Measured and reassuring, this is a performance of the Missa solemnis to put alongside Davis's earlier recording (Philips), closer in sympathy and spirit to Klemperer than (in their different ways) to Toscanini, Bernstein or Gardiner. Its identity among the numerous versions of the masterpiece is located in the first ''Et vitam venturi'' fugue of the Credo, where the minim beats are like the tick of a clock in the timeless world of eternity. That is: it is a performance with a vision, but it sees order and control where others have found a feverish excitement, and it resolutely sets its face against rush. Comparison with the 1977 recording shows that the conviction which animated that performance has deepened, resulting in slower speeds and an increased sense of defined purpose in both the writing and its translation into sound.
For my own taste, the slowness is excessive. In overall timings of each of the numbers in the six recordings that came to hand (the two Davises, Solti, Levine, Gardiner, Kvam) these are the slowest in every instance but one (Levine in the Sanctus and Benedictus). In the Kyrie there is no trouble; at the start of the Gloria there is a gain in clarity. But some way into the ''Qui tollis'' section, the undeniable beauty is felt to be bought at too great a price, and the score-marking, after all, is only larghetto. The ''Quoniam'' performed is maestoso, to be sure, but hardly allegro maestoso. From then onwards the increased speeds are all proportionate, but the final presto remains a very controlled movement: no sense of the divine madness. Then with the natural breadth of the Credo stretched out into something like a slow march, the ''Qui propter nos homines'' (marked Allegro ma non troppo) becomes a near-adagio, and the inward protest mounts. Much beauty in the Sanctus and Benedictus almost cancels objections to the moderated pace and manner of rejoicing in the first ''Osanna'' and of the lumbering effect of the second. But the Agnus Dei, settling into a dreamy-slow ''Dona nobis pacem'', fails to realize the frightening tension that should be created by the B flat modulation and the portent of war.
The slow speeds, especially in the Agnus Dei, add to the already fearsome challenges confronting the soloists. Rootering, sonorous and skilful as he is, manages a less beautiful and even line in the opening solo than did Robert Lloyd for Davis in 1977. Orgonasova matches Tomowa-Sintov well, the contralto Jadwiga Rappe is better focused than was Patricia Payne, and the tenor Uwe Heilmann more mellifluous than Robert Tear. Even so, the earlier quartet was better in its blend as a quartet. The choir in both recordings sings extremely well, but it has less immediacy, being further recessed than in the other recording. Add to this the dubious value of the Choral Fantasy against the Mass in C, which is the coupling in the Davis reissue; the fact too that the performance of the Fantasy, good as it is, shows up in a slightly dulled light when compared with the Kissin/Abbado recording. No: I fear that it is only a very devoted advocate of order and opponent of the Dionysiac who will be attracted to this Missa solemnis in view of the wealth of choice currently available.'