Cherubini was born (in Florence) in 1760, four years after Mozart, and lived until 1842 when Beethoven had been in his grave 15 years; for the last 20 years of his life he was Director of the Paris Conservatoire, a stern but much respected teacher, whose pupils included Auber and Halevy. Beethoven once told him that ''of all my contemporaries, it is you that I shall always esteem the highest'', and Schumann described him as ''the best harmonist of our time''. He composed some 30 operas and a large quantity of church music, including two requiem Masses (the second of them for his own funeral) and seven other Masses two of them for coronations. The second of these, in A, was written for the coronation of Charles X as King of France, an event which took place in the cathedral of Rheims on April 29th, 1825 with exceptional pomp and circumstance: the king was anointed with oil from the ampulla which survived the Revolution; Napoleon's former marshals offered him Charlemagne's sword; and Talleyrand put on his feet the white slippers embroidered with gold fleurs de lis.
Cherubini's Mass for the occasion is scored for a three-part chorus of sopranos, tenors and basses (a symbolical reference to the Holy Trinity) and a largish orchestra, including a piccolo, four horns, trombones and, originally, ophicleide. In addition to the five customary movements, a solemn Kyrie, a dramatic and colourful Gloria and Credo (both set in several contrasting sections), a jubilant Sanctus and a grave Agnus Dei, there are two more flanking the Sanctus: an Offertorium and O salutaris hostia, both predominantly lyrical in style and both permitting the use of three solo voices instead of the chorus, though here they are sung chorally. The music is, to my ears, impressive rather than moving—but perhaps that is what a coronation Mass should be. The manner is, on the whole, rather austere and old-fashioned, though there are some effective touches in the orchestral and the vocal writing; and old Cherubini throws discretion to the winds in the last bars of the Gloria, which take on an almost Rossinian jauntiness. The performance under Riccardo Muti, with the Philharmonia's trumpets blazing out splendidly in the Gloria, Credo and Sanctus, is magnificent, and beautifully reproduced in HMV's sumptuous recording.
As a bonus we are also given the short Marche religieuse, which Cherubini wrote for Charles X at communion during the ceremonial. It sounds a bit like the March of the Priests in Mozart's Die Zauberflote as it might have if Schubert had re-written it. Berlioz was a great admirer, and he shall have the last word. ''The Marche religieuse represents mystic expression in all its purity, in all its contemplation and Catholic ecstasy . . . No earthly sound disturbs its transcendental calm, which brings tears to the eyes of the listener, but such sweet tears that one is borne away beyond the simple artistic idea, any memory of the present-day world, and left almost unaware of one's own emotion . . . .'''