The voices of the Warsaw Boys’ Choir and the Kraków Philharmonic Choir draw the listener immediately into this recording of the St Luke Passion, with its opening shout, still terrifying 54 years after its premiere, of ‘Crux!’. This is a work that has remained in the public’s imagination more than any other by Penderecki with the possible exception of Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima.

I do feel occasionally that some dramatic points have not been made quite enough of: the aria ‘Deus meus’, for example, sounds a little rushed, somewhat lacking in weight, though the sound is superb. On the other hand, the work is wonderfully threaded together by the Evangelist, Sawomir Holland, whose delivery is positively saturated by the weight of the events he is recounting. The soprano Sarah Wegener is also remarkable, sounding by turns hysterical and vulnerable, and she, like the other soloists, is accompanied by some truly sensitive orchestral playing. One of the great challenges of this work, in fact, is finding a balance between its many moments of chamber music-like intimacy and its gestural monumentality, and in this the orchestra is fundamental. This is demonstrated, for example, in ‘Ierusalem, Ierusalem’ which precedes the unaccompanied and very Stravinskian ‘Ut quid, Domine’ and the gripping Betrayal of Peter; in this sequence every ounce of drama has certainly been found.

The Latin pronunciation is all over the place so far as the soloists are concerned, but I am not sure that this is much of a problem; with an international cast, one is bound to have different ways of pronouncing the language. Far more important is the dramatic weight brought to the narrative; a particularly powerful demonstration of this is the scene of Christ before Pilate that ends Part 1, which is truly amazing in its physical power. Penderecki’s use of the Improperia at this point (the Passacaglia) has always seemed to me singularly inspired, and Nagano does not disappoint in making of this something genuinely shocking.

This is a work, then, that has not lost its power to convey the physicality of the Crucifixion, and to make it thereby a human drama as well as a narrative of the central events of the Christian faith. That it does so by harnessing the techniques of both the then radical avant-garde and the millennial musical traditions of the Roman Catholic Church is a tribute to the flexibility and imagination of the composer (something which, when for him the compass points moved somewhat later in his career, left many people perplexed), but the fact that this monumental work can still summon such a hugely moving recording is testament to rather more: this is a great work, deserving of great performances. Will it be only me whose face is bathed in tears as that final chord sounds? I