This set, issued to mark the 75th anniversary of Fricsay's birth, dates from late 1960 when the conductor was already suffering from the disease that killed him. It was to prove to be his final performance of the piece. I don't think it's fanciful to feel in this intensely dramatic and immediate reading that the conductor fully realized his own mortality. At any rate it's an interpretation of tragic force and lyrical beauty that eclipses most of its rivals. Fricsay was here working with a choir and orchestra entirely devoted to him and, as in the Shaw performance on Telarc/Conifer such familiarity pays huge dividends in terms of unified thought. Then, the circumstances of a live occasion seem to infect everyone concerned with a feeling of urgency.
Despite establishing the bel canto tradition through a series of romantic, serious operas (Otello, William Tell) and elegant buffas (the timeless Barber Of Seville) Gioacchino Rossini retired at 37 to live life as a Parisian bon vivant. Fortunately, Rossini (1792-1868) came out of retirement to complete the Stabat Mater, a choral masterpiece every bit as impressive as his more famous works. An expression of the Mediterranean belief in life and faith, this setting of the Stabat Mater is written for full orchestra with four soloists and chorus.
One of the first, and best, recordings of this splendid but interpretatively elusive work was made in Berlin in 1954 under the direction of Ferenc Fricsay. Like the present recording, it featured the RIAS (Berlin Radio) Chamber Choir, though in those days the fledgling choir was supplemented in the full choruses by the famous St Hedwig’s Cathedral Choir. Now it is on its own, acquitting itself superbly in all movements and dimensions; what’s more, the conductor of the entire enterprise is its own conductor, the English-born Marcus Creed.
Rossini's Stabat Mater was performed publicly in its final form in Paris on January 7, 1842. The first six sections of this ten-movement work had been composed earlier, on commission from Don Francesco de Varela, for an 1833 Good Friday performance in Madrid (with the last four movements written by Giuseppe Tadolini). The work was received enthusiastically in both of its incarnations and has remained a core piece of the choral repertory ever since.
There's no doubting Gioachino Rossini's sincerity in his Stabat Mater – he himself was so moved by the piece that he couldn't bear to attend the work's dress rehearsal or any of its first performances – but still, his setting of the Latin text is, strictly speaking, only a sacred work. With its heightened drama, its passionate lyricism and its histrionic virtuosity, it is actually an emotional work, a work in which the composer takes the Latin text as an opportunity to demonstrate its feelings on the subjects of grief and death.
Rossini's Stabat Mater experienced some birth difficulties; the work had been commissioned by a Spanish aristocrat in 1832 but the following year the composer had only finished half of it, and an illness prevented him from continuing. Eager to be satisfied with his sponsor - and his wallet, no doubt - Rossini asked his friend and colleague Giovanni Tadolini to compose the remaining numbers, and in 1833 resounded in Spain the world premiere of Rossini's Stabat Mater. had not hesitated to sign the entire score without mentioning Tadolini's name. What a little joker! In 1841, the book was bought by a Parisian publisher who was unaware of the deception, Rossini was offended all the more because he had reserved the rights, and after many financial tuggings that are not necessarily to his credit, Rossini himself completed his score which was given in full and integrally Rossini in 1842. The public and the criticism were divided; some observers a bit Germanic felt that for religious music, it sounded like an opera, others rejoiced that although it was religious music, it still looked like an opera. This new recording from the Bavarian Radio Orchestra and Choir, with a fine line of Italian soloists, will delight fans.