Rachmaninov’s All-Night
Vigil is not only one of the crowning
glories of Russian church music; it
is also the work that the composer himself
regarded as his finest achievement.
For the ever self-deprecating Rachmaninov,
this was one of the few works in his
output that brought him genuine pride
and satisfaction. It has also in recent
years become one of the most fashionable
in the choral repertoire and this disc
by the Estonians under Paul Hillier
was one that I had eagerly anticipated
hearing.
After repeated listening,
this performance has made it to my ‘certainly
worthy’ list, but is a fairly far down
on the desert island roster. There are
some things that set it apart though.
One is the use of the orthodox chant
intonations, which most recordings omit.
Vladimir Miller seems just barely in
possession of the requisite notes. They
are there and they are audible, but
it almost seems as though he has developed
some sort of hyper-technique as opposed
to being able to just open up and sing
down there. It does not detract from
the performance, but I did find myself
wishing him well each time I heard him
sing.
Nor am I completely
convinced that Hillier has achieved
the kind of spiritual depth that is
so much a part of this music. Compared
to Valery Polyanski’s stunning performance
from a few years ago with the then USSR
Ministry of Culture Chamber Choir, or
Tonu Kaljuste’s magnificent recording
with the Swedish Radio Choir, Hillier
seems to approach the music more from
an ethereal stance than a profound one.
There is no questioning the ability
of the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber
Choir, which is arguably one of the
finest ensembles in Europe. There does
seem however to be more emphasis placed
on controlled legato and perfect blend
than there is on the overwhelming sense
of religious ecstasy that is sewn into
every fiber of this music.
What I missed most,
perhaps, is the almost gritty sound
of the Russian choirs in the more energetic
passages. Sometimes a less refined choral
tone is what is called for. I have always
been less than satisfied with choirs
who sing this music too "prettily"
for lack of a better word. The Estonians,
for all of their wonderful singing,
miss the boat here in terms of romantic,
fervent abandon. It is almost as if
the religious oppression that the Russians
suffered through most of the twentieth
century finds its release in their performance
of this music. This is an effect that
I found on the whole absent in Hillier’s
reading.
The true standout of
this performance is tenor Mati Turi,
whose three solo appearances are nothing
short of stunning. His clear, rich tenor
sails about the rest of the choir, and
he knows the exact mood and temperament
necessary to convey his texts. His is
a presence that is thrilling and soothing
at the same time, an angelic presence
in divine music.
Although I would not
put this as my first choice, it would
be a nice addition to any library, and
is certainly a worthy interpretation.
For followers of Hillier, certainly
give it a spin. But make sure to have
one of the other two abovementioned
performances in your library as well.
Kevin Sutton
Iris Oja, contralto 
