Karajan recorded all these works more than once in the studio, all in better sound, yet these live recordings made between 1957 and 1960 at Salzburg have their own validity in the vast Karajan discography because they catch performances undoctored in any way by the conductor or others, and recorded, obviously, at a single stretch. That is most arresting in the case of the Missa solemnis, which receives a blinding interpretation that places it above Karajan’s other versions, indeed in the highest category of recordings of the work overall. Karajan builds the performance from a solemn beginning through a highly charged Gloria to a supremely elevated Sanctus and Benedictus to a vital Agnus Dei, conceiving the work in a single sweep of inspiration. My only reservation concerns the slow speed he always adopted for the “Et vitam venturi” fugue.
His soloists, choir and orchestra respond on equally inspired form to their conductor. And what a team of soloists he had assembled for this 1959 reading: Price is on soaring, searing form, Ludwig generous of voice, beseeching of manner, Gedda eloquent and assured, Zaccaria grave and authoritative. They also work well as an ensemble. The recording is unfortunately restricted even for its day, but who cares when the performance is so inspiriting? Its success is something of a surprise given the fact that it was hastily transferred, owing to inclement weather, from the then-open Felsenreitschule to the old Festspielhaus which Karajan disliked. Ironically, tracks 5 to 8 offer rehearsal takes recorded by chance the previous day in the Felsenreitschule in rather better sound. The atmosphere of the rehearsal is relaxed, the Maestro working, as it were, with friends.
The Brahms and Verdi were recorded in the Felsenreitschule. The 1957 Brahms – the imperious Fischer-Dieskau aside – is poor, Karajan on lethargic form, the choir out of sorts and ill-recorded, della Casa apparently uncomfortable with Karajan’s slow tempo for her solo. So let’s leave that aside and turn to the 1958 Verdi. In spite of Karajan’s many better-recorded versions, I would recommend listening to this one because once more you will be rewarded with a more immediate experience than with those recorded in the studio (the 1967 film done at La Scala apart), one to rival the 1949 account at Salzburg under Karajan (nla). Everything here seems that much more vivid, more spontaneously felt than in the studio. It is true there are a few noises off, including one incident that sounds like a member of the audience falling off their perch, and some questionable intonation among the soloists, but these are worth tolerating for Karajan’s visionary reading, one also strong on orchestral detail. As in the Beethoven a year later, his Vienna forces are on tremendous form, alive to the nuances Karajan wants us to hear and to his overview of the work’s structure.
Heading the solo team is Rysanek, her only recording of this piece. After a tentative start she soon finds her most responsive form, with the arching phrases of “Salva me” finely taken, a beautifully floated entry at “Huic ergo” and an even more ethereal one at “Sed” in the “Domine Jesu Christe” movement. She may lack some of the dramatic bite needed for the “Libera me” but compensates with warmth and sensitivity in the reflective moments. Ludwig is as ever strength personified in the mezzo solos. Zampieri – Vienna’s tame Italian tenor at the time and a favourite with the conductor – sings with vibrant tone and great feeling, although his dynamic range is limited. Siepi is his firm sympathetic self on the bass line.
The Verdi is complemented by the 1960 Bruckner recorded in the new Festspielhaus, a performance of breadth and conviction, adorned by the singing of Price and the youthful Wunderlich. The sound of the Verdi is reasonable, of the Bruckner very good, albeit still mono. The notes for all the sets offer contemporary reviews; significantly those for the Brahms are not as enthusiastic as those for the other works. Gottfried Kraus, as always in these archive sets from Austria, places everything in context.'