This most logical coupling of two of Janáček’s greatest
compositions of the last decade of his life is not all that
common on disc. It is, then, my pleasure to welcome the recent
release of this disc. The numbering of these seminal pieces
is presumably taken from the authoritative Janáček’s
Works: A Catalogue of the Music and Writings of Leoš Janáček
by Nigel Simeone, John Tyrell and Alena Nemcová, published
by Oxford University Press in 1997. This is something which
lately has begun appearing on recordings of Janáček. It
should be noted that the version of the Mass used here is the
familiar one that was published after its premičre by the Brno
Arts Society in 1927 and not the reconstructed original version
by Paul Wingfield that has increasingly been used in performances
and that was championed by Sir Charles Mackerras. The main question
here, then, is how do these new accounts stack up against the
many recordings of these works? As far as the identical coupling
is concerned, I have no hesitation in claiming them to be at
the very top, ahead of Rattle (EMI) and Tilson Thomas (Sony).
When one is considering the individual works, however, it becomes
more complicated — particularly concerning the Glagolitic Mass.
Overall, Wit and his Warsaw forces have the measure of this
extraordinary mass. If one had heard only this recording, I
am confident it would provide real satisfaction. However, there
are enough shortcomings here when one starts comparing this
with the best of its predecessors that the very good becomes
the enemy of the best. First off, while the quartet of soloists
is more than adequate, I find the important soprano and especially
the tenor to be overly operatic, histrionic even. If you compare
them to, say, the soloists on Leoš Svárovský’s (Ultraphon),
or Mackerras’s first recording (Supraphon), or Gabriela Benačková
for Tilson Thomas (Sony) or Beno Blachut for Ančerl (Supraphon),
you will understand what I mean. Still, they are more than acceptable,
and the chorus is wonderful on this new recording. The orchestra,
too, does itself proud for the most part. One irritating passage
that should have been retaken concerns the high trumpet solo
at 1:05 and again 1:18 in the Veruju. It is especially
clear, but also very flat. I compared this passage with the
same on several recordings; while some of the others are not
as clear, none are really flat. Otherwise, I have no complaints
with the performance per se. Wit’s interpretation, though,
is not all to my taste. His tempos are questionable in several
of the movements. In the Slava movement, Wit suddenly
speeds up the tempo from about 5:20, ending the movement in
a blur of sound with the important timpani making little impact.
Then he takes the Veruju at a livelier than normal tempo,
resulting in a jauntiness not in keeping with the text. Most
of the other recordings with which I am familiar clock in between
11:30 and 12:00+ minutes for this movement, whereas Wit manages
to get through it in 10:52. Robert Shaw on Telarc is even faster
by a few seconds. On the other hand, in the Svet where
the “dance” begins with “Plna sut nebo”, Wit retains
a rather stodgy tempo where most conductors take this section
at a swifter tempo than the preceding “Svet…Gospod, Bog Sabaoth”
(Tilson Thomas ridiculously so!) and more or less retain this
tempo to the end. I have no reservations about either the Gospodi
pomiluj or the Agneče Božij sections. The Introduction
and Intrada movements also come off well. That said, throughout
the Mass, the recorded sound, while rich and full, lacks bass
impact. There is plenty of bass, but it is on the muddy side
so that the important timpani parts do not tell as they should.
The very end of the Intrada is an example where the last two
timpani strokes sound more like a single note. The organ, however,
is magnificent and sounds as if it has been recorded more closely
than normal — even unnaturally so. One miscalculation that may
be due more to the engineers than the conductor is the long
space between the organ postlude and the Intrada. The latter
should begin as soon as the reverberation from the organ has
died away, but here one has to wait what seems like an interminably
long time before the Intrada starts and this lessens its impact.
As far as recordings of the Glagolitic Mass in its revised form
are concerned, I would place Wit after Ančerl,
Svárovský and Mackerras
- though Mackerras’ first recording also contains a few changes
taken from the original score - and ahead of the others with
which I am familiar per my comparative
review of recordings on this website. At the time I wrote
that review I had not heard (or not recently enough to remember)
Chailly, Tennstedt, Masur or Kempe in the Mass. Their recordings,
as well as those by Rattle,
Kubelik, Bakala, Svárovský,
and this new Wit are all available for listening on the Internet
on Spotify for free. I listened to excerpts from all of them
while writing this review and was astounded by the differences
in interpretation, from the generally slow and dull Chailly
to Tennstedt’s race to the finish line.
What makes this new disc indispensable is the Sinfonietta.
For both performance and sound it belongs in the top echelon
of recordings of this dazzling work. This was recorded in the
same hall as the Mass, but at an earlier date. For whatever
reason, the sound here is terrific. The crucial timpani make
the necessary impact both in the opening Allegretto fanfares
and in its reprise in the last movement. The orchestra as a
whole is outstanding with special praise due to the brass and
winds. The trumpets are glorious, and in tune, and the tuba
and trombones are particularly good in the third movement —
better than in most other recordings. Wit uses the larger tubular
bells in the third and fourth movements, which seems right to
me, rather than the tinkling glockenspiel some conductors employ.
According to the “catalogue” cited above, it is unclear which
the composer intended, much as it is in the case in the finale
of Sibelius’ Fourth Symphony. I should mention that the strings,
too, leave nothing to be desired here. I would now place Wit’s
account on the same level as those of Ančerl and Mackerras
and ahead of Abbado and Serebrier,
among others. I know I shall return to it when I want to hear
the Sinfonietta.
Naxos, as usual, does not stint on its production values. There
are excellent notes on the works by Richard Whitehouse and detailed
biographical sketches on the artists as well as the background
of the orchestra and choir. Also unlike some other Naxos recordings,
you don’t have to go to the website for the text of the Mass.
It is printed in the booklet with an English translation. On
small point: while most of the timings on the back of the jewel
case are accurate, the first movement of the Sinfonietta is
listed as 2:32 where it is actually 2:22. In my opinion, then,
Wit’s is the best option now for this particular combination
of works on one disc. The Sinfonietta alone makes it indispensable.
Leslie Wright
see also review
by Nick Barnard
Warsaw Philharmonic Choir/Henryk Wojnarowski 