Mozart: Requiem

Right from the opening bars, Britten's phrasing brings everything to life. Far more than any other performance I have heard, the "Dies irae" is quite hair-raising and conjures up stormy Renaissance frescoes of the Last Judgement, in the manner of the same section in the Verdi requiem. Speeds are generally pretty fast - perhaps too fast in the "Rex tremendae majestatis", which has less weight than usual; in spite of a slight rallentando, the following words "Salva me, fons pietatis" are not quite gentle and pleading enough in character.

The recorded sound is a little disappointing for 1971. The mono recording has a slightly claustrophobic quality, and there is occasionally a touch of high-pitched crackling/ whistling, sounding like radio interference. However, it is perfectly listenable, and one quickly forgets the limitations in the excitement of the performance. We can be glad that such an inspired occasion was preserved for posterity at all.

While I would not want to be without this compelling record, perhaps I wouldn't want it to be the only version of the work in my collection either. The Mozart Requiem has a gentler, autumnal melancholic side to it as well, which is maybe not fully apparent in this overwhelmingly dramatic account. There are also incidental, unimportant lapses in ensemble, as one would normally expect in a live performance. Those used to "authentic" performances will find the chorus quite large-sounding; however, with such incisive singing, this has its advantages too in terms of power and excitement.

All in all, I would say that this is essential listening, whatever other records of the work you might have. The 26 mins. of Britten in conversation with Donald Mitchell is an interesting make-weight too.

Britten's speeds are on the whole sprightly to fast, particularly so (as the reviewer below notes) in the Rex Tremendae. The authentic performance school was back in its vociferous infancy in 1971, but I wouldn't suggest for a moment that Britten was following their tenets. Rather, this is one composer's instinctive feel for how another's music should 'go'. There is a wonderful rhythmic bounce to the Kyrie fugue and to Quam olim Abrahae, a transparent lightness to the Hostias, a seamless flow of liquid gold in the Benedictus and (Sussmayr or no Sussmayr) real heartbreak in the Lachrymosa that is achieved by intensity of expression not by a morbidly sluggish tempo. The orchestral balance, too, seems essentially and appropriately Mozartian - the trombone writing, for example, has never reminded me so much of Zauberflote.

The team of soloists are all part of the Britten/Aldeburgh rep and are so used to working together that they achieve a rare sense of ensemble in all those many passages where they hand melodic material from one to another. It seems invidious to single any of them out, but mention must be made of Heather Harper's glorious helping of soprano tone at the top of the concerted passages as well as in her solos. The Aldeburgh choir are fully alive to all Britten's demands and, although larger than we're used to in today's authentic performances, sufficiently lithe and responsive to cope incisively with the conductor's tempi.

If there's a criticism to be made of this cracking live performance caught on the wing, it is with the recorded sound - not really up to the BBC's standards in the early 70's. The dynamic range is a little constricted and the bigger ensembles end up feeling a bit congested and lacking in clarity.

The fill-up is a fascinating interview with Britten at the time that he was working on Owen Wingrave and is interesting for his views on how to achieve the best from opera on TV.

Another highly recommendable disc from the BBC's archives, if not necessarily a first choice for the Requiem because of the constricted sound.