Wolfgang Sawallisch, Wiener Symphoniker, Wiener Singverein Brahms: Ein Deutsches Requiem, The 4 Symphonies, Overtures And Choral Works by Wolfgang Sawallisch

Herbert von Karajan conducted Brahms's choral masterpiece frequently throughout his long career, but only once on film and with both of these outstanding soloists. This unique document from the 1978 Salzburg Easter Festival was acclaimed by Diapason as "a magical interpretation, prodigiously realized … with a sublime fusion of timbres, a cohesion and, ultimately, a simplicity that are truly unequalled."

There are so many variables affecting a recording of Brahms’ Ein deutsches Requiem that the chances are almost zero that any one conductor, orchestra, couple of soloists, and chorus (not to mention the sound crew) will get everything, or even most everything, “right” at a given outing. And of course, “right” is a matter of personal taste: after all, this is a major work that most choral music fans and practitioners, both amateur and professional, know, have heard on recordings, and likely have sung—at the very least the fourth-movement chorus “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen”. They have an idea of how the piece is supposed to go, from the particular sound and interpretive style of the soloists to the size of the chorus and character of the singing and orchestral playing.

This is a rather brisk reading of Brahms' masterpiece, the most ambitious work in his output and one of the greatest compositions of its type. Though Herreweghe's tempos often pushed the music to its limits here (except for the first section), the performance never actually sounded fast, or at least not offensively fast. In fact, it challenges the Levine/RCA effort.

Musical settings of the Requiem understandably encompass a vast expressive gamut, from Mozart's fear and trembling to the seraphic gentleness of Fauré. But the focus in Brahms's German Requiem–his first large-scale work–is not so much on the departed as on those left behind and the work of memory. In lieu of the traditional Latin liturgy, Brahms uses texts culled from the Lutheran Bible that range from despair at our mortal condition to the solace offered by faith. John Elliott Gardiner and his forces here attempt to replicate the orchestral sound and style of Brahms's own time, using period bowing practices for the strings and mellow Viennese horns, to cite a few examples. The result is a magnificent and deeply moving performance that features excellent integration of the orchestra and chorus.

Celebrating 80 years of vigorous artistic life with Brahms’ expansive and consoling mass for the dead, Ein deutsches Requiem, the hr-Sinfonieorchester (Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra) under its Chief Conductor Paavo Järvi, is joined by soprano Natalie Dessay, baritone Ludovic Tézier and the Swedish Radio Choir in an interpretation described as “exemplary” by the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung.

Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin leads the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir in a luminous, expansive performance of Brahms' German Requiem recorded live in 2009, during Nézet-Séguin's first season as the orchestra's principal guest conductor. The conductor's conception is notable for creating a sense of breadth and serenity while maintaining a purposefulness and momentum that never allow the long lines to sag; it's a beautifully executed balancing act that allows the work to unfold with the spaciousness and grandeur it needs to make its maximum impact.

Stephen Paulus was an astonishingly prolific fixture of the American music scene, with some 600 works to his credit. His sudden death in 2014 left classical music—particularly the worlds of opera and choral music—significantly the poorer, so it’s inevitable that we should see his legacy memorialised with new additions to the catalogue. Royal Holloway’s ‘Calm on the Listening Ear of Night’ sets Paulus’s music in dialogue with another Midwestern composer, René Clausen. It’s Clausen whose musical personality emerges most strongly here in these precise performances. His works offer a distinctively American spin on the fashionable Baltic sound world of Ešenvalds and Vasks that is as appealing as it is generous. In pace, which opens the disc, offers eight minutes of lushly filmic excess.