The music on this fine two disc set was written during the
period of mourning declared when the Elector of Saxony and King
of Poland Friederich August I, ‘Augustus the Strong’ died in
1733. An entire year of protocols and ceremonies were organised
by the state, and had to embrace and satisfy the needs of both
the Protestant and Catholic Churches. Jan Dismas Zelenka had
become acting Kapellmeister at the Dresden court after the death
of David Heinichen in 1729, and was therefore responsible for
writing both the Officium defunctorium or Office of the
Dead and the Requiem as part of the Catholic ceremonies.
The booklet notes deal with the history and use of these pieces
in great depth and provide full texts in Latin, and translated
into English, French and German. A great deal of work has also
gone into scholarly reconstruction of the scores, much of the
content of which was incomplete, or had to be gathered from
disparate sources. More important to our present concerns is
the quality of the recording and performance, which to my ears
are both superlatively excellent.
The substantial Officium defunctorium is an extended
‘Funeral Theatre’ which opens with a truly spectacular Invitatorium,
with dark and dramatic progressions and suspensions arranged
into gritty and rhythmic textures which relent into the more
lyrical Psalmus. This opening is on the scale of that
for a Passion by J.S. Bach, and equally impressive. The main
body of the work is divided into three Nocturni, each
in turn divided into three Lessons and Responses, none of which
titles goes any way towards describing the quality and intensity
of Zelenka’s settings. Given a full and rich orchestral accompaniment
with strings, winds and organ plus theorbo continuo, the elegantly
moving vocal solos and heavenly choral textures float above
and integrate with a full and sonorous harmonic and contrapuntal
backing. Everything has a feel of sumptuous and well-financed
elaborateness, through the performances and recording are at
the same time clean and transparent. The playing is as close
to the original conception of the work as might be consider
possible, but is thankfully free of exaggerated mannerisms.
The voices project a natural vibrato, and dynamics and phrasing
guided by the logical nature and feel of the music – it all
has an essentially ‘correct’ feel, and with no quirky distractions
one can allow the expressive movements pass like a procession
of powerfully emotional devotional vignettes. If you have a
chance to sample, try something like track 9, the memento
mei Domine from Nocturno II. Those harmonies at 0:55
and onwards stopped me in my tracks and made me go weak at the
knees - Zelenka’s original intention I’m sure, and still with
plenty of stirring impact today. The Officium defunctorium
is just full of moments like this.
Disc 2 has a remarkable Requiem which follows the traditional
liturgical pattern, but is again lavishly set with the addition
of a brass section and timpani to add further bite to the orchestral
sound. Zelenka makes full use of the idioms of his day, but
is quite happy to set Gregorian plainchant against state of
the art harmonies and dramatic orchestration, with eloquent
chromatic touches to illustrate the most moving passages of
text. The Christe eleison has an almost jazz feel with
its obbligato chalumeau, a clarinet-like instrument which teases
the ear in the same range as the female vocal solo like a baroque
Benny Goodman. The following Kyrie eleison is also almost
disrespectfully joyous sounding, and energetic trumpets are
allowed a full contribution at the Tuba mirum. Zelenka
doesn’t go in for a great deal of operatic repetition of the
words, repeating the lines at the ends of some phrases where
the sequences of musical logic demand such treatment. He does
allow plenty of expressive relationships and a certain amount
of word-painting, the combination of such effects illustrating
the meaning if the text in a sometimes almost graphic fashion.
This is a Requiem full of unexpected things, and certainly
not a piece filled with downbeat misery. Zelenka’s message is
one which has plenty of defiant spirit, but which is also capable
of expressing the profoundest sense of grief and lamentation.
The piece is foremost a devotional expression in the service
of the liturgical text, set in what must have been the most
dramatic terms possible for the times. Bravura displays of virtuosity
from the orchestra are also a feature in the arpeggios of the
Pleni sunt coeli – revisited in the Hosanna in excelsis:
Philip Glass in paratus. Such moments of lively animation
keep the imagination fizzing as the work progresses. The remarkable
sound of the chalumeau is also an unforgettable feature of the
work, an unearthly wordless voice which shadows the soloists
at moments of emotional intensity. The ending of the work is
as quiet and enigmatic as Zelenka’s own shadowy figure, a character
of whom no portrait survives. 40 minutes may not seem long for
an entire CD, but this Requiem gives enough intensity
and substance to knock many grander works of later eras for
six, and easily stands alone as a masterpiece of the period.
There are a few recordings of the Requiem around, but
with only a few movements from the Officium defunctorium
currently visible on a programme of sacred music from The
King’s Consort on the Hyperion label there seems to be very
little competition for this release. Everything about it is
top notch, from the presentation and documentation to the recording
and performance. Full compliments go to all concerned and not
least to Zelenka, whose stock must rise much-fold with the experience
of these works. This is definitely one of my 2011 recordings
of the year.
Dominy Clements