When a great composer dies leaving a final work unfinished, 
          sometimes the work is completed by his students or friends and enters 
          the repertoire with barely a ripple of comment. Bartók’s Viola 
          Concerto, Borodin’s Prince Igor, Tchaikovsky’s Third Piano Concerto 
          and Prokofiev’s cello sonata are examples. Sometimes the work remains 
          uncompleted and the subject of years of discussion, even controversy, 
          before, eventually, someone is able to produce a satisfactory completion. 
          Bach’s Kunst der Fuge, Mahler’s Tenth Symphony, Berg’s Lulu, 
          and Elgar’s Third Symphony come to mind. In some cases the work is published 
          complete and only many years later are questions raised. In this latter 
          category lie Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann and the Mozart 
          Requiem. 
        
 
        
At the time of his death, Mozart had written out the 
          vocal parts and accompanying bass part of 10 of the work’s 14 sections 
          and the first 8 bars of the Lacrymosa. The familiar version of 
          this magnificent work was produced for Constanze Mozart by three of 
          Mozart’s students—Freystätdler, Eybler, and Süssmayer—and 
          delivered in satisfaction of the commission with a forged signature 
          on the colluded manuscript. Besides filling out the orchestration of 
          the entire work, Süssmayer is credited with composing anew the 
          Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Osanna and 
          Lux Æterna. It was actually 1823 before serious questions 
          were raised as to just how much Mozart may have had had to do with it. 
        
 
        
The fundamental problem is that this is exceptional 
          music and Süssmayer was an uninspired and unskilled composer, so 
          how much of his contribution to this work is based on Mozart’s lost 
          sketches or verbal instructions? Levin argues that quite a bit of it 
          is authentic Mozart, clumsily worked out by Süssmayer. Levin carefully 
          works around the bits of what he sees as authentic Mozart and patches 
          up Süssmayer’s inept extensions. The result is certainly the finest 
          version of the work I’ve ever heard, and since it was premiered in a 
          1991 recording by Helmuth Rilling it has also been recorded by Martin 
          Pearlman and now Bernard Labadie. 
        
 
        
Throughout, the orchestral accompaniment is lighter 
          and more supple, which allows a smaller chorus to be more forward. The 
          additional fugues composed by Levin are beautifully done, perhaps with 
          just the merest echo of the Mozart c-minor mass and the Bach b-minor 
          mass. The "repairs" of Süssmayer’s work are seamless 
          and have the effect of making the work feel more consistent and more 
          fluent. I have sung the Süssmayer version and expected to feel 
          the changes in my throat, but everything came off perfectly comfortably, 
          and my wonderful memories of working on this music are intact. The occasionally 
          recorded Maunder revision leaves out several major sections of the music, 
          but Levin includes all the familiar music and also composes an Amen 
          fugue (based on Mozart’s sketch) after the Lacrymosa so you get 
          your full money’s worth here. Levin’s revised Hosanna fugue is 
          in a single key and shortened in the reprise after the Benedictus 
          (in the customary style of 18th century church music), 
          and will be the other change noticeable to most listeners. 
        
 
        
When I was in Montreal in 1997 I was privileged to 
          attend a marvellous performance of Rossini’s opera La Cenerentola 
          and my recollection is that many of these fine Canadian musical artists 
          were part of that performance, so I am not surprised at the excellence 
          of their work on this recording. Nor am I surprised that their approach 
          is operatic and dramatic. La Chapelle de Québec is a fully professional 
          choir and their precision and dramatic declamation in the denser choral 
          parts is truly thrilling. This is advertised as a live recording, but 
          there is no trace of audience sound except some discreet applause after 
          the end. Of the many performances of this work I’ve heard and cherished, 
          beginning with the Scherchen 1953 monophonic Ducretet-Thomson and including 
          the Harnoncourt, Hogwood, and Solti Vienna video versions, this recording 
          will now be my first choice. 
        
 
        
However, with a work recorded as frequently as this, 
          a person can pick and choose until just the perfect version is discovered. 
          Some will prefer every note of the Süssmayer version out of familiarity, 
          and some will prefer a more solemn, weighty, reverent, even sentimental, 
          approach. 
        
 
        
Paul Shoemaker