Subscribers to the whole edition will not need guidance over this, beyond, perhaps, an assurance that it is not in some way unworthy of the series; and that they certainly can have. Assurance can also be given to those who propose investing in certain volumes and who wonder whether this is one to choose. Supposing there are readers who know Beethoven essentially through the orchestral and instrumental music but whose eyes may have strayed to these pages of the magazine on account of their interest in the series, then, rather emphatically, yes: now is the time to meet the Masses, a concentrated glory there, and a more intermittent glory in the cantatas and oratorio. But there is a third category of reader, probably in the majority, for whom choice is more problematic. These are people who already have two or three of the works in their collection and are doubtful about whether there may be any gain in the duplications (some particular excellence of performance perhaps) or whether they might do better to buy piecemeal as heretofore.
At the centre of this volume is the great Missa solemnis. The chosen recording is one that on its original release did not everywhere meet with the enthusiasm of its review in Gramophone. Made live in Salzburg in 1991, it has the most illustrious quartet of soloists – Cheryl Studer, Jessye Norman, Placido Domingo and Kurt Moll. The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and a combination of three choirs are conducted by James Levine. Playing it again now, I find it still a marvellous experience, not least on account of the great beauty of the voices but also because of the excellence of the choral and orchestral work. This is a large-scale performance of music which in recent years we have heard scaled-down in respect of sheer numbers involved; it still responds and seems neither inflated nor put out of balance. The score’s range of feeling and expression is immense, and all is encompassed, including the paradoxical for as listeners we must have confidence in the control of these forces (stretched, as they are, to the limit) and yet, in places, there must also be a sense of danger: it is part of the exhilaration, and Beethoven is not fully himself without it.
The C major Mass makes less superhuman demands, but under John Eliot Gardiner receives no less attention. His Monteverdi Choir are excellent as ever and give an especially vivid, intense account of Meeresstille. These are both fairly recent recordings; the oldest in the set is the Christus am Oelberge (“Christ on the Mount of Olives”) from 1970. It survives well, and has a particular interest in the singing of Elizabeth Harwood and James King. Harwood copes joyfully with the Seraph’s formidably high range, and King, never a favourite of mine on record or ‘in the flesh’, shows himself an admirable singer here. In the original Gramophone review, Alec Robertson found him “at times too operatic”, but I wonder what that means. Christ here, after all, is seen dramatically and at His most human, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Is the agony in the garden to be rendered as less human, less intense, than Florestan’s in his dungeon (or is ‘operatic’ in some way an inherently pejorative term)?
Still, it is another question that probably exercises the third category of potential buyer. The set contains three new recordings, which also happen to be of works, little-known but highly attractive, that have had recent recordings which have been well received. The two cantatas, one on the death of Joseph II, the other on Leopold’s II’s accession, came out in fine performances under Matthew Best (Hyperion, 4/97), and the celebration of Vienna’s Congress in 1814, Der glorreiche Augenblick, had what was announced as its first recording on Koch under Robert Bass. The new version of that last work is preferable, partly on account of the brilliance of its ‘Vienna’, Luba Orgonasova. In the cantatas, too, the soloists are rather better here, though the chorus need more presence. Christian Thielemann directs thoughtful performances, favouring rather slower speeds, and thoroughly confirming the impression which so endeared both works in the earlier release. So: Vol. 19 has to go on the list.'