Leoš JANÁČEK (1854-1928)
Mša Glagolskaja (Glagolitic Mass) (1927) [41:24]
Vecné evangelium (The Eternal Gospel) (1914) [20:50]
Eva Dřizgová (soprano), Hana Štolfová-Bandová (contralto), Vladimir Doležal (tenor), Jiři Sulženko (bass)
Martin Jakubiček (organ)
Czech Philharmonic Chorus of Brno/Petr Fiala
Czech Symphony Orchestra of Brno/Leoš Svárovský
rec. 5-6 January 1999, Stadion Studio and Church of St Augustine, Brno, Czech Republic
Reviewed as a 16-bit download from
eclassical.com
No booklet
Originally released on Ultraphon
ARCODIVA UP 0011-2 231 [62:23]
Like most collectors I’ve always enjoyed rummaging
through stacks of discs in a music shop; alas, with the demise of so
many trusted outlets and the ease of internet orders that’s now
a distant memory. However, browsing online can be just as rewarding.
It was on one such trawl that I came across this Glagolitic Mass,
first reviewed
by Marc Bridle in 2000. I’m always delighted to hear the work,
a new performing version and recording of which has earned high praise
from Leslie Wright (review).
That’s the second such reconstruction –
Paul Wingfield’s preceded it – and while I’m all for
such scholarship I still find the standard version to be immensely rewarding.
Of all the recordings I own Karel Ančerl’s 1963 account on
Supraphon is very special, not least for its transported singing (review).
Indeed, Rob Barnett characterised that aspect of the performance as
‘almost fanatical’, which is the way the piece is most often
presented. But is that the only way to play this mighty Mass?
As I’ve now discovered, the answer is a resounding no.
This ArcoDiva release starts as it means to continue, with a splendid,
ringing account of the Introduction (Úvod). It’s not
all about brilliance though, for conductor Leoš Svárovský also
brings out the fine details that tend to shrivel in the presence of
too much heat. The Brno orchestra, Janáček’s home band as
it were, make a very good impression here; and it’s not just the
brass that deserve praise, for all sections play with a unanimity and
character that one rarely hears from a provincial ensemble. Much of
the credit for this must go to Svárovský, whose thoughtful, steadying
presence is felt throughout.
Most surprising, perhaps, is the quality of this recording; it goes
deep and it captures Janáček’s unique sonorities in a most
natural and appealing way. This is the kind of repertoire that brings
out the worst in some engineers and conductors, so it’s a real
pleasure to hear through all the noise at last. The enjoyment doesn’t
end there, for Petr Fiala’s pure and passionate chorus are magnificent
in the Kyrie (Gospodi pomiluj); there’s a genuine sense
of devotion here that more febrile versions tend to miss. Indeed, it’s
the very personal nature of this performance that makes it
so intensely moving.
The soloists are uniformly excellent, with no sign of the dreaded Slavic
wobble; the women are particularly athletic, vaulting over Janáček’s
daunting hurdles with aplomb. Svárovský delivers a now rippling, now
urgent Gloria (Slava), in which the all-important timps are
powerful but not overbearing. The Czech strings are well caught, as
are the thrilling invocations of the well-balanced choir. There’ll
be a special place in heaven for the trumpets and trombones though,
for they are simply glorious. True, those drenching Amens aren’t
the tidal waves they sometimes are, but what we get instead is a more
contained – but no less affecting – swell and surge of relief
and rejoicing.
I can’t remember when a performance of the Glagolitic Mass
has swept me off my feet as emphatically as this one has; in some ways
it’s as if I’m rediscovering the piece, and in the roller-coaster
ride of daily reviews that’s very rare. The opposing choruses
are nimble in the Credo (Věruju) – the harps have
seldom sounded so present, so much a part of the orchestral
tapestry – and those repeated string figures anchor it all so
well. Again it’s the more intimate, prayerful aspects of this
performance that really stand out; even the organ part, normally taken
by stellar soloists and played accordingly, is kept on a very human
scale.
The tenor and bass – Vladimir Doležal and Jiři Sulženko
respectively – are wonderfully focused and the Sanctus (Svet)
finds the quartet at their heartfelt best. Janáček’s rhythms,
which sometimes mire the unwary or unskilled, are nicely articulated
and Svárovský shapes and projects the music with consummate skill. I
can’t recall a Glagolitic Mass – on record or in
the concert hall – where the score’s intricacies have emerged
with such ease and artlessness; that’s even true of the Agnus
Dei (Agneče Božij), whose Stygian elements
are perfectly pitched as well. There are moments here when I’m
reminded of the Berlioz Requiem, where so much loveliness lurks
beneath the music’s darkly turbid waters. Martin Jakubiček’s
nicely proportionate organ postlude (Varhany) and the bold,
incisive Exodus (Intrada) – oh, those divine trombones
and trumpets! – round off a truly wonderful performance.
The filler is The Eternal Gospel, Janáček’s setting
of Jaroslav Vrchlický’s poem about angelic visions and divine
promises. The cantata predates the Mass by more than a decade,
yet there are unmistakable flashes of the later work in its orchestration.
What a pity there aren’t more recordings of this striking piece;
the one I have is with Ilan Volkov, the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
and the Edinburgh Festival Chorus; the tenor and soprano soloists are
Adrian Thompson and Gweneth-Ann Jeffers respectively. One of just a
few Hyperion SACDs the disc includes The Ballad of Blanik,
The Fiddler’s Child and the Brouček suite
(review).
I’ve never really warmed to Volkov as a conductor, and listening
to his meticulously prepared Gospel reminds me why I’ve
not played the disc in ages. Minutes into Svárovský’s intense
and idiomatic account and the contrast could not be more stark; even
Pavel Wallinger’s violin solo is more beautifully wrought. The
ArcoDiva recording is full-bodied and relatively close, and that makes
for a most involving listen. Ironically, Jeffers is the one with the
wobble, and Thompson can’t match Doležal when it comes to
feeling and a sense of line. This is one of those times when native
Czech singers really do turn a fine performance into an unforgettable
one.
As in the Mass Svárovský proves a sympathetic and steadfast
guide; he has a keen ear for Janáček’s sound-world and keeps
his finger on the musical pulse throughout. By comparison Volkov is
pale and unpersuasive, his performers precise but without passion. Yes,
The Eternal Gospel isn't in the same league as the Mass,
but it’s not an insignificant work either. That said, it needs
strong advocacy, which is exactly what it gets from Svárovský and his
utterly committed singers and players. The sound, meatier than that
provided for the Mass, is still excellent; depth, detail and
drama are all there in spades. Recording director Vladimir Koronthály,
sound engineer Václav Roubal and the rest of the technical team really
deserve a round of applause for their magnificent efforts.
The only blemish here is the lack of booklet, but unless you absolutely
must have this as a download I'd urge you to click on the Buy
button above and order the disc direct from MusicWeb International.
Epiphanies aplenty; mandatory listening for all Janáček fans.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
