This Verdi Requiem was recorded as part of the composer's anniversary
year, and I thought it very special. It's a sign of how big a deal this
performance was that the Bavarian forces were prepared to decamp
en
masse to Vienna for the performance, and the setting of the Musikverein
lends an extra touch of glamour and style. The beautifully rounded acoustic
works very well indeed: the opening in particular is so finely judged as to
be a work of art in itself, and it's one automatic advantage that this
performance has over
the CD one that was recorded in Munich. The climaxes are
given just the right amount of space around them, and another advantage that
the Blu-Ray has over the CDs is the really excellent surround sound. The
engineers, perhaps inspired by the venue, do a brilliant job of capturing
the sound. They place the offstage trumpets with pinpoint accuracy at the
start of the
Tuba Mirum, for example, and you can even hear the
plunging strings through the cacophony as the chorus enters. The balance is
very finely managed throughout, and the chorus is captured with great
clarity, too.
Most of what makes this
Requiem special, though, is down to
Jansons, who sculpts a performance of mastery. The aching poignancy of the
opening is profound, and he directs the long span of the
Sequenza
with unerring style and a feel for keeping things moving: there is a lovely
sense of ebb and flow to the
Recordare, in particular. He is slower
than usual in the
Dies Irae, but still manages to generate
excitement, while the
Rex Tremendae is faster than usual but still
sounds tense. He also keeps a tight control over the chorus and orchestra,
generating singing and playing of pinpoint accuracy and great beauty.
The soloists are all from Eastern Europe, and that's most obvious in the
case of Orlin Anastassov, whose voice is very distinctive but whose diction
sounds as though it was lifted out of an orthodox service. Saimir Pirgu
sounds least comfortable out of the four of them, and his voice sometimes
spreads under pressure, but when he hits the target he does so satisfyingly.
The ladies are finer. The smoky, sultry voice of Marina Prudenskaya injects
a touch of darkness that is very welcome and very colourful. She adds
brilliant flavour to the movements in which she participates, and those that
she leads (most obviously the
Liber scriptus) sound fantastic.
Krassimira Stoyanova is just as exciting. She is fully inside the tessitura,
but her performance clearly builds to a barnstorming performance of the
Libera me, which she lives as though it were an operatic death
scene. I found her enormously winning, as well as very exciting, and she
brings the final section to life brilliantly.
Not only is the sound excellent, but throughout the camera direction is
unfussy and intelligently focused, putting us both within the orchestra and
in front of Jansons. The Blu-Ray picture quality is also first rate: you can
almost read the music in certain places. This disc impressed me so much that
I think it's now a first choice for this work if you want it on film. It
certainly beats
Abbado's Berlin performance with the look-at-me solos of Angela
Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna and, while I retain a huge affection for it, it
also beats Karajan's flawed, misdirected film from La Scala, though I'll
always love
Abbado's Edinburgh Festival performance from 1982. There are
no extras on this Blu-Ray, and it's rather expensive for a single disc but,
in spite of these reservations, this is now the one to go for.
Simon Thompson
