Whilst Bach’s Missa of 1733 and subsequent additions (the complete Mass setting was probably never performed in its entirety) which comprise the Mass in B minor have featured prominently in the long-running debate on the size of Bach’s vocal and instrumental forces, Robert King firmly wrenches the argument away from matters of balance towards vocal colour and timbre. Andrew Parrott, whose minimalist fundamentalism was given a new airing recently, would say the matter of numerical size has greater implications than just balance. But whatever view you hold, few would deny that the success of a performance depends on rather more than whether you have one or 21 tenors in the chorus. King recognizes the strengths of the minimalist theory but sets his stall by evidence supporting a larger consort. There he leaves it, as have the majority of directors since Joshua Rifkin’s experimental one-to-a-part Nonesuch account in 1981 (3/83 – nla). The important issue for King is about voice types as they constituted Bach’s choir. This means not just boys, but German boys, singing all the soprano and alto lines, solo and vocal.
The Tolz Boys have appeared regularly in many distinguished Bach recordings over the decades but are something of a rarity within the British period performance tradition, whose choirs are usually inhabited by clear, lithe sopranos and well-heeled Oxbridge-style countertenors. The appearance of the Tolzers and their inimitably open and rich ‘chest’ voices is indeed of prime interest in a fascinating new account of this supreme work. Yet for all the setting out of stalls, it is not the validity of historical correctness which ultimately makes this a version to be reckoned with. Boys, by and large (wherever they may hail from), are inherently spared self-conscious fashions and infra dig-isms of period practice. Apart from some over-deliberate gestures in the first Kyrie chorus which makes it seem rather lightweight, King leaves them alone to breathe naturally. The result can be stunningly fresh, as in the way they intuitively warm through phrases in the “Gratias” and the imploring “Crucifixus”.
Yet pitting this 24-strong boys’ choir against 12 seasoned tenors and basses of The King’s Consort Choir means a sacrifice in cohesion at times. Many will miss, especially in movements of great virtuosity like “Cum sanctu spiritu”, the shining technical polish of professional adults reared on regular and similar experiences. There are also moments where the boys sound less than their usually majestic selves; a sense of fragility, messiness and lack of tonal focus (fatigue possibly?) is palpable in the early stages of the “Et in terra pax”, the Sanctus and the “Et incarnatus est”. Through the odd trough, however, come periods of compelling fervour where the musicians are left to sail on an energy of their own collective making; the visceral core of the work is therefore happened upon with a thrilling spontaneity, such as the unstoppable “Et resurrexit” and “Et expecto”. Of the solo and duet movements, Domine Deus is delectably performed, Matthias Ritter and Anthony Rolfe Johnson consumed in a gentle and understanding dialogue, radiantly accompanied by the flutes. Indeed, the instrumental playing is first-class throughout. Ritter’s partner, Matthias Schloderer, is a little too soft-centred in “Et in unum” but fellow alto, Maximilian Fraas’s rendering of the “Agnus Dei” is nothing if not immediate in its brittle honesty; as with Rolfe Johnson’s supremely controlled Benedictus and Michael George’s nobly shaped “Et in spiritum”, speeds tend to be leisurely and highly involving as a result, especially in the “Crucifixus” and the stately closing “Dona nobis” which is gloriously celestial.
In sum, this is a project which despite a slightly bumpy surface – often very much to its credit with chances taken and no fear of bland precision for its own sake – is nevertheless a significant achievement in its unfussy and robust directness, with some moments of real inspiration. Here is a distinctive new reading which complements and enhances a varied catalogue: Bruggen, Christophers, Hickox, Gardiner, Parrott and Richter have all claimed rosettes for their own particular contributions – and now King. Recorded sound is fairly good but definition in the choruses can appear either too recessed or too ‘full-frontal’ against the speaker.'