organ has been blended
into
the texture so that it is present and characterful without dominating.
Similarly,
Tenebrae are the perfect size and shape of choir for this recording, and
they
mould their sound to meet each aspect of the piece so that there is never
any
suggestion of a one-size-fits-all approach. They sound rich and fulsome in
the
opening
Requiem aeternam and the
Sanctus, but the sound made
by
the tenors and altos at the beginning of the
Offertorio is pale,
almost
emaciated, as befits the supplicatory nature of the text. A spine-tingling
touch
of the ethereal characterises the
Lux aeterna and the valedictory
brightness
of the
In Paradisum is a delight, setting a sublime seal over the
end
of the disc. Nigel Short’s pacing of the work is masterful
throughout,
unfolding the score with affection and the right balance of seriousness
and
tenderness.
The most recent Fauré Requiem to come my way was that of
Accentus
on Naïve, which is very fine but rather miserly in its running
time,
especially as it’s most frequently available at full price. I would
now
turn to Tenebrae above any other for this work, and it’s helped that
the
disc as a whole is rather marvellous, exceptionally well performed and
very
intelligently programmed. That, combined with LSO Live’s superb
sound
and budget price, makes it a definite winner.
Simon Thompson
See also review by John Quinn
