Der Tag des Gerichts (''The Day of Judgement'') is one of Telemann's greatest achievements and belongs to that almost miraculous decade between 1755 and 1765 when the composer underwent a veritable creative rejuvenation. The work was first performed in Hamburg in 1762 when Telemann was 81 years old. From start to finish this beautiful score has all the freshness of invention and vitality that we might have expected from a man half his age. The text is by Wilhelm Alers who described it as a ''Poem for Singing in Four Contemplations''. It must have appealed to the octogenarian composer who brings it to life with a wealth of instrumental colour, affective word-painting and striking contrasts.
Since 1967, the two-hundredth anniversary of Telemann's death, a fine recording of the work by Nikolaus Harnoncourt and the Vienna Concentus Musicus has held the stage almost unrivalled (Teldec). Now Hermann Max, the Rheinische Kantorei and Das Kleine Konzert have recorded a new version for Capriccio which proves a strong contender to the crown. Strong, yet not strong enough to oust Harnoncourt from the throne. Max adopts brisker tempos for the most part but, while this is sometimes all to the good, the overall result has been to strip the work of much of its nobility. Right from the start, Harnoncourt conveys a sense of occasion, a feeling that we are embarking on a drama of some moment. Max, though always stylish, underplays the dramatic side of the score at times pushing the music along uncomfortably fast. His solo vocalists make up a strong team; Ann Monoyios was an inspired piece of casting and David Cordier gives a much more accomplished account of the music than his female counterpart in the Harnoncourt version. But, accomplished as they are, Wilfried Jochens and Stephen Schreckenberger are no match for Kurt Equiluz and Max van Egmond. Choir and orchestra are good, too, yet there is little in this performance which matches Harnoncourt's affectionate handling of Telemann's music. One has only to listen to sections such as the chorus ''Es rauscht'' (track 11), or the bass aria ''Da kreuzen verzehrende Blitze'' (track 13) to see how superficial Max's view of the work is compared with Harnoncourt's much more effectively paced and awe-inspiring concept.
Were it not for Harnoncourt's recording this new one could be recommended with only minor reservations; and, indeed it does offer the listener a musicianly account of Telemnann's score. But who would settle for this tame realization of the accompagnato ''Ich sehe, Gott, den Engel deiner Rache!'' when Harnoncourt's resonant and chilling account is available? There is, however, one reason why I definitely shall want to hear the newcomer many times over and that is for the singing of Ann Monoyios, the youthful freshness of whose voice is perfectly suited to music and context. The aria ''Ich bin erwacht nach Gottes Bilde'' (track 31) is one of Telemann's happiest melodic inspirations and Monoyios, as a blessed spirit, captures its innocence and simplicity with alluring charm. Yet here, too I feel that Max misjudges the tempo, pushing it along much too fast, hardly allowing the piece to breathe. Harnoncourt gives it more space and is, furthermore, very well served by a solo treble from the Vienna Boys' Choir.
So, there you have it. Both versions are well worth hearing but Harnoncourt senses greater dimensions to the piece than Max. The Capriccio recording, on a single disc, is cheaper than the Teldec issue. But Teldec further includes Telemann's masterly dramatic cantata, Ino, belonging to the same period, and since it is a mid-price issue the difference between the two releases is small.'