Though the Mozart Requiem and the name of Rudolf Kempe associated with it will probably be the main selling attractions here, the greater distinction, as performance and recording, lies with the Bruckner Te Deum under Karl Forster. In some fairly obvious ways the recorded sound is dated, and no doubt more recent versions by Best and Barenboim will fit the modern idea more naturally. The 1956 performance (which was recorded on three separate days) may seem congested, though I would not have thought depressingly so. The great point in its favour is that it has presence, with the forces well-balanced and the choir well forward. As a performance, too, it carries a genuine sense of exaltation, betraying nothing of its fragmentary origins. The soloists form a fine, homogeneous quartet, with Josef Traxel rather appealingly individual in timbre and Gottlob Frick providing a sonorous and splendid enrichment of the vocal colours.
The quartet works less well in the Requiem partly because Elisabeth Grummer's tone is not well matched by Marga Hoffgen's, but more because Helmut Krebs's tenor sounds such a sparrow beside Frick's great eagle. Though the choral and orchestral forces are the same as in the Bruckner and were recorded by the same team, balance and clarity are less satisfying here, and in the choir itself there is less cohesion, the tenors being keen but also somewhat raw. In style, Kempe's approach seems now rather surprisingly churchy and monumental, though passion, precision and a steady beat are the more analysable elements in a performance throughout which the listener can feel a total conviction and involvement among all the participants. Simon Gibson's transfers are fine, and, as I say, the Te Deum reflects much credit on all concerned.'