Film of Rostropovich playing the cello usually shows something 
                  resembling a man possessed. How he was able to master his instrument 
                  whilst being at the same time so emotionally involved in the 
                  music is a mystery, but most of his recorded performances as 
                  a cellist demonstrate a remarkable degree of self discipline. 
                  Not so, I think, his recordings as a conductor, where a certain 
                  waywardness sometimes crept in. To hear Rostropovich the conductor 
                  in Rachmaninov’s choral masterpiece is irresistible, but the 
                  results are mixed. 
                  
                  The American choir sounds like a fairly substantial group, and 
                  a very accomplished one, clearly very well prepared by their 
                  Music Director, Norman Scribner. There are one or two minor 
                  lapses of intonation, nothing likely to shock, and a few places 
                  where a big, complex chord takes time to “settle”. To my inexpert 
                  ears they seem to be making more than a fair crack at the language, 
                  but they do not sound like a Russian choir, and the listener’s 
                  reaction to this disc may well depend largely on how important 
                  a factor that is. 
                  
                  The choir is recorded at a fair distance in a resonant but not 
                  overpowering acoustic. A little detail is lost from time to 
                  time because of the echo, but the main problem with the sound 
                  is a lack of impact; it sounds soft grained even with the volume 
                  control turned well up. It’s surprising to see Maureen Forrester’s 
                  name as the alto soloist, but she turns in a fine performance; 
                  her bottom range is powerful and often quite tenor-like. Gene 
                  Tucker is excellent. The booklet is no more than a folded sheet 
                  with track details and movement titles in four languages. 
                  
                  The conductor’s view of the work is, largely, uncontroversial. 
                  One exception is perhaps the best-known movement, the sixth, 
                  a hymn to the Virgin. This is marked Andante moderato 
                  in the score, and in addition the composer indicated in his 
                  autograph score that the music was to be kept moving and sung 
                  with lightness. Rostropovich takes this more slowly than I think 
                  I have ever heard it, and its essential simplicity of utterance 
                  is transformed into something cloying. Even within the slow 
                  basic tempo he holds back lovingly at phrase ends, and then 
                  slows down even more, adding an unauthorised low C in the basses, 
                  in the final bars. In contrast, the following movement, marked 
                  Andante, is taken so quickly that the music seems almost 
                  perfunctory, the wonderful bell sounds – the choir singing in 
                  eleven parts! – go for nothing. Once you’ve heard this passage 
                  under Vladislav Chernushenko, and especially the jaw-dropping 
                  crescendo/decrescendo that closes it, any other version 
                  is bound to be a disappointment. 
                  
                  One is occasionally disappointed by poorly managed balances. 
                  The basses, for example, almost always overpower the altos when 
                  the two voices sing the same line at the octave. And I regret 
                  the conductor’s decision to ignore the composer’s instruction 
                  that the work should end quietly. But in the end, and in this 
                  of all works, one misses that certain something that only a 
                  Russian, Baltic or maybe Scandinavian choir can bring. This 
                  is a delicate point, as I should never want to give the impression 
                  that only British choirs can sing, say, Elgar. But although 
                  the bottom Cs and B flats in the bass line are definitely present, 
                  and in tune too, what is missing is that extraordinary firm 
                  foundation that comes from having voices that maintain the power, 
                  as well as the tuning, in the very lowest register. There’s 
                  a lack of local colour in the alto voices too, when compared 
                  to other, favourite recorded performances. 
                  
                  This is a very cheap CD and anyone interested in hearing Rostropovich’s 
                  view of this sublime work shouldn’t hesitate. But other versions 
                  are more satisfying. The Saint Petersburg Chamber Choir is very 
                  fine under Nikolai Korniev, now on Pentatone, and I also very 
                  much enjoy the performance on Melodiya from the USSR Ministry 
                  of Culture Chamber Choir conducted by Valeri Polyansky. But 
                  for that shiver down the spine it’s Chernushenko every time, 
                  especially the second of his two recordings, with the Saint 
                  Petersburg Cappella on Chant du Monde. 
                  
                  William Hedley