Now, over 130 years later, John Frandsen (b1956) has achieved a modern milestone with his own monumental setting, composed in 2010, which lasts over an hour and a half. This ‘meditative invocation of eternal rest’ is dedicated to the memory of the victims of the massacre on the island of Utøya in Norway on July 22, 2011, and this premiere recording was made shortly before and immediately after the first performance, which took place on April 5, 2013.

Frandsen has marshalled his large choral and orchestral forces with a resolute mastery, clearly relishing the vivid imagery and word-painting opportunities. The Latin text has been expanded by the interpolation of six strophic hymns by the Danish writer Simon Grotrian (b1961), their intimate commentaries providing a striking contrast of simplicity. They are sung here by the Faroese rock singer Teitur Lassen, whose untrained, lightweight delivery is reminiscent of Sting’s wheezy Dowland croonings. His occasionally tentative search for notes emphasises the sense of fragility in the vocal line. Fortunately he receives first-rate support from the organist Per Salo, whose accompaniments are written in a much more sophisticated style.

A cosmopolitan range of stylistic echoes and influences can be discerned. Thus there are touches of Britten in the ‘Judex ergo’ (tolling bells), with its overwhelming cries of ‘salva me’, Stravinsky’s spikiest wind voicing in the ‘Quarens me’, and Tippett’s gestural string-writing in the ‘Lacrymosa’. The strings are also used to magical effect in the bass soloist’s ‘Qui Mariam absolvisti’ with the added coolness of the marimba and harp. This movement and the filigree ‘Communio’ represent two of the most deeply felt moments in the work. Of the four soloists, the mezzo-soprano Andrea Pellegrini and bass Halvor Melien share the laurels. The choruses are on spectacular form throughout, especially in the ‘Dies irae’ sections, which Frandsen treats as a demonic whirligig, complete with screams and ululations, all conjuring up a scene of violence and despair. The orchestra displays a wealth of fine soloists, including an idiosyncratic obbligato for the orchestral tuba in the ‘Tuba mirum’. This eloquent statement deserves the widest circulation.