Cherubini - C Minor Requiem

Commemorating the execution by French revolutionaries of King Louis XVI, Cherubini’s C Minor Requiem was later praised by revolutionaries of a different kind. Beethoven, Berlioz and Wagner greatly admired the work, and it was also praised by Mendelssohn, Schumann and Brahms. Esteem by such illustrious composers is well deserved.

A masterfully grand mass setting, it’s able equally to glorify and terrify. Riccardo Muti and his team make its wonders and terrors excitingly clear in a performance that deserves better sound (voices get a rawer deal than instruments). But make no mistake: both the playing and singing are to die for.

Grave solemnity

Stood beside a grave as the Introitus et Kyrie begins, we're among mourners whose dark clothes reflect the skies above. Slivers of sunlight slip between charcoal-grey clouds, hinting at a better world beyond. This is music of great sadness, yet it clings to the sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life. It’s followed by a brief and comforting Graduale - the voices of loving angels appealing to the Lord on behalf of the dead.

The end of the world

Shattering this calm and heralding mankind’s impending judgement is the Sequentia. It begins with the Dies Irae (Day of wrath) and the frightening sound of the Last Trump and the clash of a gong. Strings swarm like insects (T5-0:10) as clouds darken. Voices first whisper then proclaim the coming of the Judge (T5-0:13~1:04). Fear strikes at the hearts of men. It is a terrible scene … and one that’s terribly thrilling.

The central section of the Sequentia - from Recordare, Jesu pie (Remember, blessed Jesu) until just before the violent explosion at Confutatis maledictus (Let the cursed ones be confounded) - is gentler, befitting the pleading of a sinner before Christ. So, too, is the remainder of the Sequentia, which starts with the sinner begging for the Lord’s care and ends with a plea for eternal peace.

Deliverance from evil

The long Offertorium - a sumptuous vocal sacrifice of praise and prayer - is, by turns, majestic, delicate and venerational in its call for deserving souls to be guided by St. Michael into the Holy Light. In contrast, the short, combined Sanctus and Benedictus which follows boasts vocal blazes only at the two cries of Hosanna in excelsis (Hosanna in the highest). Then, hushed reverence for the Pie Jesu (Blessed Jesu), opened and closed by suitably modest woodwind writing, as three times, the Lamb of God is asked to grant everlasting rest.

The Agnus Dei and Communio are awash with waves of dramatic word setting (T9-0:10~0:30, 0:59~1:19 and T9-1:50~2:07) that give way to three still more intense and dynamic rises and falls from orchestra and singers (T9-3:10~4:19, 4:26~4:56 and 5:08~5:35). Descended from the last of these, we’re led back slowly to the now rain-soaked graveside - to the sorrow of mourners gathered to pray for the soul of the departed. It is a finale with a sense of finality. One fit for a king.