Naxos have done it again. I have little hesitation in preferring this version among modern, large-scale performances. Morandi brings to his interpretation a youthful, Italian energy and generosity of expression, exactly matching those qualities in the work itself. Given a judicious choice of young soloists, all up to their exigent tasks, an excellent chorus (a shattering “Dies irae”, an alert, not too drilled Sanctus, a disciplined “Libera me” fugue) and a well-fashioned recording, this set makes a compelling case for recommendation.
If you doubt that a super-budget account can be so good I beg you to try track 7, the “Rex tremendae”, where you can hear how Morandi builds a movement unerringly to an appropriately tremendous climax. The soloists show how involved they are in the work, form a good ensemble and individually exhibit the intelligence to sing quietly as needed. Then go on to the duet and solos that follow. The young Bulgarian dramatic soprano Elena Filipova (quite a find) and Scalchi combine into a rich-toned duo in “Liber scriptus”, spoilt a little by moments of indeterminate pitch from the soprano (later the two contrast well in the Agnus Dei). Hernandez, with his warm, baritonal, Spanish-style tenor, sings a sensitive “Ingemisco” (a touch of insecurity at the start excepted), succeeded by Colombara’s truly magisterial conjuring of the flames of hell at “Confutatis maledictis”. Filipova’s floated entry at “huic ergo” in the succeeding trio and the sheer intensity of the whole “Lacrymosa” bring the “Dies irae” to a fitting close. The rest of the performance is on an equivalent level of achievement, Morandi always judging speeds to a nicety.
Recorded in a large church in Toulouse the French-based EMI performance isn’t as convincing. You hear it as though you were seated in the back row of the nave: the reverberance is very audible, the choir a long way off. Now Verdi urged giving the work in a church, but I wonder if he would have liked one with an acoustic that too often occludes pertinent detail. Then there’s the recording of the soloists, who sound in a different ambience from the rest and, as I hear it, have added resonance. The Naxos is more naturally and expertly engineered.
Plasson commands his large forces in authoritative fashion, lets loose the prophecy of the day of judgement and last trump with suitable elan and persuades his well-disciplined charges to beseech the Almighty with the best of them. He favours speeds in line with Verdi’s tempo markings, similar to those found on the recent Hickox version, but is yielding enough to allow licence in terms of rubato to his soloists. But so does Morandi and he has the benefit of an inborn affinity with the work as a whole.
Of Plasson’s soloists, the soprano and the bass are the most interesting. We know of Varady’s qualifications as a Verdian, and she sings here with the dedication allied to sensitivity I look for on the top line in this work. Exemplars of her artistry are there aplenty, such as the final arching phrase, “transire ad vitam”, of the “Offertorio”, so gently touched in. She gives her all in the “Libera me”, though the heaviest passages do place her voice under strain. Filipova here is just as involving and finds it easier to ride the orchestra. On the bottom line Scandiuzzi evinces the right scale of tone and phrase, awed at “Mors stupebit”, breathing fire at “Confutatis maledictis” (advantageously taken up to speed) – but, by a small margin, Colombara is the more convincing.
Felicity Palmer certainly has the conviction and largess of phrase for the mezzo role, but the edginess on her tone becomes a liability, not a match for Scalchi’s warmth and security. Keith Olsen has his moments, but an incipient wobble and occasional sense of strain vitiate his best efforts, notably in the “Hostias” where Hernandez is superior. As a quartet the four singers are not as well integrated as their Naxos counterparts.
The Plasson version, which has the “Libera me” only on the second disc, lasting 13 minutes, is selling at the price of a single CD so it has as its main rival in a similar type of performance the single-CD Hickox version on Chandos. It’s swings and roundabouts where the soloists are concerned, but because of a more amenable, more sensibly balanced recording and a slightly superior choir, I would remain faithful to the Hickox. However, if you want a real bargain choose the Naxos where, for even less money, you additionally get a fine performance of the Quattro pezzi sacri.
At mid price there’s the heaven-searching Fricsay, a very special experience. Gardiner, on two CDs at full price, offers both works and a different approach. Living with his version has increased my admiration for its revelatory features and its truthful recording. For a large-scale reading, choose either the later, underrated Muti/La Scala or the new Morandi: the Giulini, for all its merits, is really showing its age as a recording.AB