Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
  Choral Works
  Warum ist das Licht gegeben dem Mühseligen Op.74/1 [10:34]
  Intermezzo Op.119/1 [4:04]
  Fünf Gesänge Op.104 [13:22]
  Schicksalslied Op.54 [14:59]
  Drei Motetten Op.110 [8:56]
  Drei Quartette [7:23]
  Fest- und Gedenksprüche Op.109 [10:29]
  Capella Amsterdam/Daniel Reuss
  Philip Mayers and Angela Gassenhuber (pianos)
  rec. 2012, Waalse Kerk, Amsterdam
  HARMONIA MUNDI HMC902160 [70:08]
	    Throughout his career, Brahms aim was to marry the discipline 
          and structural techniques of the old masters he so admired to modern 
          Romantic expression. In his orchestral music, that process reached its 
          triumphant climax in the Passacaglia that ends the Fourth Symphony, 
          but the same ambition also governed his choral music, a useful survey 
          of which is provided in this disc. Roman Hinke’s booklet note 
          summarises this admirably when he describes Brahms’ aim as “to 
          yoke the sublime polyphonic art of the founding fathers, the old Netherlanders, 
          the genius Palestrina and his contemporaries, the Venetians and their 
          countless disciples, to the Romantic world of feeling and experience, 
          and thus de facto to bring about a fruitful renaissance in 
          musical practice.” He was very successful in doing so, as this 
          disc proves.
          
          The title track, Warum ist das Licht, gets the air of lamentation 
          about right, and the atmosphere manages to be melancholy without being 
          doleful. Here, as elsewhere in the disc, Capella Amsterdam demonstrate 
          impressive clarity of approach. The motet’s second section, Lasset 
          uns, lifts the whole thing heavenwards, brightening the tone along 
          with the upward movement of the vocal line, and the third movement does 
          so all the more.
          
          The three motets exemplify the composer’s later style, and are 
          very much under the influence of the Venetians and, north of the border, 
          of Schütz. The choir's tone becomes mellowed and more inward, 
          as befits both the style and intensity of sacred subject matter, and 
          listening to this, for me, posed interesting questions about the composer's 
          famously sceptical religious outlook. Is this really the music of someone 
          utterly devoid of faith?
          
          Away from a church context, Brahms wrote several part songs for middle 
          class choral society groups, and he laboured long and hard over them. 
          That makes them beautiful gems. Two Nightwatches contrast very 
          well, one a bittersweet meditation on love, the other a more comforting 
          vision of divine protection. Last Happiness is then full of 
          comforting Romantic glow, and the sound world of Im Herbst 
          is as autumnal as the text's melancholy subject material, taking 
          a melting turn towards the major at the end.
          
          The Schicksalslied sounds marvellously intimate in the four-hand 
          piano version. There is a particularly beautiful glow over beginning 
          and end, and this performance underlines the consolatory nature of the 
          text, in a way that the central section seems to deny.
          
          The Three Quartets gain a whole extra layer of complexity with 
          the addition of the piano line, more evidence of composer's intense 
          commitment to what others might take as a throwaway project. The effect 
          is actually rather profound in Sehnsucht, more folksy and carefree 
          in Abendlied, while Nächtens is more febrile and uncertain, 
          both exciting and unsettling.
          
          The Fest und Gedenksprüche, on the other hand, are complex 
          public utterances and they rise to it impressively. Listen, for example, 
          to the figure on “nicht zu Schanden” in the first song, 
          or the polychoral rhythmic resonances in the second, illustrating the 
          divisions of the kingdom of which it speaks. The effect is thrilling, 
          and it was here most of all that I noticed the hand of Schütz; even 
          maybe a touch of Palestrina? The bonus of the Op. 119 Intermezzo 
          is delicately played and thoughtful, perhaps adding more atmosphere 
          than serving any other function.
          
          Throughout, the recording engineers keep some air around the sound, 
          giving a sense of space without losing the mostly intimate feeling. 
          Reuss’s direction manages to evoke a real 
          sense of profundity yet simultaneously intimacy, and the choir’s 
          sound never has a touch of the clinical that can infect some British 
          choirs in unaccompanied choral work like this. The sound is tight and 
          harmonious but beautifully blended with just the right sense of space. 
          As a curated introduction to some of Brahms’ choral music, this 
          does the job very nicely.
          
          Simon Thompson