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Poulenc:
Gloria
Susan Gritton
soprano
Polyphony
Trinity College Choir,
Cambridge
Britten Sinfonia
Stephen Layton
Hyperion
CDA67623 56'
Editor's Choice in Gramophone
'Powerful
music-making that gives the Gloria a vivid sense of unfettered joy'
Marc
Rochester, April
2008
From the very outset of the
Gloria it's clear that this is a performance of real distinction.
The gloriously pompous opening orchestral fanfare has a swagger and a
self-satisfied strut which is one of those rare moments on disc where
you would wish it were tracked separately so that you could just play
it over and over again. But to do that would miss the scintillating choral
entry, the basses starting the ball rolling with the kind of pent-up energy
which you just know is going to explode in the most spectacular way. Other
recordings - I think particularly of the Cambridge Singers (Collegium,
10/88) - have a pleasant, smiley quality, here, Stephen Layton's crew
has an almost piratical swagger, buoyantly breasting Poulenc's turbulent
waves of barely restrained exuberance.
The 38 voices of Polyphony
are augmented by 31 from Trinity College, Cambridge, while and unusaually
hefty contingent of orchestral players makes up the Britten SInfonia on
the disc. What results is not only music-making of immense power and vibrancy
- take the riveting declaration "Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris",
hardly subtle or even particularly refined (the men shout and the brass
blares) but unbelievably spine-tingling - but also an ability, brilliantly
directed by Layton, to capture Poulenc's "half hooligan, half monk"
musical persona (in Claude Rosund's oft-quoted aphorism). Thus, in the
final chorus of the Gloria, after the boisterous start, we have
a moment of profound sanctity and another, crowned with incredible delicacy
by Susan Gritton, of mouth watering enchantment. I'd happily end my days
on a desert island with this track alone.
Not everything is quite so
enticing: Gritton wallows a little too much for my taste in the "Domine
Deus", mischievously abetted by Layton's almost kitsch romanticism.
But it is the vivid sense of unfettered joy in the Gloria and
the matchless intensity of feeling revealed in the motets that make this
such a gloriously distinguished disc.
Marc
Rochester
Gramophone
Magazine, April 2008
The
Guardian
Andrew Clements, Friday
21 March 2008
The death of a close friend in a car accident in 1936 turned Poulenc back
towards his Roman Catholic roots and, in the remaining three decades of
his life, triggered a stream of pieces with religious connotations. These
included his final opera, The Dialogue of the Carmelites, and the pieces
included on this beautifully produced disc. The best-known work here is
the Gloria, from 1959, in which Stephen Layton and his choir do not attempt
to disguise the work's debt to Stravinsky, and in which Susan Gritton's
soaring soprano adds the finishing touches. Yet in many ways it is the
a cappella pieces that prove the more haunting, especially the four Lenten
settings in the Quatre Motets Pour un Temps de Pénitence, and the
Christmas set of Quatre Motets Pour le Temps de Noel. This collection
is all exquisitely done, in a slightly cool and detached English choral
tradition way, and also impeccably recorded.
The
Telegraph
Matthew Rye, Saturday
22 March 2008
This is a real treat. Polyphony
brings its characteristic incisiveness, precision and evenness of tone
to Poulenc's unaccompanied Lenten and Christmas motets, Salve regina and
Exultate Deo. But it is the account of the Gloria - Poulenc's monkish
habit at its most highly coloured - that makes this a real must-buy.
For this, Polyphony is joined
by the Choir of Trinity College, Cambridge, where Stephen Layton presides
as director of music, along with the taut playing of the Britten Sinfonia.
To cap it all, Susan Gritton sears the heart in her solos, while the church
recording gives the whole enterprise a reverent halo.
International
Record Review
Piers Burton-Page, March 2008
Poulenc’s Catholic faith
is much written about. The familiar contradictions in his character, the
saint versus the sinner, somehow served to ignite a flame in his music
– it’s as if the musical realization of ecstasy tinged with
terror acted as a catalyst to inspire some of Poulenc’s most exquisite
music. In performance, it demands utter conviction – and anyone
who has ever tried will also know that it is knotty stuff to sing. The
harmonies seem to slide away underneath you, easily leading to (at best)
momentary uncertainty of intonation as each unexpected but magical progression
reaches some new region of intensity. You want to curse him for letting
his composing hands wander in seemingly random experimentation over his
keyboard, even as you realize that his secure ear and vivid imagination
were actually…glorious.
The Gloria is just that. Especially
when, as here, it radiates a kind of blazing intensity second to none.
Quite how Stephen Layton gets the singers of his hand-picked choir Polyphony
to generate such white heat in a draughty North London church on a wet
mid-week morning I do not know, but he does. Listen, for instance, to
the start of the Gloria’s final section, ‘Qui sedes ad dexteram
Patris’ – you could almost burn your fingers at the lacerating
force with which the power of God the Father is invoked. The choral attack
is laser-like, the rhythmic drive and energy exhilarating. This Gloria
is recorded throughout with wonderful vocal and instrumental clarity and
definition: precision of ensemble and intonation is absolute, the sound
spellbinding – the dynamic range is breathtaking, but the recording
has no trouble coping. It’s an exhilarating listen; and on top of
all that, Layton’s chosen soloist is a joy, too. Susan Gritton soars
ethereally above the stave in the two ‘Domine Deus’ movements,
her sweetness of tone and so-discreet portamento ideal for Poulenc: never
lush, never coy, never operatic.
The Gloria occupies
some 24 of the 55 minutes of music on this disc. I should warn you that
there is no let-up in intensity once the admirable Britten Sinfonia has
disappeared and Polyphony is left on its own: indeed, though I hardly
dare to say so, I even thought that once or twice it was overdoing it,
with (for a second or three) individual voices coming out of the choral
texture when they shouldn’t. The last item on the CD, Exultate
Deo, is, well, exultant almost to an extreme. Far better that, though,
than any hint of primness: the music surely demands the almost over-the-top
spirit I think I detect everywhere here: a spirit that even seeps into
the booklet notes once or twice too! The more sombre mood of the four
unaccompanied Lenten motets is superbly caught: the effect in, for instance,
the wonderful ‘Vinea mea electa’ is almost heart-rending,
a powerful but despairing cry from the heart.
There have been various fine
versions of the Gloria over the years, from the creamy Boston
version under Ozawa to a resonant Chandos issue under an understanding
French conductor. There are also various older versions hidden away in
multi-part sets, including a Dutoit box on Decca and the Poulenc centenary
album listed above. I doubt if many of them can hold a candle to this
one. It’s my feeling that Polyphony and Layton are now in prime
condition for an assault on that Everest of Poulenc’s choral works,
the mighty, the almost impossible Figure humaine. I for one can’t
wait.
Four
Stars **** from www.musicalcriticism.com
Dominc McHugh, 3 March
2008
All things considered, Poulenc's
Gloria has fared remarkably well on record, with recent versions by Jansons,
Hickox and Tortelier ensuring that the piece has remained a favourite
repertoire choice of numerous professional choirs.
But this new addition to the
catalogue, excellently performed and recorded, is none the less welcome
for that. Conductor Stephen Layton and his choir Polyphony are joined
by soprano Susan Gritton, The Choir of Trinity College, Cambridge and
the Britten Sinfonia for the twenty-four-minute piece and then offer four
a cappella works to complete a fascinating disc.
As Meurig Bowen's detailed
and elegant liner notes explain, a car accident which decapitated the
critic Pierre-Octave Ferroud in the Hungarian town of Debrecen in August
1936 reawakened Poulenc's Catholic faith, long since abandoned from childhood.
He went on a pilgrimage to the ancient shrine of the Black Virgin at Rocamadour
and, having 'pondered on the fragility of the spirit', the composer spent
a large proportion of his remaining three decades writing sacred works.
Even his major operatic masterpiece, Dialogues des Carmélites,
takes a religious order as its subject matter.
Yet as the Gloria proves, Poulenc
was still inclined to allow the jazzed-up harmonies and compositional
procedures of his secular works to infiltrate his religious music. The
opening movement, 'Gloria in excelsis Deo', starts with a grand gesture
and dotted rhythms reminiscent of a baroque fanfare, here played with
crisp precision by the Britten Sinfonia; like Handel in Messiah, Poulenc
was not afraid to use worldly splendour to enhance his word-setting. The
French composer also shared Handel's inclination to make his music sensuous,
even when its message was spiritual: who can resist the long legato lines
of the soprano's solo sections in the 'Domine deus, rex caelestis', for
instance, especially when sung with such allure by Susan Gritton? The
other strength of this piece is the quality of the orchestration, something
with which Poulenc often struggled. The 'Domine Deus, agnus Dei' is particularly
eerie, with solo flute lines over a murky string accompaniment; the way
Poulenc introduces the choir very quietly in block harmonies behind the
soprano soloist is again chilling.
Layton's recording comes very
close to perfection and certainly represents one of the 'must-have' CDs
of the year so far. The choral forces are highly responsive to his direction,
which is highly expressive within the bounds of a pure English sound.
The dynamic contrasts are particularly wide, not least in the opening
'Gloria' and the concluding 'Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris'; the swell
in the concluding lines of the former and the control during the a cappella
passages of the latter are two of many impressive moments. The lightness
of delivery in the 'Laudamus te' and the almost ruthless approach to the
'Domine Fili unigenite' (punctuated by ritornelli of the 'Gloria' music
in the orchestra) are likewise striking. If I had a criticism, it would
be that both the delivery of the text and the timbre of the combined choirs
are very English, at the expense of some of the softer colours. But the
way the performers relish the work's joie de vivre is compelling, and
the performance of the final movement, with its Debussyan orchestration
and harmonies, is poignant indeed.
The remaining performances
on the disc are no less exquisite, but because they are all sung a cappella
they inevitably have a less immediate impact. Seen as part of Poulenc's
development of sacred music, however, they make fascinating couplings
to the better-known Gloria. The lovely Quatre motets pour un temps de
pénitence were composed between late 1938 and early 1939 and, as
Lenten motets, are pertinent listening for this time of year. Amongst
four attractive pieces, the Matin Responsories for Holy Saturday and Maundy
Thursday, 'Tenebrae factae' and 'Tristis est anima mea', stand out for
their imaginative range of vocal effects (almost percussive in the final
piece at one point). For my taste the four Christmas motets (Quatre motets
pour le temps de Noël), the Salve regina and the Exultate Deo are
rather more perfunctory compositions, relying too heavily on the early
composers by whom Poulenc was influenced (notably Monteverdi, Palestrina
and Gabrieli), but they are well served by Layton and his excellent choir
and only seem inferior because of the distinctive works placed around
them.
In short, this vibrant new
recording should not be overlooked by anyone with a taste for this music;
Poulenc's prodigious imagination retains its piquancy.
Dominc McHugh
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