There are many recordings of Beethoven’s Missa solemnis, and several very good ones–Bernstein, Szell, and Harnoncourt among them. This one has many strong assets, mainly the fine chorus with its ability to project substantial sound while preserving sectional balances and also to deliver quieter, more reflective passages sensitively and warmly. Worthy of special mention are the heroic tenors who only occasionally sound effortful (and this only in Beethoven’s cruelest lines). This impressive choir shows it possesses the confident technical command of the music and sufficient stamina required to make a real performance out of this notoriously difficult, voice-killing work. The quartet of soloists, a crucial component, is thoroughly satisfactory here–however, while each is a very competent singer, if you’re not a fan of “big vibrato” you may find soprano Lori Phillips’ extremes in this department (as well as some of her other dramatic effects) to be an irritant.
The Nashville Symphony has long ago proven itself a first-class outfit and it responds perfectly to conductor Kenneth Schermerhorn’s robust, extroverted interpretation. An important characteristic of the recording is that the chorus is very present–a welcome feature as far as it goes. Unlike many choral/orchestral productions, the choir and soloists here are not veiled behind a wall of instrumental sound. However, the orchestra’s positioning in the mix occasionally leaves it at a disadvantage. While we can “feel” the orchestra’s sonic impact, in choral sections it’s more of a “presence” than a well-defined force of color and texture. This lessens the effect of passages where particular instruments need to be heard–and they’re not.
One example is in the fugal section toward the end of the Gloria where winds, strings, and (later) horns are supposed to accentuate eighth-note runs with sf accents. Here, instead of the instrumental inflections, we only hear the chorus adding these (although the score doesn’t indicate such). In many other places, brass coloration is missing (particularly horns), so the chorus ends up carrying the load and wiping out some of the score’s important elements. Although his recording overall is more recessed, Harnoncourt is a master at fully using the orchestra and bringing out instruments where they are supposed to enhance and color the singing or to simply provide greater impact. He’s also more adept in other interpretive choices, as in the closing minutes of the Credo where Schermerhorn chooses to have the chorus imitate the orchestra’s sharply pointed staccatos, which has an oddly stuttering effect rather than driving the music forward–and also causes several moments of ensemble disunity. Alternatively, Harnoncourt unleashes the chorus in a furious, exciting flurry, using the carefully written rests, ties across barlines, and occasional, well-articulated sforzandos to propel the music in syncrhonized consort with the orchestra’s supporting armaments.
Nevertheless, in a work of this size and containing such eminently unwieldy components, these are not serious faults–especially when the singing and playing are so well done and the direction and pacing are so coherent and tautly managed. This isn’t the best Missa solemnis, but it’s a viable contender that with only a couple of exceptions sustains its energy from the Kyrie to the very beautiful close of the Agnus Dei. Complete on a single 77-minute disc, at Naxos’ budget price, the incentive to make this your first choice becomes quite attractive indeed.
