Ole Schmidt conductor
LSO, choruses and soloists
HERITAGE HTGCD 124 (2 CDs)
Like, I suspect, some other BMS members I recall tumbling from the Albert Hall in May 1980 dazed by the power of the music I had just experienced. Now here is a remastered recording of that evening, which improbably now makes The Gothic one of Brian’s most frequently recorded works.
Most readers here may know enough of the work’s (largely unhelpful) statistics not to need them repeated. While it is fashionable to observe that ‘of course’ the piece is uneven, it is also worth stressing its staggering originality; not a contrived originality, but the organic product of a unique mind, steeped in the whole history of Western music. To point out flaws is like noting the knots behind a richly ornate tapestry – the tapestry would not exist without them.
This originality is embodied most clearly in an orchestral scherzo of such elemental power that commentators frequently reach for terms like ‘cosmic’ to describe it. In evoking the spiritual and intellectual achievements of the High Gothic age Brian welds an astonishing mix of Ligeti-like tone clusters to medieval organum and vaulting Renaissance counterpoint. But this is surely as much a meditation on the turmoil of WWI as on the age of Anselm and Abelard. And there is a clear organising principle to the score, indeed the purely orchestral Part One works perfectly as a standard three movement symphony of increasing ambition and power.
Ole Schmidt and his vast forces probably come as close to realising Brian’s vision as possible. The brass in particular cut through the teeming textures with tremendous bite – although Brian’s ability to switch from a massive climax to hushed tension is superbly dramatic. (Odd that while Brian’s symphonies are often vividly dramatic, his operas are barely dramatic at all.) The massed choirs navigate their way with real dedication, the soloists project heroically but also tenderly, and Schmidt never lets energy levels flag. If initial hearings perplex, there are many immediately graspable signposts, including a thunderous climax for six timpanists, an astonishing jaunty march for massed clarinets (the guileless innocence of Europe marching into 1914?) and the radiant a capella close.
Could any technology fully capture what we heard that night? My amplifier struggles with the 800 voices of the Te Deum, and those without five-figure Hi-Fi may strain at times to make sense of the aural clamour. But for the most part the recording vividly projects and clarifies Brian’s teeming soundscape.
The Gothic opens with a quote from Faust: ‘He who strives with all his might, that man we can redeem’ – and any shortcomings are surely redeemed by Brian’s superhuman striving, which storms the heights far more often than it stumbles. Many thanks to Heritage Records for rescuing this heroic achievement from the archives, and allowing The Gothic to glitter in the sunlight once more.
Review by Kevin Mandry