Bavarian-born Jean-Paul-Gilles Martini (1741-1816) settled in Paris and was promised a senior court post in 1788, just in time for this to go pear-shaped in the Revolution. He escaped to Lyon during the Reign of Terror, and after his return to Paris became professor of composition at the newly established Conservatoire and provided music for Napoleonic state occasions. Upon the restoration of the monarchy, Louis XVIII confirmed Martini’s position as surintendant de la musique du roi (delayed by 26 years), and his Requiem setting (composed 1811) was performed at Saint Denis during the reburial of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette on January 21, 1815 – the 22nd anniversary of their execution.

Recorded in the chapel at Versailles, Le Concert Spirituel’s large contingent of winds (pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets and trumpets, four bassoons, four horns, four trombones including buccin, and serpent), harp, cymbals, tam-tam and timpani are optimised by Hervé Niquet’s fervent conducting. The launch of the Introit has supernatural timbres. Martini throws the kitchen sink into ‘Dies irae’, moving from jagged unison strings and bold choral exclamations into violent tremors and piercing trumpet fanfares. The full force of the choir causes shrillness from sopranos occasionally but the communication of extrovert imagery is stupendous, and interleaving reflective passages provide shaded respite.

Andreas Wolf’s stentorian ‘Liber scriptus’ is accompanied by a rich orchestration featuring solo horn (too receded here). A terrifying ‘Rex tremendae’ gives way to an imploring duet setting of ‘Ingemisco’ sung with steely muscularity by Adriana Gonzalez and Julien Behr. The over-the-top ‘Lacrymosa’ and tense Offertory are not for the faint-hearted. However, the Sanctus is more intimate, with a solo-soprano Benedictus that seems closer to ancien régime Grétry than to Cherubini. ‘Noli meminisse’ elicits gentle choral singing and sonorous sweetness from lower strings. The furious F minor ‘Amen’, with crashing tam-tam and furiously blaring brass, hardly grants us peace. Niquet’s thrilling account is more imposing than a 2017 Bavarian live recording that was undermined by an amateur choir under strain. An uncredited bonus Marseillaise, led by Behr’s soaring tenor, has irresistible swagger.