Mozart’s unfinished C Minor mass lacks a canonical completion of the sort that Süssmayr so famously – and still contentiously – imposed on the Requiem. Even without its Agnus Dei and chunks of the Credo, however, the showpiece mass planned for the Salzburg abbey in 1783 remains a mighty and stirring piece whose choral and solo peaks more than match the later work. At St Martin’s, David Bates, his group La Nuova Musica, and the Schola Cantorum of Oxford, brought to it not just passages of period-sensitive refinement but a full-bodied, big-boned weight and depth of sound.
With almost 30 players and as many in the choir, this was historically-conscious performance of audience-gripping muscularity rather than academic fragility. Mozart’s version of C minor may lack the automatic branding that Beethoven would lend to the key, but the church still rang to episodes of drama and strife strenuously resolved into serene and sublime calm.
A short first half presented us with a sort of musical archaeology of Mozart’s mass. Haydn’s choral fragment “Insanae et Vanae Curae”, Mozart’s own Idomeneo (we heard the aria “Se il padre perdei”), and even Handel’s stalwart stomp “See, the conqu’ring hero comes” (from Judas Maccabaeus) all arguably share ingredients with the sound-world of the main event to come. In practice, though, this prelude of tidbits made for a tasty but insubstantial hors d’oeuvre. The bracing attack and drive of the Haydn made it an explosive calling-card for both the Oxford singers and the bold instrumental palette of La Nuova Musica.
In the Idomeneo number, soprano Elinor Rolfe Johnson (yes, daughter of the much-loved tenor Anthony) hinted at the quality we would later enjoy, but never quite had the chance to deliver. The Handel blared, rattled and roused. Bates, physically eloquent on the podium and an agile conjurer of striking instrumental effects, relished every dynamic contrast and maintained an exhilarating sense of pulse and push. And anyone who associates period-conscious music-making with scholarly gentility has clearly never heard La Nuova Musica’s rambunctious brass, let alone Elsa Bradley’s thunderous timpani.
In the Mass itself, choral passages of clean-cut ferocity alternated with accomplished solo work – above all from the pair of sopranos (tenor and bass here play minor roles). Rolfe Johnson, who in the Idomeneo extract had sometimes climbed (or rather glided) upwards to the note, now commanded a precision that complemented the power she exhibited in the opening Kyrie, and sustained throughout. But it was the second soprano, Chiara Skerath, who initially stole the show with a fabulously lush and affecting Laudamus te. Bold, bright, opulent, Skerath revelled in the operatic richness of the writing. Meanwhile, right through the Gloria and into the Credo and an incendiary Sanctus, Bates ignited his choir into one well-controlled fireburst interjection after another.
Rolfe Johnson gave a glorious account of the exquisite Incarnatus est, her sinuous melodic lines tenderly shaped against lovely obbligato touches from flute, oboe and bassoon. In the Benedictus quartet that closes the piece as we have it, tenor Simon Wall and bass Chris Murphy brought presence and polish to their brief moments in the sun (Wall had effectively partnered the sopranos in the trio of the Quoniam).
Bates gave us grandeur without bombast, and drew true excitement from the score rather than indulging in the hyperbole of some period ensembles. Rhythms were taut and crisp; tempi smart but not silly. The C minor mass may never equal the Requiem for iconic celebrity, but its music grips and soars. La Nuova Musica and Schola Cantorum kept it on the heights where it belongs.
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