For some listeners Anton Bruckner’s faith,
like that of Olivier Messiaen, prevents them from engaging with either’s
oeuvre. Then there’s the perennial problem of their prolixity,
perceived or otherwise. That said, even Bruckner devotees will admit
to blind spots. I’ve heard the
Te Deum called the Tedium,
and that by someone who’s sung in numerous performances of the
piece. Strangely enough it was the work that attracted me to Bruckner
in the first place. The recordings in question were Daniel Barenboim
and the Chicago Symphony on LP and Herbert von Karajan and the Wiener
Philharmoniker on a moodily filmed VHS tape (both DG).
Not the most persuasive performance, I admit, but then came Matthew
Best and his Corydon Singers on Hyperion. I was captivated by that one
for a while, but soon afterwards I came across Bernard Haitink’s
Vienna recording for Philips. With a splendid quartet - Robert Holl,
Vinson Cole, Susanne Mentzer and Karita Mattila – and a glorious
recording, that version eclipsed all others. Admittedly Eugen Jochum’s
classic DG account comes close in terms of amplitude and ecstasy, but
I do find the 1960s sound somewhat fatiguing.
Jochum’s
Psalm 150 and the
Mass No. 2 –
the latter on a fine Originals twofer – are rather bright as well;
still, both performances are suffused with an authority that surely
derives from an intimate knowledge of these scores. Indeed, Bruckner
is at his most convincing and coherent when approached with well-founded
confidence; that's no guard against lurking
longueurs, but
it certainly helps. So, here are my comparative versions for this review;
Haitink for the
Te Deum and Jochum for
Psalm 150 and
the
Mass No. 2. I shall also touch on Best’s recordings
of all three works.
Helmuth Rilling is a distinguished choral conductor, so there’s
no doubting his credentials here. True, his discography is weighted
towards the baroque, but look closely and you’ll see Berio, Dalbavie
and Gubaidulina in there as well. I last encountered Rilling in a very
decent recording of Benjamin Britten’s
War
Requiem. These Bruckner recordings aren’t new, though.
All three works are included in a nifty box from
Brilliant;
the
Te Deum is also part of
Helmuth Rilling: Personal Selection
(Hänssler CD 98.008),
Psalm 150 can be found in
Romantic
Choral Music (Hänssler CD 98.460) and the
Mass No. 2 is
buried deep in the 20-disc
Bruckner: The Collection (Profil
13007).
Bruckner began work on the
Te Deum in 1881 and completed it
in 1884; that makes it roughly concurrent with his Sixth and Seventh
symphonies. For chorus, soloists, orchestra and organ
ad libitum
it’s a surprisingly compact piece – it lasts around 25 minutes
– that’s anything but tedious. In Rilling’s hands
the hyper-intense
Te Deum laudamus may lack the purifying heat
of Jochum's and Haitink’s versions, but that’s by
no means a criticism. It’s a spacious reading – scrupulous
even - with a believable balance between orchestra and soloists; the
latter are pretty good, both individually and as a team. and the Stuttgart
choir sing with clarity and a real sense of devotion.
Indeed, as the performance progressed I became acutely aware of its
deeply spiritual character. That’s particularly true of the
Te
ergo quaesumus, in which the soloists are hushed but not over-reverential.
Theirs is a delicate but necessary inwardness, and Rilling calibrates
his accompaniment accordingly. Haitink, Jochum and Best – the
latter with a very robust organ part – are all built on more generous
lines, and that makes for extremely visceral performances.
By contrast Rilling’s
Te Deum seems more austere, especially
in its quieter moments. His soloists continue to impress, but it’s
tenor Christian Elsner who sings with the purest of tone and the loveliest
of lines. I mentioned the word ‘scrupulous’ earlier, but
it’s not meant in a derogatory sense; actually, such care gives
rise to a sensitively shaped, beautifully integrated performance. In
short, this is the
Te Deum one seldom hears, the inner Bruckner
given voice in a most eloquent and affecting way.
Rilling may lack some vividness at the outset, but the start of the
Aeterna fac has all the boldness one could wish. Again I was
struck by the conductor’s even-handed approach to this score;
nothing is forced or fiddled, it flowers so naturally. The recording,
similarly judicious, is firm in the bass and clean in the treble. No,
Hänssler can’t match Philips’ heaven-storming sonics for
Haitink, nor can Hyperion for Best, but then Rilling’s
Te
Deum is a less overt, more personal affair. So much so that the
start of the
Salvum fac is like eavesdropping on private thoughts
and prayers.
Something else that makes this recording stand out is the hear-through
quality of the orchestral playing. One registers far more detail and
nuance than usual, and then marvels at the simple, artless beauty of
Bruckner’s writing. Rilling doesn’t rush his fences in the
finale, where the emboldened soloists add to the growing sense of anticipation.
One can really hear Rilling’s baroque skills at work in the buoyant,
clearly delineated choral contributions; the women in particular are
splendid, their combined voices seeming to batter at the very gates
of heaven. As for those final invocations they’re hurled into
the empyrean with a fierce hope and certainty that’s utterly overwhelming.
Goodness, I’ve not been so comprehensively unravelled by the
Te
Deum in a long while. This is an astonishing performance in every
respect, all the more so because it's built on core musical values.
That doesn’t mean there’s no drama – far from it –
just that the work is laid out in a way that reveals
all its
virtues. By comparison Haitink and Jochum now seem a little
too
theatrical at times. I still have a soft spot for Best's
Te Deum
though; it’s not always tidy and the soloists are variable, but
it's played and sung with a generosity and gusto that’s
hard to resist. In many ways Rilling’s
Te Deum is a valuable
corrective, rather like this liberating account of Janáček’s
Glagolitic
Mass that I reviewed recently.
Bruckner’s setting of Psalm 150 was a festival cantata commissioned
for the opening of a grand musical expo in Vienna in 1892. Unfortunately
the piece was not ready in time, so it was scheduled for the closing
ceremony instead. Neither that nor a subsequent performance came to
pass, and the work was finally premiered at the inaugural concert of
the Gesellschaft für Musikfreunde on 13 November 1892.
Psalm 150 – which lasts around nine minutes - opens with
high-lying Hallelujahs and pulsing timps. Rilling seems even more incisive
here than he is in the
Te Deum; the recording is leaner and
brighter too. In fact I found the treble somewhat edgy, especially in
the choral outbursts. Soprano Pamela Coburn is just fine though, and
Rilling brings admirable clarity to the performance. As for the crowning
climax – complete with stratospheric sopranos – it’s
simply hair-raising. Jochum’s reading is also strong, if somewhat
foursquare at times, with less of the lift that Rilling brings to the
piece.
So, a little disappointing after that
Te Deum, but then just
about anything else would be. Listeners may wish to try the Best recording;
it’s quite tubby – listen to the rude brass – but
it’s a welcome antidote to all that German seriousness. Leslie
Wright liked it so much he described it as ‘stunning and uplifting’
(
review).
It’s a long time since I heard Barenboim’s account of the
piece on DG, but I have positive memories of the performance. It’s
been reissued – along with his Bruckner Ninth – on an Eloquence
CD that Tony Duggan
reviewed
back in 2000.
At around 42 minutes the
Mass No. 2 is by far the longest item
here. It’s also the one that has the most devotional character,
the chorus filling those votive spaces with their glorious tones. Commissioned
for the dedication of a new cathedral it’s scored for mixed choir
and wind band, the latter of which underlines and punctuates the radiant
choral parts. It’s a slow-wending work, and Rilling accesses its
spiritual centre more effectively than most. As for the brass they have
a splendid ring in the
Gloria and the
Credo, both
of which are prefaced with the usual priestly intonations (very distant
in the Best recording).
This Mass setting isn't as tightly focused as either the
Te Deum
or
Psalm 150 but it does have vigour and variety, especially
in the keenly felt rhythms and bright sonorities of the
Credo.
Once again there’s a lucency to the performance – helped
in part by a clear separation of voices – that probably owes much
to Rilling’s experience with Bach. The start of the
Sanctus
falls like soft rain – this really is an exceptional choir, at
the peak of their powers – while the
Benedictus and
Agnus
Dei are no less nourishing. The orchestral skeins, beautifully
balanced and well caught, bring a rubied glow to the proceedings.
After that it’s difficult to think of comparisons. Predictably
perhaps Jochum’s account of the Mass shows its age in terms of
performing style and sonics; still, he’s a solid, safe Brucknerian
who can’t be overlooked. For more modern alternatives go for Best;
some might argue that his treble sound is just too English for this
repertoire, but in mitigation he does have the most piquant brass of
all. Failing that try Valeri Polyansky on Chandos (
review).
I’ve no idea why these Rilling performances have been recycled
so often, but I’m pleased to have them in a single reissue such
as this. Given its age and history I’m surprised to see the CD
listed on Amazon UK at £12.99, but then I've long given up trying
to fathom their pricing policies. The download is pitched at £7.99 on
Qobuz, which seems reasonable; it costs closer to £9 on eClassical.
Good basic notes with sung texts and translations complete the package.
A stand-out
Te Deum; the partnering works are very well prepared
and performed, too.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
