It hardly seems credible that with all the commentary that has been written about Beethoven and Toscanini's view of him, this reading of the Missa solemnis should have remained unissued for so long. And yet here it is, sounding not at all bad for its years and upstaging even a celebrated 1940 NBC broadcast performance that has circulated on various labels and that Naxos is planning to release (as the crown of Toscanini's 1939 Beethoven symphony cycle) during the course of next year.
Differences between the two performances are subtle but telling. For example, at the beginning of the Agnus Dei, Toscanini holds the tension marginally more successfully for Nicola Moscona than he did for Alexander Kipnis a year later. The principal virtues of this BBC reading include a superbly balanced solo quartet (better matched than the 1940 line-up), fervent singing from the BBC Choral Society and the symphonic slant of Toscanini's conducting. Although the leading impression is of unspeakable power held in check, some of the most impressive moments are also the quietest. Two passages from the Gloria are especially telling: the lead-in to the 'Qui tollis peccata' episode (4'43'') and that thrilling moment (at around 9'48'') where Beethoven reduces his forces to a whisper before catapulting us back with what sounds like a quick blast of Fidelio and a massive choral fugue. The Credo - always a triumph in Toscanini's hands - has rarely sounded more outrageously modern. Effective tempo relations are crucial (Beethoven's speed shifts are alarmingly frequent) and while some episodes are so fast as to nearly defeat the chorus, others are expertly controlled - and none more so than the meditative retreat before the chorus's sudden shout 'Et resurrexit tertia die ... '(at 9'37''). The Sanctus benefits immeasurably from Paul Beard's serene violin solo, and the martial-sounding terrors that invade the Agnus Dei - a warring community of trumpets and drums - spell unrest without causing disruption.
I'd describe this as a triumph of a performance, significantly broader than the NBC recording of 1953 (though the two Credos last an identical 17'58''), and, as I've already suggested, better balanced than the 1940 broadcast. There, the chorus is rather less good, phrasing is marginally less pliant and the brass and timpani tend to hog the limelight. A fourth (unofficial) version - set down live in New York in 1935 with a solo team that includes Martinelli, Rethberg and Pinza - is grander still, but very poorly recorded.
The BBC's transfer eschews excessive de-hissing for a quiet sea of surface noise that soon ceases to matter, and although the overall sound profile emerges as rather murky (certainly in comparison with the relatively clear post-war RCA recording), the performance is so consistently gripping, that you're soon drawn in. Toscanini's audible singing (you hear it throughout the set) is further proof of his ecstatic involvement.
To encounter the Missa solemnis at such a high level of interpretative excellence is a unique privilege, and my only complaint is that by failing to fit the whole work on to a single disc (it could easily have been done) BBC Legends forces an unfortunate break in our concentration. Still, there are some compensating fill-ups, all of which are worth hearing. The Seventh Symphony's principal attraction is a warmly voiced Allegretto second movement, but, viewed as a whole, the performance - although generally excellent - falls short of the fastidious tailoring that distinguishes Toscanini's fabulous 1936 New York Philharmonic Symphony recording (here the finale sounds a mite relentless). Then again, Mozart's Haffner is not dissimilar to its RCA New York predecessor (there's a parallel slowing-down after the introduction) though the Minuet's Trio is especially lovely in this BBC recording. Cherubini's cumulatively powerful (and decidedly 'pre-Leonore') Anacreon Overture is given a peach of a performance and the sound is surprisingly good.
What more can one say? Seeing this set on paper was almost excitement enough, but its realization is a precious promise fulfilled. Might one hope that there is more 'London Toscanini' in the vaults? I seem to recall the existence of live BBC Symphony sets of Sibelius's En saga, Strauss's Don Quixote (with Feuermann), Mozart's Jupiter and Beethoven's Fifth. And while Testament prepares Toscanini's post-war Philharmonia Brahms symphony cycle for release (in far better sound than the pirates have ever achieved), let's hope the BBC will see fit to explore the maestro's pre-war London legacy. Few historical ventures will prove more worthwhile.'