Beethoven: Missa Solemnis
Luba Orgonášová, soprano; Anna Larsson, mezzo-soprano; Rainer Trost, tenor; Franz-Josef Selig, bass; Swiss Chamber Choir, Fritz Näf, chorus director; Tonhalle Orchestra Zürich; David Zinman, conductor.
Arte Nova 74321 65410 2. Format, timing.
David Zinman’s Missa Solemnis arrives with all the virtues and liabilities one expects from his Beethoven cycle. The performance is swift—sixty-six minutes where Klemperer took eighty-five—and texturally transparent in ways that will delight some listeners and leave others feeling shortchanged.
The opening Kyrie nearly lost me. Too light, I thought, too careful not to offend. But the Gloria swept away my doubts with its headlong energy, the Swiss Chamber Choir attacking Beethoven’s punishing tessitura with an accuracy that borders on the miraculous. Fritz Näf has drilled these singers to within an inch of their lives, yet somehow preserved their humanity. When the sopranos leap to those exposed high A’s, there’s no strain, no bleating—just clean, focused tone that cuts through Zinman’s lean orchestral textures like a laser.
The Arte Nova recording serves this aesthetic perfectly. Every contrapuntal strand emerges with analytical clarity, the organ part (often buried in older recordings) adding its proper harmonic foundation. One hears individual instrumental voices—the solo violin in the Benedictus, the timpani’s contributions to the Agnus Dei’s martial episode—with unusual distinctness. Whether this serves Beethoven’s vision is another question entirely.
Zinman conducts with the efficiency of a Swiss railway schedule. Tempos press forward relentlessly; phrases breathe but never linger. This is Beethoven stripped of Romantic accretions, yes, but also stripped of mystery, of the numinous quality that makes the Missa more than an exceptionally difficult choral work. The Sanctus should transport us—here it merely impresses.
The soloists form a well-matched quartet, their voices blending rather than competing. Luba Orgonášová brings her creamy soprano to the enterprise, riding Beethoven’s cruel orchestration with apparent ease. Anna Larsson’s mezzo cuts through without excess vibrato—a relief after hearing so many wobbly attempts at this music. Rainer Trost, a name new to me, proves a genuine discovery: his lyric tenor has the requisite heft without turning beefy or strained. Franz-Josef Selig anchors the quartet with dark, steady bass tone, though I wished for more personality in his solo moments.
But personality is precisely what this performance avoids. The soloists sing Beethoven’s notes with admirable accuracy and pleasant tone, yet they don’t interpret—they execute. In the Benedictus, where the violin soars above the quartet in one of Beethoven’s most searching inspirations, I wanted to feel transported to some realm beyond the concert hall. Instead I admired the intonation.
The Tonhalle Orchestra plays with discipline and polish, though the reduced string sound—part of Zinman’s period-influenced approach—sometimes lacks the sheer weight this music demands. The “Et vitam venturi” fugue needs to blaze with conviction; here it merely burns efficiently. When the chorus shouts “Credo!” I should feel the earth move. These singers are too well-behaved.
Yet I cannot dismiss this release. The choral work remains first-rate throughout, and Zinman’s clarity allows one to hear compositional details that vanish in thicker-textured performances. The fast tempos, initially shocking, begin to make their own kind of sense—this is Beethoven as urgent plea rather than monumental statement. Some will find this refreshing.
At budget price, the disc offers superb value for those building a collection or seeking an alternative to the Klemperer-Karajan axis. But if you want the Missa Solemnis to shake your foundations, to leave you feeling you’ve witnessed something transcendent rather than merely well executed, look elsewhere. This is admirable Beethoven—intelligent, clean, efficient. It’s not necessary Beethoven.
