Soon after welcoming the Pentatone release of Bruckner’s E minor Mass conducted by Gijs Leenaars (A/20), here are two more for collectors to choose from. The version by the King’s College Choir was the final recording made by their music director of 37 years, Stephen Cleobury, before his death last November. In an appreciation in the booklet note, Iain Fenlon, Cleobury’s longtime colleague at King’s College, notes that among the conductor’s concerns during his last days were listening to Wagner’s Ring cycle and completing the final edit of this recording. A feature that sets Cleobury’s version apart from most other recordings is the use of boys’ voices for the soprano and alto parts, heard immediately in the haunting a cappella opening of the Kyrie, the trebles sounding strikingly pure and radiant. It’s not an inappropriate choice given the liturgical nature of the piece and the composer’s own history as a boy chorister at the Monastery of St Florian, although we know that Bruckner used female voices when he conducted the premiere in Linz in 1869. Another feature of Cleobury’s recording is the fleetness of the interpretation, the performance lasting around 32 minutes compared to 37' for Layton (a former student of Cleobury’s at King’s) and 43' for Jochum. I never felt that the performance was too fast, however, the choice of tempos throughout in keeping with the freshness of the approach and the modest scale of the forces employed.

Cleobury prefaces the performance of the Mass with a stirring account of Ecce sacerdos magnus, where the choir is accompanied by organ and three trombones, with the other five motets following after. These are performed with a similar combination of vitality and dedication, and the recording throughout is first class.

Philippe Herreweghe’s first recording of the Mass in E minor was made in 1989 with the combined vocal forces of Collegium Vocale and La Chappelle Royale. Thirty years on, Herreweghe’s conception of the work is remarkably similar, although tempos are now faster than before, the overall running time shorter by a minute than even Cleobury’s recording. Although I don’t find this problematic in itself, the clarity and objectivity of Herreweghe’s approach results in a somewhat uninvolving experience, especially when compared with the versions by Layton or Rilling, which convey so well the deeper emotions of the piece. Although not indicated as a live recording, the ring of a mobile phone provides a startling intrusion at 3'43" in the Sanctus.

Dating from 2012, the performance of the Te Deum is, by contrast, powerful and stirring. As with the Mass, Herreweghe’s tempos are notably swifter than most other conductors, but both singers and orchestra sound thoroughly committed and the performance communicates excitement and a sense of the elemental. Whereas the Mass was recorded in the Philharmonie in Essen, the Te Deum was set down at KKL Luzern and enjoys a slightly warmer and more spacious sound, albeit not always entirely transparent in louder passages. Once again, strong competition comes from Rilling’s performance, but Herreweghe’s account of the Te Deum is very fine indeed.