There are few more visceral choral works in the repertoire
than this, the mass setting overlaid with music of pagan pulse
and passion. The many fine CD versions include those by Rafael
Kubelik (DG) and Simon Rattle (EMI) but none are so compelling
as Karel Ančerl’s Czech Philharmonic recording, re-mastered
and reissued as part of Supraphon’s Gold Edition. Earlier this
year I watched Vaclav Neumann’s live performance with the same
orchestra – review
– but found it uninspired. Rather more successful is Sir Charles
Mackerras’s Supraphon DVD of the original version, although
I must confess his Chandos CD doesn’t persuade me of its virtues.
The Glagolitic Mass is a cruel piece, exposing orchestral
sluggishness and reticent or insecure soloists, while taxing
the chorus with its punishing tessitura. Oh, and the organ needs
to play its part as well; without its powerful presence – witness
the backward balance on the Neumann DVD – the elemental thrill
of this great piece is lost. As for the soloists, this is one
time where Slavic singers are most welcome, their distinctive
singing style well-suited to this most febrile work. On this
new recording only Ewa Marciniec and Timothy Bentch are familiar
from Antoni Wit’s Mahler 8 – review
– which narrowly missed my list of picks for 2011 because of
concerns about the multi-channel mix.
But why bother with the BD-Audio version when there’s a cheaper
CD as well? Much better sound and a multi-channel option, is
the simple answer. A random A/B comparison of that Mahler 8
in both stereo formats demonstrates the extra power and punch
of the high-res PCM recording, which also resolves detail and
timbres in a way that the standard RBCD simply can’t match.
The downside, if there is one, is that these Blu-rays can only
be played on BD players or drives, and potential sonic advantages
will be lost if the playback chain isn’t up to the mark. That
said, superior sound is not a given here, despite some labels’
rather vague assertion that performances are derived from ‘HD
sources’. The latter claim is demonstrably untrue in some Blu-ray
videos I’ve heard.
So much for the preamble, what about the performances? Well,
the Introduction to the mass is more measured than I’d expected,
the acoustic warm and spacious. I suppose one might even characterise
the presentation as soft-grained, which is not at all what I’m
used to in this piece. The Kyrie is somewhat subdued as well,
soprano Christiane Libor pleasing if unmemorable. String and
brass detail is nicely etched, but the bass is poorly focused.
That said, those rocking figures in the Gloria are superbly
articulated, timbres especially well caught. The pulse quickens
a little – but only a little – with those cascading ‘Amens’,
so ecstatically done elsewhere.
And if this sounds like damning with faint praise, that’s because
it is. Wit, so purposeful and dynamic in the Mahler 8 and Penderecki’s
Hymne an den Heiligen Daniel – review
– is unaccountably dull here; even the chorus, set back in the
soundstage, is less fervent than it should be. But that’s the
problem; this is much too civilised, too safe, qualities that
are misplaced in a work as raw and fervid as this. Indeed, this
reminds me of Charles Dutoit’s rather polite Decca recording
of the mass, which also fails to animate and impress.
There’s more urgency in the Credo, and again I was struck by
the sheer beauty and detail of Janáček’s score. Indeed,
there’s a rare translucency to the upper and lower strings,
the woodwinds wonderfully rounded, but that simply isn’t enough.
The bass, Wojciech Gierlach, is steady but unremarkable, the
spiritual and emotional core of the mass – ‘I believe’
– lacking all conviction. It’s not helped by Wit’s sluggish
pacing and that cavernous bottom end, both of which blunt the
music’s edge. As for the Sanctus, it flows less naturally than
usual. Wit opts for an overparted style here and in the Agnus
Dei that almost brings the music to its knees, not in prayer
but in defeat. The soloists aren’t particularly tidy or involved,
either.
Jaroslaw Malanowicz’s organ solo ought to be arresting, but
thanks to compromised lower frequencies the pedals are simply
swamped. For sheer heft and excitement Jane Parker-Smith on
EMI is hard to beat. Indeed, dipping into Rattle’s and Ančerl’s
recordings is like an assault on the senses; suddenly we’re
thrust into the midst of a wild, pantheistic rite, an orgy of
commotion and colour, that excites and enervates. There’s absolutely
nothing of that energy in Wit’s risk-averse reading. Otto Klemperer
once dismissed Bruno Walter’s Mahler as too Jewish; perhaps
Wit’s Janáček, sober and strangely cloistered, is just
too Catholic.
The Sinfonietta, recorded six months earlier, is much
more successful. The Warsaw brass sound splendid, the trombones
in the Moderato wonderfully rich and sonorous. It’s still too
controlled for my tastes, but at least there’s a hint – a smidgeon
– of the febrile, ear-ringing Janáček in the first and
last movements. For the full experience just sample Claudio
Abbado (DG) and Mackerras (Decca), both of which are in another
league entirely. And that sums up this Glagolitic Mass
as well; it doesn’t begin to challenge the best in the catalogue.
Some sonic virtues; its musical ones are much harder to find.
Dan Morgan
http://twitter.com/mahlerei