Gergiev / Fleming, Bocelli, Borodina, D'Arcangelo / Kirov
(One of the ghastly recordings of this work ever made, no small thanks to the dreadful Andrea Bocelli... from the blind, for the deaf.)
Harnoncourt / Mei, Schade, Fink, D'Arcangelo / WPh
That sort of expectation is usually the setup for disappointment, but after a promising Kyrie—where the four soloists hand in their calling cards—the shock & awe Dies irae confirmed reassuringly: It was a Death Mass, but it wasn’t at all clear which side Gergiev was on. A good part of that was the doing of the Mariinsky Chorus that came along with Gergiev. Regardless of their Latin sounding vaguely Russian and the Sanctus attaining distinct features of a Russian folksong, they had their parts down pat, knew what Gergiev wanted and delivered. Traveling with the chorus he has drilled presumably allows Gergiev to focus on the visited orchestra to get the result that he wants. That might be disappointing for the Philharmonic’s amateur choir but it’s a sound decision for the listener—quite apart from whatever financial aspects may or may not also have played into that decision.
The four soloists were all adequate: from the redoubtable René Pape one expects no less (rather more, actually). Given her short notice to replace Krassimira Stoyanova, the nervous Viktoria Yastrebova acquitted herself nicely, Ekaterina Gubanova was ever sturdy (if no Ekaterina Sementchuk), and the young tenor Sergej Semishkur, except for one close shave in the Offertorium, exceeded all expectations with his melodic and strong voice. He avoided any tacky portamento and didn’t pin his chin wasn’t glued to his chest; a habit seemingly common to Russian tenors. The result was a Verdi Requiem of the most enjoyable (and least bit sacred) sort with the Munich Philharmonic turning in an audibly energized, if episodic, performance—a disappointment only compared to the standard Gergiev himself has set.