"Von Herzen - Möge es wieder - zu Herzen 
          gehen!" ("From the heart – may it go – to the heart!"); 
          these are the words Beethoven wrote at the head of his monumental 
          Missa Solemnis. Whatever the precise purpose of the inscription, 
          there is no doubting the overwhelming emotional and spiritual impact 
          of this work in a worthy performance. Carlo Maria Giulini was, in many 
          ways, an ideal interpreter. His grounding in Italian opera makes him 
          alert to the powerful dramatic scenarios evoked by the music. But he 
          was also, of course, a most sensitive conductor in the classical symphonic 
          repertoire, and his feeling for the architecture of the work is palpable. 
          So is his awareness of the wonderful textural contrasts that Beethoven 
          employs, perhaps the most striking being the transition from the Sanctus 
          into the Benedictus. Here, exultant Osannas give way to a mysterious 
          Praeludium, scored mainly for lower woodwind and strings, with 
          quiet organ. As the Praeludium dies away in the orchestral depths, 
          a solo violin enters ethereally on its top G, accompanied by nothing 
          more than two flutes – a vision of the Holy Spirit descending to earth 
          from on high, and sublime in its beauty. Giulini brings this off, and 
          other comparable moments of intense poetry, with perfect judgement allied 
          to a great simplicity, which is exactly what is needed. It underlines 
          his greatest gift as a performer, his humility, and his ability to subjugate 
          himself totally to the wishes of the composer and the requirements of 
          the work in hand. 
        
 
        
In this quest, he is most ably assisted by the other 
          performers. The Philharmonia Chorus was at its very best at this time, 
          and sings magnificently, all parts negotiating the horrendous difficulties 
          of the choral writing with apparent ease and glorious tone. It is a 
          great pity, by the way that the inspirational work of their chorus-master, 
          Wilhelm Pitz, is not credited. His work contributed so much to many 
          great recordings of this period, such as Klemperer’s Mahler 2, or Giulini’s 
          own Verdi Requiem and 4 Pezzi Sacri. But let this pass – we should 
          thank the BBC for issuing this memorable performance. 
        
 
        
It has to be pointed out, though, that the circumstances 
          in which it was recorded were far from ideal. St. Paul’s is a cavernous 
          building with a notoriously lengthy echo. The engineers did a remarkable 
          job, but they couldn’t negate the properties of the building. The result 
          is that the sound is inevitably mushy and confused for some of the time, 
          and much important detail – the woodwind writing is a special joy in 
          this work – gets submerged. The microphone placings have also rendered 
          it somewhat lop-sided, so that the altos and basses of the chorus lose 
          out in comparison to the sopranos and tenors. 
        
 
        
The same is true in the case of the four soloists, 
          though they make a very impressive and well balanced team. Zylis-Gara 
          has the most demanding part, with high Bs and Cs in the Benedictus, 
          and she sings with unforced expression and youthfully fresh tone. 
        
 
        
The two disc-set is completed by an account of Schubert’s 
          c minor Symphony, the so-called "Tragic Symphony". It 
          is a very immature work, which in no way really lives up to its soubriquet. 
          But it has many lovely things in it, and also many of Schubert’s ‘fingerprints’ 
          – the delicious melodies, the harmonic side-slips, the sure sense of 
          instrumental colour etc. It is here given an affectionate performance 
          by Giulini and the New Philharmonia. 
        
 
        
Returning to the Missa Solemnis for a moment, 
          I suppose the ultimate triumph of the performance is that it makes one 
          constantly marvel at the awesome imagination which created this piece, 
          one of the summits of European art. Giulini leads us to that summit 
          with quiet assurance and consummate skill. 
          Gwyn Parry-Jones