Customer Reviews

Berlioz - Requiem · 5 pièces sacrées / Ainsley · Choeur et Orchestre Symphonique du Montréal · Dutoit

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Allow me to dissent from Amazon's reviewer. When, many years ago, I was in college, the Requiem was a "high-fidelity" item. That is, the more sound you could produce without actually blowing your speakers, the better recording. Dutoit's performance does not go in for gratuitous noise and reminds me that this is the same Berlioz who wrote L'Enfance du Christ.

The power is still there: the Lacrymosa and the Benedictus still roll to thundrous climaxes. But most of the Requiem is lyrical and, although Berlioz is said not to have been a believer, approaches being liturgical. The work itself has some dull spots (so does Les Troyens) but not many.

Throughout this performance everything is clear--my Latin is not good enough to comment on the diction, but the music is articulated with loving care. Counterpoint, harmony, and inner voicing are all audible and balanced.

The five sacred pieces, rarely heard, are a worthwile bonus. The last, the Resurrexit from an earlier mass, is particularly interesting because Berlioz used part of it in the Requiem, improving it greatly. Some of the rest of it sounds like failed Rossini, and Berlioz was clearly correct in deciding not to go farther in that direction.

Excellent, but different from what you have heard before.

OK, I know you can't say things like this, but I'm going to say it anyway: this is the greatest Requiem ever written. If I could own only one requiem I would gladly chuck out Mozart, Fauré, Britten and Brahms, and Verdi's ridiculously overestimated version on top, and hang on to this one. You may think of Berlioz as the composer of bizarre, unbalanced and bombastic works ("So you are the man who writes music for 500 performers", said Fürst Metternich on meeting the composer; "Oh no, your excellency," replied Berlioz, "sometimes I write for only 450"). This work cannot but change that view. Though very large forces are called for, these are used to diversify rather than amplify sound. The full contingent of brass and percussion is only used twice in the 90 minute span of the piece. This is intensely sombre and serious music. Berlioz had a strange affinity with death, and knows to communicate it (there is a harrowing scene in his memoirs where he describes in detail the exhumation of the body of his dear Harriet many years after her death - that same sense of the futility of life, and the sheer horror and loneliness of death, pervades much of this piece). The music is dictated by psychological insight, not melodic inspiration. The Kyrie for instance is hardly music at all, only a quiet, desperate muttering. Nor does the Dies Irae open with a cheaply effective 'coupe de theatre' à la Verdi, but with a quiet, sad melody on cello's and double basses, and a pianissimo unison line of soprano's and flute wandering forlornly through a vast empty space. From this a march gradually emerges, which then slowly builds up to the tremendous outburst of the Tuba Mirum.
The orchestration is an absolute work of genius and often way ahead of its time. In one place, the orchestral accompaniment is reduced to mere alternating chords of three flutes, high up, and eight trombones in their lowest register, creating a sense of musical vertigo, if such a thing exists; in another, the choir sings the same two notes throughout while a marvellous set of orchestral variations is developed simultaneously. The Lacrymosa is simply mind-boggling, undoubtedly one of the most overwhelming pieces of choral music ever written. The Agnus Dei picks up some threads heard earlier in the work and then ends with a series of serenely comforting 'Amen's', strings playing luminous slow arppeggio's while six timpani emulate something like a tired, irregular heartbeat.

Though some decent recordings of this work are available, it has not been as lucky on disc as it deserves, and none of the existing recordings that I'm familiar with does it full justice. Previn and Davis are serviceable and at times impressive; Ozawa is bland and forgettable, nor did the Levine reading stick in my memory long; I'm still curious about the much lauded Shaw, though my experiences with his Mahler 8 also engender some doubts; this Montréal recording, finally, is easily the most beautiful of those I know. Dutoit takes a relaxed and moderate view of the work, very much concerned with bringing out its many beauties. In doing so he renders it less confronting than it should be, but it remains a very moving experience indeed. The two Big Moments are powerful, though they don't convey the feeling of so many drums rolling at full force as the score shows there are (Previn succeeds best in this passage). The singing and playing are beyond criticism throughout, and the recorded sound, if at times slightly blurry and a bit underpowered, is pleasantly mellow and generally excellent. Still, dear John Eliot Gardiner, could you be persuaded to please, please, round up all period instrument players in Europe and expand your Monteverdi choir a bit for the occasion to give us the definitive account of this sublime work?

Before I rave about this well-played and well-recorded Requiem, I can see why many people would not cling to this recording. This is because Charles Dutoit takes an approach to this piece like no conductor before him. Whether you agree with the interpretations or not, new ways of performing a piece should always be applauded. Dutoit lets this piece shine with the highlight not being the actual forces that make up this huge work, but by the quality of the playing. Each meoldic line and harmonic note is brought out to give the listener something new to listen for. When I first heard it, I noticed many colors and effects that I never noticed before, especially in the Sanctus (which is probably the best track in this recording). The Montreal Symphony has excellent intonation in relation to the chorus. The balance between the singers and orchestra is terrific, and probably the best out of any Berlioz Requiem recording. Listen for yourself and enjoy what you hear, because I bet you'll be surprised by what you have never noticed before.

Decca stuck by Dutoit for a decade as their house French onductor, but his recodings, though spectacular in sound, never amounted to the real thing emotionally. He is a cool, detached leader even in Berlioz, where that kind of aloofness makes no musical or dramatic sense. Despite the excellent sonics and the skilled performers, this isn't a memorable version of the Requiem.

Dutoit is an esteemed conductor who has given us excellent recordings such as his Ravel series with the Montreal Orchestra. Having recently seen "Tree of Life" I developed an urge to hear the Berlioz Requiem, and of several versions I have, I selected this one as I had not heard it for years. My memory of it is that it was never a favorite but I liked having the "fillers" it came with. Listening to it again, I realized my recollection was indeed correct. I do not like this version very much. There are two basic reasons why this is so. Firstly, Mr. Dutoit, though an estimable conductor, lacks the dramatic vision and thrust which is so part of almost everything that Berlioz wrote. This results in a comparably feeble execution of not only the most stormy and grand moments of this exceptional score, but also of those quiet yet equally dramatic bars that make up the significant majority of the piece. Secondly, his choir, accurately though they sing, does not sound beyond a very good amateur group. There is a solidity and force, particularly to the male voices, which one encounters elsewhere and one just does not find here. Overall there is a failure to execute this score as horizontal lines of music, ignoring all the polyphonic elements used by Berlioz in choral and instrumental lines to make the music eloquent and moving. Indeed, most of Berlioz has to be thought polyphonically as the treasures of his instrumentation, which in his music is such an intrinsic element of expression, are thus revealed most clearly and carry the musical argument forward. On occasion Dutoit has done so (as in his recording of selected pieces from the Berlioz's first attempts to deal with Faust) but in this requiem, an earlier recording I think, he does not, and thus betrays the piece. All told, past disappointment was validated by present rehearing. I so had to cleanse my ears that I pulled out and listened to the tremendous version by Sir Thomas Beecham, issued by the BBC in excellent mono sound, from Royal Albert Hall 1959. Obviously, that is not the version to get if what one wants is a stereo-spectacular (for that matter, the Dutoit also lacks technical punch). But with Beecham: now there we have truly substantial music making by singers, orchestra and conductor! The world was made right again.

I have 4 versions of this piece and this is the one I keep comng back to. Marvelous wide and deep soundstage and performance.