Rachmaninov wrote little
sacred music but some of what there
is has been well served by the recording
business, particularly the All-Night
Vigil (what Anglicans and others
call Vespers). Better known than
the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom,
his Vespers were, as far as anyone
knows, primarily written for concert
performance whereas the Liturgy ties
in very much with practical, liturgical
practice. In listening to the music
it is probably best to bear this in
mind, treating the setting as a ritualistic
offering composed within certain age-old
conventions rather than an integrated,
late romantic choral work. The format
is that of a Celebrant or Deacon chanting
text in traditional plainsong (antiphon)
followed by a choral response
that Rachmaninov has set. There are
a total of 23 sections and there may
be several responses within a section.
The style of the music
is partly determined by the Russian
Orthodox Church rules that Rachmaninov
chose to obey. These demanded that sung
words should be clearly heard which
meant eschewing any clever stuff such
as elaborate polyphony, and that there
should be no accompanying instruments.
The rules clearly derive from the Catholic
Church's edicts made during the Council
of Trent in 1562, rules that many great
composers over the centuries have stretched
to the limit and beyond. Rachmaninov’s
respect for the guidelines largely determines
the style of the music.
The text is often pointed
like psalms resulting in several words
being sung to one note. This means the
harmonic rhythm (chord change) is slow,
and this, combined with the relative
lack of tension and discord, plus predominance
of major keys, means we have music that
sounds continually beautiful and relaxed.
It is music that is good for you – free
of Russian gloom and doom, extreme Tchaikovskian
emotion and, mercifully, Mahlerian angst.
However, a function of this restrictive
style is that any speeding up, rising
of pitch and so on can produce moments
of considerable intensity. These moments
come in waves and first occur at section
7. I was reminded of Purcell’s great
Anglican anthems at these points.
This brings me to a
major issue that must be recognised
when it comes to purchasing a recording
of the Liturgy. One of the reasons
Purcell came to mind is probably because
I am, in this recording, listening to
an English Cathedral-type choir. The
sound is unmistakable, particularly
as the boy-choristers’ upper notes soar
to the vaulted roof of their own chapel
at King’s College, Cambridge - one of
Europe’s great ecclesiastical buildings.
It is a sound that is a very long way
from the idiomatic rich, intense depth
of a Russian Orthodox choral rendering
with its inimitable bass tone that Russians
are specially trained for. If such authenticity
is your main consideration then you
will need to go for a Russian, or maybe
East European recording (EMI do a fine
Bulgarian version). A good bargain buy
here would be Brilliant Classics’ three-CD
set recording of the Russian State Symphony
Capella which includes the Vespers
as well (see review
).
A half-way-house compromise
on authenticity comes from an unlikely
quarter with the Kansas City Chorale
from Nimbus – a fine performance, and
in Father Andre Papkov they have a genuinely
fruity Celebrant.
What a crack English
choir is likely to produce is immaculate
musicianship, beauty and perfect intonation
(but not necessarily perfect Russian
pronunciation). This was provided ten
years ago in a Hyperion recording by
the Corydon Singers under Matthew Best.
The King’s College choir is following
in that tradition but with their boy
trebles they sound even more "English
cathedral" and compared to the
Russians, very well mannered. However,
leaving idiomatic issues aside, from
a purely musical standpoint some may
conclude this the finest performance
of all. Stephen Cleobury coaxes from
his team astonishing dynamic range that
can both move and excite, and when those
trebles soar in the acoustic for which
they are, as it were, designed, then
the spine tingles. The choir’s recording
of the Vespers a few years ago
was hugely admired and was a hot seller.
This disc deserves to do equally well.
I have to say, all
this still leaves me ambivalent about
the importance of so-called authentic
choir sound. I cannot help pondering
how I would feel if I heard the Russian
State Symphony Capella perform a core
Anglican work such as Thomas Tallis’s
sixteenth century magnificent Litany
Responses – in English, of course.
I might be shocked. I might be excited.
Who knows? I wonder if someone could
arrange it.
John Leeman